[GW2] From the Depths

[Tys]

[ OOC Thread: From The Depths ]

Farshore Ward; Starry nights were common in Lion's Arch. The southern position of the city made the climate much warmer than the Shiverpeaks or even Divinity's Reach, thus less rain and clouds. A former mecca for enterprise and trade, the city of ships was once known as the hub of Tyria. Orr's rising changed everything and the past two hundred and fifty years forced those who survived to adapt to the new geography. Boats that were upturned became towering buildings used for various types of business and residence. On the outskirts of the main city of Lion's Arch farms were re-established and used to support the local food requirements of the area. Farshore Ward was a decent distance to the east of The Agora -- which was the main center of Lion's Arch. Doylak caravans took the daily supplies to and from Farshore's farms back to the The Agora to keep the chain of commerce flowing. Silence permeated the fields late at night, giving the Ward a calm that was not present in The Agora.

One of the farms in the Ward still had a light on, illuminating the starlit night with a halo of yellow. On the dusty, wooden porch of the farmhouse was a young human girl with a straw broom in both hands. The warmth of the night and breeze from the Inner Harbor warranted the short, white dress she wore. She brushed the broom across the surface of the porch methodically as if she had done it a thousand times. A faint rustle from the tall grass fields a few yards from her house broke her sweeping trance. Soft green eyes peered up from the tan wood and squinted to get a better visual of the dark grass.

"Hello?" she asked, wondering if someone was lost -- the roads could get quite confusing at night.

Silence was the only response she got from her call. Tall blades of grass rustled once more when she started to finish her chore of sweeping the porch.

"...helloooo?" she queried again, hoping to get a response after the second movement in the field.

A look of concern formed on her face after another reply of complete quiet. The young girl tucked her broom underneath her arm as she opened the front door to her farmhouse. She moved to enter but found herself hitting a solid wall. A tilt back of her head revealed that the wall was a human body. A small smile pulled at her thin lips and she let out an exhale with a hand pressed to her chest.

"William. You scared me," she chuckled.

William was a good six inches taller than her with an average farmer's build: somewhat stocky with muscles gained from doing manual labor. His skin was paler than normal with a few of his veins visible and blue underneath his skin. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gripped her firm.

"William, you okay?" she tried to take a step back from William.

Her concerned was replaced when William did not respond to her questions. The farmer's mouth opened up to reveal his teeth and release a low groan of instinctual hunger. His eyes were an inky black hue from sclera to iris. Wendy could not even scream when she saw who she thought was William unhinge his jaw to unnatural proportions. Her left hand slapped William's hand away from her shoulder just in time to avoid his lunge to grab her in some sort of bear hug. Even with her body shaking from head to toe, Wendy managed to back off of the porch and watch as William staggered towards her.

Before she knew it the tall grass of the field covered her from sight and gave her the idea to turn and run. Wendy lifted a leg to began her sprint from danger but it did not move an inch. Frantically, she tugged at whatever was keeping her from moving, almost dragging herself through the grass for a few paces. Wendy's escape came to an end when her other ankle was prevented from moving, leaving her stuck in mid-stride. She toppled over and fell onto the dark soil of the field. Her soft eyes looked up to see that she was face-to-face with a pale face riddled with gashes and hanging skin. A scream echoed out into the night, unheard by the other farms that were miles away from her location.

__________________________________________________________

The Rosewind Tavern, Next Day; Most of the Eastern Ward consisted of open fields. Daytime in Lion's Arch was full of activity across the entire city. The Rosewind was a place for travelers and locals to gather outside of the Grand Plazza and the Agora for a more relaxed and casual drink. The tender was an older human with a round stomach and most of his hair lost to better years. His dark eyes watched the newcomer sitting at the back of the tavern. The man came in a few hours ago and seemed content just watching other people come and go.

"Everything okay there, pal?" the bartender asked while cleaning out the inside of a tankard.

The newcomer turned his head from the door and looked over to the tender without saying anything. A tiny smirk tugged at one side of the man's mouth as he lifted a hand to reassure the tender.

"Fine," he began, "Just waiting on a friend."

Neith Hawke was a well-built man with a mix between being muscular and athletic. Though his profession had him working with mechanics and inventions, he remembered to take time out to keep his body in good condition. Any good engineer would not neglect physical health for more time experimenting -- at least that was his belief. Being a human engineer meant he was always compared to the genius-level intellect of the asura. It was an annoyance that he was forced to deal with whenever he sought out a contract. Only in Divinity's Reach did he find some semblance of preference towards humans -- and that was part of the biased towards the tiny tinkerers.

