[Nexus] The Hunting Grounds

[Mr. Moon]

Swamp

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[Swamp]

<.< Can't blame the guy for being careful. Especially in a place like this one. And after being wracked with hallucinations.
Either way, Wenomir tries to remove the cloak from the branch and examine it more thoroughly.

Wenomir has gained one (1) Cloak of Invisibility! It drapes over his hands, hiding them from sight. It might be somewhat disconcerting to the demon slayer - his arms suddenly stopping at his elbows, nothing but mist where his hands should be. Holding it in his hands, Wenomir becomes aware of some of its properties. For instance, it only works on sentient creatures. When worn by or placed on non-sentient animals, objects or plants, it will appear exactly as it did when hanging from the tree. However when it is worn by sentient creatures, it can't be deactivated unless it's taken off. It's too fragile to be wadded up and stuffed in a pocket, but carefully folding it and putting it in a back or sack is a sufficient way to store it between uses. Because it's so fragile, wearing it in combat is probably not the best of ideas. If it takes too much damage it'll stop working.

Elsewhere

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Elsewhere

"I let my instincts rule my thoughts and dived into the pond when I knew that... Whatever-it-was could control the pondweed and wrap me up and, more importantly, already knew my tricks." Mateo bows his head as he speaks, though he thinks he's learnt his lesson and is not embarrassed by mistakes when he can learn from them instead.

"A true hunter fights with both intelligence and instinct. He must allow neither to over-ride him. He must always be in control of his actions. You lost control of your actions."

For several long minutes, the Goddess looks down upon Mateo with an unwavering and thoughtful expression. Finally, she speaks.

"There are many powerful beasts in my domain. To an unskilled hunter, they are deadly and should be avoided. But to a true hunter, they are merely a challenge. If you are a true hunter, Vampire, then you will be able to slay one of these beasts. I will grant you three days and three nights in my domain. If you die during that time, you will die forever. If you survive, you will return to me at the end. You will tell me of your victories, show me your trophies. You will prove to me that you are a true hunter. Are you capable of this, Vampire?"

Hoodoo Forest

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[Hoodoo Forest]

It's hard to ignore something when one isn't even cognizant of the thing to be ignored. Still, being moved about did appear to get a bit of a rise from the dead wolf. Partially due to the fact that it was probably difficult to flip things over with tusks without poking the thing in question. And Pain was normally a good way to get something's attention.

Still, it would be as if the wolf was deeply drunk if one watched it's movements while it tried to stand up. It took at least two attempts for it to get to it's feet, panting all the while. It was weakened by the sunlight so each motion took more effort.

The wolf would eye the grand lizard, gauging if it should stand it's ground or run off to safer grounds... But that was behind a haze of hunger that urged it to attack. To bite. To drink the sweet sanguine elixir in the beast's veins. And it was getting harder to resist.

The lizard jerks back once the wolf moves, skittering back several metres. So the mammal was alive. It's flat, thin tongue flickers in and out between its teeth, tasting the air. What was this strange creature so crassly sleeping in its territory? It moved like a living beast yet it smelled like carrion.

Whatever it was, the iguana had no desire for it to stay. It didn't trust its meat enough for a meal, but if it stayed than the iguana would have to drive it out itself. A second time, the iguana stretches its neck out, and hisses loudly. The multi-coloured fan of skin behind its neck unfolds, making it look even larger.

Final warning.

The Crag

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The Crag

A thousand witches, a thousand worlds. They are masters of the wastes, of the wind and tide, of the cold and the dark. They wander in old places, over misty barrows, amidst tombstones without number or name. These places grant them power.

One such place falls within the domain of the Huntress. And while She might lay claim, the Crag belonged to a witch long before it was Hers to take. Here, in a treacherous pass between two rocky wastelands, there is a fire pit. A young race of men would worship the witch here, soon after the Cycle began. These men are no more, and in the frozen earth itself, their bones can still be found. Only the Pit remains. Smoke rises from the Crag for the first time in a a great many years. Great, ugly crows fly to and from the Crag, carrying wood to be burnt.

As they do so, the fire grows, a beacon to weary hunters or a challenge to those who yet live. It makes no difference to the witch. This fire is situated in a small, rocky bowl at the edge of the Crag, up a steep hill blanketed in fresh snow. Even in the height of summer, this place is cold as the Void.

Mercutio appears at the edge of the Crag in a puff of blue, sulphuric smoke. For a few moments he stands in place, resting after teleporting so far. As he takes his brief repose, he surveys the land cautiously. Curiously. Vashti the bird of paradise rests on his shoulder, her beautiful orange and pink tail running down his back.

How very interesting. This place was ancient. It felt ancient, looked ancient. The ambient energy was different than the rest of this plane, too. Much colder. More like home. It was like a little bubble of air inside a sealed orb of water.

The smoke wafting up from the bottom was curious, too. There were several reasons it might be there. It could be a wildfire, but it was too small and contained for that. So perhaps it was some young mortal, full of bravado and swagger, come to the Hunting Grounds to prove his strength to a girl back home. So young and inexperienced that he doesn't even realize that the fire he has built to warm himself in the bitter cold is a beacon to other more experienced hunters. Or perhaps whoever built it wanted to draw attention from others. And that was what intrigued Mercutio the most.

With one final look around, Mercutio makes his way down the mountain range and into the bowl at the bottom.