The Last Town at the Edge of the World. [Open]

[Nayt]

Offtopic: Just a description of the setting. I'll join in the RP after a post or two.

It was a quaint town; not small like a village, but not the size of a city. It made for a good neighborhood. The smaller the town, the less energy; the larger the town, the more crime. They had a good median here; the town wasn't made up of drunks and actually had children running and playing the day, with adults keeping tabs on them--or, themselves, out with friends. It had life to it--without an excessive deal of crime. It was all the long time elder, Devon Malyehn, could ask for. Even the cataclysmic events that shook the world barely touched their haven . . .

Specifically because the town of Jesnoria sat upon the edge of the end of the world.

It was once surrounded by grasslands, and there used to be towns up ahead, some old some new, and ancient structures of long passed countries--but the cataclysm devoured it all, and left it to ruin. All but Jesnoria, which set nestled between a long stretch of grasslands and a winding leading up to it from the lower countries, and a sharp drop-off into a ruined land as far as the eye could see. All citizens were advised to stay away from the fifty foot cliff-side that marked the very edge of their town, and over time, rope ladders were added just in case a child were to fall in and a quick rescue would save the child's life. Also, there was a certain degree of economic gain for the town, to avoid placing fences at the cliff's edge, and leave rope ladders instead . . .

Archeologists, adventurers, and those curious about the stories of the great cataclysm all had their reasons to come. There were stories of the "end of the world" which set themselves within the wasteland, before and after the cataclysm, concerning mystical creatures, ancient relics, and legendary armors and swords and trinkets and jewelry which were all presumably buried or strewn about the wasteland which extended far beyond the horizon.

And Jesnoria was the last trace of civilization before it.

[Paroxysm]

There were many theories on just what had triggered The End, a cataclysmic-level disaster that destroyed, ravaged, raped, and maimed Utopia and likewise, the young woman who had appeared almost out of nowhere, had her own theories. Mostly without any form of solid, concrete proof to prove her point, of course, but she had her own theories. To put it simply, whatever caused The End was most likely, no--must have been--a large, powerful, and magical artifact. After all, what else could it have been? Under these--most likely false--pretenses, the young woman, one Renata Aldaine, traveled to the only place left untouched by The End, surprisingly it was also rather close to where the phenomena was thought to have originated.

The medium sized village was a sight to behold, considering the last place the young woman had been was Greoul, a ruin-filled land of tribals, or that was the impression it left on her. She would not be going back there anytime soon, to be sure. Still, children actually behaving like children and adults who seemed to whole-heartedly enjoy life were a sight she was not all that used to seeing lately, she welcomed it, embraced it even, and strolled through the place with only the most minimal of gawking.

Truth be told, her way of dress was asking for the occasional stare, if not the occasional religious offense. A foreboding aura slithered around her feet, a large and unsightly staff was gripped in her right hand, following against the ground with each one of her steps, in an effort to keep her from tipping, not that she needed the help, it was cosmetic, really. She wasn’t that clumsy. Her gown, as 'dress' did not quite do her apparel justice, was willed into existence with a word and thought, it clung to her body like a second skin, although thankfully leaving much to the imagination, instead of the opposite, but still--it looked risqué.

Her reason for visiting was curiosity paired with cocky and ambitious wanting. Such were the reasons for most of her travels, though. Regardless for her reasons of being int he town, however; she would choose to wait a few hours before checking in with whatever establishment housed the many adventurers and archeologists that had taken to exploring near-by, after all ... There was still plenty of day to be had, from the looks of things.

[littlebean]

If Emli knew about the end of the world, if he was aware that all of Utopia was being constantly ravaged by monsters, and that countless of villages were being burnt to the ground, he would be astounded by the tranquility of the city. If not for his mole heritage, he would have been fully informed, however like the rest of the citizens he spent his entire time underground, hidden and kept secret from the world, and the world kept secret from him.

Due to life or death circumstances, he escaped his country and travelled to the surface filled with new sights and sounds, and smells he'd never smelled before. Mostly all of them were a pleasant experience, excluding the last one where he was captured and imprisoned by a bizarre man. Still, in comparison to his life back at home, his capture was a mere inconvenience and he escaped his prison cell in Cizok the way he escaped his death sentence in his home underground, with simple tunnelling.

