The Hunt (North, Beast #2)

[Guinivere Marcel]

The Hunt

Even in the heat of summer, snow crunches underfoot. The trees are no longer weighed down by its weight, but the mountains are weighed down by the weight of something much larger. The sun is up nearly all day in the North Court, but this light could reveal your presence as quickly as it reveals the dragon being sought. Rocks crunch underfoot and the streams are glassy and clear. Such tranquility cannot last long. 

This is the scene of the hunt, as the fae wait for near-forgotten monsters to emerge from their hibernation. Something has stirred them awake, and now they're prey for those who need precious dragon scales to protect themselves from iron.

The hunt will proceed as follows.


Posting deals damage. Each post deals a base damage of 5 to the current beast. This damage can be increased by characters with a combat-related learned skill; otherwise, bonuses are based on the school that the character is or was part of.


+1 damage: school of theory
+2 damage: school of tailoring/craftmanship/foraging
+3 damage: school of herbalism
+4 damage: school of magic
+5 damage: school of war


Each creature has a health of 100, with a new creature arising to be hunted each week. This is with the exception of the last week, which will have two.

Happy hunting!

The dragon you are hunting is in the North Court, a terrifying blue creature that leaps from mountain to mountain. It shakes off pieces of rocks wherever it goes and seems to breathe ice as well as fire. To kill it, you must survive the cold first. 

Gemini Enigma  Jin-Hwa Mei Adem Agni Yadav Bran Viola Calanthe Willowlace Marcellus Yong @cheshire Sutton Elizabeth Bane

[Julius Auyn]

the hunt

[attr="class","box1a"] Some might say that an honorary king had better things to do than to chase mythical beasts through the forest, but far be it from Julius to sit out from history while his girl kept the blackthorn throne warm. Excitement was youth, to him, a transport like a faerie ring to better times, the same border he crossed when he looked into Guin's bottomless eclipse eyes. His lungs felt fuller for that moment.  He was more of a trapper than a tracker, so he would be setting up lures to the beast's eventual demise once the tracking fae found that they were near its location. Perhaps he'd be the one to kill it, to claim the trophy once it had naively followed the trail he laid. He could go back to Guin and show her hands bearing a monster's blood as proof that they could keep her safe. Perhaps those same hands could lift the crown from her for a moment and let his girl rest. It must have tired her, his wide-eyed girl; were her hands strong enough to hold all of the Faewild steady? He hoped she knew that he could take them in his own when she faltered.  But this day's work was much more concrete. He would prove his worth to the land in the defense of this people. There were traps to lay.  mentioned: Guinivere Marcel [newclass=.box1a]margin:0px auto; width:300px; height:425px; background: transparent; overflow:auto; padding:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1a::-webkit-scrollbar]width:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1a::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #804a00;[/newclass]

Music Word count: 228 Notes: Total points- 10 (school of war)

credit to Laura of Adox + SeaJem

[Gemini Enigma]

the hunt

[attr="class","box1"] Had he not been a son of the blackthorn throne—as much as it ever claimed him—Gemini imagined that he might have been born in the north, raised staid and unbreaking among the jagged peaks and spires of ice. His sight was clearer in the cold, silver eyes more falconesque than the owlish stare he'd been dubbed with as a child, and the skewed slash of his mouth took in more determined breaths than the lowland could afford him. Despite the slow movement of machinations to realize his ambitions, summer had dulled the elation that welled in Gemini's throat when he realized his circumstances; the thickness in the air and the sweltering that pearled on his skin threatened to cloud his thoughts in every moment spent outdoors. He'd declined to accompany Guinivere to the South Court for that very reason.  It was as if the sun blinded his thoughts as it would his eyes to look straight at it. Perhaps that was another enemy he would meet someday. If the old mortal myths were true, legendary figures were memorialized in the stars; he was Castor and Pollux already, but when would he be one with his own name? Perhaps, when that day came, he could watch the sun falter under the strength of his blaze, the army of starlight that he became.  It seemed fated, to the extent that Gemini believed in fate. It was a malleable concept, to be certain, and yet the true name secreted in his mind called him child of the stars. Perhaps he had been born to a throne greater than any that Alaric, Ambrose, or the people of Faerie could hope to keep him from.  He was swathed in a feathered cloak now, his throat ringed with a collar of raven feathers that caught the sunlight in ripples of blue, cheeks flushed high with what was only a strong wind but could have been passion given the hard gleam in his expression. When the gusts uplifted, he found himself holding his breath, as if he might find his bones hollowed and himself borne aloft.  But no—the dragon was the only winged beast among these peaks, where the snow never quite melted and currently served to muffle his steps. He kept a hand near his rapier, despite expecting that it would take more than a spear through the chest to finish so mighty a creature. Monsters never knew they were meant to die. Few were born knowing what they were. Few were born monsters at all.  heavily implied but indirect mention: Jin-Hwa Mei [newclass=.box1]margin:0px auto; width:300px; height:425px; background: transparent; overflow:auto; padding:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar]width:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #091c3d;[/newclass]

