Terror in the Night
It was the night where the veil between the dead and the living were thought to be thinned. Throughout the day, the students could honor their ancestors and loved ones with candles lit and places to place photographs of their loved ones, whether recently passed or long gone. There would be a solemn yet peaceful atmosphere throughout the day of the thirty-first of October.
The few muggle-borns who may lurk the halls of Durmstrang, might remember their childhood experiences with this holiday, though it would be entirely different from the costumes and candy that they would have been accustomed to.
Elegant cream-colored paper, ink, and quills would be provided for those who wished to write letters to the dead they wished to honor.
For those who would celebrate All Saint's Day the next day, students would be allowed to ask for the materials and foods they would need to celebrate their traditions. For those who'd celebrate the Slava for the Serbs who roamed the halls of Durmstrang, they would have an opportunity to receive the traditional Slavskikolač.
For those who did not have religious significance, students would be allowed to celebrate with costumes and candy if they wished.
But with all the festivities over, now was the time for the students to be alert and ready, for who knows what happens in the cold wintery air of Durmstrang's mountain, forest, and icy lake.
It would be witching hour, three in the morning, most students would be asleep. Without a noise outside, they would suddenly hear five knocks at the door, in the following pattern, dun, dun-dun, dun, dun. A black envelope with a gold rim and a symbol of a dragon eye would slide under the door, and if they opened the envelope, they would find a mysterious note saying, "Find me where the moon has its greatest power, but is dulled by the potions of man. Perhaps you see it occupied during the full moon, oh, where could I be? If you find me, there may be danger, but there reward would be also. "
Notes@Semyon Viktorovich Reznikov
- Moderation will occur once a week, if rolls are a success, more clues will come.
- Please follow standard rules, 200 words minimum, and please only use spells and items already in your trunk.
- Reward for winning this IC game is IC sword crafted by our previous headmistress, in honor of her memory
- Beware of danger! Something may be lurking in the night.
Terror in the Night
norwegian ❅ russian ❅ english ❅ swedish
━━━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━
It was late on this Friday night. Well, Saturday early hours. Astrid was amongst the last ones awake, book open as she was reading with the light of her aspen wand. It was about three in the morning, and the girl was about to close her book and go to sleep when she heard knocking at the door. dun, dun-dun, dun, dun Weird, she thought, as she stood up and walked towards the door. There, on the floor, an envelope, black and gold with a dragon's eye. The girl took it and opened it, reading the note — more of an enigma — that was inside. "where the moon has its greatest power" The cave where werewolves went during the full moon. "If you find me, there may be danger, but there reward would be also." She got dressed — a red dress, trench coat and her doc marten's — before quietly making her way out of the dormitories, wand and envelope in hand. Astrid walked out of the castle, a cold wing hitting her face. The cave. Even if she never had the occasion to go and see it, she knew where it was. As she started walking towards the meeting point given by the note, she wondered if other student had received the same envelope. Was it a trap? There was a chance, she chuckled. A little spooky adventure for Halloween? Sure, but who was organising it? The only sounds in the forest were her own faint footsteps, the wind through branches and the last leaves of the year, and other noises that could be wild animals, or other footsteps. Was someone following her? If she was not the only one getting the note, it was probable.
Even with the moon a few days from being full, it was getting hard to see as Astrid walked further into the forest. She put the envelope in her coat pocket, whispered "Lumos", and partially hid the light with her other hand. After a few more minutes of walking, the trees spaced out and the girl found herself in front of the cavern. "Perhaps you see it occupied during the full moon" From where she stood, she couldn't see anyone. She wasn't expecting werewolves, the full moon was in a week, but she was expecting someone. "oh, where could I be?" She didn't get the enigma wrong, she was sure of it. Astrid stepped closer to the cave, wand still shining and shieled by her hand.
| Astrid Théa Olsen "i will make you believe you are lovely" |
Terror in the Night
Note: Thoughts, Russian, English |
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31 Oктябрь October 2025г.Year |
Труп* понравилось бы это мероприятие... The corpse* would have liked the event....
