The Legend of Renalta (IC)

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A Wind Through the Mountain
Collab ft Windy & Rahim (@LimeyPanda )



After the introductions were made, Windy Goldfingers kept her warm and cheeky smile on, even though she was exhausted by the trip. She had travelled a lot in the past days, after she had received the notice that she would be joining this band of misfits. Looking at them now, she couldn’t help but wonder how all those people had come together. Humans, elves, an orc, a tiefling, a vampire, a spirit, a sort-of brutish huge man… She had come across many different races in her travels, had met strict humans from Rheinfield, elves and lizardfolk from the Free Holds, and even more creatures hiding in tiny villages and in the woods. She never, however, met any human with blue hair. The small woman observed the living legendary princess, Kouri, and in her heart she knew she was in the right place.

The gnome’s bright eyes drifted from the blue-haired lass to the huge man. He was so incredibly tall, almost as tall as the orc Grothnor. Almost carried by the breeze, Windy trotted towards him, her messy orange hair falling back as she looked up at him. She was barely above his waist!

“Allo mistah, this one is Windy as you heard. My oh my, I don’t believe Windy has met anothah one like you! Heard some sing about tall people like you, hiding in forests! You, mistah, have made this bard curious!” Windy chirped playfully, watchful of the man’s reaction to her words.

While Rahim watched over the various people who made up the new entourage, and finished talking with whichever previously known member of Kouri’s allies had caught his attention, Rahim had failed to notice the approach of the Half-Gnome woman. When she broke her silence to introduce herself, he flinched for a moment; looking down and grasping his axe with the sudden instinct to strike…before he spotted just who the Orange-haired ‘assailant’ was. He instantly relaxed, clutching a hand over his heart. “You scared me, small one. I did not hear your approach.” He said, chuckling under his breath. When she mentioned the tall people in the forests, his smile seemed to turn a bit dourer, as his eyebrow rose slightly. “If I were you, I would avoid that forest. I am the least terrifying creature you might find in Katafýgio.

After a silent moment, he reached down with his spare hand; offering it to the woman to shake. "I am Rahim, by the way. It is a pleasure."

Seeing the huge man jump in surprise made Windy giggle loudly. Even her laugh was somewhat melodic and light. She wiped a few tears off her cheeks and reached for Rahim's hand with both of hers.

"Mistah Raaaahim! Nice name for ya, RAAAWWRR like a giant man, like a mountain of muscle and punchin'!" Windy giggles again and shakes his hand happily, her smile so wide it makes her eyes squint. "Do not worry Rahim, this one does not have plans to wandah away from Kouri the princess. Those forests are not as interestin' right now."

The gnome turns around and looks at Kouri again. Humans are so fragile, she is so young!

"Does Rahim know if the princess is strong? Humans are weak, Rahim. Legends are powahful and this one plans on living very very long, and sing for the princess's court!" The little woman turns back to the Amazonian, her face still smiling but her eyes slightly darker and serious. "Let this one play music to calm the angry hearts, ya?"

Rahim looked at the Half-Gnome with a stare that made it obvious that she was a profoundly confusing creature, in his eyes. Truth be told; he could barely keep up with the woman's energetic way of speaking. She spoke so rapidly, and about things that hardly seemed to matter. Despite all that, she was at least interesting company. He was not used to seeing anyone quite so…animated.

When Windy asked about the Princess’ strength, he frowned. Truth be told, he didn’t have a decent answer for her. He had seen the woman perform an incredible magical feat at the lake, and she had been proven legitimate by the ritual; which made her over one-thousand years old. And yet…

She has survived more than most of us could hope to know, and she has done so without compromising her beliefs. There is strength in that.” He said, leaning on his axe with his spare hand as he briefly glanced towards the Princess, thinking about their most recent conversation. He had seen the woman at a point of incredible fragility, and it would be easy to have pointed that out; but he could not bring himself to besmirch the name of his Clan’s head.

After a sombre moment of quiet, Rahim turned to face Windy again, offering a forced smile. "Music will do many here good. I fear it is not the angry hearts who will need you most though."

"Hmm yes, Windy agrees with ya, Raaawrrhim. There is strength in the mind and in the heart!"

The gnome unceremoniously leans against the man's leg, like one would lean against a tree, and crosses her arms.

"So, mistah, tell this one about the rest of ya clan. Who's the leadah? Who's the strongest? Windy sees a lot of mages and magic wieldahs."