Music Word count: 423 Notes: Total damage- 6 (school of theory)

credit to Laura of Adox

[Kallias Greyson]

Yet again, the fae had set their eyes on another beast. Another dragon. It didn't pain him any less, knowing the creature had to die. Knowing there was, yet again, so little he could do, save for attempting to provide it a less painful death. He doubted few others shared the sentiment. Call him soft. Call him weak. Call him foolish. It did not bother him. He would rather care far too much, than not enough. Dismissing the lives of creatures and fae alike was dangerous. Caring too much may have been a weakness in the eyes of others, but it was a weakness he would willingly bear. He would not let himself lose his soul. He would not let himself grow familiar with death.

+5

[Jin-Hwa Mei]

Gemini Enigma
Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov

Jin-Hwa stood, her feet firmly planned on a stone, peering over the ridge, a gold cloak flowing around her shoulders. She was dressed in the style of the Undersea warriors, a gold-scaled breastplate with disconnected arm guards and loose black pants. In olden days, the pants were hewn from dragon hide and silk. Now she didn't know what they were made of. Two gold wings laid across her back, crossed like the swords she had carried into the High Court. Those were in the style of the Undersea too. They were a statement of comradery, the image of the backing of all the Undersea soldiers, their allegiance to one another. It was a message, too. They had no honor in the Undersea, not in the mortal notion of honor. They were prepared to be stabbed in the back. They were ready for betrayal. She was a fool for expecting the land fae to be different.

She had forgone her headpiece, her hair braided back in the memory of her foremothers. She needed nothing to protect her eyes from the blinding sunlight glancing off the snow. She had grown used to the sunlight by now.

She wore no cloak, not like the half-mortal half-prince standing to her side. She might have been cold but the wind resided in her bones. She could not feel it, not now. The fate of monsters was always to be hunted. She would relish, for once, being the huntress. 

+5 damage, school of war; Total of 10
Weapon + Outfit Aesthetics

[Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov]

    Nikolai had heard of the death of the West Court’s beast. He had also heard about its presence, but couldn’t be bothered to join the hunt for it. Now that there was a beast in the North Court, he had been conflicted about taking it down. Something odd was happening in Faerie. The North Court hadn’t seen a beast like this in ages. It was odd to be back in the cold of the North after not having visited for so long. He used to visit all the time with his mother. The last time was years ago. Now, his and Velikaia’s relationship was different, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel more estranged than usual from his mother. He’d also be lying if he said he hadn’t come up to join this Hunt to garner some attention from his mother. Alas, he was a faerie, and could not tell a lie.

    The broadsword strapped to his hip thudded dully against his knee as he marched through the snowy trail. There was a blast of air, and he could see that they were getting close to finding the beast. Mounds of ice jutted up over vast banks of snow. The chill in the air seemed to have nothing to do with the temperature. Nikolai drew his sword, golden and gilded, much too beautiful for the harsh environment surrounding it. It contrasted strongly against the dark, dull furs that he wore, simple while still being fit for royalty. He pushed on through the deep drifts of snow, making his way to the front of the group.