A sly grin appeared on her face as she looked at herself in the mirror; silver covered her skin, and her red hair shone bright like the fire that kept her dormitory warm. The afternoon had been spent going through traditions Boram had grown used to, revering to the old blood that still carried weight amongst those who still had relevance... influence. The gray, lanky child her cousin was; always regarded for carrying an elegance others took note of, but she knew.
Boram knew Nabi was not the angel praised by those with a fool's lens. They were blood after all.
Her grin faltered slightly, looking down at the photograph in her hand before muttering, "Если бы только она была здесь... If only she were here..." She had not heard from her, had no idea if she received her owl, and her parents only spoke in hushed voices after they found her eavesdropping... Это должно было случиться It was bound to happen, so her father had said before being immediately silenced when her mother caught sight of her.
A huff would echo, turning as she walked away from the mirror, the memory left behind with each heavy step Boram took. A candle lit earlier with the strike of a match flickered as she walked past another photograph; an unevenly folded paper with equally messy scribbles sat beside the moving image, who appeared to watch with a sense of tyranny.
"Проклятая секретность. Blasted secrecy."
Boram's leather-gloved hand placed down the photograph she held before reaching for the black envelope with golden rims. Looking at the symbol of a Dragon eye, her eyes narrowed, muttering as if she could still hear the sudden knocks at her door, "Это, должно быть, гребаная шутка. This has to be a fucking joke." Yet why was she dressed as if fully prepared to run into Battle? Boram's jaw clenched as her free hand ran through her hair in mild annoyance, knowing she would take the bait.
Опасно, да? Danger, hm?
Her green eyes moved toward the recently sharpened metal that glinted as it caught the light from a nearby candle, revealing an intricate design etched into the smooth blade she had used to tear the envelope open. Normally, the dagger sat at her bedside... for safekeeping. Tilting her head, she began to reach for it when something popped in her head.
Had she been the only receiver?
Perhaps she was not the only one who would be interested in the possible reward the note mentioned, and that caused her to grab her wand before leaving her dormitory. The sounds of her footsteps echoed in heavy thuds as she walked through the corridors. Her mediocre brain churning a list possible places the note could be describing, "Все это место могло бы превратиться в зону боевых действий... The whole place could be a war zone..."
Как же я ненавижу загадки How I hate riddles, where was Nabi when she needed her? Huffing, she looked to the side and halted, the words playing in her mind as if being read to her until it seemed to finally click.
"Пещера! The cave!" Her excitement suddenly disappeared as she grimaced at the possibility of getting werewolf critters... for all she knew, the whole cave could be contaminated, and it was simply an elaborate setup. No, she had to be smart. Her paranoia grew as she decided to continue with caution, walking around in the silent darkness of the castle until she made her way outside.
The wind wooshed as crickets chirped, the moon lit her way as she looked around her surroundings with each step she took, half expecting someone to jump out of a bush to scare her. Her hand balled into a fist as she continued to walk, ready for anything, until she saw the entrance of the cave at a distance. Boram did not go straight toward the cave; no, she walked closer in an almost zigzag manner, watching... waiting.
Unaware that she was not the only one there.
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*труп means corpse.
A nickname she gave Nabi due to her features. Lovely, isn't it?
A nickname she gave Nabi due to her features. Lovely, isn't it?
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Terror in the Night
Astrid, a fifth year casts Lumos against the dark night finding her way through the forest to cave where werewolves stayed on their darkest night. She stood in front of the cave. At the same moment, Boram, a second year, her paranoia growing, carefully made her way through the same path to the cave, waiting for someone or something to appear. Though they must have been within two metres within each other, they did not hear each other's foot falls, nor the rustling of the leaves as the two young ladies found the answer to the riddle.