Emli exerted himself into pushing against the earth in one final thrust, finally emerging from the ground. At first, two large distinctly mole like hands were the first bits of him to appear out of the whole. It wouldn't look any different than any other mole, only much larger than the standard breed, but then the rest of Emli climbed out, poking his head out of the hole, in the pathway of a woman. He had been digging and tunnelling all this time since Cizok, but as much as he loved digging, it was time for a break. Now with his head finally out of the dirt, Emli breathed deeply the scent of the nearbuy ocean, turned off his headlight and took in his surroundings.

[Nayt]

There were truly a momentous amount of theories regarding the End of the World. Jesnoria was too far from the epicenter of the conflict--which scarred the earth for miles and miles, it seemed--for any of its citizens to know what happened, and there were only tales and legends of heroes that fought in the epicenter and survived, stories that more than likely had no bearing of truth whatsoever. Stories of heroes were just the same as theories; there was a high probability that they were all wrong, but so far, no one had proven anything.

Which was exactly why Jesnoria had become a popular resort for travelers practically overnight.

Dirt roads ran throughout the town, with absolutely no trace of concrete or asphalt. One particular road lead through mid-town, towards two of the most popular establishments for "tourists," The Philistines' and The Samsonites'. The Philistines' was a a popular bar, generally populated by the adventurers and archeologists from beyond Jesnoria; a large two story establishment with an archaic feel to its architecture, with arches leading to each hall and room, and its outside painted to look like sandstone.

Across the street, however, stood a competing business, The Samsonites', an inn built to house a large quantity of people, with promises of private rooms, and somewhat reasonable prices for each night. There was a long history between these two; one continuously tried to buy out the other, and even before the influx of outsiders after the town, out of pure luck, barely evaded destruction, there was such a tension between the two establishments that neither ever recommended the other to their patrons, despite the fact that it was the most reasonable choice; a man leaves a bar and goes to the nearest inn--but barkeepers would get fired for suggesting The Samsonites'.

. . .

The very moment that the woman traveler, Renata Aldaine, started towards The Samsonites' that the dirt path before her, leading to the popular inn, bubbled and burst, gently casting specks of earth aside and a very passive and collected way; refined, even!--coming from a human sized hole burrowed for some ways, with the mole-man Emli emerging just a moment later . . .

[Paroxysm]

Mere moments before stepping on the burrowing, sub-terrain man-thing’s head, Renata’s stride would stop, her weight balanced on one foot as the other hovered in the air, her posture gave off the curious hint of being frozen mid-step, indeed; her eyes still looked forward, refusing to blink, but this would only last a mere instant, a fraction of a second, a very brief recognition that someone, or something; had been in front of her. She continued her walk.

Any resistance against her step went unnoted, whether or not she had stepped on the thing, too, was barely acknowledged. At least, until she was a few feet away, in which case she turned around, her staff slamming into the ground as her eyes focused, locking angrily on what she thought to be a monster of some kind, a demon that perhaps followed her from her last journey, a venture into Greoul’s heartland, and upon her face was the most disturbingly bizarre frown to ever grace the face of a human being, a frown so set in place that the area around her features had such creases they would appear to have been chiseled from stone.

“Naŭza … “

The woman let a rasp whisper escape her throat, she had no idea what she had stepped in, rather than on. An accusative gaze slowly moved down to her feet, though the futility of such an action was obvious, however; as the 'fabric' of her gown obscured their view, still she looked as though she was blaming them for the unfortunate occurrence. Eventually her eyes would again move back up to where she had thought she had stepped on the beast or thing or monster.

[Toneh]

Sniff…sniff..

“Not here…but will be coming…they always come..” Azazal grumbled as he scraped around in the dank ally ways of the town. Azazal was a hunter, and his skills made him a top pick in hell to do this task. It was not an easy task, but if you had the right creatures anything was possible. This town was one of the last shreds of organization on this little dust ball. Angels demons and other odd creatures.

It all flashed back to when he had his spirit restored after the end.

“We do not belong up their…this is our home, and you need to return our people to their home.”

“Why me?”

“You parlayed with the gods, insulted them, annoyed them. You faced their most powerful minions and here you stand. Now go and find them…and send them to me for their punishment.”

“As you wish my queen..”

His blue scales and body were concealed by a modest white cloak. He never needed personal effects, but a single fiery red jewel hung around his neck bound by. His head was covered, but his blue cat like eyes gave off a dim glow identifying that he was not something of this world.