Rahim paused to ponder Windy’s question. It was not like the clan had ever truly established any sort of rigid hierarchy. Back in his birthplace, there would be a definite leader; and a definite strongest. Here though? Too many questions left unanswered to make a truly accurate judgement. “Apart from Kouri herself, no one is truly a leader. She ultimately has the final say on decisions, but she seems to value good council more than her own opinion. In a one-on-one battle, Hanus would likely kill everyone here in a blink of an eye, with exceptions being a couple of the mages…Hanus is the tall dark-skinned one.” Taking a moment, he pointed out Hanus in the crowd, standing near Kouri as he was. “Tactically, Marcus is likely the most accomplished among us, and he is no slouch in battle. I don’t know much about magic, but James seems the most talented with it.” Again, he takes a moment upon mentioning each name to put a face along with it. “And other than that, everyone has a varying set of skills.

After a moment of pause, Rahim then turned to the Gnome, looking down - in a literal sense - at her. "What about you? What can you do, other than play your songs?"
Windy listens carefully to Rahim's every word. Marcus, James, Hanus. She would avoid talking to those three for the time being -- she wants to know more about the side ranks, those left behind, the ones who seemed inapproachable. The three men seemed to be the best suited to lead the group along with Kouri.

"This one says thanks, mistah."

The gnome thinks for a minute or two about Rahim's question. She wanted to be honest, but wasn't ready to show him all her tricks.

"Ahh, Windy knows how to fight like a pirate! This beauty here..." She shows him her scimitar, "... was given to me be a real good friend. This one's friend is long gone now, but Windy treasures her memory." The small woman's voice went slightly off her previous accent and was definitely less chirpy. She looks up at Rahim and winks.

"Windy's songs are more than just songs, mistah Raaawrhim. They fill the heart with courage and carries them along."

As to prove her statement, Windy's fingers caress the strings of her lyre. She doesn't use magic with her words, as she is already rather tired.

"Leaves under his feet, Burning the forest in his stride, Flames choke the pride, Before he reaches the crown."

Windy gives a playful bow, and sticks her tongue out cheekily. "Maybe anothah day, mistah will see what Windy means."

Rahim's eyebrow rose slightly as she mentioned her apparent skill with a cutlass. The weapon did not seem like the sort that would do well against armoured opponents...Like Rheinfelders. Her mention of her songs was another curiosity, and Rahim soon found himself wondering just what it was that the small Gnome was hiding. "...You are an interesting one, Windy. Stay close to me, and I will try and keep you alive in battle."

"Windy looks forward to this, mistah."

The gnome smiles warmly at the giant of a man, and gives him a friendly tap on the arm before hopping away. Now that she had a better idea of whom her comrades were, she definitely wanted to get to know them better.



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A Wind Over Time
Collab ft Windy & Kasienka (@Seba)


She was still a little woozy from what she had helped Hanus with, and she was trying to amble over to Kouri when she almost tripped over the little halflings that had just arrived. Kasienka steadied herself, then slooowly lowered herself down to her knees so she was closer to eye-level with the bard. "I don't mean to demean you, but my head is still foggy and I need a moment." She paused before smiling more warmly at Windy than she had before. "It's a pleasure to meet you, dear Windy. I am Kasienka."

The gnome chuckles as the elf almost trips over her. She had just left Rahim's side to meet up with the others, and hadn't been paying attention to where she was going in all her excitement.

"Oohh la la miss! This one is sorry for being a little one!" As the elf lowers herself to meet her eye, Windy grins and flicks the taller woman's nose. "Kaaaasienka! Pretty name for an old one like ya, Windy likes it!"

Without waiting for her answer, Windy leans in closer to her, "Miss Kaaa, ya look pretty pale, ya should eat somethin'. Wouldn't want ya to fall, fa real this time." Reaching in her backpack, Windy takes out a small red apple and hands it to Kasienka.

Kasienka blinked a few times at having her nose flicked, and looked at Windy with a faint blush on her cheekbones. She shook her head slowly, smiling tiredly at the little one, as she called herself.

"Thank you, Windy, but I do not need your food. I have my own, and if I was to run out before we leave I'm sure Kiune would feed us further." She reached into her own messenger bag, pulling out a dried flat bread. It wasn't much, but it was something. Cracking off a piece she ate it, then offered some to Windy.

