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He was doing it again.

"Uncle!" Molana snapped, "Stop crying! Your weeping is not going to bring Aunt Zela back to life!"

She threw the metal fragment into the water violently with her protected tongs. Steam began to rise from the barrel in frenzied clouds. Molana growled under her breath as her uncle attempted to silence his sobbing. She used her tongs to bring the metal out from the water filled barrel and placed the fragment on the workbench.

Uncle Delur hiccuped suddenly, tears still trickling down his cheeks as he attempted to continue working. Molana dropped her tongs onto the bench with a sigh, she turned to face her uncle and whisped quietly, "Fine. I'll go to find Fallenmore. But you'd better be alive when I get back."

Molana made her way outside, ignoring her uncle's cry of joy, she grabbed a bunch of daggers from a container on the way out, as well as a padded leather coat. Once she was outside, the daggers sheathed at her belt and the protective coat buttoned on tightly, she began to make her way to the town's stables.

"Molana! Wait!"

She turned around with a sigh, her uncle ran up the path, a backpack in hand. When he reached her he pulled her into a tight hug, "Take care of yourself." Then he handed her the backpack and she turned around to make her way to the stables. I can't believe I actually agreed to this...

((Ewwwww! Icky Icky Icky! That was horrible! I'm soooo very very rusty! I really must apologise for that awful post.... its been too long since I've RPed...))

Lily woke up, mumbling for water. Marie was quick to oblige. Her heart screamed and wrenched when she saw her struggling, dying sister lick the edge of the goblet.

"Would you like any more?" asked Marie softly but Lily was back to sleeping, even lighter so. Marie was alone in the silence with her thoughts, thinking hesitantly about Fallemore. If such a place existed, could her sister survive the journey? If such a place existed...

Marie allowed herself for one moment, to imagine it did. The beautiful landscape and inspiring scenery, her sister healthy, their lives happy-- even Mother and Father back with them, somehow alive.

Maybe, just maybe, thought Marie; looking back at her sister, maybe it was worth a try.

Eithne grimaced, but finally settled onto the rain-soaked cobbles of the alleyway, huddling against the stone wall. She clutch the runty apple tightly against her chest, warding off hungry eyes with sharp glares.

One girl, her body riddled with the mark of the plague, reached out a frail hand, coughing feebly so that her words were lost.

Eithne shook her head violently, clutching the stolen food still tighter. She wished she had another place to sleep, but the dead and dying cluttered every alleyway, driven from the main streets.

She turned away from the others, quickly wolfing down the food. That done, she settled down, shivering, to sleep.

Her dreams were haunted by the face of her father, even though she could barely recall his features. His overwhelming presence was there, gripping her mind. She was filled with hatred for the man who had abandoned them in their time of greatest need.

As she slept he mocked her, recalling in vivd detail the childrens story of Fallemore. A land of great magic...where no disease can dwell, he recited grandly. Then the tone of his voice changed, becoming malicious, But, you'd never be able to seek so grand a place. Pitiful fool, can't even manage more than a measly bit of fruit for a day's meal. Just look at you, huddled among the diseased. You could never find Fallemore.
He scoffed, turning away.

"NOO!" she shouted, sitting bolt upright. It was still light out, but nobody seemed to notice her outburst. The dream, though, was enough to convince her. She would seek out the fabled land of Fallemore, and escape the plague. That would show her father.

Rising, Eithne raced out of the alleyway. She weaved her way expertly through the stalls of goods and wares that lined the main streets until she came to a tiny weapons shop.

"Damal," she greeted the once-portly shopkeeper, whose features were now drawn and gaunt, "I need...it."

"You're going?" he asked, incredulous.

"I'm going to find Fallemore. I'll come back for you...and for the little ones. I promise."

He shook his head. "You're a mad one, lass. But my little girls and I thank you." He turned away, making a great show of rummaging around for someone. In reality he was withdrawing Eithne's most prized posession, which he had kept safe and hidden for her for many years.

He rose, bearing the finest weapon in the area tenderly in his hands. The handle of the glaive was fashioned of gleaming mahogany wood, an intricate knot pattern carved into the length of its handle. The blade shone silver, its edge razor sharp. In perfect condition, too, was the long spike on the opposite end. Damal had done an excellent job of keeping it.