A scent filled his tiny nostrils, and his head jerked up. The tiny abyssal advanced, silently, as he stalked the thing that was emitting the scent. A low growl emitted, sounding more like a soft grinding of bone against bone. His eyes fell onto the body of Renata and what appeared to be a man crawling out of the ground.

Azazal snarled in the darkness but pulled back. He could have struck but he had learned long ago that some times discretion was the best choice when trying to do a little good.

[littlebean]

The ocean scent was a nice scent. Even though Emli wasn't too fond of large bodies of water, and was completely frightened to be in one, he couldn't deny to himself that they smelled absolutely fantastic. It was a crisp, clean salty moist sort of aroma, and the surface world was full of nice smells. The trees tickled his nostrils, the air and the grass all but welcomed him and invited him to crawl out of his hole. In a few ways, this town seemed similar to Cizok. It was only the second town he'd ever seen, but they both had buildings rising up from the ground and they smelled kind of like the trees. Perhaps they were made of them? He wanted to climb up and explore what this place was, and what it had to offer. In fact, he was incredibly thirsty and hoped he might find something to drink, but it would have to wait.

"YI!" An unsuspected foot came as if out of nowhere, startling him to squeak like a large rodent and immediately dive back into his hole for safety. The hole was the safest place, and if anything were to happen, he would go right back into it. Now, he had experience under his belt, and even though it was only one experience Emli knew better than to take his chances. He waited quietly in his hole, holding his breath and when nothing happened, began to peek out of his holy slighly, repeating the process. His hands were the first out, followed by his head. The feet were nowhere to be found, and a woman was far in the distance. So far, everything seemed safe enough for him to come out of his hole.

Offtopic: Gah I had no idea what to post sorry D:

[Nayt]

Following the End, the world had become something else--but not something vile, as one might think. No, it had become a truly beautiful thing: a place where words like overpopulation and colonialism had no value, where the world prior was progressively running out of space to hold so many peoples and ideologies and countries, where wars were fought daily for God and country, where less fortunate peoples were beginning to find food and water to be the most valuable commodities of all--worth killing, and dying, for.

Then, the world as they all knew it ended. It became something different. Something peaceful.

And finding out why everything had changed took priority for many--even those not of this world. Some called them monsters, some youkai--and others, demons. To most of them, though, they had only their identities--rarely a place to call home, and rarely kin to call their own. Their society wasn't quite the family oriented one.

In The Philistines', he had introduced himself as Jung Petrovik. It was more than likely a false name, but probably not far from the truth. He had a loud, boisterous laugh, and when the bartender told a joke, it was easy to hear him outside on the street. His skin was tanned, but it looked too red to be natural; he was thin, lanky, and tall, and had bushy black hair that could not stay down--but regally so--which lead to a pair of bushy sideburns that stopped short near his lips. In this detour, he grinned and laughed and drank. It was easy to enjoy life, especially with some of the women that were passing in and out of the bar!

And just like he was one of the few in Jesnoria who could wear a regal coat and drink like his wallet was truly bottomless, he was one of the few that smelled different--like the short man in a white cloak, watching a scene outside between a traveler and a mole-man . . .

[Paroxysm]

Off-topic: You're not the only one. ;_;

Kia!?

The woman looked startled as she realized that nothing was there, she could’ve sworn …
Stubbornly, however; the traveler refused to believe it was merely her imagination going wild and begin to look around, taking steps back as she whimsically looked about, the frown that marked her features previously had vanished and been replaced with a wry, playful smile. Indeed, even with her feet still moving, she had brought forth a small pack of cards, although not of the playing variety; these were special cards and on their surface was an engraved word, written in the woman’s skilled hand.

“Ho ve, kiu devi mi uzado? Aperi? Mortigi? Ho!”

In apparent excitement, the girl showed a brief moment of inspiration and approval of the ‘word’ she had chosen to use, the arcane energies at her disposal amassing in her left-hand, a circled star revealed upon her flesh as a glove was removed.

“Flanke de, … ”

The girl quickly spoke the words, not needing any form catalyst or extended chanting to complete the spell; and without much warning, would vanish from sight, her body shifting from one location to another.

“ … pardonu.”