"Miss Kaaa is an interestin' one, refusin' Windy's apple and yet offahin' a piece of hah (her) bread! This one thinks Miss Kaaa cares for othahs but does not want othahs to worry 'bout hah!"

Windy takes a large bite from her apple, and ignores the piece of bread offered. The gnome doesn't take her eyes off the elf as a bit of sadness creeps in. She had not met a young elf in her travels, and rumours had it they were cursed.

"Is the bloodsuckah ya lovah? This one is so curious 'bout everyone in Raaawrhim's clan!"

Kasienka chuckled softly as Windy spoke, snapping off more of her bread before putting the rest of it in her bag. She nodded to her question, moving to sit instead of continuing to kneel.

"Hanus the vampire is my partner, yes. As for ah... Raaawrhim? If you should mean Rahim, I suppose we are apart of his clan. I prefer to think of us as Princess Kouri's party for the time being. My partner has pledged himself to be her first knight."

Windy nods to Kasienka's words, her eyes finally leaving the elf's face to catch a look of Hanus. She definitely wanted to know about him, considering he had met another gnome before.

"Yes, yes. The princess Kouri. A vampire as a first knight? This is interestin'! This one wonders what a pledge from one who does not die means. That will make for a very good story!"

At least the knight will outlive the princess, Windy remarks.

She reaches out and ruffles Kasienka's hair gently, and as she finishes her apple, the bard brings her lyre closer and whispers softly as she strokes the used strings,

"Undying love for a dying race, Some say the heart knows not disgrace, Faithful to the crown and love, War does not protect doves..."

On her last note, Windy smiles and bows playfully at the elf.

Kasienka politely clapped for Windy, giggling at having a personal performance. She was flushed at the mention of undying love, but was happy as she was. The elf reached up to try and fix her hair, smiling at the gnome.

"That was absolutely lovely, dear. Thank you." She lifted her head to look past the woman towards the princess, still feeling a need to reach out to her before they departed the grove. "Where do you come from to develop such a manner of speaking?"

Windy runs a hand through her own hair, her orange mess ruffling on her shoulders. She thought for a few seconds before answering in a low voice to Kasienka.

"J'ai voyagé à plusieurs endroits, Kasienka."(I have traveled to many places) The gnome brings a finger to her lips, silently asking the elf to keep quiet.

Speaking in a normal voice, she continues: "Ahh but Miss Kaaa, this one has been on pirate ships and comes from a veeeery far away land. Elves make the best pirates, Miss Kaaa, did ya know! This one likes to play with everything." With that, Windy winks and squeezes Kasienka's shoulder before heading off towards another member of the group.

All she could do was blink a few times as Windy bounded away. This was the second time she had heard her language today and her mind was reeling. Elves as pirates? Kasienka sat dumbfounded before smiling wearily and getting to her feet. She brushed off her pants then tried to approach the Princess Kouri.
 
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Rahim And Cennick
With @LimeyPanda
Cennick glanced about the courtyard. With all of Kouri's followers present a unique opportunity emerged, that to speak with some folk the duelist had deigned to introduce himself earlier. Most notably the giant, Rahim. Maybe not a giant to some, hells, compared to much of those gathered he might be considered to be simply quite tall. Cennick was not among the vertically advantaged however, from his low vantage he could imagine the amazonian man striding across mountain tops, fetching trapped animals from tall trees and other such feats of extreme size.

Cennick let such odd fantasies fester for a moment before abruptly shoving them aside and walking forth, "Hello Rahim," he started, "Have a minute for a chat?"


Rahim stood in the crowd with an impassive look of judgement on his face as he watched the slow mingling of the new faces with the old. He constantly kept one eye on the Orc as he watched the others; ready to intervene in case the big Green one tried to attack a member of his clan. When Cennick approached, Rahim turned to face him with a raised eyebrow. He tried to recall if the two had met before, and only recalled they had yet to exchange words. "I am free, yes. What is it you need?" He said, before glancing back towards the Orc.

Cennick followed Rahim's stare to the orc. The amazon's vigil was understandable, Cennick himself was not exactly trusting of their new companion, but he did present a unique opportunity of conversation, "You don't like our new orc friend, do you?"

