10-04-2013, 07:24 AM
The more Nyx saw of Darkshire, the more unsettled she became. Aesthetically, the villagers had done an excellent job of making it look as though every building was populated and lived-in; but it lacked the vivacity of a true, thriving town. It seemed desolate and empty, almost like every building was part of a play set. The townsfolks' artificial responses helped to clue Nyx in as to why Whirda was so suspicious of the people in Darkshire. Something was wrong, she just couldn't put her finger on what, exactly.
The City Hall itself was nothing special, if the exterior was anything to go by. It was one of the larger buildings within Darkshire, but that was one of the only features which really set it apart from the rest. Dobson paused as they approached the doors, gazing up at the City Hall almost reverently. His chest swelled with pride as he nodded to the guards blocking the door.
The two guards, much surlier and well-armoured than the ones before, peered down at Dobson, making no attempts to hide their sneers. “Dobby!” one of them called, his gruff voice indicative that his size was not solely attributed to his bulky armour. He stepped forward and jovially punched Dobson's shoulder.
If either Nyx or Whirda could see Dobson's face, they would see that the young man was nearing the end of his tether. He stiffened as his 'colleague' punched his shoulder, stepping backwards from the force of the blow, then adamantly straightening. “That's enough,” he muttered darkly. “Let us in.”
Nyx's curiosity was piqued by the tone Dobson's voice took. He sounded like a man who had a vicious streak – one he was rapidly nearing, thanks to his fellow guards treating him with a complete lack of respect. The short, snappy nature of the younger guard's sentences implied that he was shockingly close to snapping. The question on her mind now was, just what would happen if he DID snap?
She didn't really have time to ponder the possible outcomes, as the two guards blocking their passage to City Hall itself stepped aside without further mocking or argument. Dobson seemed to relax, and the darkness he had shown ebbed away just as easily as if the tide had swept it away.
Dobson silently lead Nyx and Whirda towards the City Hall's entrance. He paused as they approached the stairs leading inside, turning to face them.
“You can't bring those inside,” he stated simply, pointing at Cascade and Thanatos in turn. “You can leave them out here.”
The grounds surrounding the City Hall weren't entirely unfit for riding beasts, it had to be said. There was plenty of room for them to move freely, and there were a few troughs set up on the western side of the building for them to drink from. Nyx and Whirda shared a look before nodding, dismounting their respective beasts. Both women left their animals with an affectionate pat or scritch before rejoining Dobson at the entrance.
“The Mayor is inside,” Dobson stated somewhat unnecessarily, stepping inside. Nyx and Whirda followed. He guided them easily through the winding entrance and into the main hall. The interior of the City Hall was much more impressive than its exterior. It looked like a mix between a theatre and a political meeting room. The focal point of the main hall was the podium, surrounded by rows of chairs arranged in an almost militant formation. The upholstery suggested they were well-used, as though the City Hall got a lot of use out of its residents. That made sense, given the looming crisis outside of the gates.
The Mayor swept over to meet them in a blur of black coat-tails. He bowed his head politely upon recognizing Dobson, clasping his hands together eagerly and regarding his new guests with a childlike curiosity.
"Sorry to disturb you, Mayor," Dobson began. "These two primes are here to see you."
He emphasised the word as though it was some kind of ailment or disease, an intonation Nyx was quick to pick up on. She shot a sidelong glance at Whirda, whose eyes narrowed. She'd picked up on it, too.
"Don't hang around, dear boy!" the Mayor bellowed with a hearty chuckle, adjusting his monocle. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"
Nyx stepped forward before Dobson could speak, extending her hand in greeting. "I'm Nyx, and this is Whirda Windstrom. We come from the Tangled Green, on behalf of Lady Tyrande of Yggdrassil." Dobson glared at the back of her head, resentful that she hadn't let him introduce them.
The Mayor didn't seem phased, taking Nyx's hand and shaking it firmly. "A pleasure to meet you both," he said with a kindly nod. "Business from Tyrande, you say?"
"Did she stutter?" Whirda muttered. Nyx picked up on her snide comment and shot her a warning glance. "There's a blight within the Green. We're looking for someone who can help us cure it. Can you help?" Whirda continued coolly, as though she had never made the remark at all.
"A blight?" the Mayor repeated, clasping his hands together behind his back, turning to look at the podium. "Darkshire has had more than its fair share of those, I'm afraid to say."
'If only he knew about Ferelden, hmm?'
The voice that had been haunting Nyx over the last few days had uttered one careless little comment, but it had a profound effect on her mental state. She bristled, her entire face hardening, though she did her best to hide any kind of physical reaction to the surprise as her mind whirled with a thousand possibilities. Who was the voice? How did it know so much about her? Why wouldn't it leave her alone? Was it related to the Blight that haunted the Elves?
"As for a cure, well... I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to help you with that myself." The Mayor turned to face them, showing them his palms in an apologetic gesture.
"You wouldn't happen to know of a Professor Van Helsing, would you?" Nyx interjected, hoping that actively participating in the discussion would take her mind off of whatever was happening.