The woman would appear behind the mole-man, a lack of scorn and hate could be noted in her voice, but the mole-man seemed somewhat skittish and she fully expected him to duck again into his hole, at least that’s how she assumed he had escaped, it made sense, but then -- not everything could be trusted at face value.

“Kompatinda grundo-persono, mi estas bedauri car havis kaŭzi malprofiton cin.”

She spoke fluently and quickly, her body bending at the knees with her staff used as support, although it was held at the ready, just in case she needed to plunge the thing into the hole in the ground, but that would only occur if the mole-man sought to attempt an escape. Still, she would not go so far as to turn Dystopia into a weapon against him, eating the skin from his bones through the use of a word and thought, which would have been rude and irrational. Yes, she would not go that far. A dead whatever-it-is did nobody any good.

[littlebean]

Conditions were perfect, everything was a go! He smelled three people in the distance, two men and one women, and none of them seemed dangerous, or intent on harming him in the first place. There wasn't enough of a threat to keep him in his hole, and his need for something to drink far outweighed the possible dangers in this area, and the smell of food and drink coming from the two buildings were basically begging for him to come and eat them.

Emli couldn't have dug up into a better area. He was relieved that he dug all the way out here, and popped out of his hole to go enjoy what the town had to offer. With a grunt and a groan, he pulled himself out,a human body appearing out of the hole, followed by a human set of legs. For obvious reasons, his clothes were absolutely filthy and covered in dirt, as were his hands and crooked feet. Being covered in dirt was his default state, the soil and grime felt perfectly natural to him, and without it he felt uncomfortable. A mole without dirt was just against everything nature intended.

Yet as Emli's luck would have it, things would not be so easy. Ever since he came to the world above things have been difficult, deceptively so. Here, in this peaceful town trouble would still be waiting for him. It seemed that no matter where he travelled here above the ground, nothing good had happened. With his goal so close, with his body halfway out of his hole, literally seconds away from being completely free, the situation changed quickly. Too quickly for his eyes to follow. Even with his poor vision he could gave sworn, no, Emli was CERTAIN the woman was ahead of him, and yet somehow she vanished completely.

"WAH!" She suddenly somehow appreared behind him, and startled Emli into yelling. Now he definitely wasn't going to be leaving the safety of his hole, not with this woman behind him, with her weapon and her magic and whatever else she had up her sleeve. Instead he lay there, perfectly still and uttered a frightened, "H-herro?"

[Toneh]

Azazal looked on watching observing the antics of the mole man and the strange women with cool complacent calculating stair. Suffice to say they were not his targets, or anything close to what he was looking for, the woman how ever had the smell of the arcane on her. Azazal would probably check up on her later down the line.

Turning from he slinked through the ally way making an effort to hand low and stick to the shadows in the darkness. It was then he caught the scent of another, a demon. That smell never left the skin of one, a putrid stench that soaked the air of any town their were in. To Azazal and his senses another demon may as well have been a Christmas tree.

He began moving slowly, not advancing, but rather stalking around the town, hiding from site, and when he was sited he would quickly vanish from view.

[Nayt]

Azazal had, in fact, been spotted. Where he stood at one point in an alley between houses, just down the road from the two rival establishments, he had been seen by a young boy. He couldn't have been much older than twelve, and until he caught the glimpse of an extremely short figure covered in a white cloak, standing in the alleyway, he had been running for a friend's house to stay the evening.

--and as soon as the youth caught a glimpse of Azazal, and started to steer from his path, Azazal was gone, just like he had intended, were someone to see him. It was sudden and unexpected. The boy at first stared into the alley, before brushing his thick brown hair out of his eyes and running for the alley. It wasn't often that someone that short came around here. He could have been a kid for all he knew!

In the Philistines', the awkward smelling fellow had just finished a good laugh after a good beer. No one else around him seemed to notice the smell; it was only people of his kind that seemed to notice.

"Sir, would you like another?" asked the bartender, an older, well dressed gentleman, whose expertise as a bartender came entirely from personal experiences.

"Suuuuuure!" exclaimed the large red skinned fellow. He acted drunk, but . . . "I'd like twwwwwwwwoooo more of the last one!"

[Paroxysm]

Quirking her head to one side, the woman smiled at the thing and made sure to restrain her curiosity, otherwise she may have already reached for the thing and pulled it kicking and screaming from its hole.

‘Herro?’

The woman copied her new and strange acquaintance, repeating the ‘word’ a few times, that is, if that was what it was supposed to be.