TAGS: N/a
SWORD

★fai

+4 School of magic.
Total: 9

[Annalise Lorelai Luce]

Dorian Northbow
Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov

Annalise had not been called to do this. She volunteered. So long as the beast did not move near the East Court, she wanted to be the one to hunt it down. And even if it did, perhaps she had a reason to care what happened there now. Nikolai deserved to survive long enough to be better. The East Court was Dorian's home, too. He kept saying he wanted to show it to her. She was not so sure how she felt about that.



This party was larger than she wanted it to be, but she was not heading it up. She was not the only one here. Should she be surprised that so many individuals of such significance were here? She half-expected the High Queen herself to show up, but that would have been quite the risk. The land didn't need more turmoil. As a faerie girl raised in a mortal home, Annalise did not resent the queen for her blood. It could have been her just as easily. She only resented her for the upset in order of things. This danger would stay far away from Dorian's home.



Only if they killed it here first.

+5 damage, school of war; Total of 10
Weapon + Outfit Aesthetics

[Nyra Charlotte Enigma]

Bran Viola

Nyra pulled back on her bow, testing the grip. She was following the footsteps of the woman behind her, a dark-haired girl with a glittering sword. She recognized her from somewhere. Someone had come into her forge and asked for two totally identical swords, equal in every way. It had been an interesting challenge, for sure, but not particularly difficult. The detailing on the blades was entertaining.

As much as she loved crafting weapons, she did not care for wielding them. Of all the weapons she was unsuited to, she was unsuited to this bow the least. It had sharp arrows, enchanted to make anything they hit easier to track. She had made them for her sister for years. Juno was behind her now, her dark hair in a ponytail, her gaze focused.

Nyra did not care for hunting, but she was raised by a huntress. She had not brought Rhea, afraid that hunt scenes might scare her deer. She was not at all sure the automation recognized herself as a deer. Perhaps she thought she was singular, the only of her kind. Nyra understood that feeling, but had found no deer to introduce Rhea to. All the deer who ventured onto her sister's property were slain by the hounds nearly immediately.

This dragon was not so different. Only two of her sister's hounds were here, massive things that followed her silently. The was somewhere above them. Huge chunks of rocks had fallen to the ground. She heard a rumble and the flap of wings. A sound like an arrow whistling coursed through the air. The earth shook again. 

Nyra looked up. The creature was flying nearly directly above them. The hunters readied their swords. Juno drew her bow. This was the real reason Nyra had not brought Rhea. Dragon or deer or automation, they were, in the end, all beasts of prey. 

+2 damage, school of forging; Total of 7
Weapon + Outfit Aesthetics

Damage Report 57 Points of Damage have been done. 63 health points are left. 63/120

[Gemini Enigma]

the hunt

[attr="class","box1"]A sudden updraft, swept by the ice-pearl wings of the beast, flung Gemini's cloak out in a flurry of snow that briefly obscured the sky. His chest burned with the rush of frigid air. What a strange hunting party they made—instructors and inventors, soldiers and scientists, not in the way that mortals knew it but in its roots—scientia, knowledge, learning. These were creatures born of old magic, more ancient than the heritage Gemini had long been denied. They were a phenomenon nearly forgotten, a source of power that no living fae understood. Gemini felt a kinship as he watched the dragon circle, but still he knew that it needed to be slain.  It mattered less if he laid down the killing blow, except perhaps to spite Princess Mei, but he wanted to be the first to its corpse. He wanted to run his hands with their heavy mortal bones over its scales, over armor he would not need; strange that he, with his mixed blood, could touch the pure substance that would burn his fellow hunters. He wanted to sever the bones from its flesh and see if they were hollow, search for some reason that the mind of Faerie's magic had forgotten to give him wings.  But maybe he already knew. What had he ever been given? Everything he had, he'd drawn up schematics, cousin of schemes, and cobbled together, and if he fell the fault was his own. He wanted to take the pieces of the broken beast and build something new. He did not need to do the destroying. He only needed the pieces to make an ending his creation.  Death was the ultimate creator of potential. Potential, the liminal space between destruction and creation, the ultimate site of possibility, the state in which he'd lived. He had to tip to one side or the other to be free. He had to break or to build, and if in building he broke himself, at least the choice would have been made.  Strange that Princess Mei had chosen to stand at his shoulder. She was regal in gold, garbed in the ancient armor of her people as if somehow it would make anyone forget the other heirs standing in her way. Perhaps she wished to be a general if she could never be a queen. But she didn't strike him as the kind to settle.  Her former lover stood nearby, having passed her already, too weak for the flame of her gaze if Gemini had to guess. He recalled the gurgle of water into lungs, the break in the princess's armor. The heat of that West Court girl's breath on his skin, brief and still more briefly forgotten. He suspected there were other memories from that night that had eroded those involved, their silt still remaining.  There was a great roar of wings and Gemini cast his silver gaze upwards as the dragon lurched, its side seemingly struck. The archers were the only ones with a chance as of yet, he saw; fortunate for the rest of them that they were joined by a strategist.  "Aim for the wings," he told those nearest him, the surety of command solidifying his voice. Something like ecstasy trembled in his chest, a trapped bird blinded by the first sight of sunlight. Finally. A prince in his own right with a chance to put his mind to use. "The skin is thinner there and it will cripple the beast. The rest of us who are earthbound can attack its flanks once it falls."  Jin-Hwa Mei, mentioned: Quinn Allegra Stone [newclass=.box1]margin:0px auto; width:300px; height:425px; background: transparent; overflow:auto; padding:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar]width:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #091c3d;[/newclass]