One hand brushed over the neatly trimmed goatee around his jawline and lips. His face could peg him somewhere between late twenties and early thirties: handsome, rugged, and plenty of depth to his brown eyes. Even his voice was one of a seasoned inhabitant of Tyria, carrying a fair amount of bass to command attention when needed and the proper amount of smooth to not frighten everyone with the baritone sound.

His reason for being in Lion's Arch had to do with a conversation he overhead in Divinity's Reach. Something about the potential of disaster hitting Lion's Arch, but after a week of searching everything came up to a dead end. Today he was going to take the time to reconsider where they were searching and asking about strange rumors. They being him and the person he traveled with to Lion's Arch. For that purpose the Rosewind Tavern was a nice, quiet place that would allow him to think without too much chatter.

Neith kept his weapons holstered so he did not startle the barkeep any further. His leather clothing was a mix of browns, tans, and whites -- with the whites looking a little faded from wear and tear. Fashion was not at the top of his lists when it came to priorities for the day. Raised as a commoner with expectations placed on him on the level of a noble, Neith was a mix of the human condition of being raised in Divinity's Reach, but that was another story for another time.

"I'll have another one of those brown ales," he added, tossing the tender a bundle of coin from his seated position at the back table.

[Vyvian]

At the man's request, the tender paused as his hand took the weight of that offered coin, his dark eyes lifted towards the large doors of entry at the Rosewind Tavern as they swung inwards. What had first meant to be little more than a passing glance had quickly become a long drawn out stare at the new patron. She was a blossom of color in an otherwise quiet and almost dreary establishment with the glistening otherworldly color of her brilliant cerulean hair. It fell in heavy layered waves around the Sylvari woman's lovely face, her almost white flesh making it stand out in brilliance. More unique were the chrystalline cerulean gems of her eyes that seemed to glitter like the sun on pebbles in a stream. They seemed to scan the room for a moment before they settled first on the barkeep with Neith's coin pouch in one hand and an empty but clean tankard in the other. Her full lips curved into a brief smile that didn't quite reach her eyes as she moved across the room towards the table where he was sitting. Anemone's footsteps clicked across the floor, the long folds of her sheer light blue dress kicking around her thighs, the high slit up the center giving ease to her movement that was already fluid as she was. Her dress was a market of various shades of the sea that wrapped around her body in a fall of fabric that left little betrayal of her physique before it wrapped around her neck. Despite her lovely exterior, the woman's usual jovial expression was absent her face as she settled into the chair beside Neith, her eyes cautious on the bartender who hadn't moved an inch from his seat.

"I'll have a drink, please." Which was an usual statement that sounded foreign in the melody of her voice, considering that since Anemone and Neith had left Divinity's Reach she hadn't ordered a drink once. The old tender seemed to shake himself from his stupor in the resulting silence feeling her eyes patiently on him.

"Sure. Yes. Of course. Ale?" he asked, catching himself before he walked off to the bar in a haste to get her drink before she had even ordered it.

She shook her head. "Smaller. Stronger. Please." With a nod he vanished to fill her order and she sighed heavily, raking a hand through those unique strands to pull them away from her face, the obviously troubled expression she had been trying to hide when she gave entrance to that tavern bubbling to the surface. It looked foreign on her exotic face and she turned to Neith before he could say anything.

"I think I might finally have found us a solid lead," she started in a grim tone which was opposite of what that news should have meant.

"You know that woman we've heard rumors about, Doris? She was claiming to be a seer but everyone is convinced she's-" Anemone paused, stumbling over the word. Instead she twirled her finger adjacent her ear, signaling the question of this seer's sanity. "Well, they haven't trusted what she's had to say. We were running short on leads, so I figured what would be the harm?" Anemone shrugged her slim shoulders just as the bartender returned with a small glass of deep red liquid and Neith's ale which he set down in front of each of them. She produced a small braided leaf pouch and held it out to the man who smiled and took it from her before retreating reluctantly back to the bar to resume wiping out mugs.

Anemone stared down into her small glass, her fingertips playing around the lip of it before she took a deep breath and turned back to Neith, lifting her eyes to his.

"At first, she was as I feared she would be - as everyone seems to think she is. But something she said, I held onto. She knew I had come from Divinity's Reach. She called me - a wolf tamer." At that, Anemone raked a hand through her hair and she didn't have to mention the man's name that the wolf tamer reference had been directed about. "And then she knew I was here with you. And that we had come here looking for something - evil. I think...I found it..."

