NO DOMINION

[LVL1337N00B]

From her place on the church floor, Rhi'Ihs got up onto her knees and looked toward the hole the bird monster fled through. She couldn't help staring momentarily, but was aware of the smaller groundborne speaking. She listened quietly, turning her head to face him at the mention of settlements disappearing. No struggle? There must have been some magic involved, that much was obvious to her. Magic could do anything, she thought, but were the people stolen or vaporised?

The aquatic warrior finally stood once Desken finished talking, glancing around the room at each of the others who had gathered in building. None of them had any particularly serious injuries, so far as she could tell, nothing debilitating. They were fine. She was still in perfect working order as well, though slightly disturbed by the way the creature's body had seemed to liquify before it flew away. She was also a bit annoyed that the beast was able to successfully escape, but the investigator made it sound like a good thing.

"At homes of missing people, did you find ashes?", Rhi asked, going back to her earlier thought as she approached the Exiled. She reached out and took one of the scrolls in the meantime, unravelling it and looking it over. Being unable to actually read the text, her examination didn't take long. She'd roll the paper back up and tuck it away under the wide red cloth that was tied around her waist, in place of a belt. Aside from that one question, Rhi'Ihs didn't really have anything else to ask, except maybe if she could be excused to go retrieve her weapon.. But that could wait for a moment.

 

[Firewombat]

Slicing through flesh, tendons and muscles in one, powerful blow - the beast's claw was crippled. Exactly as intended, though the thing was still massive enough that it could
sweep her aside. Olayne took the impact steadily, bringing her limbs close together to absorb the force. The blow landed, and she breathed out on the moment of impact, digging her heels in as she was thrown back. At this point, it was reflex - as her body twisted in the air and she let the momentum throw her back, rolling over her shoulder and easily getting back to her feet - stopping just before a pew. Seeing the others piling onto the creature she waited for an opening. stepping close to cover to avoid a repeat of the previous incident.

Soon enough, it was over. She extended her senses as the creature ascended - memorizing the air, the ''colour'' of its elusive aura. It still had a distinctness to it that couldn't be hidden. She could find it again, if need be. Still. They were all alive by her counting. All was well. The fireworks were still going off outside - people's eyes would be turned elsewhere. No one would be the wiser, that the stuff of nightmares walked among them.

And then the imperial agent started talking. His manner, mixed with his words were enough to make her jaw set. How very typical of one of his rank to speak with such condescension, with such booming arrogance. This investigation, this whole ''mission'' was already several steps toward failure. These other ones wouldn't presume to be grunts, especially the Ma'archy, perhaps even the giant with the halberd. If he was to lead, they would not follow. Neither would she, really. First impressions matter, they say, and Olayne was anything but impressed.

But this was important - more than her own plight, by the sound of it. And his particular wording, it was almost assured that the other immortals were moving against the High King. It didn't surprise her that they would all be above the plight of common lives. What did these flickering mayflies matter to beings of eternity, after all? A shame that they chose to waste their immortality so - having lost themselves to all that made them people. It was folly to think that apathetic Exis and his Rat King cared at all about the lives lost. But they felt threatened. And they felt desperate. There were too many here - some of them were bound to abuse the power of these writs.

Still with her jaw set, teeth gritted, Olayne sheathed her weapon and approached the man, silently taking one of the writs and taking a long moment to read through it. A few measured steps brought her close to the investigator's side.

''This is a gift intended for dead men walking.'' She mused, leveling an azure gaze at Desken, staring into his eyes with narrowed eyes. Murmuring so that only he would hear ''None are given the freedom to exercise themselves upon the kingdom's subjects -and- officials. Not for long. Not without a plan to be rid of them. So, tell me, Investigator - how are we to stop a threat that clearly has not one, but two immortals scared to the point of desperation?'' At that last word, she raised the writ, authorizing her to do whatever she pleased.

Strong words, but they wouldn't be the first to be spoken today. She let the writ slip from her fingers, and fall to the dusty ground. Olayne stood her ground, by comparison, her arms folding under her chest.

''If this is as serious as you say - then drop the act, and all pretence you've come here with. I'll not follow a fool that speaks boldly while hiding his fear. If I'd not stepped in when I did, if the others had not arrived soon enough - you would be a corpse. And this conspiracy would've died to the eyes of the world with you.'' She lowered her eyes toward the writs again, a frown gracing her features. ''These things are folly. Any one of these people here could just take them and leave - and by our great king's word they would be free to do so. Tell me this wasn't your idea.''

