Meriwether gave the sage a slight smile "Prudent! Prudent indeed Mr. Gasgano. Spoken as a wise man should. I suppose it leaves some doubt of Joseph & I's wisdom then. Never the less, a gentleman would not allow two of the fairer sex to transverse the wilds alone. So regardless of the outcome... I am Miss Raines' man so to speak."

He then caught sight of Aalyssa's ears. The were strangely different yes! However, delicate & beautiful just the same.

He said some what under his breath "It would seem... it would seem I am already out of my element Mr. Gasgano. Quite!"

"A man learns from his own experience and what is right for one, is not necessarily correct for another" the sage responds to Meriwether's comments about prudence.  "Personally, I am not strong in battle, therefore it seems appropriate to take whatever protection  one can muster. And daemons are not one of my specialities, undead now, that is a different matter." he continues as they wait for Amanda's description of their destination.

"However, please call me Peter.  If we are to be thrown into an adventure together it is better to be on socially good terms, is it not?" the halfelf offers with a smile, "And as for being out of your element, I suspect we all are.  It is easier for me, perhaps, as I have spent a number of years traveling through different worlds and environments.  One learns to have an open mind when meeting new and different people." he concludes with a soft chuckle.

Amanda nodded as each of them made their way out of the tavern and onto the porch, drawing breaths on her cigarette slowly. When Peter asked her about the daemons, she was midway through drawing in, and as the others had arrived and interjected, she'd let their conversation move forward without her input.

"I'm on the trail of a trio of them at the moment. Call themselves the family - I don't know why, they're not even Italian."

She paused for a moment, before realizing that the joke was probably going to be lost on everyone. Peter and Aalyssa were clearly not even from her world, and she doubted that Meriwether and Joe were from a time in her world where the mafia really existed powerfully outside of Italy.

"Anyway, they possessed these two guys and a girl. That's how it works on my world," She continued, now beginning to explain the situation. "The daemons possess humans, and run their little evil tasks that way. It's been millenia since a pure daemon actually walked the world.

"Which is why the first thing I need every one of you who are with me to remembe is this: what we're hunting doesn't just look human, they are human - they're living breathing people, with daemon spirits inside them. First choice is always to capture - killing is only an option if necessary. Got it?"

"So we are talking about a possession then, rather than true daemons from Gehenna and the other nether planes?" the Sage asks with a slight frown  "Are they, then, possessed by spirits from the outerplanes of spirits from the lands of the dead?  While the former is not unheard of in the realms that i come from, the latter is just as likely." he adds partly explaining the reasons for his question.

Meriwether's forehead furrowed in confusion trying to follow the beautiful woman before him. This was getting most complicated indeed. Demons & possessions, such things were most alien to the Englishman. Of course the Native Americans to which he had spoken thought that many of the living things had a spirit. A Buddhist he once meet certainly believed in demons as well as in many gods. As Christian he knew of Lucifer of course. Yet the talk of demons...

"I say! So we are to capture these unfortunates & bring them in alive for the person they are, is still contained within the bodies the demons now posses?"


He turned to Joseph "Did you hear that Joseph... just wing them ole chap. If you must of course."
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:14, Sun 08 Feb 2009.

Joe nodded. Taking prisoners was never a problem for him. He didn't think much about demons in human form, he figured someone else would handle that. Then Meriwether mentioned something about winging these things... That could get sloppy.

"So Miss Raines, these demons," he said, "they going to surrender when we train guns on 'em?"

"And arrows? I mean, if they do not have a healthy fear of our weapons, it might be just a small problem," Aalyssa added.

"Whoa, whoa, one at a time guys." Amanda said, grinning at her new companions to show that she wasn't really overwhelmed, and speaking in good humour.

"Right. Peter, you can probably tell me more about that than I can tell you. My understanding of the spiritual planes in my world is Heaven and Hell. Heaven's for the good guys, Hell's for the bad guys - so the daemons, they come from Hell."

"As for guns - and arrows," She added, giving a nod to Aalyssa. "Taking a hit from a weapon hurts like hell, but it's not likely to make them surrender. We kill the host body, the daemon wanders off to find someone else. Unfortunately, what that means is that if we have to use our weapons, we shoot to maim, injure, but not to kill."

She stamped her cigarette out on the floor of the porch, and picked up the bottle of rum that was on the small outside table, shoving it into the backpack on her shoulders.

"How about we get moving, though? I can explain more on the way."

Aalyssa shouldered her bow and shivered. At the moment she longed for a cloak but certainly that would get in the way of any fighting she might have to do. A demon should be easy to handle in comparison to her family. Aalyssa checked her supplies and slipped the bag over her other shoulder then added her quiver. "I am ready."

"So if weapons don't work, how do we capture, kill or disrupt these daemons then?" the sage asks as he shoulders his bag.

Joe spat, but he checked his guns one more time in a businesslike fashion. Shooting to maim always got messy in his book. But the lady knew this business better than he did.

"I'll try my best to wing them, ma'am," he said as he moved out with the others.

Meriwether noticing the beautiful woman shiver, said "Excuse me? Would you care to wear my frock coat. It shan't be too big upon you I imagine. Do not worry about me, I still have my waistcoat."

He then winked at Joe "See Joseph? Wing them it is!"