"Many gratitudes," she murmurred, taking the weapon. With that, she set off on foot, destined for who-knows-where.

{ I'm rusty too... haven't RPed since november. Anyways, I lied... I'll mention Fallemore next post, I promise! }

Janaff leaned against the wall of his own home, staring out at the setting sun. The last few moments replayed themselves in his mind.

---

The two boys had reached Matthew's home. Matthew solemnly entered, his face still expressionless. Yet when Janaff attempted to join his friend inside the house, Matthew pushed him away.

Matthew lifted his head and met Janaff's eyes determinedly. "Don't come in. I don't want you to catch it, too."

"But..." Janaff stuttered, "Matthew..." He bit his lip. "What about yourself?"

Matthew shrugged, grey eyes now glassy.

"You're... one of my best friends Matt. I don't want you to catch it either."

"I know," Matthew said, voice flat. "But I can't leave my mother at a time like this. It may well be the last time I ever see her." Both boys spoke in whispers, their voices quiet--they knew very well that what Matthew was doing was illegal. Those with the Plague were required to be taken to the centre of the town at the end of each wait, and burnt, so that the living would not catch the disease. Matthew took a breath and continued, "I'm not going to."

Janaff nodded, understanding. It was as if the two boys could communicate to each other with more than just words. Matthew wasn't going to flush out his mother. "Don't," he replied. He paused for a second, and then added, "I don't understand why our town has to do this... burning people... it's too cruel." He stopped, again. "Matthew... you're brave," he said, honestly.

Matthew nodded. "Jan... you're my best friend... I'll never forget you."

"Don't speak like that. We'll still see each other," Janaff whispered. The two boys embraced. Matthew's face was wet with tears.

---

Stupid Peter, Janaff thought presently. He has to leave when Matthew needs him the most. He sighed.

"Janaff!" his aunt called from the upper window. "Since you're home already, prepare some dinner for us! I have to finish counting the money I earned from the shop today. Fortunately, there were quite a few customers."

"All right," Janaff called back in reply. He blinked. His voice sounded defeated, almost lifeless. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and obediently started to cook.

Molana rode slowly through the field, the black mare was quiet and she was thankful for that. It seems I've found myself a kindred spirit, she thought with a brief chuckle. She had been travelling all afternoon at a gentle pace through the fields to the east of Chaelin, it's not like Fallenmore is going anywhere...

Half an hour later and the fields were starting to grow dark. She slowed the mare to a stop and dismounted swiftly before leading it towards a small stream she had heard nearby. A lone tree near the stream provided her with some firewood and, using her daggers, she managed to start a small fire to keep herself and the mare warm during the night.

Just before Molana drifted off to sleep she thought to herself, I hope I really can find Fallenmore.

((Hmph... that was horrid too. ))

Marie was desperate as Lily grew steadily worse. Something had to be done and she had to leave...away from the dying and ash-filled town, filled with gaunt faces of smiles she used to know.

The next morning, in an early dawn, she scooped up her sister and packed their satchels, loading all onto her old horse; also thinner than usual. She knew if she was going to try for Fallemore she would have to start somewhere. The only place Marie could think of was Karieyn, the Centre Capital City.

She started off at a slow pace but Lily was fast growing more and more sallid as the morning progressed. The pace became a gallop, the gallop into a run. Soon Marie was charging toward where she knew Karieyn was, wondering what she had done to leave everything...except of course, her sister.

[Still trying to get scanner working; I'm creating a map to simplify all this muddled nonsense of the town locations and etc.
Please, feel free to meet up with everyone in Karieyn- as it is the center of the seven cities, where we can stop with introductory-type posts and begin Finding Fallemore!]

{ post, people xP. And leave me alone for this post. I'm tired... uh... so not in character... I was going to write more but I have no time. }

Three slow knocks rang throughout house as Janaff stirred a pot filled with hot soup. He carefully laid down the stirring tool and headed towards the door. Who would come at his time? he thought. Perhaps Matthew... what if something had happened? His footsteps quickened.

But it was his aunt who arrrived first. She gazed out the window and then back at Janaff, and spoke the words, "Your father."