Perhaps if their eyesight was sharp enough they would see that the cave was eerily damaged, different that what it should appear to be. They would be confronted with something having gone incredibly wrong. Instead of the clear blue lake that reflected the moonlight, they would be faced with dark red liquid, not unlike the color of plum juice. The skylight that allowed the moonlight through was damaged and the room was in disarray.
However, the moment that the two Durmstrang students found themselves staring at the truth of something having gone incredibily wrong, suddenly something would personally go wrong for them.
Astrid accidentally steps on a part of the dirt ground that has the following circular symbol with a swirling repetitive pattern of harsh angles and a core darkness, and it sends her tumbling down a quick ride into the subterranean world. Though the ride itself is purposefully and coincendally safe, it is a a magical slide down after all, Astrid falls hard onto an unfortunately concrete floor, about two meters from the end of the slide. Her arm cracks and her knees and legs are skinned. Due to the angle of the subterranean level of the cave, Astrid hits her head hard as well, creating a minor concussion.
Boram experiences the opposite of her fellow female student. Though she was quite careful along the way to the cave, during her wait, she touches a branch with the same symbol that Astrid stepped on.
A large ventaculous tentacula vine grabs her, sending her upwards onto a tree. However, unlike Astrid, Boram is somewhat less injured, only suffering from a scrape on her elbow, knee, and a split lip. She finds herself hanging from a tree branch with the cold eastern europe wind blowing against her.
Notes@Boram Borisova
- Moderation will occur once a week, if rolls are a success, more clues will come.
- Please follow standard rules, 200 words minimum, and please only use spells and items already in your trunk.
- Reward for winning this IC game is IC sword crafted by our previous headmistress, in honor of her memory
- Beware of danger! Something may be lurking in the night.
@Astrid Olsen
Please begin to post your actions. You will be allowed two modded actions each round from now on!
Terror in the Night
ReducioPlatinum blonde hair with blue eyes that look like water reflecting the sun, thick dark coat, Durmstrang uniform, wand in hand.
German
English
Russian
French
Thoughts
17
@Astrid Olsen
@Boram Borisova
Durmstrang
October 31, 2025Terror in the NightGellert had heard that at Hogwarts the ghosts would enjoy this night with festivities. Perhaps it was fitting, after all the veil between the dead and the living was said to be thin at this time of year He had a photograph develped of the friends that had passed away last year at the horrific scene when he had visited Hogwarts for the Fall festivities last year. IT was frightening how much time had already passed, that he was older than any of the victims who had passed away would be. He lit candles for his long-forgotten ancestors and wished them well in the next great adventure.
There was some peace found in honouring those lost in the Pyre. It was strange to think that he had experienced a loss of a loved one so early in his life, when his parents had not experienced such till their late fifties. Gellert went fitfully to sleep as the memories of lost loved ones haunted him once more.
Then, he was startled awake by five knocks. He wondered who could be at the door, but before he could open it, a black as ebony envelope slid through the door with the symbol of a dragon. He opened it and inside he found a riddle that could only lead to the cave where the werewolves went every month. The envelope was likely a trap, but what else would a Durmstrang do, but grab his cloak and leave the castle to find this mysterious intruder. Perhaps it was a message from those he had lost.
It was eerily quiet in the castle, and Gellert wondered if he was the only one who recieved this secret message. Did the professors recieve this message? Did the headmaster? There was something oddly terrifying yet silly about this entire adventure. Well, as expectant Healer, Gellert could at least help if there was truly danger, and Durmstrang was well known for their strength in fighting, he himself included.
Gellert trekked his way towards the cave, looking carefully to see if he could find any clues that might lead him to the intruder, or an answer to why this was happening. Gellert also attempted to cast Protego on himself, just in case, something were to go awry.
Modded Actions
1. Looking for clues
2. Cast Protego
PC | Tristan Theramin
Terror in the Night
The disapproval of cowards is praise to the brave.