"Are you certain?" Aalyssa inquired. "I am still getting used to the coldness in the air here. My home is very warm."

Meriwether gave her a friendly smile "Most assuredly! I am a gentleman dear lady. I am also totally at your service."

He then gracefully took off the coat & held it out within reach.

Aalyssa accepted it and after a minute, she figured out to put it on. "Thank you, Lord Smythe," she said with a small smile. "It is most cozy."

"Just because they can't be killed doesn't mean that they don't feel pain." Amanda explained to Peter's question. "And the bodies they're in are still just human - which means if you take the legs out from under them, they can't go anywhere.

"It's a lot more about planning and preparation, cunning and intelligence, though, than simply force."

Peter spins to face the woman, a look  of irritation on his face "So, I repeat the question.  How to we kill, capture or dismiss these daemons?

You say it is all about planning.  How can we plan if we don't knopw what we are trying to achieve?  You surely aren't suggesting that we should subject the humans they possess to enough pain to hurt your daemons, but then not know what happens to the daemon?

At the moment you appear to be suggesting that we break the host's legs and then submit them to pain in the hope that the daemon won't like it.  If I am going to help you torture anybody, I need to know what the benefits and outcomes are.  I want to know that we are not just driving a daemon out into the aether so that it can possess again and I need to know know you intend to deal with the thing -  otherwise I am just gouing on a trip to torture some poor soul who probably has enough trouible in  their life anyway."

Hips lips are drawn into a thin line and his brows furrowed as he looks hard at the young woman.

"I don't know what sort of world you are from, nor what sort of person you are, but I am trying to give you the chance to show us that you do understand what you are trying to do.  Personally, I am not interested in  riding along unless I understand what I am getting into before I travel." The sage says speaking bluntly.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:41, Fri 13 Feb 2009.

     Surging forth through the Inn doors Quintus appears bearing a pitcher of wine, (fine Spanish wine of course) and an overflowing tray with steaming buttered rolls on it. "Compliments of the cook, she felt there was not enough bread with the meals and offers a peace offering to those whom she has affronted." A broad smile crosses the ex-soldier's face as he wafts the buttery warmth across the porch before setting the tray upon the table and sitting against the railing. He fills his cup from the pitcher, and sets the pitcher out for others as well, waving for them to partake at their desire.

     Finishing his drink, and wondering at the state of those out on the porch, Quintus heads back into the building. It was almost as if they were stuck in their respective times. Even the smoke from her Iho stick didn't drift away.

Heads inside leaving the tray of buttered rolls and pitcher of wine.

Peter shakes his head from side to side, as if to clear it,  and wonders what the hell is going on.  One minute he had been standing talking to Amanda and the others -   and the next thing he is aware of there is a tray of steaming bread rolls but Amanda has disappeared.  With a start his hands fly to his pouch to check its contents and then to his pack. Finding everything in order he looks around at the others, frowning.  "Are you OK?" What happened there?" he asks.

He reaches out to pick up one of the rolls and sniffs at it curiously.  It smells like bread, feels like bread and looks like bread.  'She couldn't have turned into a plate of bread, could she?' he half queries before shaking his head hard again  'Don't be stupid!'.

Peter takes a tentative bite from the bread roll ....
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:05, Wed 18 Feb 2009.

The large man in the sunglasses comes out to the front porch.  He stops for a second, looking at the individuals gathered.  He lifts his left hand up to his brow as if to tip an imaginary hat.  He then slowly walks off the porch and into the woods.  As he enters the woods, he breaks into a jog, moving swiftly down one of the paths.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:53, Fri 20 Feb 2009.

Peter turns as the inn door opens and then nods a quick greeting to the man is the suit as he pauses for a moment before heading off into the forests.

Once more he turns his attention to those around him who still seem to be under the spell that he was under earlier.  "Hello?  Anyone  home?" he asks reaching out to touch Aalyssa on the shoulder

Mason again approaches the porch, his manner remains supremely confident but his manner of dress is different. An unlit cigarette is in his mouth.  A long, brown duster is worn, the hilt of a Katana extends over his right shoulder and a satchel over his left.  He carries a large, solid duffel in his left hand.  There is a slight movement coming from inside the satchel.

Garrett nods to the approaching Samuraii his eyes still glowing faintly red.  Although he didn't much look like Hishiro he had the same stoicism which he rather liked.  He rather approved but he never could reach that Zen attitude toward the cosmos.  Action and reaction were things that mattered to him.

"Evening."

After passing he looses his blade and reloads his sidearm.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:05, Mon 23 Feb 2009.

Aramendell emerges from the tavern and immediately scans the edge of the forest. After a minute he spots a large fallen branch, recently lost by a Cherry tree.  He proceeds to retrieve the tree branch and bring it to a clearing outside the tavern. Pulling the knife from his ankle sheath he stabs the wood to judge how recently it has fallen.

"A little moist, must have fallen recent. That can be remedied."

The elf wanders over to the edge of the woods and gathers up some leaves, twigs and a few other chunks of wood, bringing all of them to his space in the clearing. With some flint and his knife he starts a small fire and begins striping the bark and twigs from the long branch. A tune begins to drift from his lips as he whistles with the strokes of his knife.