Music Word count: 595 Notes: +6

credit to Laura of Adox

[Julius Auyn]

the hunt

[attr="class","box1a"]Good: They'd managed to track down the beast. Not good: Guin's pet prince was taking it upon himself to give orders. The kid had an ego on him and a cold look in his face that Julius instinctively mistrusted, and he generally trusted his instincts. Besides, a political alliance was no reason for the boy to spend so much time scheming with Julius's girl.  Don't get too comfortable in that power, little prince. The throne is only at your beck and call until Guin becomes my wife.  Someone so young, even fae, had no reason to be crafty and cutting that way. Didn't Gemini have revels to throw and lovers to lay with till high noon? In fact, he observed, the snowy slope was dotted with armored youths, hungry perhaps for their future. Julius looked on them with deep skepticism. They needed no advance on missing their present, and yet.  By the blackthorn throne, he sounded ancient. Perhaps he'd been away from Guin for too long. He circled away from the armed hunting party to place himself out of the beast's line of sight, preparing to essentially disregard what sounded like an overly specific and therefore doomed plan. Luring the dragon downwards would be easier than trying to take out its flight. Was Guin so eager to entrust her strategy with a prince who'd barely seen true combat? Perhaps Guin thought him as clever as he did himself. Perhaps Julius would have to teach her the same way he taught Elora about that betrothed of hers. His only reservation was that he couldn't lose her too. It wasn't worth risking his greatest and only joy.  Guinivere Marcel [newclass=.box1a]margin:0px auto; width:300px; height:425px; background: transparent; overflow:auto; padding:8px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1a::-webkit-scrollbar]width:5px;[/newclass] [newclass=.box1a::-webkit-scrollbar-thumb]background: #804a00;[/newclass]

Music Word count: 275 Notes: -10 pts (school of war)

credit to Laura of Adox + SeaJem

[Vĩnh Lý]

The air in this place was refreshingly cool, if thinner than the water he preferred. It reminded him of his previous home in the arctic. Of his mother, who loved him as a son even though she did not quite know him. He did not have the capacity to miss her, he had not known her long enough, but he did wonder if this misplaced nostalgia was similar to that sensation. He did not particularly miss the company of the princess either, though he remained cognizant of the tangled lines she drew with her peers on the snowy hill across him. She’d sent him away, employing the service of some rather unbecoming words in doing so. Perhaps it was not the best decision, but it was hers to make, and his to follow. The individuality in cold bloodlust was a tradition among the sea folk, and this decision would allow her to serve the tradition well. Vĩnh would have to resort to more obvious means to affect something with a natural temperature far below that of even his, and he had no interest in divesting the hunters of the quarry they deserved far more than he.



Vĩnh had not come prepared for battle in any case, wearing the same suit as he had used for the previous hunt, though of a lighter shade to blend his form with the snow. Vĩnh remained at his own personal temperature regardless of the environment, and changeable aesthetics were not the concern of a servant unless his masters felt it necessary to present him in a specific way.