~*~*~*~ 

It was hard to tell there had ever been life when all there was everywhere was so much death. Great pools of red stained the grass, disturbed by the events leading up to a traumatic event. Given the volumes of red, Anemone was sure that wherever it had come from was no longer alive. Death was a foul smell of rot on the air and she lifted a hand to cover her nose and mouth with watchful and attentive eyes. Despite the gore that stained the ground like a wicked wound, Anemone had gone there with a purpose. Her fears had been confirmed when she'd felt death heavy and prevalent on the air.

Anemone came to stand at the foot of the stairs leading up to a small farmhouse, her eyes turning first towards the door that stood ajar and then out across the empty fields. The stillness on the air was unnerving and she waited for even the sounds of the wind to disturb it. Her feet stepped quietly through the grass, following the impressions where someone was quite obviously dragged with resistance. She paused and knelt to investigate the direction the blades of grass were bent and to inspect the divets in the ground where chunks of earth had been torn up. The struggling continued the farther the trail continued growing more desperate and futile and becoming more obvious.

Nothing prepared the Sylvari woman for what she would find...

A woman, or rather the remains of a woman were left bare to the sun at the edge of the field. She was more blood and sinew than anything identifiable. Bits of bone stood out clean and white, the edges gnawed off to marr their perfect edges. Her head and torso remained in one large piece where she lay face down. Her long brown hair lay in a curtain over her face for with Anemone was greatful but what was left of her white dress was stained brown and red with dirt and blood. Her limbs had been chewed down to painful nubs, their shape lost in what had been left behind.

~*~*~*~

"Something had...eaten her..." Anemone continued, her face twisted in the same gruesome expression that had been on it when she'd found the young woman. She lifted that glass finally to her mouth and drank down its contents in one quick swig, setting it empty back beneath her fingertips as she let go of the breath she had been holding. Death was not normally something that bothered, Anemone, given the natural cycle of life - death was merely a progression of life. There hadn't been anything natural about the remains she had found. Anemone fell into silence, her eyes fastened on a natural knot in the wood of the table top.

[Catri]

Honora Beaumont was trying to appear inconspicuous. She affected a casual demeanor as she slipped into the Rosewind Tavern and ordered a mug of ale from the bar tender. She smoothed out the fine silk skirt of her Indigo blue dress and hoped her attempt to look more like a Lion's Arch farmer's daughter than a noble woman from Divinity's reach had worked. She had dressed in her plainest dress and left all of her jewelry at home except for the ornate silver clip that held her red hair back in an intricate braid. She had even wore a brand new pair of black work boots.

Her uncle had told her it was absolutely vital that he get an ancient artifact from a man in Lion's Arch, but he would not be able to retrieve it himself. He had insisted that Honora was the only person he trusted to retrieve such a valuable item. She was beginning to worry about him .Her uncle was a nobleman and a noted scholar of elemental magic. He took her in after her parents died when she was a baby and trained her as an elementalist. For the past twenty four years he had been her only family, but  had been acting very strangely of late, spending long hours locked away in his study or slipping away without telling anyone where he was going. Honora had been worried about making the journey alone, but she owed her uncle so much that she felt couldn't refuse his request.

Honora examined the room trying to spot the person who looked most likely to be her contact. Her soft hands trembled slightly as she took the mug of ale from the bar tender. She felt very much out of place. She had little information about the person she was looking for other than instructions to meet him at the Rosewind Tavern that afternoon.

[Tys]

"Eaten?" he asked, not quite sure of what she said. The idea of people, specifically humans, eating other humans was a bit grotesque -- even for Neith's experienced eyes.

A small exhale came from his lips once he fully processed the information. Rumors of the dead rising were often spread along by traders and caravans that moved from Divinity's Reach to Lion's Arch. The undead of Orr rising from the depths of the ocean and consuming the living was no laughing matter to many inhabitants of the seaside city. If those tales were true then the old seer might not have been as kooky as she first appeared. That also meant there were actual beings that were once dead -- and not in the magical sense -- now back from the grave of two hundred and fifty years ago: a bit of a problem to say the least.

Neith turned up the mug of ale towards his mouth, finishing off the rest of the strong liquor in one large gulp. Without missing a beat, he waved his empty container towards the barkeep to order more alcohol. Drinking was not a hobby for the rugged engineer, but he learned years ago that bad news can be numbed with a few ales or three. He turned his gaze back to Anemone -- the first time he actually looked at her since she revealed what she discovered -- and saw that she was greatly disturbed.

