Spellbinder's Cache [Mission - Open] (Read 438 times)

[loreline]

Mission: Spellbinder's Cache
Who Can Join: Novices or D-Class please!
Objective:

Marilla: Marilla, Doll. My Dolly. Please do Momma a favor. My sister has been ill. She has been out, searching for someone to cure her. Would you please, and I do request this of my Dolly, go to her house in the forest. Go there and bring me the spellbook from her shelf, the green one with the gems in it.

Others: On the Western Continent there is a large and dark forest. It is a dangerous forest, filled with mythical and magical creatures. It is a place where travelers should be cautious, but it also cut in two by a major road, traveled by anyone trying to get further inland. Lately, anyone entering the woods have been warned in town that there have been frequent spectral sightings.

The night was still in the forest. There were no sounds, silence. The frogs and crickets have taken off for the night, leaving a dark and quiet world behind. The ambience that was created was distressing. The moon and the stars shine down on the forest, turning trees into arms, and bushes into goals. The world has been transformed by darkness, and yet a young girl walks up the road, unfazed by it.

There is a single road running through the forest. It is a wide road, with fences on the side at random intervals. The road is sometimes paved, but, further in, time has worn away the pavement and left gravel behind. That is where the girl was walking. That was where the lantern was levitating in the grasp of a young girl heading north up the road. She and her light were out of place in this world, and even suspicious. Out of place, and walking through this evil landscape, some may have been convinced she was a specter.

That was to be associated with her appearance. The girl wore a peculiar outfit. Gothic in appearance, dark in color, she looked as if she was dressed for this time of day. And then there was the light on the wardrobe. The light was dim, so dim that, from a distance, it may have looked as if she were glowing herself. Her long hair, showing two different colors, also reflected the light. Then the most alarming features were her skin and her eyes. From afar her eyes glowed a bright blue, and her skin a bright white. She was glowing because of her plastic-like flesh, and the beads that were her eyes.

But even if they got close to her, anyone seeing the girl at this time of day may overlook those bizarre features.

The girl with an appearance like a doll’s was here in the forest searching for something.

[inaya sultan]

"What is that?" Pounding in repetition across the uneven road were the running limbs of Inaya Sultan, limbs that were near their limit. The fatigue of her body apparent through the quick breathes and sweat, which collected and rolled down temples and soaked the tight black attire wrapped around her torso and thighs. Even her socks and shoes had absorbed her body's tired secretions and would surely, and easily, pour out the salty substance if one attempted to squeeze them out. She was pretty sure that it squished with each step, possibly leaving a damp trail behind her -- but she held no mind toward it and simply continued on, ignoring the radiating soreness of calves, thighs and abdomen. Those reptilian oculars, though, focused ahead where a silhouette of light faintly moved through the darkness. 

The path she'd chosen today was of consequence to her location -- as she traveled to her home kingdom. As such, it was vastly unknown to her, though the Inn Keep she had retrieved a map of had warned her of ghosts, beasts and bandit thugs. Which would explain her extra accessory for that night's run; her katana, which was in an unusual positioning across her back, her obi wrapped around and under opposite shoulders and snugged into place a crimson sheathe. Though she was unconcerned over bandit thugs -- mythical creatures and paranormal entities were not something she'd take too lightly. Being apart of the small population that made up mages made such carelessness natural; though it enhanced awareness for that which surpassed the mundane. Which was surely the spectacle she saw wavering ahead, it's dim luminescence curious -- haunting. "Can ghosts even be seen so corporeal?" The indifference of her visage remaining steady despite the abnormality she was seeing and the exhaustion sneaking up on her with every thrust of her legs.

In short time, the large gap between the lightened silhouette and her darkened one closed. Yet, her inquiries had not ended. For what she saw, though not transparent as one would expect a ghost to be, was still completely aberrant. Though, the source of the light was distinguished quickly to be the lantern held in the plastic-like creature's hand. "You." Ten feet away, her voice, shaky with rapid breathes, would skip out suddenly -- announcing herself in case the creature would react defensively to suddenly being in company. Her stride too would diminish to that of a walking pace in further precaution, as her intrigue grew the closer she came as more abnormalities were spotted. Hair that was not hair, eyes that were not eyes -- even the clothing which draped around the surreal girl's form was out of place. "What on earth are you?" Her thought's prompt inquiry voicing itself without hesitation as her right hand fell behind her head, sweaty digitis wrapping around the leathery handle of Razalas' sword.