 

[Nemopedia]

Saree Nett ​

With shock Saree stared as the creature morphed itself, turning into a black liquid before building itself up again. The wounds remained, the beast was still in a weakened state, however, undeniably this would make it harder to hit it. Luckily it seemed to have solidified itself again just when the Ma'archy's arrow reached it. Though, it didn't plunge into the spot he had been aiming for, the weapon did its work sinking into its flesh. It was too unfortunate that it only raised the creature in anger. Preparing himself Saree reached out for another arrow, ready to give it another shot.

There was no need for it, it seemed. Soon the feathers, which Saree assumed had attacked them earlier outside the church, soared back towards the monster, a part of the ceiling falling down on top of it. Glancing over the back of his shoulder he saw Claudia with her hand raised. A great ravage was done and Saree was almost confident to claim that they had defeated the beast. However, not wanting to be too presumptuous he remained silent, staring at the pile of rumble, as if expecting it to emerge again.

Unfortunately he was right, black liquid emerged from the dirt again. This time it morphed itself into a crow attempting to fly off. Saree quickly stringed his bow again, but held off from firing. The creature was escaping and one arrow wouldn't do any harm. It was better not to waste it if this meant that the fight was over. From the corner of his eye he could see another man throwing a knife at it. Neither that had much effect, but at least he had contributed to the fight, so he mused.

The man earlier started to speak, the Ma'archy decided to hear the stranger out whilst he examined him. Grey skin and an arrogant look was found in his eyes. Saree could sense with how much pride this man carried himself, something that was also commonly found inside of the Ma'archy, something he and Claudia shared as well. Pride and arrogance, but also insultive as his words laced the servant with spite. He didn't like this ungrateful man one bit.

From the entire monologue Desken held, Saree took note of several details shared by him. The first being that the man was a thread user, one who assumed that they were such as well. The Ma'archy scoffed at the thought. Though he understood where this Arcane Investigator came from, as Thread magic was the most common form, it was belittling how little effort he had done to get to know the members of the Army of the Dead. Surely, they were volunteers, but didn't they deserve more recognition than the treatment received now?

However, pushing his cracked pride aside, Saree had questions for the man. Questions related to the story they had just been told, the mission they had been put out on. Though, before he could move, or ask, Olayne had beat him to it. The Ma'archy sighed deeply at himself as he listened to the woman speak. Speak of hypocrisy. The attitude that she was calling the other out for, Saree wondered if she realised that she was biting her own tail as well there. It was of no matter, none of that mattered, the servant wasn't there to argue.

"A suicide mission for the Army of the Dead, how ironic, or actually, fitting." The male stepped forward as he gave a look to Claudia, bowing his head a little, before returning to Desken. His voice was calm, aloof, like usually. However, there was also a hidden sneer inside of it, a sarcastic undertone that he learnt to fold neatly beneath a cool attitude.

"You don't look like someone part of a group nearly wiped out by an unknown force," Saree continued, his eyes setting a little in suspicion. "How are we sure of who you claim to be?" At least he could agree with Olayne on one thing. This was suspicious, to say the least.

"Besides of the questions around your person, what about this story of yours?" Saree continued, hands taking hold of one of the supposed Royal writs as he examined them. They looked pretty real to him, but that didn't ease his feelings at all. Fraud was a common occurrence and copying was a real art amongst these criminals. "How could you even dare to suggest, even if only by example, any of us killing one of the Immortals; our celebrated heroes of today's festival?" the man had a lot of questions, he wasn't finished yet. Not nearly.

Looking up from the parchment Saree's eyes narrowed again, as if trying to see whether the Arcane investigator was getting uncomfortable yet. Whether he would show signs of discomfort. "For someone supposedly high in power, seeing as you are the one tasked to deliver these writs to us from the High King, you know surprisingly little of us." The male rolled up the writ again, his head shifting a little to the side, again examining this Desken person. "We have no Thread users in this army," he said, stating the fact slowly as a reminder that no one would have been capable of the thing the man did earlier.