"Where?" he questioned with the knowledge that they would be leaving the Rosewind Tavern soon.

The entrance of another patron broke the grim mood that settled over the back area where the sylvari and human were sitting. Neith quickly sized up the new arrival before starting to turn his attention back to Anemone. Again, his attempt to block everything out but the troubling discovery was interrupted by the doors to the tavern swinging wide open.

A round, stocky man stepped inside with sweat adding a sheen to his chubby face. His clothing was typical for a farm hand or laborer around the ports: decent hat to block the sun, overalls covered by a worker's jacket, thick boots to protect the feet, and grungy gloves hanging from a pants pocket. His skin was peachy and on the verge of turning the type of pale not commonly associated with people from Lion's Arch. Tiny eyes searched the tavern before spotting the person he was sent to meet.

"Did you have to come this far out?" he complained to Honora, taking a seat next to her and reaching into his pocket.

A white cloth stained with soot was produced and placed on the bartop in front of the human woman. He raised his hands to his lips to indicate that they should speak in hushed tones.

"Does anyone else know that you're here?" he whispered.

[Vyvian]

Anemone could only nod when he questioned the validity of what she had witnessed. She, more than anyone, wanted the discovery to be completely false - a fabrication of her mind. Unfortunately, that which she had laid her eyes had been a haunted site she would never erase from her memory.

"The farm is on the southern edge of Lion's Arch where the land is rich. I saw several acres prepared for seed, and likely more beyond the remains of those who lived there. I didn't stay longer to investigate. I felt it was wiser to return and find you. If whatever caused so much death were to return, I have no illusions that I wouldn't need your help." Ever the honest and forth coming Sylvari, she smiled at him - a shadow of the luminescence she was capable of spreading over her features. Her vibrantly colored eyes dropped to the small empty glass where she played the tip of her finger around its edge.

"No one deserves to die as she did." Anemone added in a quiet voice absent emotion with a slow shake of her head from one side to another. "And I can hardly believe this will end with this one occurrence. Something predatorial descended on that farm and devoured those present. They were bloodthirsty, savage, and most importantly: hungry. That nature is not one easily fulfilled and when comes the time we will have more bodies picked clean of flesh to try and identify."

Despite the morbid nature, there was absolute and unhindered truth. If they didn't jump to action, Anemone was prepared for the worst. If they could find a way to take action and prevent more needless death, then it was the route they would need to take. Anemone turned towards him, propping her chin in her hand as she did so the curtain of her voluminous sea blue locks fell over her face and pooled on the table-top.

"So, what now?"

[Catri]

A brief spark of panic ignited in Honora at the stranger's words. She realized that the only person who knew she was there was probably brooding in his study in Divinity's Reach at the moment. It was rare for a young noblewoman to travel alone, but her uncle had insisted that she tell no one about her journey.

She examined the man in front of her. She assumed he was the man she was sent sent her to meet, but other than that she knew nothing about him. For all she knew he was a low life con artist who lured curious nobles to their deaths with the promise of a mysterious treasure. She didn't even know anything about the artifact that her uncle was so eager to acquire.

Honora leaned toward the man and whispered, "Many people know I'm here. My Uncle Caspar wouldn't send me on such a long and arduous journey without a flock of servants to attend me, and he expects us to return any day now."  She prayed to the gods that her lie would afford her some safety. He wouldn't rob her and kill her if he thought she would have a crowd of people to investigate her disappearance, would he?

[Tys]

"Good good," replied the messenger sitting next to Honora.

A dingy rag was produced from one of his pockets and used to pat down the sheen of sweat building on his face. It was a warm day in Lion's Arch -- which was not rare -- and he walked a considerable length to get to the tavern. A cautious glance was directed at the duo in the back, noting that sylvari of any type were still a special sight even in Lion's Arch. After a pregnant pause, the round farm hand reached into his jacket pocket and produced a golden sigil. It was circular in shape and about two times larger than a standard coin. Its weight proved it to be true gold and the etching of a fist clenched was chiseled into the front.

"Forgive the condition," he apologized, "I did not have much time to shine it. I was in a hurry this morning."

The merchant opened his mouth to finish explaining about the condition of the sigil when the door to the tavern flung open. It startled the man so much that he almost jumped clear out of his skin. He placed his right hand over his heart and turned to see what type of person would open a door in such a manner. That was when he attempted to leave his body for a second time in a matter of seconds.