MADE BY MINNIE OF BACK TO NEVERLAND

[loreline]

This was a heated battle. Marilla thrust as hard as she could. She shoved and twisted and pulled, but her opponent was not kind. It struck back, and slashed at her. In this night air it was only a shadow. A dark shadow came back at her, and got her on all sides. She was twisted, and knocked around and nearly pushed back onto her rear. This may have looked like a legitimate fight, but she only wanted to get passed the underbrush.

A task such as that would have been easy for someone more muscular or taller than her. A better choice of clothing would have helped too. Her frail body, and bulky dress did not give her the weight or the slimness to get through the bushes and to the other side. That was no good. It was certainly no good because she knew she had to get into the woods. The house she searched for was not going to be on the side of the road. Her mistress told her that already. Having traveled this far up the road, she still saw no signs of it. Marilla was certain leaving the road was the only way she would find it.

But that was not an option right now. No matter how hard she tried, she could not get through the dense undergrowth. ”Over there?” She asked herself. A turn was performed at the same time. Her whole body pivoted as she directed it up the road again. But she could not make a single step before hearing an unfamiliar voice.

Unlike the woman that had grabbed her attention, Marilla did not react to the presence of the other person. She had fewer reasons to be frightened by the sudden guest. Even if she had any, her mistress gave her a job, and that was her only concern at this time. She greeted Inaya with a calm, composed and unfazed expression. If there were any questions she had to ask, who the woman was or why she was approaching her, they were asked by that single expression. There was nothing negative in it, just curiosity and a yearning to return to her work.

When a question was finally posed, the reply may have not been what Inaya wanted. In place of answer what she was, Marilla automatically answered a who question. ”My name is Amaryllis,” She introduced herself, and bowed as she did so. That was how she was trained to answer in situations like this.

If Inaya had nothing else to say or do, Marilla was going to return to her search.

[inaya sultan]

Halting such a strenuous run had not been the best of ideals, as she stood there, chest quickly inflating and lowering with the swift work of her lungs. The tired numbness of her calves soon vividly apparent, though it was brushed off with simple mindlessness as she forced such burdensome acknowledgement to the unlit caverns of her mind. There was something much more interesting that it was looking upon, after all; a doll creature desperately fighting the foliage of the woods. Then the apathetic response of her announcing outburst only reinforced the curiosity that had already, effortlessly, built it's foundation of: What Is This Strange Plastic Thread-Headed Girl? Which equaled great distraction from body's fatigue -- as well as any and all subjects that may of been present before the "Amaryllis" came into her sight.

"Aum-arey-lis?" The question, noticeably, had been avoided. Though Naya had not held any expectations for a proper response -- or a wrong one -- and simply took the answer in stride, nodding casually as her hand dropped. From the sight of the girl, whom could barely plow through bush, she had been no need to fret her presence. Mannerly and weak, what kind of aberrant manifestation was it? "What is it you're doing out here? You do not look like one who can take care of herself." That typical indifference soon overtaking her words once more as her breathing had already begun catching up to itself, turning into deep inhales of a closed mouth. 

Without considering the "whys" to her actions, the reptilian eye'd slayer would quietly advance passed the girl, a free hand brushing the cool layer of sweat from her brow as she her blade suddenly flashed out, temporarily reflecting the lantern light. Four swift swipes were given and a path was crafted among the thick bushes, which held no resistance against her katana's hungry edge. "How's that?" Her inquiry sounding in correspondence to the clicking of her sheath as her swords handle slapped into it. "You're not prepared at all, are you?" The statement possibly sounding rude, though she felt as if she were simply speaking the obvious. It was a strange encounter -- and the Slayer quite literally was unsure of how to interpret it. What she saw defied logic, which meant it had to follow the laws of something without limitation -- magic. Yet the girl offered her obligatory actions of response, when it appeared as if she were in a hurry. That left the question of why, for what, was she in a rush to retrieve? And if a magical entity, why could she not forge a simple path for herself? "And if human, why wasn't she prepared?" 