He did however, see a much darker figure, laying invisible trails in the snow. Perhaps he was not the only servant sent to attend to less glamorous matters than slaughter. 



Ah. Lures? For the creature?



“Pardon me, Sir, forgive me for intruding, but I’ve found myself quite far from the role I normally play.”



Vĩnhs expression softened into an apologetic smile as he walked over to the man.

“If you would like, id be happy to help you with what you’re doing. I've laid traps for small game before.”


mentioned-Jin-Hwa Mei ,
spoken to- Julius Auyn ,
+7 points of damage

[Bran Viola]

What an odd creature. He’d seen the skeleton of one, mounted delicately in the Villa’s study. It was an ancient piece, any of the useful artifacts derived from the things skin lost to time. It had been brans understanding, at least until the last twenty minutes, that dragons had not existed in the faewild for quite some time. He’d been returning from an unfortunate outing in the north court and had happened to see the thing. Surprised at its appearance, he’d followed it for the last fifteen minutes considering whether or not he should kill it, which was really more of a consideration of what condition he could bring it back in, if he could even move the thing once he’d done so. There was no way to contact the family on such short notice after all. He’d been considering if he could bury it in the snow to preserve it, and potentially circle back for it, when it had been found by fae waving shiny sticks at it, and bran had ducked into a memorial on the hillside to watch.



Perhaps it was a statuary made by a still living artist, fae didn’t really prepare for death in the same way mortals did, but the group of statues and buildings, bound under an immense veil of snow and flowerless vine gave a him sense of antiquity. Apparently this was the second beast of its kind in recent time, and the faeries on the hill across him were just as confused about this as he was. And out in force as well. As he got a better vantage point he recognized a few as younger fae nobility, most with a place at their academy. Gemini Marvel Enigma, the poisoners prince. The seal he danced about with, a princess crawled up from the depths of the undersea during the blue moon revel. Some others he didn’t recognize, some responding to family names cast their way. The little ghost from the forge? She hadn’t struck him as someone who would happily leave behind her idle hobbies to chase monsters through the wind. Though he was at first somewhat impressed by the relative practicality of her attire, he was quickly disappointed by her weapon, which looked as though it had been made out of a peacock that had been stoned to death with a large number of pearls. Instead of her pet, she was flanked by an older looking fairy. 



Bran took a drag from the cigarette he’d lit in the interim as a voice of authority sailed out over the cutting breeze. Cute. He wasn’t wrong. The skin did look thinner there. If they weren’t coordinated about it though, the dragon might fall on them. Bran had found the creature because of the few trails it left when it touched down, which seemed to be mostly composed of what Bran could only guess from minuscule fragments, had once been large rocks. Bran exhaled and closed his eyes as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Maybe he’d need to help. The balance that hung around these fae like an iron curtain was a delicate thing. Or maybe he should just leave. It would certainly make his life less complicated if some of them died.



Either way, he didn’t particularly feel like abandoning the unique sight he’d found, so, refusing a definite decision, Bran sat still, and watched the great wyrm circle about the empty grey sky.

mentioned-Gemini Enigma ,Nyra Charlotte Enigma ,Jin-Hwa Mei ,
+5 damage

[Nikolai Hugh-Sokolov]

    They were making progress towards the beast. Nikolai heard someone shout down the line, but he was more focused on the lone figure who was diverging from the group. That was a stupid thing to do. The only thing he would accomplish was a slow and lonely death. But hey, maybe his screams would alert the rest of the group to the location of the dragon. He turned his attention back to the hunt. Analise was here, and he’d done nothing to acknowledge that he knew she was there. She looked so much stronger than he did, resplendent, yet practically dressed in her dark armor. She was a true picture of combat. She looked like she knew what she was doing. Nikolai, on the other hand, was nothing but a gilded statue holding a gilded sword. Somehow he’d come off his pedestal, somehow he found himself here, on a hunt in his mother’s home. He did not belong here.

TAGS: N/a
SWORD

★fai

+4 School of magic.
Total: 9

Damage Report 37 Points of Damage have been done. 26 health points are left. 26/120