Heavy footfalls clunked across the wooden floor of the Rosewind after the alarming slam of the doors against their backstops. Tall was not good enough to describe the human that trudged their way into the tavern. Seven feet was abnormal for human size and other races -- especially the norn -- deemed it rather short, but for a human it was massive. A low, guttural huff came from the man's throat as he craned his head around the tavern. It was not until he spotted the merchant speaking to Honora that he let out a enraged wail that did not sound human at all.

The messenger scrambled from his seat as fast as his chubby legs could take him before he was literally lifted into the air by the human giant in one swift charge and grab motion. Further in the light the sickly grey skin on the seven foot berserker identified him as morbidly ill or worse: post mortem. What came next was grotesque in a way that was disturbing for even a hardened warrior. A wet crunch came as the grey monster bit into the neck of the struggling merchant, spilling the chubby man's blood from his major artery into the air.

Two gunshots rang out in the tavern that caused the feasting berserker to drop his latest meal. Holes in the shoulder and chest gaped open from the bullets lodged into his flesh. All white eyes turned to the direction of the projectiles, spotting the human with the smoking gun standing in the back of the tavern. Another bone-chilling howl of rage and hunger echoed in the tavern, causing the shell-shocked barkeep to move into hiding.

"He's about the charge," he warned, readying his shield in along his left arm to brace for the behemoth's rush. Anemone's level of readiness did not concern him, but she was not the only other person in the tavern. His dark brown eyes flickered over to the human woman he did not know, hoping she would take the time to find some sort of safety. That was the whole purpose of drawing the monster's attention in the first place.

[Vyvian]

Anemone reacted much as Neith had, taking her place just beside him when he had fired off several rounds into the undead's body and was equally prepared when he turned his attention from the merchant and onto the pair of them. They would have precious seconds to react of meet much of the same fate. Despite the man's large and humanoid appearance, Anemone had sensed the otherworldly nature of him - that which made him just not quite right in the eyes of the living.

"I always meet such interesting people with you." Given the serious and honest tone of Anemone's voice, it was obvious the woman was far from joking as she lifted a hand up behind the man, blue light spilling into her palm which she released in the form of fine mist that covered the distance between them and the undead abomination in a matter of seconds. The light spackled the floor, instantly coating it in what could only be described as living water that gathered like molecules one on top of the other. When the fiend turned to charge on them he would be met with a considerable amount of terrain to cross, the water gathering around its ankles until its feet disappeared within the magical pond. The unearthly blue of Anemone's eyes seemed to ripple like the glossy surface of the element she had called forth as she lifted a hand to her mouth and blew through her clenched fingers a gust of arctic wind that froze the undead creature in place, fastened up to his calves with thick heavy crystals of ice that crawled on top of each other like a spider on its web. Anemone knew it wouldn't last for too long, but long enough she suspected to get the patrons of the Rosewind Tavern to safety.

"Anyone not able to defend themselves, I strongly suggest vacate the tavern, immediately." Anemone announced as those fluid eyes looked to the residents there in kind, her lovely face kept sternly neutral so as not to insight further panic into those there. The Sylvari woman remained within arm's reach of her partner, who she trusted to keep eyes on the new and unnatural enemy while she tried to calmly direct people which was proving to be difficult given the volumes of blood spilled across the floor and down the front of the cadaver's large body from its last meal.

[Catri]

Honora screamed loudly when the "man" took a bite out of her contact. Her head whipped around to face the back of the tavern at the sound of the gunshot. She could see a human man and a Sylvari woman who looked like they were preparing to take on the beast. Honora wrinkled her brow in recognition as the Sylvari used a frost spell to temporarily freeze her opponent to the ground. She was about to comment on the other elementalist's beautiful form in executing the spell when she remembered the dire nature of the situation at hand.

Honora slipped the sigil in her pocket and began moving toward the door. Suddenly she shrieked.  Before she could even clear the other end of her table Honora was on the ground skidding toward the monster on a pool of blood. She rolled to the side just in time to dodge one of the creature's hands as he reached down to grab her. She didn't have much practice using elemental magic in combat, but she remembered some lightning spells her uncle had taught her.

Honora reached behind her head and pulled two hair pins out of the base of her braid. The jeweled handle of each pin tapered to a point forming a dagger blade. Honora raised the dagger in her right hand charging it with energy that encompassed her in a glowing field. There was a sizzling sound when the creature reached for her again as he was stunned by the electricity surrounding her. Honora's left hand quickly shot forward and bolts of lightning snaked out from the tip hitting her attacker.