Walking Dead

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Iliua, Boirensog
The 16th Day of Rastrii, AoS 4011

Thread Type: Open
Participants: Ligeia,

The capital of Boirensog was under assault from within, the gloom of fear rendering the beautiful city into a ghost of its former vibrant self. Citizens kept their doors firmly locked shut, refusing to come out even in the day, for fear for themselves and their loved ones. The braver ones (there were many) joined the city guard in searching for the perpetrator. Mercenaries and bounty hunters were out in full force, the city's notice boards were filled with missing posters and bounties.

Bounties which had Ligeia's (hooded) face on them. Crouched under one of the many bridges which dotted Iliua, the wanted but very much falsely accused undertaker took the opportunity to catch her breath, still dressed in funeral robes. Ligeia had no problems outrunning her pursuers; it was having to outrun a whole horde of them for the entire day that was giving her trouble. Oh~ She had tried explaining to the townspeople that she was no necromancer but to no avail. Typical herd mentality, blame the newcomer for all your ills. She couldn't escape the city either; the gates were all closed and closely watched. And the canals - the canals had nasty things lurking within them.

Reanimated dead, mostly. Ligeia had found the sightings and rumours of the walking dead amusing initially due to her own nature. Not so much when people started looking at her funny, like she was blamed for their reanimation. She had hightailed out of the funeral parlour, taking all her belongings and pay, at the slightest sign of hostility. Luckily she did, for not a few hours later the witch-hunt started, torches, pitchforks and all. Having little faith in the mob's goodwill, Ligeia chose to stay on the run rather than let herself be caught. Stoning, staking and burning — none of the above was within the immediate plans she had for herself.

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Renir stops at one of the many bounty boards strewn across Iliua before pulling down two bounty pages, one with Ligeia's face on it and another a posting of a common thief. Using the bounty paper of the common thief to wipe some of the muck and debris off of her leather boots she studies the page with Ligeia's face before folding it away in the sleeve of her chainmail. Crumpling up the muddy page of the bounty on the thief; she drops it on the ground, heading towards a mob of citizens, her wolfhound in tow.


She stops a few feet away from them, assessing them and picking out the one who looks the least rabid with fear and hate. Tugging on his sleeve she asks about Ligeia, holding up the bounty page as she does so, and where she was seen last before nodding and smiling at him. As she wanders off she rolls a foul smelling paper of weed; lighting it with a twig. Pausing to climb up onto her wolfhound, she rubs him behind his right ear and points him to the south towards an alley between two houses.

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Pitchforks and loud voice filled the streets of the capital of Boirensog with enthusiasm and hate for the creature that they were hunting. One might catch a loud voice shouting, " Necromancer! Bringer of dead!" They were hunting a necromancer apparently, with some ferocity as a great deal of them had blood lust in their eyes and anticipated red on their hands. The streets had literally come alive since this morning, where even the inn's shutters were closed and it's door was no longer open to any more customers, a simple, "No Rooms," sign had been posted on the entering door.

The Judged found himself in a bit of a bind, the crowds outside were looking for a necromancer and some of them had even seen the dead walking around. Hopefully the had taken arms to the creatures and made short work of them, but the questioned dawned as to how Tyre would be greeted by this mob of commoners in light of his look and race. He didn't think well in that matter, but he found it hard to resist the urge to get up and leave the city.

Tyre had brought a small company of merchants and servants with him to the capital to acquire weapons, armor and provisions for his own growing army and land in Imperia. A long was to go across a body of water, but it was all worth the journey in Tyre's own mind. The cities built here had adapted to the mud ridden lands and had built a massive and beautiful city despite the ample setback. It was like a magnificent wonder scraped from the dredges of the earth. Tyre found that appealing and as his company scattered in search of what they needed, Tyre wondered if he could find their secrets or even bring back an architect or an engineer for his own lands.

Resting upon a balcony outside his inn, he watched the crowd with intense moon-lighted eyes, hoping not one of them would spot him or even try to think to attack him and the inn. Although, he had worn a simple outfit of cloth and leather; a cotton shirt, leather pants and belts, gloves and a dark hood with a long cloak wrapped around the top of it. He also brought his bastard sword with them, rather for emergencies than a desired fight. Either way, he wasn't fit to do combat against an entire crowd. Perhaps paranoid thoughts were all that plagued him as he watched the crowd and the girl, riding the wolf and walking towards an alleyway.

With a quick motion, Tyre left the safety of his inn and once the crowd had moved far enough the way, he pulled up his hood and wrapped his cloak tightly around him, pulling the strings and buttons together. Casting his eyes on the moving... Not a girl, but a Ferdaine, a pugly one at that. Her self-cut hair and muscular body, didn't do justice to the typical image of Ferdainian's. Although, Tyre had only judged from a glance, perhaps it was all just a disguise or something.