Janaff's father Hinle stumbled in as his aunt opened the door. His eyes were red and tired, and he looked as though he didn't have much energy left. He staggered into the kitchen and sat down, laying his head on a wooden chair and closing his eyes. Janaff approached silently, not caring to look at his father. He turned swiftly and stood again by the soup, stirring again and again.

Hinle's eyes flew open. "Who are you? Are you... my son?"

Janaff looked at him expressionlessly, stupefied. "You can't recognize me?" he exclaimed.

"Don't blame me, Janaff. You look so different. There are... there are things in this world which you don't know. Maybe you won't ever know." Hinle started laughing uncontrollably.

Janaff's amber eyes dimmed slightly. "He's gone mad," he declared to his aunt, who had just appeared by his side. She shook her head, advising Janaff not to provoke him, but Janaff ignored her. "You've finally returned, haven't you? When was the last time you've come? Two years before? How can you leave your son and daughter just like that, everytime?"

"But you don't understand. What I'm doing is for the best of both of you. I am trying to get mother back -- "

"She's dead!" Janaff cried. "How can you not accept this fact?"

"Do not talk of such a lie to me!" Hinle screeched. "I have found it. It. There is a way that we can bring mother back to life, and I have found it." He laughed again. "A shaman told me about it. There is a magical place, untouched by ruin, where the word 'disease' does not even exist. Its name is Fallemore, the Land of falls. If I find it, I can bring mother back again, I just know it."

Hinle stood up. "I need to go now. I need to find Fallemore."

"Go," Janaff breathed, heart pounding from anger at his father's impossible tale. "I care not what you do. In fact, I hope I never see you again. I..." Janaff hesitated, and decided not to be so direct.

"I'm going out again," he told his aunt. "The soup should be done now. You can serve it if you want to." With an angry look at his father, he turned and quickly left the house.

"Well, well, well! Look what we have 'ere!"

Molana's eyes snapped open in shock. A man stood, grinning wickedly, above her, her belt and daggers swinging around and around in his nimble finger. She tried to leap to her feet, but found that she had been tied by thick ropes to her horse. The man leered at her, "Don't try to struggle, it'll only give your fair skin bruises, and I'm sure your new master wouldn't want that."

She tried to shout out, before realising her mouth was filled with foul tasting cloth. Coughing slightly and shifting uncomfortably she heard the man chuckle before mounting a dark brown horse and riding over to her. He grasped the rope around the mare's neck and began leading the two horses slowly along the riverbank.

"You should probably get some rest pretty, it'll be a few hours till we arrive at Karieyn. And from there, to your new master. I'm sure he'll like a pretty lass like yourself for a slave!" He chuckled darkly at the harsh glare Molana gave him. "Suit yourself..."

Lily coughed, her chest pulled up and down with rattling breaths. Her face was a pale white, her cheeks flaming red. Marie was worried, so she kept on sprinting on her poor, foaming horse.
There was no time to lose. She kept on going North, North. North. North. To Karieyn...and then to Fallemore.

[Post people, I don't want to get to Karieyn until everyone is closer xP]

Ilithya sat there for a while, thinking, trying to recall everything that she had ever heard or read about Fallemore. Not much, to be honest. It was the same description in every memory: a beautious, extravagant paradise, devoid of fear and death and disease. No matter how many times anybody had heard of it, there wasn't much more detail than that.

A drowsiness swept over her. She leant backwards in the grass, coming to a lying position. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment, her head turned to the side, and then her eyes closed ...

There were voices, laughing, sounding overjoyed. An aureate sun hung in the sky, sending rays of beautiful golden light over the landscape. There was a delightful gushing sound in the distance. A tall mountain could be seen ahead, a waterfall rushing down the side. All around, there were lush green trees and bushes. To her amazement, she saw animals of all kinds prowling and leaping and stomping all around, dogs and wolves and cougars and lions. The grass, filled with lolloping rabbits, was tall and healthy and crunched under her feet. Insects flitted from plant to plant, and still the laughter rung on ...

She opened her eyes. The moon glowed softly in a blanket of dark sky, with a few stars twinkling overhead. She blinked, and sat up slowly. Her body was slightly stiff from sleeping on hard ground, and there was a heavy weight on her lower legs that had numbed them. She realised that it was Wolf, dozing. The lumped silhouette of a large figure a meter or so ahead told her that the stallion was still there.