German English Russian French Spanish Japanese Swahili Samoan
44
@Boram Borisova
@Astrid Olsen
@Gellert Schroeder
Durmstrang
October 31, 2025
Death was always a constant presence in Albrecht's life. There was no doubt to that. With the dangerous line of work, Emery had found himself in, along with the tragic circumstances of his life, death was nothing but a common yet entirely devastating reality in his life.
In a way, perhaps that was indeed the reason why, Emery also gravitated greatly towards the day before All-Saints Day. There was something comforting about the way, life revolved around the dead this time of year. First upon his heart of course, was his late husband, and his precious child. They had been murdered by the very criminals Emery had been chasing, and in a strange turn of events, one of Durmstrang's very own students' family was indeed the cause of their deaths. Yet, they were laid to rest, and so Emery laid them to rest in his heart in peace every single year, with a single rose, a candle, and a kiss. He would burn these artifacts every year, perhaps torturing himself with survivor's guilt, but also in a way to seek absolution.
There was nothing to be done, but to respect their memories, to yearn for them, and then to spend the night mourning them. It was nothing but tragic. Perhaps the students would notice his especially downturned look and the way he walked on this day as if there was a heavy weight on his shoulder.
This was even more so after the violent events of last year, the explosion that had killed so many students, and injured so many others, especially their headmistress. It was surreal for Albrecht, though he desired power, he also felt guilty for the events of the Pyre as the world had begun to call it. There was something achingly inherent in his heart, that always unfortunate events followed Emery around.
He also wrote the names of each student who lost their lives that day as well as the headmistress' name on a parchment and burned it.
He went to bed after nursing a glass of firewhiskey and fell into a very deep sleep.
He was awoken suddenly, when he felt hands around his neck.
1. Fighting the choking grip around his neck.
2. Attempting to see who the intruder is.
Terror in the Night
Note: Thoughts, Russian, English |
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31 Oктябрь October 2025г.Year |
"Здесь слишком тихо... It's too quiet..."
She muttered beneath her breath, her eyes narrowing as her rigid form glinted in silver beneath the moonlight. Boram knew enough to know that only fools ran into battles headfirst; that those who won wars won with strategy...
At least that was what she was told when she stated that strength would get her her first win in their game of монстр в лабиринте*.
The cold wind blew, and her hair hissed with each strand that brushed against the metal along her shoulders. Eyelashes fluttered as she glanced around. Perhaps she should take an idea from the book of strategies. "Засада An ambush" would have been her best bet as she whispered to herself in thought.
Whoever sent her the note would not see her arrive, right?
A grin began to play along her face, her focus returning to the cave just ahead when she finally appeared to notice a rather important detail, Почему он красный? Why is it red? Why had she not seen it before? Before she could even think, she took a step forward, and a leaf rustled.
But it was not the one that slid against her arm.
Boram's head snapped to the side, looking for the source of the noise while her dilated pupils mirrored the darkness that seemed to swallow the faint light. Her wand drawn, oblivious that her sudden movement triggered a trap disguised as a nearby branch.
Until she felt it.
A chill would momentarily run up her spine as something cold grabbed her, barely having enough time to look at what had grabbed her; a surprised gasp was all that escaped her. The sight changed from trees to numerous branches as her skin stung; her hands moved to shield her face when her instincts kicked in. As if subconsciously arriving at the conclusion that the branches were causing her pain.
With a loud groan, the sudden attack stopped, but the sharp pain persisted as she relaxed her shoulders. "черт! damn!" So much for an ambush. Boram was silent for a moment, her eyes closed, attempting to collect herself whilst ignoring the ache in her body and the peculiar taste of iron in her mouth.
Perhaps it was the sound of her heart beating... perhaps it was not...
There was a rustle, as if the forest were laughing at her pain, to which she huffed in response, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the upside-down view outside her eyelids. Her hair danced with the wind, mentally cursing at it, knowing it would not make a difference to her predicament. Boram continued to hang from the tree branch for a while longer, until she began to move around and look for a way to get down, muttering the whole time about hexing whoever caused her to bleed.
Paranoia ignited into rage quicker than the matchstick she had struck earlier.