Too many questions and likely, not a single answer would be earned if she decided to voice them all. Had her intrigue of Magic not been so vast, she may of simply walked away -- but honestly, who could walk away after seeing a life-sized animated doll?

MADE BY MINNIE OF BACK TO NEVERLAND

[loreline]

Because the woman had more to say, Amaryllis would not leave. She did not walk away. To have done so would have been both rude and disrespectful, and she was incapable of such things. Although her mind was dead set on finding the mistress’ belongings, the way she was programmed was interfering. At first she only listened. Something that may not have been directed at her as an authentic question got her thinking.

The living doll remembered something that happened a short time ago. Her mistress, the witch, has company every week, and right now she remembered one of those visits. The person, an old woman herself, had trouble pronouncing four syllable name, and so she omitted one of them. Marilla was the name the woman invented, and the doll would repeat it now, ”Marilla.”

What came next was a more legitimate question. Since the unusual girl was so focused on her task, it should have been one easy to answer. At the rim of her mind she contemplated giving the woman the information she sought, but once again she had to combat a desire to fulfill the instructions the old woman gave her. One instance of instruction forbade her from telling the witch’s sister about the plan. The question was then how to interpret that rule in a situation such as this.

The question was taken from two sides. There was the evident fact that this woman did not look like the witch’s sister. Her younger appearance and different hair color showed that well. However, deep within the doll’s skull she realized that witches were capable of sorcery that was capable of changing their appearance. But to accept something like that was to accept that she should not tell anyone she encountered about what she was doing, and that was not how the witch worded the instruction. Returning to the literal meaning of what the woman said, she had to accept that this person was not the sister, and she was asking a question. It would have been rude to ignore it.

”I search for my mistress’ belongings. A house should be here.” The doll explained as well as she could. As she did this she scanned the area herself. Her beads covered the area thoroughly to show that the place she was looking for was nowhere to be seen. ”It is in these woods.”

What came next may have surprised the doll. If she was capable of showing distinct emotions, she may have jumped back or cried. However, as the woman cut through the foliage, all Marilla did was stare. When it had all been sliced her eyes met with the new path, looked it up and down, and then when she found it approvable she bowed and said, ”Thank you.” That was all she said in response to the first question that followed.

What the woman meant by prepared differed from the doll’s. She may have meant prepared to take on the growth around her, but Marilla could only reply by holding up the lantern and saying, ”I have this.” That was all the witch had given her.

[inaya sultan]

Through the silence of the doll's contemplation, or mindlessness, as Naya had not quite figured out how to read the creature, she'd remain still. Crimson pools carelessly burning into the beady eyes of the plastic creation. The emptiness of the girl's expression familiar to her own, making it difficult to discern what exactly was going on behind those false blue eyes. When a nickname was presented, however, the impression of what she was dealing with became a tad less foggier. To "come up" with an easier version to something, anything, suggested legitimate thought. Even if it was pulled from another basis. 

Marking off robot in the list of potentialities she'd absentmindedly came up for the creature, she'd relay another nod. "Marilla. You may address me as Inaya, or Naya. Which ever you prefer." Now to figure out if it possessed more humanistic qualities; favoritism was certainly a defining trait of humans. It was also a choice. Artificial intelligence, as far as she knew, could not manufacturer an answer to a question of choice -- though, there were a variety of species, sub-human or otherwise, that also reflected such willpower. "If only you'd of answered my simple question." Pondering on "what" something was would probably provide a waste of thought, but, it was always handy to have certain information. Especially when in strange company.

The following statement and thanks caused the Slayer's brows to furrow and quirk slightly, the perplexity of the encounter duplicating with every word that escaped Marilla's pale plastic lips. "You're a slave?" Stringing together invisible connections was nearly an impossible task, one that her mind was currently digging into. An animated doll, with apparent thought, possibly in possession of emotions although unknown, was working on the behalf of another. From the earlier display of Marilla's attempt at digging into the bushes, she'd make a guess of either a) she really wanted and desired to find her Mistresses belongings or b) simply was functioning to the best of her ability in order to carry out her owner's commands. 

"I have this."