She bit her lip and rubbed her head. The dream she'd just had must have been of Fallemore. Or at least a picture of Fallemore that her mind had conjured. She tried to remember, to encapsulate the images, but the details were already fast fading away in her mind.

She reached out a hand and brushed it across the top of Wolf's head.

"Wolf?" she whispered.

The dog stirred and opened his eyes, then slowly lifted his body and moved off her legs, giving a low growl.

"Where should we go, Wolf? Should we go to Fallemore?" Ilithya sighed rather dejectedly. And then she realised that she was considering going to a non-existant place from fairytales. She must be going crazy. Well, that wouldn't be too bad, come to think of it.

Does Fallemore exist? Could it? she wondered. Could it really be possible?

Well, what was she going to do? Try to get to Fallemore? She didn't even know where it was. Well, nobody did, and nobody would, seeing as it wasn't supposed to be real. But what if it was? Could she find it?

She shivered, suddenly noticing the chilly air. She got up and walked over to the horse, then bent down, her fingers fumbling clumsily over the latch of the basket attatched to the side of the stallion's rump. She finally undid it and pulled out a long cloak. She threw it over her shoulders, and as she did so, she glanced up at the sky again.

Would it be stupid to travel in the middle of the night? Yes, it would. But she suddenly felt restless. She had already slept, and she was not going to just sit in this place doing nothing and waiting for the sun to come up. So she woke the stallion up, firmly tugging hard at his reins until he stood. Then she bent down and swept Wolf up again. Leading the horse with one hand, she walked back through the bushes on to the path. It would be easier to see the path if she walked.

And so she continued travelling.

[Everybody seems to be in a different time xP Because FM was in her second day already, I speeded mine up to around midnight, but barely an hour has passed for some of the others ...]

[Hi Hynn,
This is a closed role play so it isn't the best to post here. If you have a question you should probably read the RP Rules and direct any further questions to an RP mod ]

((Sorry I haven't posted yet, I just couldn't think of a good ending, and it IS really long. ._. I guess the length'll make up for the lack of posts.))

Ismene frowned as two sacks of coffee beans were deposited into her arms, as well as a basket that dangled from her fingers. She set down the basket, and dropped the bags into an open trunk, almost filled to the brim with various foods."Why all this food? The farmers will certainly feed us."
"The looters," Ismene's mother, Amalia, replied tersely, and sighed. "Be a dear, Ismene, and fetch the safe box," she muttered wearily. Ismene obediantly trotted to the back of the coffee house, and opened a hidden door under the stairs, retrieving the safe box and a quilt. She lay the objects in a second trunk, and shuffled up the steps to find clean clothing for the journey."Where's Grandfather?" she called down. "Looking for that damned kitten. I bet it's in the garden hunting mice," her mother informed. Ismene stumbled down the stairs with a bundle of clothing in her arms. She dropped the clothes neatly in a third trunk, and her grandfather stepped through the door. Ismene ran over, and hugged him, then scooped the black kitten out of his arms. "I guess we're ready now," she smiled. "Let's go."
---
Ismene clambered into the carriage after her mother and grandfather, and the kitten. She picked the little black cat up and stroked the silky fur. She chattered with her grandfather a bit as the horses that drew the carriage trotted down the road, until a fit of coughing from her mother drew her attention. "Are you alright, mama?" she inquired. "Yes yes, it's just... this road, it's so dusty, I guess," Amalia managed. "It looks like there's a forest of sorts up ahead, the road'll be better there," her grandfather assured. Ismene riffled through one of the trunks, pulling out a blank book, a quill, and a bottle of ink. She deftly unscrewed the cap, dipped the quill in, and quickly wrote:

Day 1
We are on our way north, to a secluded farm to escape the plague. Mama is having strange coughing fits lately, and felt dizzy earlier on. Is it...?
Symptoms:
Dizziness?
Coughing fits?

Ismene shut the book, setting down the quill and looked at her mother, who had green tinging her pale face. The coughing fits started again, this time with blood. She stared in horror, and the carriage seemed to stop moving. The horses snorted nervously, and the driver peered in. 'Of course, the carriage has stopped,' she told herself. Her thoughts were interrupted by the driver, who was gazing curiously between her mother, and the blood on the carriage floor. He jabbed a finger, and Amalia drew her cloak more tightly around her. "You have the plague!" The next moment, her family was sitting dazed on the ground, behind three trunks, Ismene assumed they'd been thrown out. Amalia pitched over, and hit the ground with a thunk.