The Mayor chuckled, a malicious twinkle present for just a fleeting moment in his eyes. "He has done much for this town," he said gravely. "We are very grateful to him, and do our best to protect him as best as we can. So you'll understand my reluctance to help you find him."
'Or maybe he doesn't know?'
The City Hall itself was nothing special, if the exterior was anything to go by. It was one of the larger buildings within Darkshire, but that was one of the only features which really set it apart from the rest. Dobson paused as they approached the doors, gazing up at the City Hall almost reverently. His chest swelled with pride as he nodded to the guards blocking the door.
The two guards, much surlier and well-armoured than the ones before, peered down at Dobson, making no attempts to hide their sneers. “Dobby!” one of them called, his gruff voice indicative that his size was not solely attributed to his bulky armour. He stepped forward and jovially punched Dobson's shoulder.
If either Nyx or Whirda could see Dobson's face, they would see that the young man was nearing the end of his tether. He stiffened as his 'colleague' punched his shoulder, stepping backwards from the force of the blow, then adamantly straightening. “That's enough,” he muttered darkly. “Let us in.”
Nyx's curiosity was piqued by the tone Dobson's voice took. He sounded like a man who had a vicious streak – one he was rapidly nearing, thanks to his fellow guards treating him with a complete lack of respect. The short, snappy nature of the younger guard's sentences implied that he was shockingly close to snapping. The question on her mind now was, just what would happen if he DID snap?
She didn't really have time to ponder the possible outcomes, as the two guards blocking their passage to City Hall itself stepped aside without further mocking or argument. Dobson seemed to relax, and the darkness he had shown ebbed away just as easily as if the tide had swept it away.
Dobson silently lead Nyx and Whirda towards the City Hall's entrance. He paused as they approached the stairs leading inside, turning to face them.
“You can't bring those inside,” he stated simply, pointing at Cascade and Thanatos in turn. “You can leave them out here.”
The grounds surrounding the City Hall weren't entirely unfit for riding beasts, it had to be said. There was plenty of room for them to move freely, and there were a few troughs set up on the western side of the building for them to drink from. Nyx and Whirda shared a look before nodding, dismounting their respective beasts. Both women left their animals with an affectionate pat or scritch before rejoining Dobson at the entrance.
“The Mayor is inside,” Dobson stated somewhat unnecessarily, stepping inside. Nyx and Whirda followed. He guided them easily through the winding entrance and into the main hall. The interior of the City Hall was much more impressive than its exterior. It looked like a mix between a theatre and a political meeting room. The focal point of the main hall was the podium, surrounded by rows of chairs arranged in an almost militant formation. The upholstery suggested they were well-used, as though the City Hall got a lot of use out of its residents. That made sense, given the looming crisis outside of the gates.
The Mayor swept over to meet them in a blur of black coat-tails. He bowed his head politely upon recognizing Dobson, clasping his hands together eagerly and regarding his new guests with a childlike curiosity.
"Sorry to disturb you, Mayor," Dobson began. "These two primes are here to see you."
He emphasised the word as though it was some kind of ailment or disease, an intonation Nyx was quick to pick up on. She shot a sidelong glance at Whirda, whose eyes narrowed. She'd picked up on it, too.
"Don't hang around, dear boy!" the Mayor bellowed with a hearty chuckle, adjusting his monocle. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"
Nyx stepped forward before Dobson could speak, extending her hand in greeting. "I'm Nyx, and this is Whirda Windstrom. We come from the Tangled Green, on behalf of Lady Tyrande of Yggdrassil." Dobson glared at the back of her head, resentful that she hadn't let him introduce them.
The Mayor didn't seem phased, taking Nyx's hand and shaking it firmly. "A pleasure to meet you both," he said with a kindly nod. "Business from Tyrande, you say?"
"Did she stutter?" Whirda muttered. Nyx picked up on her snide comment and shot her a warning glance. "There's a blight within the Green. We're looking for someone who can help us cure it. Can you help?" Whirda continued coolly, as though she had never made the remark at all.
"A blight?" the Mayor repeated, clasping his hands together behind his back, turning to look at the podium. "Darkshire has had more than its fair share of those, I'm afraid to say."
'If only he knew about Ferelden, hmm?'
The voice that had been haunting Nyx over the last few days had uttered one careless little comment, but it had a profound effect on her mental state. She bristled, her entire face hardening, though she did her best to hide any kind of physical reaction to the surprise as her mind whirled with a thousand possibilities. Who was the voice? How did it know so much about her? Why wouldn't it leave her alone? Was it related to the Blight that haunted the Elves?
"As for a cure, well... I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to help you with that myself." The Mayor turned to face them, showing them his palms in an apologetic gesture.
"You wouldn't happen to know of a Professor Van Helsing, would you?" Nyx interjected, hoping that actively participating in the discussion would take her mind off of whatever was happening.
The Mayor chuckled, a malicious twinkle present for just a fleeting moment in his eyes. "He has done much for this town," he said gravely. "We are very grateful to him, and do our best to protect him as best as we can. So you'll understand my reluctance to help you find him."
'Or maybe he doesn't know?'