He would understand why a bunch of volunteers had no idea of who the Arcane Investigators were, or a bunch of other stuff. Why would one fill replaceable pawns in on any secret information anyway? They were volunteers, never formally trained, neither receiving any glory or pay for the work they did. The kingdom was dependent on their loyalty entirely. However, it bothered him that the High King supposedly saw it fit to task them with an important mission despite always keeping them in the shadows. Were they of this little worth in the eyes of the King? What about this man and his elusive group? This mission to him sounded like one only given to them out of convenience. One given because they couldn't afford any of their 'real' men to step forward, so they decided to sacrifice these who had volunteered their lives for them. The disposable ones. The group that had originally started out with the least bit of respect and freedom to choose. The one they assumed was worth, and would be missed, the least.​

 

[Grothnor]

Renvar timidly observed the fight from behind a pew, too scared to do anything but watch and complain to himself. Dammit, why am I even in this situation? I'm a doctor, not a battlemage! I've been training my whole life NOT to use my magic. I hope they can take care of it without me because I haven't killed anything larger than a rat before in my life. He poked his head above the pew he clumsily dove behind and observed the fight. At one point the monster looked him directly in the eyes and felt his stomach plummet in sheer terror as he began to. Rhi'ihs tackled the beast, breaking their gaze and Renvar's instinct to flee, if only for the moment. Renvar thought that she was insanely brave for attempting such an action, much less considering it. Either that, or just insane.

The creature went limp, too limp to be natural, and squeezed out of Rhi'ihs' arms. It took Renvar a moment to realize that it completely shifted forms. A shiftborne? So it could be intelligent. Renvar's already wide eyes widened even more at the realization. This may not be a random attack. The creature raised quills along it's body and Renvar could sense what was coming and ducked. The thud of projectiles slamming into wood never came, and Renvar looked up to see a large block of masonry and timber flattening the creature. He started poking his head up, hoping it might be over when the creature shrieked causing him to retreat behind his barricade as it oozed out from the rubble, reformed and fled.

It took Renvar a few more seconds to fully emerge after that, but he did, shaking faintly from leftover adrenaline. Renvar furrowed his brow in annoyance at Desken's insinuation of cowardice. He wanted to defend himself from the criticism, but was still too dazed by the spontaneous adrenaline boost he was coming down from. He awkwardly went over to Rhi'ihs and thanked her. "You, um, I think you may have saved my life back there. Well, you all did but, umm... it looked at me and I thought... well, thanks."

Desken began outlining the job and Renvar immediately started getting the feeling it was way out of his pay grade, especially when he mentioned killing Immortals. The amount of power these writs grant is staggering. I understand desperate time calls for desperate measures, but to hear that they're this bad to potentially warrant war between the Immortals is unthinkable. The comments of the other Army members confirmed his suspicion that the situation was a dire one, though it surely wasn't a suicide mission, was it? He approached and took a writ, reading it briefly while holding it above his head, even though there was no light to illuminate his reading, then asked his questions. "Do you have any suspicion as to who is responsible? I'll take spit-balled ideas and guesses because I haven't the faintest what could do this beyond mass-mind control. Also, as for that creature, do you know what exactly it is, and if so, could you provide any kind of records on it? I must admit, of the four species, Shiftborne are the least documented."

 

[Drone]

Vando watched as everything came to a sudden end and the beast had been slain. Or so he and the others had thought, he watched with narrowed eyes as it seeped through the cracks of the rubble, quickly shifted and flew away, not before a small knife was planted in it by the mysterious man. Vando sensed the magic tethered to the knife, he wasn't sure of it's purpose but he had a few guesses, the man spoke quickly after that almost as thought nothing had happened and began offering up writs that supposedly allowed for anything to be done with them. With little hesitation Vando took one and uttered a surprisingly earnest 'thanks' before stepping back.

The woman wielding the blade spoke fiercely and brought up more questions than Vando had considered, and young man with a bow followed suit. They brought up good points to which Vando agreed more or less, however he was curious as to what was happening with these settlements, the story reeked of magic, the bad kind of magic. Magic that Vando had been trained to wage war against his entire life, that alone was enough to sway him, he clutched his writ where the woman with the sword dropped hers, this parchment was much to valuable to him.

Vando had little to say at this point, he wasn't feeling particularly argumentative at the moment, and most of his own questions had been asked. He swiped the blood from the side of his eyebrow, it still flowed freely but it wasn't a serious wound, the same was true for his shoulder but it produced much more blood, which had soaked a portion of his clothing under his armor. He sighed and shook his head in silent anger, it would be easily replaced with the 'power' of the writ however. Vando recalled something the young man with the bow had said earlier about thread magic and suddenly the knife the man threw made sense to him. "Where is it headed?" He finally spoke up looking at Desken assuming he would know what he was referring to.

 

[Jakers]

"Goodbye..." Was the whisper that came from under Lakkta's mask when the creature decided to fire its quills.

In a spark of energy coming from her tattoed hand, Lakkta firmly crunched the hand into a fist, and the quills of the creature whizzed right back into it - just as she'd hoped. This way, everyone could avoid further injury, and the creature would hopefully be dead. So many people had turned up and rushed to do their own thing, that this creature never would've stood a chance - but Lakkta supposed the teamwork of this group was still... something to be worked on?