Ismene scrambled towards her, and with the help of her grandfather, propped her up against the tree, kneeling beside her. "Water..." Amalia mumbled weakly, reaching out towards a trunk. Ismene crawled towards it, opening its lid with care. She reached in, and found a glass wine bottle, which she had emptied and filled with water before they'd left.

Crawling back towards her mother, Ismene noted that a rash had formed below her neck. The kitten mewled, and gazed at them in confusion. Ismene sighed, and propped her mother's head up in her hand, and lifted the rim to her mouth. Her mother drank deeply, pulling away when the neck was almost drained, and her face screwed up in pain. Ismene turned away, and when she dared to turned back, her grandfather was moving her now sleeping mother away from the vomit and blood. She sighed, and grabbed the book off the ground, and added more symptoms to the list, plus what had happened.

Ismene slid the book into the trunk filled with their valuables, and removed a bit of fabric. She managed to rip a piece off, and dampened it with the water. "Does she have a fever?" she inquired of her grandfather, who touched Amalia's forehead with the back of his hand. He nodded slowly, and Ismene scooted over, dabbing her mother's face with the cloth. "We should go to Karieyn, they'll have doctors there. I'm sure they'll treat her." Her grandfather sighed. "It's the plague, Ismene. They won't treat her. The doctors probably have the fever theirselves."

"Please, it's better for her to be in a doctor's care in a city than with a young girl, and her grandfather in the forest. Grandfather, we must. We can't just let her die." Ismene glanced at him carefully, trying to read his expression. "Fine. But first, we eat." Her grandfather pulled out three apples, and tossed two to Ismene. She ate hers down to the core, and gently shook her mother awake. "Mama, please, wake up."

Amalia stirred, and murmured, "There's a magical land, far far away. Its name is Fallemore, and it is beautiful. Filled with magic, they say! And no darkness, no disease, no taints lie there. It's a untouched, virgin land, filled with forests and flowers, waterfalls and lakes." Ismene bent her head, memoirs of her mother telling stories about magical Fallemore. Tears spilled over, and ran down her face. "Please, eat, Mama." Ismene gently placed the apple near her mother's lips, and let her bite into it. She sighed, and looked up at the sky, which was quickly darkening. Amalia pushed the apple away, and pointed at her grandfather, who was putting what they absolutely needed in one trunk. "Ismene, you'll have to drag this along, I'll help your mother," Ismene nodded, and a rope landed at her feet. "Just tie it 'round the trunk and pull it along." She slipped the rope around it, and grimaced. "I guess we're ready, let's go."

Eithne gave a gaping yawn, shifting uncomfortably on the bare back of the mare. She had stolen her mount from an outlying farm. The farmer and his family, it seemed, had fallen to the plague. The horse was the finest of the animals available, and had made the journey towards Karieyn much easier. She would never make in on foot, but after riding nonstop she was making good progress.

||Will probably add more later||

((Post people! And you are right Jade, my time is moving way fast but we need everyone in Karieyn fast!))
A city with high walls and towers came into view. Marie gasped excitedly and woke Lily for just a moment, to see the grandeur.
She entered the city, propping Lily up and making her keep her eyes open, so it would appear that neither of them had the plague and could enter.
Karieyn was amazingly different than the other towns she had seen. Untouched by plague, people chattered and went on their way-- naive and happy.
Marie knew that others could be here, trying to find Fallemore; it seemed a good guess, Karieyn being a central and well-thought of place.
Marie entered a little tavern and inn, setting Lily down on a chair while she got bread and water from the innkeeper.
"That girl your sister?" he asked gruffly, handing her the water.
"Why, yes," said Marie, suddenly on guard.
"She looks as though The Plague itself has come upon her," he said with a leer.
"Oh no, just some of sort of cold," lied Marie.
"You better hope it is...The Plague could quickly spread through these parts...too quickly."
Marie gave him a nod and a nervous laugh, hurrying back to her table.

{ this must live!!

I have my post on my other computer, so if I can get on tonight, I'll post it. If not, I'll edit with my post tomorrow afternoon. But this must live x_x. }