Through the Living Wrath

@Born of Mist @Kansas Stormcursed @Honors ghost @CoderDrag0n8 The fifth member of their crew turned to Nikolas. “He’s saw it. Some coal dust or another. You need to kill him.” Nikolas shook his head. “No! If he saw it, he would have stopped us. We’re fine.” The member rolled their eyes. “Fine. But this is on your hand.” Nicholas turned, then took ahold of the reins.

Deffa! I’ve got a plot line, need to introduce my character to someone (hes already established, but he needs to interact with someone right now.)

The official held up his hand. “Peace. I’m not here to hurt you. Noble’s not all bad. I’m just worried about your cabby…” He looks around, then nods. “Everything looks to be in order!” He starts to turn, then hesitates, narrowing his eyes. He soon shook his head. “Yep! We’re fine.” He started to walk away.

See I know that chthonic doesn’t mean this But it makes me think of some lovecraftian monster - servant of Cthulhu also that cool

Bush nods, moving to start this task.

The fifth one in the wagon (who was definitely there before), who seemed to be posing as another traveler, nodded. “Remember our purpose, Nikolas.” The cart stopped, and the patrol-man stepped up to Nikolas. “Bit late to be traveling.” The voice was barely perceptible. “What do you carry? Do you have to funds to pay its tariff?” ”Just some travelers, Noble.” The man nodded. “Yeah, well, I guess we’ll see.” He walked to the back of the cart, then held his bright lantern towards the five in the back. “Wake up!” He barked.

Don’t got no discord. (Actually, I made a temp account to satisfy some cybersecurity challenge or another, but I don’t use or even have it downloaded.)

Nikolas nods, then turns away, coaxing the dogs forwards. @CoderDrag0n8 @Kansas Stormcursed @Honors ghost They begin to move, passing through a desolate landscape. Before long, they’ve entered a smaller valley, which seemed to turn away from the light sources now visible behind them. At the other side of the valley, they run into patrol. As Nikolas stops the dogs, he turns back, temporarily removing his mask of cloth. “Keep it cool. We don’t want to fight them - a routine check shouldn’t reveal the coal. You’re travelers, hiring my transportation.” He replaces the cloth.

Eventually, everyone found a room and found sleep. They were woken by a loud voice and the opening of their doors. However, the door opened to an arena, instead of their hallway. They could see doors leading to the rooms of the others, but the arena was generally circular, with a blue-purple crystal structure in the center. ”Sorry, clients! Our generous donor has… eh… asked to skip a few steps in the tourney! Don’t worry, though! We have an event planned later that’s sure to satisfy. For now though, the donor has asked for them to face the Hasrathan!”

Bush stands and waits for orders.

Bush followed, at attention nearby.

“Good.” He shifts his gaze to the last member of the crew.

Nikolas looks at him, muffled voice coming through the heavy layers of clothing of his mask. “Are you ready?” @CoderDrag0n8

He nods, and exits the room. @Spark of Hope

Nikolas stepped along the path, his stride a slow and somber thing. His countenance held a weight to it that seemed befitting to that of a time-weathered ancient. The snow crunched audibly under his feet, but he paid it no heed. As he neared the clearing, the child made sure to shield his eyes against the glare of the snow, agitated by its horrid glow. Not long ago, he had asked Anne how it could ever learn to glow, receiving a warm laugh and a tight embrace. His sister had pointed upwards, towards the light of the sun, as she wrapped her other arm around him in a halfway-hug. “It could always glow, silly. I learned that, and I hope that a kid like you can.” Anne’s face grew somber, and her hand on his shoulder became as a vice. “I want you to… I want you to remember that, when I am gone. Will you do that?” Nikolas stopped in his stride, her haunted voice echoing through his mind. The cold seemed to intensify, causing him to shiver despite the lamp in one hand. In his other, he clenched onto a small red flower. He placed the flower, stiff, onto the snow, noting absently a slight resemblance to life blood. Kneeling, his eyes moistened with tears, the bitter cold stinging against his skin. His sister… his sister had betrayed him. He had remembered her words, and… and she didn’t come back. She was gone. He set the lamp against the stone slab, and closed his eyes. Nikolas wept. - - - - Ten Years Later Nikolas adjusted the strap of his goggles, bare skin stinging in the cold as they came off for a slit second. He tugged his glove tighter, anxiously repeating the unnecessary task. Finally, he unlatched the small lamp from his belt, setting it into place in the small compartment by his seat. The lamp was as much for warmth as it was for light - more so, perhaps. Looking backwards, he made eye-contact with the ones in the back of the cart, sticking a thumb upwards. Were they ready to head out? Sign-ups link: @Through The Living Glass @Spark of Hope

“Exactly.” He looked away with a slight shushing gesture.

“Yes, well if they hear any whisper, we’re both in a bad place. A worse place.”

He shrugged. “Go ahead - you’ll just be quickening what’ll happen when you try to escape. If you succeed, they’ll kill one or two of us, which would include me, since you’re talking to me. If you don’t… they’ll beat us all. Kill you.” He sighs again. “Look - my point is, escape isn’t something that’s… done. I’ve been a slave for the majority of my life, and I haven’t even heard of a single one. Attempting to, or planning to… that’s suicide.”

Bush sighed. “I’d be happy to tell them you said that,” he warned.

There is not a thing suspicious.

Bush resists weakly, voice flat. “We don’t get paychecks. We’re slaves.”

He rolls his eyes. “Our masters, you dimwit.”

He helps, forcing his hands in front of his face in a defensive posture. “Cool it,” he hissed. “They’ll hear you, and beat us.” As he did so, he grunted as his mis-healed rib shifted, gritting his teeth against the pain.

No! It’s very sad and it made him feel very sad! But not as sad as actually being beaten. Oh I forgot to mention that his nickname was a way the others would make fun of him