“Ah!--H-hello!”

Allowing the staff to slide loosely between the crease of her elbow, the traveler, Renata Aldaine, remained kneeling, balanced perfectly on the tips of her toes. She was, however; not quite sure on how to coax the thing from its hole without causing harm or stress or just plain scaring the hell of it. He seemed just a tad bit too excitable and looked to practically be having a heart attack even as she stood over the hole.

“Mi am Renata Aldaine.”

Renata’s voice lacked any feminine charm at all and could often be confused for that of a male’s voice, she had been leading a rather adventurous life for quite some time now, even her cultured tone could sometimes be hidden beneath a few layers of bad habits she had picked up in the various places she had been, including the lower parts of Sythinia and even a brief visit to Darokin’s capital, Thrydfe. Although, the latter was short lived and well before The End.

“-------Understand me?”

“-------I am from Rivvil, have you been there?”

“-------I was last in Greoul, it es a very ne amuza ejon.

“------Are you ever leaving your hole?”

The woman would continue speaking to the creature with complete and utter disregard for its sanity, there was no chance of her stopping any time soon and even the eventual discomfort of her kneeling position would not do much to deter her from speaking.

“-----Mi miri kio Grundo-Personojn gusti---That es,taste."

[littlebean]

Instead of her murdering him, eating and murdering him, or capturing then murdering him like he had expected, the woman greeted him, introduced herself and started a one ended conversation, saying so many things so quickly he could hardly keep up.

The rumbling vibrations that her voice made were deep and masculine, but the scent of her body still spilling female hormones and the like. His eyes weren't that good, but the features his vision picked up were feminine. The face was feminine, and the curves were the most feminine part. So, bottom line is, she was a woman, and mostly importantly didn't mean any harm. That was what he gathered.

What she was saying though was hard to pick up. So many words came out so suddenly and so quickly, that even though it was in a language he understood, most of it was completely inaudible. They should have been sentences, but Emli just heard quick murmurrs and whispers, especially the bits not spoken in English.


With some shuffling he twisted his body inside his hole around, facing Renata so he could talk to her properly. His face and identity was covered by a large gas mask, hiding his face and any features that might have identified him as human.

"HERRO RENAYA I AM EMRI!" He yelled his words at her. "I HAVE NEVER BEEN OOO RIVVIR OR GREOUR!" When she asked him if he was ever leaving his hole, he didn't hear her but his actions spoke for themselves when he crawled out of his hole again for the second time, slowly dragging the rest of himself out.

Offtopic: Hello Renata I am Emli. I have never been to Rivvil or Greoul. <--- What Emli said.

[Paroxysm]

Off Topic: Okay, I'm a little tipsy at the moment so ignore anything weird.

A momentary frown crossed Renata's features, her chin would be slightly lowered towards her chest and her eyes would waver for a second, however; this change would only last a few moments and would ultimately be replaced by a playful, if not unsettling, smile.

"Emri, ĉu? Ke estas ne tre bona nomo."

She already knew that the thing could not quite understand her, especially when she spoke in her preferred tongue, but the gist of what she said would be obvious what with some of the words she spoke having the atmosphere of being negative and positive, some were even close to their Common relatives, such as nomo being similar to 'name.'

"Ne! Vi--You--es Grundo."

She spoke as though it were fact, that the thing in front of her, the mole-person, this Emri, was, in fact; actually named Grundo.

Despite her demanding change of name the woman would now find that she was at a lost for words, having frightened the creature once, introduced herself, talked without pause, found out its name, and proceeded to change its name--there was not much else to converse about, still … She didn’t want to leave the thing, not without finding out more about it, after all; when was the next time such an opportunity would present itself?

“Come, Grundo. Hungry, jes? Mi--I will buy, it is my treat and we can talk more. Do not be scared, mi amiko.”

Renata Aldaine would not bother double checking if the thing was following her, it could very well escape now, as she was not entirely focused on it and she had already used her short-range teleportation spell for the day, a spell she could not repeat until twenty-four hours had passed.

The woman’s destination would be the tavern, an establishment she believed to be called The Philistines, a name she was not overly fond of, but she would do better not to judge it just yet. Hopefully they also served food, and if they didn’t, she could perhaps judge the effects of alcohol on her new friend, Grundo. Assuming he took her up on her invitation, of course.