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*монстр в лабиринте means monster in the labyrinth.
A made-up game that Boram and Nabi played when they were younger.
A made-up game that Boram and Nabi played when they were younger.
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Terror in the Night
norwegian ❅ russian ❅ english ❅ swedish
━━━━━━━━☆━━━━━━━━
The girl got close enough to the cavern to sense that something was off. She had never been here herself, but she knew the lake wasn't supposed to look so dark red. Something about the atmosphere felt deeply wrong and, curious as she was, Astrid took a stepped closer to investigate. One step, two steps, threeShe was falling. Well, not falling but more so sliding down towards somewhere below the surface. Loosing her footing, she exclaimed "What the hell!?" But then she was actually falling, not from that high, though she still yelped in surprise. Astrid tried catching herself with her arms, trying to pillow her fall, but her knees scraped the concrete floor, her left arm cracked, and she still managed to hit her head on the ground. The girl was lying face down on the floor, her arm bent weirdly and her dress some kind a pool of light red fabric — similar to blood in the low lighting. Her wand had rolled a few meters in front of her, still lit up.
Head dizzy, she tried sitting up, right arm, left arm. The pain hit, the girl screamed "FUCK", tears welled up in her eyes. She managed to sit up, cradling her arm, and reached for her wand. Astrid was forcing herself to breath slow, deep, to not panic. She needed to find a way to get out of here. Her arm was throbbing in pain, and even moving it the slightest bit hurt like hell. She needed to bandage her arm, it wont do much, but at least her arm wouldn't move as much. "Ferula" she tried casting, hoping it would work.
Astrid then looked up, trying to see from where she had slid down. Nothing. She couldn't see anything over her head. The girl sighed. She hadn't gone to Hogwarts for the Fall Ball to avoid unnecessary danger, but here she was, in her own school, trapped underground with her head hurting and her arm broken. She thought of the note, she couldn't have been the only one receiving it. Someone else must be going in the direction of the cave. She started screaming, in case someone was near and could hear her. "HELP! IS SOMEONE UP HERE? HELP!!" Yeah, there probably wasn't anyone to hear her. "Fuck this shit."
She was sitting on a concrete floor underground, near a cave that barely anyone came to when it wasn't the full moon, and even when it was, Romeo was the only one "using" it. No one was coming to help her. Blinking her tears away, she stood up, feeling dizzy for a few seconds because of how she hit her head a few moments before. Holding her lit up wand in front of her, Astrid tried looking around, searching something that could help her get out of here.
actions casting ferula on her broken arm
looking around the room
looking around the room
| Astrid Théa Olsen "i will make you believe you are lovely" |
Terror in the Night
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TERRIBLE PRESENCE [AFFECTS ALL] | PERFECTIONIST | BINDING MARK [BORAM]
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────Arno hadn't meant to be awake at his hour, it was one of those night where sleep simply refused to settle within the confines of his mind. Hovering just out of reach like a sulking cat out for revenge. He laid in bed staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint scratch of branches against the window, the night unusually still; until it wasn't.
A strange sound crept in from somewhere beyond the door, not loud or distinct, Just Wrong, in ways that made his senses stand on edge around it. Arno had no intention of investigating, his indifference towards unnecessary drama remained one of the few constants in his ever changing life, but the universe had it's own plans already woven.
Rising to get a glass of water, he saw the figure of Boram slipping out in the distance, Head down, moving fast with purpose in her eyes.
Not that confidence on her was suspicious, but at this hour? Everything was.
Arno paused, watching the door click shut behind her. A normal man would've gone back to bed, a smarter one too. But curiosity and worry threaded between his ribs like a string tugging him towards her and before he knew it, the boy was finding his coat, taking a step forward before freezing.
Something black lay in front of his door, slid under it.
He leaned down, picking up the envelope with jet black colors and gold trims. The image of a dragon's eye was specially eye catching. Elegant and unsettling, the latter could very well define Arno. He opened it carefully, unfolding the note written in looping.
