Aneron was a bit shocked, at the least. It seems this woman could talk quite a bit when prompted. Disappointed she didn't know more about this man, he turned to watch the people in question as she began to explain some sort of incident where her things were stolen.

"These people are quite odd...I wonder what secrets they have. Could they help me in my quest for power?" Aneron thought to himself. Startled out of his thoughts by a lapse in the small elf's story, Aneron nods to the woman and says "Well, it's only to be expected. You can't trust others, no matter where you are. It's probably a good lesson for you to learn. It is a necessity to be on guard at all times, especially for one such as yourself. Anyways, I hope you find you belongings." On that last note, Aneron turns towards the market square and fades into the crowd.

"I will have to keep an eye on these folk, for it seems that they have strange peculiarities about them. I, of all people, should know and understand that fateful events seem to gravitate towards the abnormal and strange." Aneon thinks to himself as he finds yet another corner to watch the group from afar.

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Tani caught Sha’im’s look and smiled at her, a way of expressing a friendly understanding of the situation. Rounds in the market particularly were rarely boring but this morning seemed to be extra active. Tani had too many things pulling her in different directions at once. The order to keep the peace pulled her one way, while the order to great new comers took her another. Sighing she rubbed her temple for a second before turning back to the cube with the hologram. “You are most welcome, Bordertown inhabitant. If you should require anything else, do not hesitate to ask.”

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The Chief of the enforcers was right to be nervous. There were dark happenings in Bordertown, events that were about to engulf the port-world that if left to its own devices might spread to and eat away at the surrounding realms. Dark politics and social upheaval were just around the bend. The chief felt it in his gut, spurred on by snippets of whispers in the dirtiest allies in the darkest parts of Bordertown. They were not a specialty force, but perhaps they would soon need to be.

The events, arguably began with those whispers. Deals made in the shadows and alliances formed in secret between the scum of the city were the first twitches of the quake that was about to hit. The first real vibration felt, however, was a death.

Felinor, Wiseman among the local hedgewitch population, staggered down the alley towards the town square. His hand was on is abdomen, as if to keep the blood from flowing out of the stab wound. Instead, it simply seeped from between his fingers to soak into his clothes. He left tiny droplets, barely noticeable to the uncareful eye, behind him. His breath rasped from between clenched teeth and his eyes unfocused. In short, he was dying. He knew the stab wound, created by a certain build of dagger infused with magic, was not healable. He knew that magic could not heal him and technology would fail to save him. There was nothing for it but to head towards the square and hope to speak with someone, reaching someplace to tell what his murderer looked like, before death came to claim him.

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Death continue to walk around the town square, he had known when a man was going to die. And he knew where he was too, following tell he found the man. Already half dead, death walked to this man with no sound of feet stepping.

Death came up from behind the man. "You time has come, do you know what way your soul will go once you have died?" He asked, his scyth in hand.

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Aneron watched as the dying man emerged from a corner. While the sight of his blood didn't perturb him, it sure as hell was startling in contrast to the relative peace of the busy market. Immediately recognizing what this meant, Aneron reached for the hilt of his sword. As it made contact with his hand, he received a small jolt that served to speed up his heart rate and make him more aware of his surroundings. It was a spell, however Aneron had gotten so used to using this particular one that it was almost an unconscious action when he sensed danger. Aneron moved forward from the corner, and halted when he saw a shadowy figure glide up to the man. Putting two and two together, he figured that the figure was one of the many realms' embodiment of death when he noticed both the shadowy cloak and scythe. Aneron moved quickly now, and in a few moments found himself next to the pair.

"Wait just a moment please. You can attend to your business once he has passed on what he needs to say." Aneron says, looking into the shadowy hood of the dark figure.

"Tell me." Aneron told the dying man. He was no stranger to the look in someone's eyes when they know they are going to die. The fact that a Death had appeared insured this fact like nothing else could. Aneron knew that the only thing he could do now was to ensure the man had vengeance upon whomever did this. Still alert, he awaited for an answer while scanning the crowds for any strange or conspicuous movement, his left hand gripping his now exposed, sheathed sword by the pommel, ready to draw it at a moments notice.

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"I am afraid I've never heard of Warclema. As my colleague told you, this is Bordertown. A sort of crossroads between worlds, if you will," Sha'irn told the robed man's shoulder. She didn't like his eyes, an extremely odd feeling for her.

She bowed politely to all the people present, before taking another look at the black cube in her hand. For such a robotic thing, it was strangely cute.