Whatever doubts Lakkta had about the creature still being able to fight were put to rest by rubble, levitating, before smashing onto the creature with considerable force. She cocked her head slightly. Another Core user...? Hmm......

Needless to say, it was over. At least, Lakkta thought it was, until the creature shifted form into one that could fly.

Lakkta slowly placed the glove back onto her tattooed hand, watching through the unblinking eyes of her masks as the creature flew away. If the throwing medium had stayed on the creature when it shifted forms, she could've altered its course somewhat... but alas... it was not to be. When it turned it to liquid, the throwing medium had clattered onto the floor where the creature's offensive form used to be.

Lakkta would've also hurled a storm of blades at the creature as it flew away if it weren't for the projectiles lodged in her right forearm. The pain would distract her, and her accuracy would drop, making her potentially lose one of her precious throwing weapons. The quills had to go. Sighing, Lakkta firmly took a hand around the quill in her leg, and yanked abruptly.

"M-mmph-!" - A muffled whimper came from under the mask, before she threw the bloody quill onto the floor. She repeated the process with the two quills in her forearm, leaving three blood-dribbling holes where the projectiles had hit her, and a sick feeling to her stomach. Lakkta's tolerance of pain wasn't high in any way, and she winced at the burning sensations.

A doctor was what she needed. But for now, the best she could do was cut three small strips of black cloth from her cloak, and carefully wrap them around her wounds. It would stop the bleeding, at least, but that was about it. She would need to make an effort to find some sort of healer at some point... but for now, it looked like the pale man who'd been behind the podium of the church had something to say.

~ ~ ~

When the man described them all as 'unprepared children', Lakkta hung her head a little in shame. She wasn't angry at the man for calling them this - because he was right. Lakkta knew she could've done better, and maybe could've kept everyone completely unharmed if she played her cards right. He was right, even if some of the others seemed annoyed at being reprimanded by the stranger.

Walking with a slight limp as she sat on one of the many pews scattered on the Church floor as commanded, Lakkta listened to the man - Desken - carefully. He was the one who'd be leading them, or at least that was what Lakkta assumed.

So... people and animals in settlements... disappearing, without a trace? Was there an explanation for that? If the food was 'still warm on the table', that meant that people just... went. No blood. No remenants. Or, at least, that was how Lakkta pictured it. ...It was... scary, to think that someone with that power... could be watching them? Or maybe there was a more logical solution? Either way, Lakkta lacked the intelligence to make much sense out of the scenario - and she looked at the floor in confusion for a moment, before looking up again at the mention of the 'Royal Writs.'

The power to do 'anything'...? Lakkta got up from her seat, limped over to Desken, and paused as her hand hovered over one of the Royal Writs.

...Lakkta wasn't sure what she'd want to do with the power to do 'anything'. Maybe she could clear her name, somehow? No... that would be a stupid and selfish usage. But such a power... it was something that would come in handy at some point, but for now, Lakkta kept it firmly inside of her coat.

She didn't have much of a question - apart from 'where is the nearest healer'? But saying that out loud would make her seem silly... and she really didn't want to talk, anyway... not while the place was so quiet. There was one thing she was curious about - and that was where the beast was actually going - but that question had already been asked by the somewhat scary-looking man with the bow. Even if she had something to ask, Desken was probably already agitated by having to ask so many questions as it was.

Some people were getting annoyed by Desken rather than actually asking him questions. Lakkta didn't really understand why that was... but it would only stir up trouble. Lakkta just wanted to move to the next destination, and do her thing. Like she always had.

Whilst she waited for everyone's questions to be answered, Lakkta slowly drifted around the Church, occasionally picking back up a throwing mediums she'd used in the battle and pocketing it for later use. As she listened, Lakkta was starting to get an idea about everyone's personalities... and it was an interesting set of people indeed...

 

[Sailor Arti]

[glow=red]♣ Location || Church of the Old gods ♣[/glow]

Her brown eyes shifted when she noticed movement in her peripheral vision. The creature had released a massive amount of it's quills, finally fed up with how it was on a losing streak. It seemed ready to take out everyone with it. Claudia licked her lips. It wasn't time yet. She had to time this perfectly. Suddenly the quills shot back into the bird and Claudia's eyes widened. There was another core magic user beside her. Another cursed with the power she had. So it wasn't just her. Then again, she knew she couldn't have been the only one. She hoped she wasn't the only one. It's just that finally knowing she wasn't the only one with this destructive power made her feel a little better. But now wasn't the time for that. Her opportunity had come to end the creature for good. Snapping her eyes back to the weakened spot of the church, she clasped her hand into a fist. Her eyes glowing an amber color for just a moment before she slammed the rubble into where the bird was."Yes!" She said to herself, proud that what she had done had the desired effect. Dust and the wind blew around them all due to the impact of the debris. Claudia just stood there, in silence hoping that the deed was done and that damned creature was dead.