"Find me where the moon has its greatest power, but is dulled by the potions of man. Perhaps you see it occupied during the full moon, oh, where could I be? If you find me, there may be danger, but there reward would be also. "
Arno read it twice
And then a third time for good measure.
It didn't take long for the clues to Align, the cave, it had to be it. Boram was heading somewhere and Arno had a very strong guess it was the same place.
Slipping his coat over his shoulders, Arno followed, but–only after he'd made a small detour.
Entering the room of one Romeo, Arno jotted a little note in haste with only message being "FOLLOW ME" written in a hurried manner, one much too unlike his own. With the lack of a better spot to leave this note, Arno deemed it best to stab Romeo's clothes, while he was within, piercing the note between clothes and the dagger.
He continued back on Boram's tail–Quietly, efficiently, a shadow following another's attempt at being a shadow.
The closer he got to the lake, the stranger the air became. Heavy, metallic and wrong. Reaching the edge he instantly saw it, the lake, which was one cold and blue had turned red. Rich and dark, like wine spilled across an endless surface. A sight that pressed unease into the boy's chest.
Worst of all, somewhere in all this, he'd lost Boram. One moment she was ahead of him and the next it seemed as if the darkness had swallowed her. Then came a sharp sound from the cave.
Arno didn't hesitate moving inside,
He stepped in, wand drawn and activated their binding mark.
"мир," he whispered, feeling his connection to Boram building back up as the static warmth sparked faintly beneath his skin.
"Was that you?" Arno called softly into the darkness, "Are you good?"
He moved into the cave, steps careful, shoulders tense, eyes trained forward like a predator, every sense focused.
@Boram Borisova
─────────────────────────────────────────────────────────Observing his surroundings carefully | Cutting Boram down from tree using diffindo.
| Prat Pass - Slytherin | |
Sta: 7 | Eva: 10 | Str: 6 | Wis: 7 | Arc: 7 | Acc: 13 |
Sta: 9 | Eva: 15 | Str: 0 | Wis: 7 | Arc: 5 | Acc: 15 |
Terror in the Night
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Intimidation in Effect
He has developed some slightly lupine features that while not readily noticeable to the casual observer indicates the presence of a feral nature that lay just beneath a placid, normal-seeming surface...
-1 Accuracy & +1 Critical Failure Range for those without Fearless
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Intimidation in Effect
He has developed some slightly lupine features that while not readily noticeable to the casual observer indicates the presence of a feral nature that lay just beneath a placid, normal-seeming surface...
-1 Accuracy & +1 Critical Failure Range for those without Fearless
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He was moving slowly through a white world with great black trees who climbed tall and majestically and whose crowns dared not to touch one another, permitting perfect moonlight to flow through the remaining gaps. Moving was difficult, he was favoring one side and drifting to the right due to it, towards a copse of bushes that were laced in long, black thorns and winter-blooming flowers. His left leg felt like dead weight, and something didn't let him stop moving. He had to keep moving, for some reason. Turning around, going back, was not an option.
Struggling forwards for a little longer, the snow was making his sights blur with the glow of the lunar disc upon it. There was a thin layer of frost over the top of the powder, and every movement he made broke it, revealing grainy snowfall beneath from prior precipitation. He couldn't feel his leg, and finally collapsed onto his hands to continue onwards on all fours. Magic, concentrating on it, was difficult. The worm inside was turning, twisting. It was... uncertain sights turned upwards and spotted at an angle the moon that had risen behind him--cold, pale,
and full.
A pink trail was in his wake, cutting through the snow from where he could see in another copse behind him, winding and drifting, until it came to lay beneath him.
There was a scent in the air, though he could not currently smell anything; he could sense that it was present, knew that something was there in range of him, and that it was following. Hands dug into the snow, towards the copse. There was nowhere to run, so he had to find somewhere to hide.
He wasn't going to make it.