Naya's contemplative gaze widened momentarily, before something rare occurred; a crack of a smile appeared. The blatant honesty, and cluelessness, igniting the rarest of her spectrum of emotions; amusement. Though she would not laugh, and her smile would quickly fade away with the shake of her head, dismissing the humor in the action. "Indeed." Pausing momentarily, she'd make a last minute decision, then quickly continued on. "I've decided to provide assistance to you on your task. My consciousness could not handle leaving such a helpless person out on her own." Deceit washed over the words, as they were fabricated into existence, suggesting a semblance of actual moral consciousness -- which was false, Inaya did not care for the well being of this creature. She simply wished to learn more of it, and possibly, gain something from it. When abnormal things happened, there seemed to be an everlasting effect after it and she had no intention of letting potential opportunity pass. 

"Besides. My mind wouldn't shut up if I walked away now."

Taking a step back, she'd spread her sweat glistening arm out before her makeshift entrance and bowed her head. An act, she had observed to be in correspondence to the statement of "After you, M'ilady."

MADE BY MINNIE OF BACK TO NEVERLAND

[loreline]

There was no blinking as Marilla looked at this woman. Even as the night air stroked her beads, she lacked the ability to blink. She did not need it. So as she stood there her expression gave off a lifeless aura. It would have been hard to tell that she was living. But then the woman introduced herself. Like Marilla had, she gave two versions of her name. That did not make referring to her easier for the doll though. It was not enough for the girl to call another person by their name. It had to be the most formal of names, and then with a formal title. She did not know much about this person, so she could only say, ”Yes, Miss Inaya,” And then she bowed politely.

Appropriately, the conversation came to a subject that should have been obvious already. The action that the doll had just performed was proof enough that she was not a dominant figure. Inaya made the assumption that Marilla was a slave. She was one. Deep down inside, the doll knew that she fit the description of a slave. But she would be unable to confirm what the woman had inferred. To call this servitude slavery would, in a way, suggest that the witch was doing wrong. The doll could not say anything bad about the witch.

”I am a servant.” She was a servant without will or pay, but the nicest way to put it was still servitude. She gave that answer in a monotone and solemn way, as had become customary thus far. The doll took a break from that submissive persona. After declaring herself a servant, she followed what she said with some honesty. First she would say, ”It’s different.” Then she would use a loophole in the curse that made her submissive. The next words to leave her mouth did not seem like they followed, but as she whispered, ”It’s much worse,” It was obvious what she meant.

The inner emotions of the doll girl were not limited to revealing those difficult feelings in a short phrase. When the woman said that she would assist her something strange happened. The doll stared at the woman. Her brow moved and the expression she showed could only be concern. The doll could not say it, but she did not want the woman helping her. If she did there was a chance that the witch would spot her. Marilla did not want that, but she could not refuse this person. Instead, all she could do was lead the way into the forest.

She was back to searching for the house, whether she wanted to or not. Marilla looked both ways after entering the woods, and then moved to the left. That direction had the fewest obstacles.

[Fang the Defiler]

Where crickets and birds may have left this desolate forest that stretched grim, emty hands towards victims who might fall along the way, it was home to darker creatures, creatures out for a pleasant stroll along the withered gardened roads alongside him. Helot was a demon of a particular taste, and traveling by way of branch was an effective and stealthy way to go. He might not be the most experienced of fighters, but he showed his true colors often enough to throw his weight around effectively. His red eyes glowered from the darkness, a being dwelling above as he leaped from branch to branch, making barely a sound as his feet were silenced by the hollow moan of the trees shaking and whispering.

His goal was as hidden as he was in the trees, his shadow blending with that of the clawed tangle of branches above, blocking what little light shown down upon the ground. He hadn't traveled far, perhaps a mile or so into the woods where perhaps he could hunt something down worth his interest. He was hungry, his jaws salivating promise of some hapless traveler, but what he didn't expect to find was the scent of a fellow Raven Tail in the wind. It was paired with another smell, a lifeless one of staleness and deception, but he couldn't make it out. He would require to draw in closer for a more precise inspection.