But it seemed she wouldn't get her prayers answered today...

The black liquid seeped out from beneath the cracks of rubble as the creature morphed into a crow. Claudia flipped her sword in her hand before raising it front of her face. Ready to attack should she need to but there was no point. The bird was retreating and they needn't chase after it right now. If fate would have it they would see each other again. Just as she was thinking that, there was a man who threw a knife at the bird, so much good that did though. The bird still escaped. Suddenly Claudia felt a cool sweat form on her skin. Suddenly she was aware of how chilly it had gotten. It was almost like she was showing the signs of coming down with a cold. This happened sometimes when she used her magic. It wasn't anything she wasn't used to though. It didn't happen all the time, but when it did it would only be a little while till her body went back to feeling normal. It was almost as if her body was trying to reject the magic like it would reject the germs if one had a cold.

The man started speaking and Claudia decided to take a seat in a pew after sheathing her sword again. Holding her head in her hands, she focused on breathing in and out, while she sort of listened to what the guy had to say. The things this man had to say though, didn't make Claudia feel better. In fact, she could already tell that she wouldn't like him. While she sat she glared at the man as he spoke with an arrogant, better than thou, annoying tone to his voice. It was one thing for Ma'archy alike to act like this, but for an outsider, it was, at least to Claudia, unacceptable. It was only natural for the best to act like they were the best. Anyone else doing so would just be embarrassing themselves. To Claudia, the Ma'archy were the best, but she seemed to run into many who thought otherwise, already putting them at odds with her. "What an ungrateful brat" Claudia muttered to no one in particular as she continued to listen to this Arcane Investigator drone on.

Olayne spoke up, attacking the Investigator verbally, calling him out one could say. Claudia couldn't help but snicker a bit to herself. It was useless arguing with someone like this. They wouldn't change just because someone called them out. If anything, it would just put them on the defensive. Claudia knew what Olayne was trying to do but it didn't help her case. Olayne was just wasting her breath because the things she was calling the Investigator out for were things she was guilty of doing as well. Which is why Claudia had remained seated, not saying a thing against this man because she acted just like him. Now the both of them looked like fools. Shaking her head she turned her head to Saree who spoke up next.

"A suicide mission for the Army of the Dead, how ironic, or actually, fitting." Saree then turned to her bowing his head to her before turning his attention back to the man. "You don't look like someone part of a group nearly wiped out by an unknown force," Taking one of the supposed Royal Writs from the man, "How are we sure of who you claim to be?" Good question. Claudia nodded, eyes narrowing at the man. Now that Saree mentioned it he did seem suspicious. "Besides of the questions around your person, what about this story of yours? How could you even dare to suggest, even if only by example, any of us killing one of the Immortals; our celebrated heroes of today's festival?" Claudia nodded. This is why she left the asking of questions to Saree. He always did a fabulous job of finding loopholes and things of the like. Besides, how were they supposed to kill an immortal anyway? "For someone supposedly high in power, seeing as you are the one tasked to deliver these writs to us from the High King, you know surprisingly little of us." With that, Claudia got up from the pew and began walking over to where Saree and Desken were. "We have no Thread users in this army,"

Claudia reached forward taking a writ for herself and shrugged, "Maybe we should've let him handle the creature on his own then? Ah well, then he wouldn't be our damsel in distress now would he?" Her tone was light yet condescending as well. "And if it turns up he's not who he says he is, we can always kill him. We do have these now." She says tossing the royal writ in the air and catching it again. As she said what she said she smiled at Desken before laughing. Well, it was all jokes. Sort of, if it was true that this guy proved to be a threat to her and Saree and the others she would have no problem aiming to dispose of him. Whether she'd be able to would be a good question though. She didn't know his skill after all. But she needn't worry about that now.