Rahim glances away from the Orc for a second to look at Cennick. He had rarely sized up the man for anything other than a fairly average looking swordsman. He'd always noticed the confidence with which he carried himself, but many people were confident. It was only now that Rahim started to actually dwell on just what kind of man this Cennick might be. So far, he had very few answers. "It is difficult to trust a creature who I've only known as an enemy." He said, before moving his eyes back onto Grothnor. "Still, it is not my place to choose who joins. Everyone deserves the right to try." He said, shrugging away his prejudice with the most simple of personal beliefs.

"That's... An awfully practical way of thinking." Cennick wasn't sure what surprised him more, the brute's uncanny wisdom or his competent command of common. Perhaps being surprised at such thoughts told more about the duelist than anything else, but that wasn't something he was keen to dwell on at that moment. "Tell me Rahim, who do you think has the right to choose who joins?"

Rahim shrugs at the mention of his supposed practicality. His belief was too important to him to deny someone else. It would make him a false person. When presented with Cennick’s question though, Rahim paused for a moment, pondering his response for a few seconds before finally adding. “In truth, the Princess is the only one who can fairly have the final say. Others can offer advice, and I imagine she would listen, but in the end; this is her cause. She has the most to lose from a wrong decision.” He said, a frown on his face as he thought about how much the response spat in the face of his own desired belief. On one hand, he truly believed that everyone deserved a chance to be better than themselves, but on the other hand; the Princess’ life, and her dreams for her kingdom rested on being cautious. “Thankfully, it seems the Princess at least shares some of my ideals. Otherwise, we would not have the former-Templar, or an aged Vampire.

"That's a fair enough opinion, in essence I share the same but... Well it doesn't line up with reality too well." Cennick looked over the newcomers and pondered for a moment before continuing, "Kouri doesn't seem to be doing much choosing, not with this lot at least. Kiune is giving her bodies to work with, all the princess is doing is accepting them into our little band and I'm not confident in her ability to say no. You know what I mean?" The duelist himself wasn't exactly sure what he meant, something just was odd in the way the archdruid had just decided to dump allies upon them, including Chilum who she admitted was just found rummaging in her grove. Hells, Cennick himself was essentially just some mercenary thrust upon Kouri with no care of what she would think about it.

Rahim paused for a moment, and then offered a smirk. "I may be unfamiliar with the story, but isn't the Princess famous for her ability to say no?" He said, before glancing back at the strange figures on parade. "

"Heh, you're a clever one Rahim. I'll give you that." Cennick chuckled, "Anyway, that's hardly more than a bit of observation. I didn't come here just to talk about our new friends here, I came here to talk to you. When Kiune..." He motioned to the druid for emphasis, ".... oh-so politely violated our privacy and forced us to bare witness to everyone's deepest thoughts and ambitions I couldn't help but notice that she was, well, critical of your secret. Especially considering what some of our less reputable allies asked about."

Rahim frowned at the reminder of his talking down to by the druid. Her words had echoed Hanus’, but unlike his they shared a knowledge about the extent of Rahim’s strength. She had warned about how easily his strength could hurt others, including the princess. It was a bitter thing to hear, considering he considered the rage she spoke of as a very potent weapon of his. Being robbed of it would be a painful thing to lose, indeed. “It was something I needed to hear. I may not like it, but I need to accept that there will be no easy solution to my want.” He said, despite how much he resented the world constantly providing him examples to the contrary. How much stronger would the Blood Rite make him? How much more powerful would he be as a Vampire? He clenched his fist for a second, pushing the useless thoughts out of his head and out of his body language. “Sometimes, the mind needs to hear things it does not wish to heed a second time.

Sighing, he reached a hand up to rub his temple; trying to massage the frustration out of his mind. “Your secret was a useful one, at least. She made it sound so easy, did she not?

"A useful one, eh?" Cennick chuckled again, with more genuine air than before, "Indeed, it's useful so far as that we now know that Typhon is not immortal. Which is nice, don't get me wrong, but I think I'll give credit to us mere mortals and say that we could have figured out that magic, angel killing weapons would be used to kill angels. I would've personally preferred Kiune to tell us where to find such weapons, but I guess obvious questions warrant obvious answers." He shrugged, as he often did.

Rahim shrugged. “I feel better for hearing it. Next time we see the Apóvrasma (Scum), at least we will know he is not immortal.” He said, before his eyes drifted to Hanus. “Besides, would you know that Hanus’ axes were angel-killing weapons just by looking at them? I cannot imagine they are easy to find, or every Warlord with enough wealth would have one.