So he did, slowly approaching the area above the two figures as they traveled through the forest, a dull lantern lighting their way like a beacon out to sea. A glimmer of a smile resembling a crescent moon crept along his face. The older figure, that was the scent of familiarity, but what was she doing with a little girl who had little scent? Was she even alive, or perhaps some inorganic doll? He would continue to observe them from above, his figure still as death as his nostrils twitched pleasantly at Inaya's aroma, half feminine, half shared guild.

[inaya sultan]

Had Naya fallen along the category of a normal mage and had not first hand experienced the surrealism that was a Dragon, she may of found the plastic-creature's face mildly eerie. It's stillness unwavering; even her lids did not blink in mimicry to human action, she just stared. Stared, spoke, and moved at the ends of invisible strings which were manipulated by an unknown Master. And, given the fact that she had actually managed to choose a name, it definitely possessed something human. A fact that would become all the more clear as the moments passed and the doll's voice purred out again, it's monotone drone stranger as her thoughts considered the lack of lubrication that surely was within her mouth. But it was a consideration shortly lived, as the following statements amounted to something incredibly larger than whether or not the creature had saliva. 

"You are trapped." Her declaration more so sounding the conclusion of her mind rather than an initiation of conversation -- as that would not happen, she knew. Her naturally observant nature catching on to the girl's strange method of revealing. A method that was round about and indirect, one that left implication rather than stating solid fact. At least that was how it was for the last bit, whereas the rest was straight-forward and direct, certain.. "allowed." There was someone, something, that was truly trapped behind those beady eyes. She would wonder on the what sorts of magic could lead to such; a soul-binding, an advanced form of Doll Play or somewhere along the infinite lines of supernatural magics that were, generally, beyond human reach. It was a limitless spectrum of possibility, but one that she decided was worth investigating. Deep down, beneath the reason of potentially gaining something from this adventure, the minuscule but very real part of her untouched by darkness wished to help the girl. Slavery. She knew how that was and hated it with all the hate that she could ever possibly harbor. Something she desperately tried to avoid thinking about.

When the doll's face changed, though, the dragon slayer found herself taken-aback. She knew what she had just seen. Legitimate concern. An expression she had only ever seen on the faces of those protecting their "friends" or family. An expression she had not received in several, long, years. The last persons whom had ever given her such a face were long dead, two by the jaws of a winged beast and the other by her own sword. It tried to rekindle the pain of her childhood loss, the flame of her humanity. But she fought it, as she always had, and simply followed after the girl, taking advantage of the fact that it could not outright deny her willingness to help. Whatever dangers may lay ahead, she would face it with the same cold but ferocious action as she always had. If there was anything she knew with certainty in this life it was the act of survival, the singular accomplishment of her life. Even if it was also her greatest failure. 

The forged pathway lead to an unremarkable scenery, as it consisted of nothing but plain and thick forestry. Marilla instantly breaking off to the left, another action she felt was robotic in nature due to the immediate picking of simplicity. She debated on interjecting and offering to guide so that she may hack away, to create a more straightforward and less weaving route. But she'd decide against it, her eyes shifting upward instead as she hoped to catch a glimpse of the moon. But her vision was met with thick and twisting branches, each top weaving into the next in eerie symphony. Though, even as she did so, she'd not manage to catch the demon that was stalking behind and above them. Unlike a lot of Dragon Slayers, she lacked the abnormality of enhanced senses. Her eyes, magic and torment seeming to be the only reward of her own servitude.

MADE BY MINNIE OF BACK TO NEVERLAND

[loreline]

A game of tug-o-war was played within the depths of the doll’s mind. Part of her wanted to be more considerate of her new partner. Even if the witch’s magic limited her, she still was capable of conversation. Because that would have been respectful and the right thing to do, she could talk with this woman Inaya. In her head she knew she could. Moreover, she knew she should talk to the woman. But there was a funny sensation. It was as if her body was telling her that there was no way that was happening. Her open and friendly inner thoughts were bound by the more reserve personality given to the doll form.

The other side of the war was more than outer emotions. Her attention was lured away from the woman. Her body was on autopilot, and focused on discovering the location of the house. Even if she could get her body to talk to inaya, she would have been unable to because that same body was constantly scanning the area. Once it was done checking everything around her, her eyes went back to where they started and she searched again. There was no stopping her unless the woman spoke to her.