Claudia smacked Saree in the back a playful grin on her lips. "You're totally gonna have all the ladies coming after you with that look Saree. You gonna make icing in the hair a new fashion trend or something?" She snicked at him. She was just teasing him that's all. The icing was there from her own doing after all from when she threw on of her pastries at him earlier. Claudia then caught sight of Lakkta with a little pool of blood around her on the floor. They looked like she was hurt pretty bad and needed some attention. Who was the best healer she knew? Why Saree of course. In one fluid movement, she kicked or rather kneed Saree in the back hard. "Don't you see that people are hurt?" she said pointing in Lakkta's direction, "Go fulfill your role already peasant. Don't make me repeat myself." ​

 

[Zombehs]

A flash of irritation raced through Toran's mind as he shifted the polearm to carve deep into the vulnerable beast. Yet mid-air and mid-lunge it still somehow managed to twist aside and avoid the blow. His right hand left the pole to grab at the claw that hadn't yet found purchase on his shoulder, but the creature was forced to give up its attempt first. His body rocked backwards as the monster was forced off by an arrow. Rhi'Ihs had rushed straight for the creature and actually grappled it, crazy girl, and left Toran in a position to do little.

Not that it mattered since the beast's skin rippled like water before it fell out of the Brokenborne's grasp. His eyes narrowed as the beast reformed quickly, and grinned as another two projectiles pierced its flesh. Alarmed when its quills sprouted and raised again, Toran reached for one of the church doors. Wood cracked in his grasp as he prepared to rip the piece from its rusty and aged hinges, but that proved unnecessary. He could feel the surge from two of the individual's present, the area twisting around the creature as their magic took effect.

No longer crushing the wood in his grasp, the hand came up to shield his eyes from the rush of dust caused by the ceiling's collapse. Before the debris had finished clattering, a harsh screech filled the church and brought a frown to Toran's face. A strong gust of wind cleared any lingering dust as the beast flapped the wings of its new form and took off through the newly created hole in the ceiling. He watched its path of escape for a few moments before clicking his tongue in annoyance.

---

The man who began to speak didn't warrant much of Toran's attention as he walked over to reclaim the thrown sheath. Slipping the covering back on over the polearm's blade, he found a pillar and promptly leaned against it. The pews obviously hadn't been designed for someone of his size and with their age and the recent battle? Well, he'd probably save himeslf some embarrassment and annoyance.

A raised eyebrow was about on par for Toran's reaction when the man finished and the others voiced their questions and doubts. Not that he didn't have his own since the man, no wait Desken, wasn't very clear on exactly what the Royal Writs apparently allowed. Was it anything within reason, or anything? He tilted his head side to side a few times in consideration and came to the conclusion that he was ultimately splitting furs, that was the correct phrase? Each scroll came with plenty of authority was the important piece, and was ultimately something of limited use for him. The only real uses he would find of such a document would be to enforce the will of another Writ-carrier; he had enough self-awareness to figure that any uses he came up for such a powerful document would likely be bad…

The butt of his polearm thumped lightly against the floor of the church as he eyed the swordswoman. "They can feel free to try. I'll be sure to take care of any traitors." His posture remained lax and he didn't move from his position, but his weapon was deftly spun with one hand.

 

[SanguineCetus]

Keren watched most of the fight beside the man, ready to step in at any moment should one of their allies fall. Luckily, no one was badly injured but the minor scrapes, wounds and bruises could easily be soothed by a healing poultice they always had on hand. However, they did notice someone pulling the quills out of their arm. They moved to at least go inspect the damage, if not actually heal the wounds, when the man, Desken, began speaking.

Keren didn't like the man, not when he accused Keren of something as cowardly as hiding. How did he know anything when he had his face buried in whatever he was doing over by the podium? Keren just snorted at the man's attitude towards their supposed "hiding", but didn't say anything. Oh no, they couldn't interrupt the roll the man seemed to be on. Although there was a grain of truth there. They didn't do anything to the monster, just let the others handle it. Sure, they did alright and no one's dying but could the injuries could've been lessened had they actually tried to fight? Or would they have just been in the way? Fighting in large groups with their weapon was always a hazard...

Shaking off the thoughts, they just listened, thoughtfully. The mission seemed impossible, especially if the other Immortals are to blame. And the Writs seemed to be overkill unless it is them. Lies through omission, the worst kind. However, their allies seemed to also catch onto this. The Army maybe a bunch of volunteers but they weren't stupid. As they gave the man a counter argument, Keren went about to finally making sure that the masked individual was okay. After grabbing one of those Writs, of course.

Walking over, they approached them confidently, ax in hand. They gave a slight frown at the harried job that was done. Leaving it like that would most certainly get the wounds infected. "My name is Keren and I am a healer of sorts. You were injured, yes?" They asked, holding out a hand. "May I take a look?"