Either way, Tyre followed the Ferdaine as she approached the southward alleyway. From how she mingled with the crowd, Tyre might have guessed she was after the same person as the mob was, but he had no way of certain knowing without asking her. When he came close enough, Tyre offered a low greeting to the Ferdaine, " Are you looking for that necromancer, the same as the folk?" His echoed voice came apparent as he spoke, even as he tried to speak softly.

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Davion came to Iliua to get drunk and make sweet love to its women, but that idea was quickly killed atleast the love making anyway. During the course of the day Davion got increasingly drunk and rather horny but the undead started poping up out of no where. The women became preoccupied with different task and would immediatly shoot down Davion's clumsy advances so he took to the streets. In a drunken fury he equiped his armor and weapons and became a drunker version of Sin. Sin began slaying undead left and right with slightly less-accurate swings, he killed them by choping off heads, arms ,legs etc. When the mob formed and began searching for the person responsible it all he quickly joined.

Sin was in the middle of the crowd with a bottle of exetremely strong wine in one hand and his private parts in the other. He began thinking aloud shouting curses and threats in the air. Sin continued this for awhile until he saw a Ferdaine he mistook for a little girl pull on a mans shirt and held up a picture of the accused necromancer. Sin began moving closer and closer to the Ferdaine until she left on top of her hound. He began following the strange pair while his pet followed watching it's master in amusement stumble about.

As the Ferdaine began moving towards an alleyway Sin clinched his Soolari sword until he got an idea in his head. Soon Sin was using one arm, both legs, and his back ropes to scale the side of a building (nearly falling several time) while trying to drink wine. Once atop the building he watched the Ferdaine get ever closer to the alleyway and then he noticed a mysterious man following the halfling so he readied a throwing knife. Somehow his panther was beside him atop the roof watching everyone.

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Waiting till the series of footsteps above her passed, Ligeia came out of her hiding place. Giving a quick look up and around, she then darted into the relative safety of a narrow alley bordered by the high walls. She would have preferred staying under the bridge, where she did not have to worry about being watched from above. With her current reputation such unnecessary exposure was likely to earn her an arrow in the back. But staying so near the waterworks of Iliua was dangerous too; nightfall would be complete soon.

Even though Ligeia's expertise lay with the dead, she knew not of why the reanimated bodies preferred stay hidden during the day. These dead moved according to the will of a decidedly living puppeteer, and the living she was much less familiar with. It could be purely due to practical concerns, like how the eyeballs of the dead had lost their functionality from years of being in the soil, and thus would be at a disadvantage during the day. It could also be due to the type of magic that was powering the movements of the corpses. Or it also be the animator was playing a game of psychological warfare. Certainly, the horde was much more fearsome during the night.

With her back against one of the walls, Ligeia considered her options. Attempting to break out of Iliua by force seemed too painful an option. Waiting for the entire city to be slowly decimated by the dead was an option, but an unsavoury one. Those things were not pretty at all. Given an opportunity she would have liked to help rid Iliua of their zombie infestation, but since the city was so sure she was the one at fault... It's their loss~

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Renir taps the ashes out of her roll before sticking the thing back in the corner of her mouth. She looks up at Tyre with a perked up eyebrow before lowering her voice, "A dangerous time to be one of your kind in this city. I wonder how much of a bounty there would be for two Judged." What interest is it of yours if I'm hunting this Judged or not anyway? You don't work for her do you? Or with her." What do you look like under all those clothes? I haven't seen too many Judged before. "

With that, she looks towards the end of the alley, nudging her wolfhound forward. "Come on boy, let's get out of here." She stops at the end of the alley, looking back one last time before pointing her dog to the right and disappearing around the corner. As she looks to her left she spots a familiar hooded face and turns her dog towards it with a few quiet words. She stops a few feet away from Ligeia, puffing out a thick cloud of foul-smelling smoke in her direction, "Just the woman I was looking for." With that, she quickly retrieves a bola from her waist, spinning it around and releasing it, attempting to tangle her legs together.

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At first, his mouth almost made a full motion to form a word to answer the ferdaine's questions, but as they piled on and on, he found it more difficult to answer them all in a single gasp of air. Although her questions and remarks did give Tyre a presumed impression of the little one and her intentions on retrieving the necromancer, or Judged as she said so. Was it true that a Judged had been behind this whole mess? Or perhaps was it just a face to set on an already damned people. It would truly be a sight to behold, if in fact this necromancer was like Tyre. His hopes lifted, but his troubled gaze left the ferdaine as she started to ride her dog along to the corner of the alleyway.

Taking a leathery hand against his ashen face, his let it slide across the square chin line and onto the other side. Tyre had more incentive to follow the messy-haired little rider, but at the same time it presented worry to him. What if she did try to turn him in with the necromancer? There was no clear sign as to if her questions lead to her true intentions, Tyre only presumed as such. Striding forward, he attempted to follow suit with the ferdaine, " I've only become apart to end this whole witch hunt, it's neither good for me or those I have in company, scattered about the city." He reached down to his gloves and pulled them tighter, before continuing in a small tone, " I'd prefer nobody get burned to a crisp or killed today. I will have to see what matter of thing this, necromancer, is. If it is even one."