That did happen. Right after she gave the brief words that defined her captivity Inaya summarized her situation best as being trapped. But there was not going to be a response. The doll was unable to nod in agreement with that deduction, and she did not want to speak up and deny it. That was what would happen, and it was inaccurate. It would not help her. That was why she said nothing to that and went about her search.

But the longer her body searched, the longer her mind had to dwell. There was nothing to think about right now. All that was on her mind was finding the house, Inaya, and the brief exchange they had. The house did not consume much of her mental resources. None really because there was none to be found. That left Inaya and thoughts of her captivity. She wanted to discuss it more, but she couldn’t. She wanted to talk more, but she did not know how. It seemed as if the only way to exchange her thoughts was to do so while discussion the job she was on.

”Where would it be?” She questioned in a whisper. This inquiry that finally left her mouth was not directed at Inaya in particularly though, since the doll was facing the forest. But soon after she would turn towards the woman and clarify by saying, ”The house.” She then turned to face the woods again, and continued to walk.

[Fang the Defiler]

Helot's presence was a constant force, his body blending into the darkness of the forest with ease. Head bent, he continued to listen to their conversation, their words like honey singing sweetly in his ears; the doll girl had mentioned something about a house, positioning her words in a way that he assumed would be seeking. So they were hunting something down, but what was this about a house? A clawed finger tapped idly upon his chest, each stroke bringing a wider faced grin to his lips. It wasn't long before a soft note of laughter seeped passed his lips. Didn't he see a house cloaked underneath the shadow of the trees back where he had came?

As the girl picked a decided direction and started to walk where the path intended to take them, the demon stirred above, his nostrils sniffing the air excitedly as they began to put themselves in motion. They wouldn't get far without a disturbance, however, when the branches above shook, shivering with the purposeful weight that was Helot's frame. A couple withered looking leaves fell towards the ground, dropping around the area where both of them were. It would no doubt put a stir of concern within their head...Were they being watched?

Everything was going according to plan.

[inaya sultan]

"There it is again." She thought, as the doll neither denied or confirmed her conclusion. Which indicated it's truth. She'd find the coldness of her expression softening ever so slightly, though she kept heroic thoughts at bay. There was no need for her to act rashly, especially in place of this stranger. But as her thoughts replayed memories of her own suffering, she could not fully deny the sympathy that was the twinge of sorrow she felt for this creation. Even if the creature did not appear in pain, she had spoken volumes with "It's much worse." A statement she truly could connect with, despite her desire to avoid such burdensome emotion. 

Without having a source to refocus her attention on, or to let out anger -- a comforting emotion in the face of the nuisance of humanity -- she'd simply fall back on to the task. The task of searching for the house. "Where would it be?" The slayer's automatic response sounding from her throat in the form of a hmm? before the rest of Marilla's statement was finished, as she turned to face her. "The house." Her gaze would stray from the girl and ahead, around. Taking in the sights that succumbed them in the dead of night. There existed no other indication of human-life around, as no lights shone through the thick foliage. Only twisting shadows taunting their own darkness could be seen through the spaces between trees and bushes. And she realized, without a more definite direction of the home, they'd be stuck searching for hours, if not more.

"I'll look from above."  In unison to her statement came the stir from ahead, branches rattling suddenly with unnatural strength and leaves began to fall. One promptly sat atop the Slayer's head only to slide off as she shifted her gaze upward, the intention of her comment coming into light -- quite literally -- as electricity suddenly sparked behind her frame. The faint blue abruptly blazing in the darkness as wings literally seemed to sprout from her shoulders, wings completely condensed of one of nature's cruelest dangers, lightning. The sudden illumination of it caused their surroundings, as well as even the user's own flesh, to appear blue, as it's blaze shone brighter than that of the lantern in the pale girl's grasp. But most noticeably seen was the figure that Inaya's eyes were firmly planted on, the one in the tree. Dangerously her gaze narrowed and her body would feel weightless as she consciously flapped each of her massively draconic makeshift wings, easily rising. "Who's there?" Her tone calm, steady, as was the hand which released her katana from it's confinement. 

MADE BY MINNIE OF BACK TO NEVERLAND