 

[LVL1337N00B]

Renvar's thanks were nice. Uneccesary, but nice. Rhi'Ihs had done no more than any of the Dead Army's other fighters, she knew that, but being thanked personally still filled her with pride. A little half smile crept across her face, but she turned away to hide it and shook her head. "I did nothing. Beast got away too easy, very slippery", she told him, its evasive technique still fresh in mind, "If it wanted, would have killed anyway." Probably not the most comforting thought, but likely true. Yes, the others had damaged the monster to some extent, but Rhi saw it's capabilities and saw a probability for casualty. The reason why was beyond her, but she had no doubt that it had gone easy on them.

She nodded back to the flesh mage, then moved to take a place at Toran's side. "Treachery", she sounded to have some slight difficulty with the word, "Will be punished. We see to this." Though perhaps not fully grasping the situation at hand, that much she understood perfectly. She'd made her place in the army and sworn her service to it and the god-king of the surface world, she would ensure disloyalty to them was not left unpunished. From there forward Rhi'Ihs would be silent, watching and listening to the others. She wasn't much of a conversationalist after all, despite some efforts to be more sociable. She realized it wasn't something that would come to her quickly, having spent the better part of her life among a tribe of people who valued action much more greatly than words.

 

[Jakers]

Lakkta's eyes winced a little inside their mask. A lot of people were talking at once... some issuing threats, warnings, and the glares Desken was receiving made her feel a little empty inside. Was he here to help, or not? Was he a traitor, or an ally? The way some of the bigger, muscly members were brandishing their weapons and saying phrases in a threatening manner made Lakkta feel even more insecure. It felt like some people were trying to spread their feathers and show their presence to the group... rather than actually making an attempt to get along with each other.

Lakkta noticed someone was pointing at her. A young girl - likely highborne - with beauty some would likely kill for. She was commanding her friend to come and heal her, in the form of harsh words and a sharp kick. ...Oh dear... had Lakkta made that white-haired boy get hurt? She felt bad now. Lakkta lightly shook her head in the general direction of the handsome man and beautiful girl as if to say, 'No... it's okay.'

The two seemed close. ...Ha. It must've felt wonderful to have someone that was always by your side. Perhaps they were in love, too... or perhaps they were brother and sister. Something about them just made things seem like they belonged together, and Lakkta didn't feel like she didn't want to get in the way of the two at all - especially over some silly injuries. Besides, she didn't want the male with snow-white braids to come and healer her whilst he was in the middle of questioning Desken. Lakkta wished he wouldn't, but... he at least needed to know the answers for it.

Lakkta's thoughts drifted away as another member approached her. Unsure at first, Lakkta slowly looked at the ax-wielding indivual, and cocked her head slightly. It was impossible to tell whether this one was a male or female... and they seemed to be a unique race Lakkta hadn't seen before, possessing several cow-like features, such as fuzzy ears, and a pair of curled horns. Keran was their name, and they extended their hand to Lakkta and even offered to heal her... their presence seemed... comforting...

Keran extended their hand - and for a while - Lakkta wasn't sure what to do with it. After a long moment of quiet and barely any movement, Lakkta extended her gloved hand, and gently shook Keran's with a very light grip. They asked if they could have a look, to which Lakkta gave the gentlest of nods. Slowly unwrapping the crude bandages around their arm and legs, Lakkta presented the bleeding puncture wounds to Keran, watching them curiously through the bright eyes of her mask.

"...Thanks..."

 

[Nemopedia]

Saree Nett ​

A few more questions were asked by the members of the army. All of them in line with their mission and the vagueness of it. It annoyed Saree how little information there was to work with. Sent off into a mad dash without a purpose it felt, but the Ma'archy knew better than to voice out that opinion. It would surely be poorly received, for the purpose was very clear; protect the people. However, to the healer this noble purpose was way beneath him. Another unpopular opinion with the mass.

"Maybe we should've let him handle the creature on his own then? Ah well, then he wouldn't be our damsel in distress now would he?"

Claudia came closer as she spoke, a playful and arrogant tone playing in her voice. To Saree it sounded normal, fitting to any Ma'archy with the least bit of self-respect, but to any other it sounded cocky. At least the servant didn't have to worry that anyone would forget about the general reputation and prejudices that the Ma'archy have and carry. His mistress would definitely make sure to remind everyone from time to time.

"You aren't even sure if these writs are—" just as the man was about to mention the possibility of counterfeits he got smacked roughly in the back, cut off, as per usual, by his mistress. Giving her an unimpressed look the male sighed deeply at himself. How did he manage to stick around this woman again? Saree was pretty sure by now that her fists must have broken something inside of him, to worry over such an unruly lady.