Rounding the corner with the wolf-child, the young woman presented herself. As did the Ferdaine with a bolas, trying to tie her legs off and send her to the ground. Tyre, wanting no involvement in the combat decided to hang himself against the wall and watch what would happen in the alleyway. " Stop," he pressed to both of the women, " Let's not see this to a bitter end!"

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Sin sobered up rather quickly and he could finally see that the little girl was actually a full grown Ferdaine. It was now obvious that the Ferdaine was after the necromancer as well. Sin was a bit amused by the thought of a Ferdaine bounty hunter and even more amused when the little thing told of the Judged as she called him. Sin was nit familiar with Judged so when he found out out that his target was one aswell he was less than thrilled. Sin noticed the Judged woman enter the alley so he began stretching to prepare for the fight.

Equiping a clay bomb Sin started to jump down but stopped when he saw the Ferdaine warrior throw a bola at the target, his target. Sin quickly jumped down with Komu into the alley and threw a clay bomb at the Ferdaine not caring if she died from the explosion. Sin turned to the target and sent the Ragged Ropes and Komu her way.

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Perhaps staying under the bridge, would have been a better option, regardless of how such behaviour would imply that I enjoy the company of trolls. She stopped the bola’s trajectory with the blade of her scythe by swinging it downwards even as she took a step back the bola’s range. Ligeia was relieved to hear a voice of pacification, seeing as how she terribly disadvantaged in both numbers and environment. Had exchange taken place in an open space, she would have simply sidestepped the incoming object and then flee. Such means of attacking lacked the element of surprise and she had been tipped off early on by the preparatory spin her attacker gave to the weapon.

The assault was not yet over however, and yet another person entered the fray. She was lucky that her attacker was not a particularly hulking figure; her field of vision was unobstructed. Bounty hunters, without a doubt. I don’t think the angry mob was ever this unique in appearance. She only had time to sweep her eyes over the three people in front of her however, before a bomb was thrown. Instinctively Ligeia did not turn, instead shielding her coffin with her body. She would regenerate quickly; her coffin needed more work. Staggering back as the bomb did its work; Ligeia was relieved to find that the bomb was explosive, but not incendiary. Shrapnel from the blast ricocheted off the walls to their sides, zigzagging forcefully within the narrow alley.

Ligeia herself suffered a few cuts and scratches, but had no time to pick out the bit of something that was annoying her hip at the moment. Bounding towards her was a panther that she had no intention of tangling with, not to mention the witch-hunt squad that would be drawn here by the sound of the blast. ”Seems like someone likes their ends bitter. Sorry, but I prefer my rendezvous to be sweet one-on-one affairs.” She took out a small vial secured on belt of her skirt, flinging it onto the ground as she turned to run. With her ears still ringing from the explosion, Ligeia did not hear the relatively quiet sound of breaking glass. Still, with the amount of pointy rubble lying around and the strength she used, there was no doubt that the vial broke.

Dark green fumes would be spreading within the alley right now, their circulation aided by the residual heat provided by the clay bomb and shielding her from view. Such a nastily coloured gas was poisonous, naturally. A little something she had taken as a souvenir while exploring the sites of mining accidents. Since this was an open air area the concentration would not be enough to kill, but more than sufficient to cause eye irritation, shortness of breath, nausea, cough, sore throats and other similar symptoms. Her own eyes watered a little, but she blinked quickly and continued sprinting out of the alley. Bursting back out from where she had entered, Ligeia retreated back under her bridge, where she would attempt to dig out whatever it was that was stuck.

She did not let her guard down yet; the most dangerous group, the horde, would have started hunting by now, and Ligeia was uncertain if they were drawn by the smell of blood.

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Renir kicks her ride forward as the bomb arcs towards her, watching as her bola gets knocked out of the air. Takala shies away from the panther before Renir kicks her hound forward again. The explosion roars out behind her as she and Takala try to hide behind the coffin from the shrapnel. Piece of shrapnel whiz overhead, only a few inches from her, Ligeia blocking most of it. As the noxious fumes from the vial surround her in the narrow alley, she squints her eyes before leaning to the side, gagging. Once more kicking her hound forward, they stumble out of the cloud before staining the street with vomit. After emptying her stomach of its contents and wiping her mouth with a grimace, she mutters quietly. urging Takala to trail after Ligeia. She rubs her teary eyes, her hound wandering towards the bridge, both of them occasionally stopping to cough, the sound hoarse and raw. Renir turns her eyes towards the bridge, kneeing her dog on faster as she slowly recovers before pausing at the slope of the bridge, looking down below it.