Arms shook under him and then he collapsed into the snow, weakness and the familiar crippling sensation of metamorphosis overwhelming the immediate world. He had, responsibly, remembered. He knew he had remembered. And that was for the worse. Sedated. Docile. Under the eyes of the crown-shy black trees of forest, trailed like a stag to its collapse, he changed. Nausea vanished, exhaustion clung. Strength heightened and then ebbed with as much force as it came. The human had already run itself to exhaustion; the wolf could not even stand.
A crackle of red light that punched into his lower back from behind silenced the unpleasant immediate sensation, scattering conscious thought to the wind as he came to the feeling of a force of something stabbing near to his actual body. I was in a cold sweat and the nausea had redoubled as I suddenly lurched upright with almost a bark at my lips. The room was dark and I was half-wearing the sheets and half tangled in them. This typically tended to happen if I was having a restless night: one of those that was drawing nearer and nearer to the full moon. My hand darted towards the thing that had practically almost impaled me, fingers finding the hilt of a blade as I detected the crinkling of paper on the periphery.
"What the hell?" My voice was even deeper than usual and unwarmed, cracked a little bit with the force of the whisper.
Note it was, as I pulled the dagger out of it and then read it quickly. FOLLOW ME
"What kind of messed up joke is this--" I started, before the door out of the dormitory closed with a signature sound. I was quiet for a moment before a justified anger took hold again. I was already feeling terrible, what with the moon getting the way it was, and now someone had the gall to almost stab me?
Worse yet, I had a sneaking suspicion who would be the type to pull this kind of crap. Durmstrang's younger years were definitely the psychotic sort to... "Cazzo, pezzo di merda, svegliarmi cosi 'per Dio solo sa cosa e Dio solo sa perche'... Fucking hell, piece of shit, waking me up like this for God knows what for God knows why..." Oh forget it.
Cloak, wand, broom, and a pair of potions on a bandolier across my chest, and I was ready to follow into what I assumed had to be a terrible, terrible situation when it came to concerning the kids. The note was in my pocket, but there was another one to be found, it seemed. One that looked just a tad more elegant than the hasty one that had been essentially pinned on me.
This second note and its embossed back I took in both hands and had to reread it twice because in exhaustion my mind wandered on accident twice. I flipped it over to eye up the eye. Spooky enough. It was obvious enough that the location alluded to was Werewolf Cavern... the place I knew rather well by now. Not exactly a warm, inviting place, that. Perfect for a prank or something "spooky", I supposed.
"Of course someone is throwing a frat party in the cave." The growling disappointment in my voice was painfully obvious. Irritated. I was going to have to be dealing with the overwhelming mess they left afterwards, after all; scents and all. "Nowhere is sacred."
But on the topic of the scent, I was finding myself inexplicably becoming a remarkable bloodhound. The scent on the note was present on the card, as was another smell... and another... and another. One of them was that of Astrid. And there was another beneath it. Many people had touched this card already, had left behind traces that I could detect. The question was, however, if despite the cross-contamination I could designate one in particular over the others.
I left the castle, letting my senses run free. I was trying to lock down those particular smells, to trace them backwards, to isolate them. If there was a split in the trail, I took the one less traveled by, careful to remember where Werewolf Cavern actually lay in position to where I wandered. After all, I knew the way there easily... it was a matter of if there was something else out of place that I could potentially take interest in.
I was following... but whom that was I couldn't quite say yet.
Action: Use Lycanthrope Tracking to follow scent on the Card
(Also Attempting to Utilize Wolf's Grace to Track in Stealth)
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───────────────────────────────────────────────────────────𓃦 |Stam10| Eva8| Str20| Wis10| Acc17| Arc0
Heightened Senses | Tracking | Wolf's Grace | Intimidation | Obnoxiously Strong | Martial Artist | Muggle ConditionInventory
Wand | Oakshaft 79 | Murtlap Essence | Wound-Cleaning Potion | Arno's Dagger
@Arno Dorian, @Boram Borisova, @Astrid Olsen & @Emery Albrecht