Crimson Sky

Speaking quietly and calmly, with the merest hint of a smile, I say to the woman in front of me

"Recovered from what, if I may so bold as to ask. I may be able speed up the process, being a doctor after all"

I draw out a dagger and run a finger along it.

"Leave. Me. Be."

He shrugs, throwing her a sympathetic look.

"All right, fine, chill out I was only trying to help" I say with a slight hint of annoyance, "You want to be careful doing that though. You could cut yourself." I add with a smirk

"Can you see anyone here you know?" I ask the woman, trying to find someone that can help her. If there is no one, I decide to keep her close while I move around the lift assessing the situation.

"Pfft."

I close my eyes and ignore my surroundings.

You hear a conversation going on in the centre of the lift.

"Octavious Ashdown!" An upper class man boisterously introduces himself, swinging his cane, and grabbing (Glen's) A griffin winged hunter wearing a trenchcoat and gas mask's hand in a vigorous, double-handed hand-shake. Octavious is an elder man, dressed in a white tailed suit, stockily built with brown eyes and greying red hair.

"And this is my ol buddy, Bartholomew Wickes!" He reaches into the crowd and grabs a man round the shoulders, pulling him over.

He looks supremely unimpressed and wrenches himself away from Octavious. His black suit, cane and monocle give away his social standing, but beside that he is an ugly man, with a thick mustache, and once-black greying, hair that hangs about his chin.

"Get your hands off me you buffoon!" He growls, stalking away. Octavious rolls his eyes.

"And this is my maid, Bessie." He pats a maid who was standing nearby on the head jovially.

"Bessie Swann, sir." She curtsies to the hunter. A man from the lower class steps forward. He is mildly attractive, with long brown hair and a slight beard.

"Robert Watson." He introduces himself, shaking his hand. "You're one of the hunters right? Nathaniel...?" He paused for a moment until his name was given. "I was down in the mines with John and Jacob here when the others broke into the vampire cavern..." He motions with his head to the two men flanking him, one quite young, the other large and brutish looking. Both move to shake Nathaniel's hand.

You hear a conversation going on in the centre of the lift.

"Octavious Ashdown!" An upper class man boisterously introduces himself, swinging his cane, and grabbing (Glen's) A griffin winged hunter weaaring a trenchcoat and gas mask your hand in a vigorous, double-handed hand-shake. Octavious is an elder man, dressed in a white tailed suit, stockily built with brown eyes and greying red hair.

"And this is my ol buddy, Bartholomew Wickes!" He reaches into the crowd and grabs a man round the shoulders, pulling him over.

He looks supremely unimpressed and wrenches himself away from Octavious. His black suit, cane and monocle give away his social standing, but beside that he is an ugly man, with a thick mustache, and once-black greying, hair that hangs about his chin.

"Get your hands off me you buffoon!" He growls, stalking away. Octavious rolls his eyes.

"And this is my maid, Bessie." He pats a maid who was standing nearby on the head jovially.

"Bessie Swann, sir." She curtsies to the hunter. A man from the lower class steps forward. He is mildly attractive, with long brown hair and a slight beard.

"Robert Watson." He introduces himself, shaking his hand. "You're one of the hunters right? Nathaniel...?" He paused for a moment until his name was given. "I was down in the mines with John and Jacob here when the others broke into the vampire cavern..." He motions with his head to the two men flanking him, one quite young, the other large and brutish looking. Both move to shake Nathaniel's hand.

Al coughs and looks around.

"You have a good point... It'd help to know everyone's names. As far as I know, this is-"

"Octavious Ashdown!" The upper class man interrupts him, swinging his cane, and grabbing your hand in a vigorous, double-handed hand-shake. "And this is my ol buddy, Bartholomew Wickes!" He reaches into the crowd and grabs a man round the shoulders, pulling him over.

He looks supremely unimpressed and wrenches himself away from Octavious. His black suit, cane and monocle give away his social standing, but beside that he is an ugly man, with a thick mustache, and once-black greying, hair that hangs about his chin.

"Get your hands off me you buffoon!" He growls, stalking away. Octavious rolls his eyes.

"And this is my maid, Bessie." He pats the maid on the head jovially.

"Bessie Swann, sir." She curtsies. A man from the lower class steps forward. He is mildly attractive, with long brown hair and a slight beard.

"Robert Watson." He introduces himself, shaking your hand. "You're one of the hunters right? Nathaniel...?" He pauses for a moment until you give your name. "I was down in the mines with John and Jacob here when the others broke into the vampire cavern..." He motions with his head to the two men flanking him, one quite young, the other large and brutish looking. Both move to shake your hand.

Behind you, you hear Octavious Ashdown, a loud and boisterous, but generally pleasant man who was friends with your father (read: everyone). When you saw him earlier, he looked the same as ever, in his trademark white suit, stockily built with brown eyes and greying red hair. You also hear the sneering voice of Bartholomew Wickes, another of your fathers friends, but for an entirely different reason. An unpleasant man, his looks reflect his disposition, generally decked out in a black suit, cane and monocle give away his social standing, with a thick mustache, and once-black greying, hair that hangs about his chin.

Several others whose voices you don't recognise introduce themselves.

I shake hands with the other men and give a polite nod to his maid before I answer Octavious. "Good to meet you all... and yes, I am Nathaniel Serriani, one of the hunters from Evren." I'm mildly surprised at his lack of acknowledging the sobbing woman, before remembering his social status. "As much as I'd love to stay here and talk I need to find out exactly what is going on first. Excuse me."

I turn away from the upper class men and begin to walk towards the women that carried the potions here.

Octavious turns to face you.

"Darius Crowley! My good friend! So uh, glad you survived as well!" He bounces over and shakes your hand warmly, slapping one of your cheeks."