Not that it matters too much. I’m sure we’ll have other, more mortal foes to deal with before we meet the Archangel again. For them…” He paused, lifting the axe off the ground and hefting it onto his shoulder. “...This will be plenty.

Cennick looked the giant's axe up and down, a smirk growing on his lips, "Perhaps if our mortal foes happen to be particularly stubborn logs that massive tree hewer of yours would 'be plenty'. Anything with some base level of awareness and legs to move is going to be miles away before you bring that thing down on them." He raised a finger to call for a second of time and pulled a claymore, scabbard included, from his back. With a quick flick of his wrist the scabbard came free and fell to the ground below, revealing the over-polished blade in all its blinding splendor, "This, my friend, is the Everforged Claymore," He held the sword straight up in front of him, it's length dwarfing the diminutive duelist, "Six feet of pattern-forged crucible steel, plenty enough to cleave through any mortal foe. At the same managing to weigh little more than half-a-stone, meaning one can accelerate the thing with some semblance of grace." To punctuate his point he placed one hand under the pommel and let the other free, balancing the sword with little issue.

"That's hardly the most impressive part," The duelist re-grasped the handle with both hands and spent a second in focus, the claymore's blade quickly glowed red-hot and in another few seconds white-hot, "It remembers the heat of the crucible of which it was forged and is eager to bring that heat to its enemies, rendering armor slag and boiling flesh away like water with every wrathful stroke." Cennick turned his attention back to the amazon and winked, the blade cooling back down as fast as it heated up. "That's the theory anyway, I can't say I've had a chance to test it."

Rahim listened to Cennick's wordy display: at first with a tinge of annoyance at his weapon being dismissed as some base 'Tree-hewer'; and then with interest as the man began to show off his Claymore. The trick with it setting alight was interesting, if nothing else, but it hardly mattered to him if the weapon was hot. It wouldn't cut much better through a man if it was hot. "You clearly have not seen an axe used properly if you think it is so easy to avoid." He said, as blunt as a tack. "If you ever feel like being tested by a man wielding a 'Tree-hewer' then you need only ask." He said, a little smirk on his lips as he gazed at the man, curious to see how the little man responded.

"As for your weapon; it is impressive, but you speak about it more like a trader than a wielder."

"It's just a bit of showmanship," Cennick bent down to pick up the discarded scabbard and brushed it off, "I'm not usually one for such things, but I occasionally indulge myself for a bit of fun. In reality the heating is probably not very useful outside of intimidation or boiling water, but it's a big magic sword regardless. That has to count for something." He shrugged, and sheathed the Everforged Claymore with a dull thud, he was about to replace it on his back when a thought struck him, "Maybe I do feel like being 'tested' by you and your felling axe there, just name a time and place."

Rahim smiled at the mention of a duel. The offer of a time and a place was an interesting one, and he considered just asking to duel the man here and there. They were both armed, they were both healthy, they were both able...

...Instead, he just shook his head. "I'll let you decide. We shouldn't rush things though. There are other concerns worth focusing on." He said, looking over once again at the Orc.

As various members of the Princess' party, old and new alike, started to splinter off, Rahim thought of something he wished to attend to. His list was growing ever longer, and one thing had been a desire of his for a while. "Is there anything else, Fylí (Clan)?"

"Indeed." Cennick again followed Rahim's look to the orc. It was rather an inappropriate time for dueling and he had already refused Chilum on a similar offer. The duelist slung the claymore onto his back, "No, Rahim, I think that's it for now. I'll let you get to whatever business you please." He nodded and waved, not putting to much thought into the meaning of the word 'Fylí', the giant spoke it in a friendly enough cadence.
 
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Kalemn Weller and Mikan

As the newcomers started to mingle with the group, Kalemn opted to ignore them and search out Mikan instead. It wasn't that the newcomers weren't interesting. In fact, almost the opposite. They were a strange group of people, rivaling the already rampant oddities apparent in Kouri's followers. As for Mikan, Kalemn sought her out not due to a desire for a pleasant chat, but because after her confrontation with Rahim, it was clear some things needed to be set straight.

"Mikan!" Kalemn called out when she found her, "I'm going to borrow your attention for a minute. We need to talk about some of the shit you pulled last night."

It didn't take long to find the girl. She was outside. As Kalemn approaches, Mikan seems content to keep some personal space between them. "Kalemn." She replies, quietly.