"Let's take you to that power station, shall we?" she cooed at it. Maneuvering her way expertly through the market goers - some with wings, others only as tall as her knees, some with hoofs and one gentleman with a tuba for a head - without looking a single one in the eye. She reached the building Tani had been pointing to; an assembly of uneven white marble blocks clumsily held together with some bright blue substance she preferred not to think too much about. Compared to how bright the marble shone in the sunlight, the alley right next to it was suspiciously dark. She put Orpheus down next to the plug and poked her head nervously around the corner.

What in the seven hells...? At the far end of the alley, she could barely make out three shapes. Men, judging by the size of them. She pricked up her ears, confirming the faint gasping noises coming from the one who seemed to be on his knees. And... Good gracious, is that Death?! She couldn't be sure, but the incredibly tall, cloaked figure gave off an imposing aura. Also, hey, the scythe was kind of a dead giveaway. Emphasis on dead. The third figure seemed to be holding some sort of weapon. The faint sunlight behind him made it gleam from certain angles.

Sha'irn quickly withdrew her head. She had seen enough. She pressed herself against the wall beside the electric outlet, trying to breathe normally. She may have been an enforcer, but she was a small and frail one, and her only defenses were her eyes and a pair of fast legs. She looked at the cube on the ground and smiled somewhat shakily.

"D-do you need help plugging yourself in, or are you good to go?"

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. Resume + Characters + Writing + Book Reviews etc.

invisible spaceexplore elsewhere Ask a Question, Get an IC Answer - character development game Only doing 1x1s and tiny groups for now due being generally busy. If you have a cool idea, feel free to approach me, though, alas, even the most awesome adventures must be passed up on sometimes. invisgmt+1 + 6th semester university student = patience please ♥

Tjihfer had turned her head to look at the group with curiosity while Aneron talked. Only when she was about to response she turned back to see he was gone. She looked around the busy flow of stranger beings, to see if she could catch a glimpse of him. But the mysterious tall elf was gone for sure.

“Why would he think I know about the blue cloaked man?” she muttered puzzled to herself, wondering who both the elf and the blue cloaked man were. But choose to heed his advice and be wary.
“I guess I can’t trust anyone in big cities like this. But it’s like something sinister is going one here.” She thought to herself. But maybe the two enforcers ahead of her had a better clue on something. She certain would be sure to keep an eye on how things goes while she was here.

Curiously, Tjihfer walked up towards two enforcers. Perhaps they could tell her something new.
“Excuse me-” she polite called the short enforcer woman’s attention, as the taller woman walked away with the small black cube.
“Do you know if my backpack are found yet? I lost just lost it yesterday.” Yesterday at the enforcer’s office she had described her backpack as old worn and made of leather. It had a rather unprofessional made flower pattern, burnt into its surface with a magnifying glass.

Tani turned her attention to the citizen calling out to her. Mornings in the square were always fairly steady with people chatting and questions, but this morning was certainly active. The woman began asking about a backpack, and Tani searched her memory storage. “The Finders’ report this morning did not include a backpack of that description. If you reported it to the Enforcer’s office, the Finders will be looking for it still. Did you give them some way that they can contact you when it is found?” Tani’s voice was kind, attempting to be helpful. Things were easily lost in Bordertown, and sometimes are moved or stolen. The differences in cultures was one thing to blame for this. Things left behind were often picked up by various fae who thought things left were free range. It was one of the bigger messes that the office dealt with, and so they had plenty of practice. She hoped the woman’s backpack would be found soon.

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Felinor was shocked by the appearance of Death. All of the times he had tended to the wounded and held their hand as they lay dying, never before had he seen Death in this form. It was frightening. He felt his heart racing and knew from his studies that a racing heart was only pushing him closer to dying faster. He was already there. Death was before him and there was no escape no pause, only waiting for the scythe to strike. “I…know…” Felinor gasped before a new figure appeared. Felinor could barely see the outline of the man as his vision blurred through the pain. He coughed, and felt blood gurgling inside of him. His training kicked in. Internal bleeding. Fatal stab wound, all we can do is give him medicine to make the passing peaceful. No one to do that for him now. He had to say. What was it he had to say? Thinking was growing more and more difficult. “Dark…magic.” He paused to gasp as pain lanced through him. “Dark magic….and….Red….Tell…” After that he gasped again, coughed, and was unable to speak more.

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Death let the man say his final words, then sent his scyth through the man. Cutting from his shoulder to his waist, there was no blood. There wasn't even a cut, but the man was no longer living. His heart had stoped, his eyes still open. The knife wound still pumping blood. Death then retched into the man and took the mans soul, then put it in a bag that was under his jacket. While it was more of a rag of a blanket, but only some people would say that. And those people were the dead ones. Death looked to the man holding the newly dead on, then simple turned and went back to looking for the woman.

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