Octavious turns to face the grey-skinned man in a black suit.

"Darius Crowley! My good friend! So uh, glad you survived as well!" He bounces over and shakes jis hand warmly, slapping one of his cheeks."

You realise that the maid, Bessie, was one of the potions carriers, but you also see the beggar girl, who is sitting, looking slightly shellshocked, by a pile of the glass bottles of potions.

You hear Octavious reply.

"Darius Crowley! My good friend! So uh, glad you survived as well!"

I crouch down in front of the girl. "Are you alright?" I instinctively glance over to see how the potions are lasting but turn back for her response.

At a glance the potion bottles appear to be fine, there are a large amount, that will have to be counted, but there appear to be at least three of each type that you can think to look for.

The girl appears to be both in awe that you deigned to speak to her, and also somewhat intimidated by your gas mask. She swallows heavily and looks around quickly, as if expecting to see someone else that you may be addressing, before looking back to you and nodding quickly, seemingly struck mute.

"You can speak to me, you know? You did well earlier." I speak in a more friendly tone of voice, and wonder again why the average person seems to respect, but fear hunters; our lives are dedicated to their protection.

She is playing with her hands in her lap, her eyes fixed on the floor as she nods, seemingly more out of habit than anything else.

It occurs to you that your awesomely intimidating gas mask may have something to do with her reaction, however from the state of her clothes (absolute rags) you guess that she is (or was) probably a beggar, hinting as to why she is so uncomfortable speaking to someone in such a higher class. You have seen the way some of the upper class treat those below them.

The lift grinds to a halt and you find yourself once again facing the giant, now open, bulkhead door. The sandstorm has died down slightly, but not stopped completely.

The lift grinds to a halt, and you arrive in a cave, just large enough to house the lift itself. Before you, a giant bulkhead door lies open, revealing to you your first ever view of the surface. You've heard stories, tales of ex-hunters, but...

The air tastes odd, strangely salty. Outside you see sand, real sand, forming endless dunes that stretch for as far as you can see, broken only by the pools of black ichor and the occasional fossilized tree.

Looking up at the sky, The Sky! The REAL sky! You see the thick, heavy crimson cloud bank that has obscured the heavens ever since the Demon war and the Destruction. Bolts of green lightning light the horizon, made more obvious as they ignite the sand around them, creating an arcing matrix of green energy wherever they strike.

The mechanical moon dips and bobs out of the bottom of the cloudbank as it meanders across the sky, jostled by the occasional bolt of lightning as it goes.

It is as you've heard of it and more, but even then... the sense of wonder you thought you'd feel is missing. Even for the surface world, something most everyone dreamed of seeing it is... strangely dead.

I offer a hand out to the girl to help her up. "I would have thought that the mask would give away who I am... Though I'll admit that apart from that I don't match my usual appearance. I'm Nathaniel Serriani, and I'd like to know the name of the woman I'm helping to her feet." As soon as I mentioned my armour images of Ezra Zedock creep into my mind; I had been so distracted by the catastrophic events and helping the citizens before that I didn't think to check on the man who raised me. As soon as I'm sure this girl is fine I have to try to find his whereabouts.

I turn to the lady now sitting on the floor, I think I'll call her "Knifey", until I know her real name, and perform the most extravagant bow known to man, resulting in an outstretched hand towards her.

While doing so I say, loud enough to make certain I am heard "M'lady, wouldst thou allow one to accompany your divine self into the lands atop Enra?"

I place my palm across my forehead for a few brief seconds, before standing up straight, my expression changing from downcast to near exhilarated in a matter of a second.

"Why that would be most grand!"

I reach out for the hand, grabbing it roughly, as if to give a "manly" handshake.

"Mighty fine hands you have there, I must say!"

Post thoughts only to me, no one here is telepathic

The girl looks between you and the woman, covering her mouth with one hand. She raises a hand slightly as the sparks fly between you.

"Um.. uh." She stammers hesitantly.

She stares at your hand for several seconds before taking it - seemingly reluctantly. As she gets to her feet (not letting you pull her up at all despite the fact that she has taken your hand) she seems to regain her voice.

"Hope." She tells you, her voice quiet, but hard. She is both very small and very thin - if her beggar clothes are anything to go by, this is probably from a life of malnourishment. She is pretty, in an odd sort of way, almost as if she has yet to grow into it, with angular features, high cheek bones and a straight nose. Her eyes are blue and her unkempt, dirty hair reaches down to her lower back.

You have yet to spot Ezra.

Emmarabella looks between you and the man, covering her mouth with one hand. She raises a hand slightly as the sparks fly between you.

"Um.. uh." She stammers hesitantly.

"Pleasure to meet you. But I have important matters to attend to," I say quickly despite knowing that my departure will probably make her feel relaxed and relieved.

I began scanning the faces in the crowd, searching for one in particular. I shout over the sound of the people in the lift: "EZRA?" I take to the air, hovering just above the crowd and continue searching through the packed lift.

Deftly changing my grip on Knifey's hand, I kiss it softly "The pleasures all mine I can assure you" I smile, with a slight hint of a glint in my eye.

Motioning to the girl, I ask "Is she with you?"

"Indeed she is! This one is my good friend Emmarabella. Would you care to tell me your name?"

I drop my hand, tucking my knives through the silken belts around my waist.

"Such a lovely young girl." I respond with a polite smile.

"I would the be humble Crowley," Pausing slightly for dramatic effect, I continue "Darius Crowley."

My tone lightening somewhat I ask Knifey "And to what name should I put your divine visage?"

"Many call me divine, however you may call me Chastity."

I place my hands on my hips.

"This is a rather intriguing place, is it not?"

You do not see him.