And to confirm his earlier thoughts the female continued to abuse him, kneeing him in the back as she jabbed him to work. Falling over the male's eyes widened as he caught himself with his hands, grunting a little as he wondered if he was looking after a grown woman or an overly excitable kid. Though, Claudia probably had more traits of the latter than the first.

"Yes, yes, mistress, I'm on it. Don't kick me again, otherwise I will see myself forced to waste all of my energy on myself," he sighed, crawling up and dusted himself off. It was amazing how unfazed Saree was by the whole behaviour of the mistress. Surprising, but also disturbing, for it meant that he had been sticking around her and tolerating the abuse for much longer than he had needed to.

What did he get paid again? The male shook his head as he knew very well it wasn't about the pay that he did this for. He had very clearly chosen for this himself, despite the many other offers he had received from the Cardinale family. He had definitely chosen this path for himself, which he at the moment regretted. Stretching himself a little he just hoped that he hadn't sprained a muscle in his back with the way Claudia had landed that kick on him.

However, it seemed that the one his mistress had told him to heal was already attended to. Smiling a little the male was about to turn around in triumph, wanting to say that there was nothing left to do anymore, until he realised that there were more wounded. As to be expected after a fight. Still, now he couldn't excuse himself. Unfortunately he wasn't that luck as he now had to help these… these… commoners.

"Oh well, anyone in need of a check-up? I'm quite the capable healer myself," the man offered. He could see who was wounded and who not, however, he rather had them approach him themselves instead of the other way around. Though he was forced to lend his services for now the male wasn't about to do so without another thought of word.​

 

[Sailor Arti]

[glow=red]♣ Location || Church of the Old gods ♣[/glow]

Claudia's brown eyes shifted towards the ground where Saree had fallen after she had kicked him. She couldn't help the smug grin that formed on her lips. She loved teasing Saree even though he probably hated the way she did so. Whatever, she didn't care, she had been doing this for years and years on end. She was sure by now Saree had built up somewhat of an endurance to her. "Yes, yes, mistress, I'm on it. Don't kick me again, otherwise, I will see myself forced to waste all of my energy on myself," Claudia snorted before crossing her arms over her chest, "If you were stronger you wouldn't have to worry about that. Besides, that was a baby tap Saree. Made out of love," The cocky tone in her voice and the shine in her eyes were sure signs of how much she enjoyed messing with her servant.

Once Saree was finally up on his feet and stable again, Claudia turned her eyes to Lakatta who was....receiving medical treatment from someone else now? Claudia's eyes narrowed at the sight. Sure she was happy Lakatta was finally getting some treatment but damn, Claudia wanted to be able to brag that it was her Saree that did it not some other guy. On the other hand, Saree seemed to be quite pleased with the outcome of his services being needed anymore. His smugness and evident enjoyment out of the turn of events irked Claudia. It was almost like he was mocking her, and Claudia was the only one allowed to do the mocking in this relationship of theirs. "Oh well, anyone in need of a check-up? I'm quite the capable healer myself," Claudia glanced around the room nodding, there were a number of people that needed medical attention. She knew how good of a healer her Saree was. So maybe not all hope was lost, maybe she could still casually rub it in everyone's faces if he ever moved.

Claudia stood there watching him for a good few minutes, each second ticking by the more irritated Claudia found herself before she just was fed up with him. Her grip on her royal writ tightened as she closed the gap between her and Saree and she slammed the thing down on his head, slapping him with it essentially. "What the hell do you think you're doing just standing there? You have eyes don't you? You're capable of seeing. Do I have to spell it out for you to understand? I thought you were smarter than that Saree. Go over there to them and do what you're good at!" She growled pointing in the direction of the injured before giving him another good slap with the writ in the back of his head. "And that's for earlier. You could've gotten to Lakatta before that other healer did. See, this is why you'll never have a wife. Your damsel in distress will dead before you ever reach her because you seem to enjoy taking your sweet time!" Claudia placed her hands on her hips shaking her head at him, "Well, get on with it. We don't have all day."

Claudia was aware that Saree, like many of the Ma'archy race, weren't as quick to help others as she was. She knew that was another thing that made her the defective Ma'archy she was but she couldn't help it. When she saw people in need she just had to do something and if that meant kicking Saree's ass so that he could get it done then she would do it. Of course, she wouldn't say that out loud or anything like that. That would just bring to light Claudia's insecurities about herself which she didn't want anyone knowing about. Claudia portrayed herself as a strong and independent woman for a reason. Letting anything other than that show would be weakness and do more harm to her pride, which the Ma'archy are known for. ​