"Mikan," Kalemn said, mockingly mimicking the quiet tone of voice. "I'm not feeling up to trying to ease into my point, so here it is: stop provoking enemies you can't handle. Last night there was you throwing a rock at Kouri, then dirt at that older man. Before that, at the lake, you threw some daggers at Marcus without a single word being exchanged, before he threw you into the lake. None of those went well for you."

Kalemn made a vague sweeping away gesture, like clearing space on a table. "Normally, I wouldn't mind. You trying to get yourself killed? Fine. Live your life, or not, how you want. But," Kalemn's voice took on a harder note as her eyes narrowed, "now you have people falling over themselves in their need to help you. Or get in bed with you, more likely. You getting yourself killed is one thing, but dragging the rest of the group down with you is another. I mean, last night... Kouri and the man were leaving. That whole test could've been so much easier if you had just let them leave instead of throwing a fit like some swaddled child."

"Fuck off Kalemn." Mikan spits at her boots. "If I wanted advice about what fights to pick, I'd take it from someone who didn't murder farmers and get widows raped by her friends. I have enough sins to carry without adding you to the mix. Go ride James' dick some more, would you?"

"What?" Kalemn asked, going very still. "Where did you hear that? You got James tucked up your cunt as well, whore?" All traces of Kalemn's usual casual attitude were gone, and her knuckles were white as they gripped the handle of her sword.

"Nah, I just did not buy that whole bullshit mercenary story." Mikan remarked simply, as she rests her hands on the handles of her blades, and keeps a few feet of space between them. "So I listened, like good thieves do. You're worried about me getting you killed? That is funny, now I have to wonder if you are not just waiting for the perfect opportunity to slit the Princess' throat... Or mine. Who can trust you? You are out for yourself, nobody else. You will murder and leave people to be raped. If an angel offered you an out through the Princess' life, you would take it in an instant, would you not?"

Kalemn visually relaxed as Mikan denied Jame's involvement, though she was still clearly angry at having the discussion turned around on her. "I'm the only person I trust to always have my back," Kalemn said sharply, "and I'd never put my life in Typhon's hands. He swore to kill me as an afterthought. I'm going to tear that fucker apart, piece by piece. Break his toys and burn his house. You don't trust me? Fine, but trust that I'm a vindictive bitch. And if I need Kouri to succeed to take down that self-righteous winged dick, then I'm going to make sure she succeeds."

"I still don't trust you." Mikan states, glaring at her. She takes a deep breath, and exhales softly. "But, then, nobody has any reason to trust me either, I guess." She starts walking away, shaking her head. "Just don't judge the reasons I start fights when yours are worse."

Watching the other woman walk away, Kalemn found herself quickly growing tired of letting others get the last word in an argument, but couldn't think of a properly scathing retort. One thing was certain, however: her secret was starting to become worringly fragile.
 
Amaia Nekane & Tahlia Wether
A collab between @Jorick and @Holmishire.

As Kouri's loyal companions gathered at Kiune's call, Tahlia found herself glancing around for someone in particular. She felt she had more than one apology to give out for her words the past few days, and the sooner she voiced them the shorter the time they would have to fester.

She spotted Amaia, and quickly approached the other woman alone, reaching out a hand to grasp her arm but holding herself back a few inches short. "Amaia," she started hesitantly, "May we talk?"

Amaia turned upon hearing her name, and upon seeing Tahlia the faint smile she'd been wearing slipped into a grimace. Her eyes were still a bit reddened, but otherwise she'd washed away the other signs of her earlier distress over the course of a long bath. She saw the other woman's extended hand and reached out to grab it with her own, then used that grip to pull Tahlia into a hug and replied while holding her close. "Of course we can talk. We need to talk. I'm sorry for yesterday, I was being an ass."

"What? No, I…" Tahlia was still a bit stiff as she was pulled into the hug, as if refusing to allow herself the comfort just yet. "I wanted to apologize. I know you were only trying to help, and whether I disagreed or not, I shouldn't have cut you out like that.

Amaia let go of Tahlia and took a short step back, giving her a puzzled smile. "Oh. I think you were in the right, though. I was being pushy and suspicious for no good reason, should've trusted you to handle your own business. If you wanna apologize for being a little harsh, that's fine, all is forgiven. Are we okay then? I thought you'd be upset with me, thought I'd have to track you down and apologize a lot before you'd want to talk to me again."

"I was upset, but I don't want to push you away. Kasienka helped me to see that." She bit her lip anxiously before she continued. "I know you've lost someone today, so… I don't want you to think you're alone."

Amaia winced a bit at the mention of her loss, but she pushed through it. "Kasienka got to you too, huh? She came and talked to me, helped me get on my feet and sort through some things. I'm... mostly okay, but thank you, knowing that I'm not alone is a lot of what's keeping me going honestly." She cleared her throat and looked away for a moment. "Uh, and since I'm already being honest, I guess I misjudged James. He's creepy and kind of an asshole, sure, but, well, you saw his talk with Kiune. There's a lot more to him than I thought, and it seems like he actually has a good heart under it all. He really might just want to help you and Faolan, and it's not like you've got a lot of good options, so I hope he can get the job done. I don't know if I can help with any of that, but if I can I will."

"I imagine you heard Kiune's 'advice'? For now, there is nothing to be done. Not until we reach the Free Holds." Tahlia sighed, looking down at her feet. "When I first decided to follow the princess, I thought only of what I could offer her cause. Now, it seems more and more as though it is only by following her that I'll have any chance at achieving my own goals."

She looked back up at Amaia, now frowning slightly. "Have you had much chance to speak to the princess? I've barely said a word to her since we set out."

Amaia laughed and nodded, though there was more than a little embarassment in the sound, on her face, and in her voice as she replied. "I know what you mean. I came along at first because I thought it'd be fun, then figured it was a good idea, but mostly I've been working on my own problems since we left the pond. And, uh, yeah, I've talked to her." She coughed nervously and looked off to the side, scratching absently at the side of her neck.

"First I made bet with Dean that I could make her mad at me, so I said some, uh, pretty rude things. Almost made her cry, I think. It was real awkward. Then at the ranger place I went to talk to her in the bath and sort of.. hit on her. That was also awkward, but I ended up deciding I wouldn't do that again because I'm, er, not a good fit for being with a princess." Amaia cleared her throat again and looked back to Tahlia with a sheepish smile. "But she was kind about it. Almost unnaturally kind. Didn't even yell at me or tell me she didn't want me around any more, just said I should try to be a better person. And I just talked to her earlier today, too. I'm gonna help her turn the King's Rangers into something other than a group of assholes after this is all over. She's not what the stories make her sound like, not some goddess or something, just a person who's nice and wants to help people. You should talk to her, I bet she'll wanna help too if you tell her about Faolan."

"I've burdened enough people with my problems already, and she has enough on her own. For now, I just need to trust James to do what he can, and comfort Faolan as best I can."

"I think y-" Amaia stopped with the word half formed, thought about what she'd been about to say, then changed course entirely and started the sentence over. "I think you might also want Kasienka's help, at least. Kiune said something about needing a healer of some sort if you wanted to do things the good way, and I dunno if James can do that part of.. whatever has to be done." She shrugged to emphasize her general lack of knowledge about magic. "But I guess there's no use making plans or anything until we're in the Free Holds. I think you should talk to Kouri though, not about Faolan, just.. get to know her I guess? We're all following her on this mission, so might as well get to know her some. It'd be real strange to go through all sorts of danger and adventures with someone without talking to them at some point' y'know?"

"A fair point." She grimaced, thinking. "After last night, I almost feel as if I know too much about some of our… companions. I wanted to be able to trust them all, but some of the things that were said, and some things done, have shaken my faith in their integrity." As she spoke, she glanced most notably at Samuel and Sisera, her gaze lingering on the latter of the two.

Amaia nodded, followed Tahlia's gaze, then nodded again with more vigor. "I dunno what you mean about things done, but after seeing other people talk to Kiune... I'm not really a witch hunter any more, but Samuel makes me want to take up the job again for a day. Wanting to make a weapon out of fear has witch written all over it." She spat on the ground, as if clearing her mouth of a foul taste, then looked away from the suspicious mages. "Wasn't all bad, though, and I think I gained trust for more people than I lost from a couple bad ones. Seems like James isn't actually an evil bastard, just a bit of an asshole. And Marcus saved me, so I guess he's not a demon after all. I really need to go thank him for that, actually." Amaia looked around and spotted him, sighed, and then shot an apologetic look at Tahlia. "I should probably go get it over with now. We can talk more later, if you want."

Tahlia smiled and waved Amaia off. "Of course."[/hr]
 
Cennick And Kalemn
With @HerziQuerzi
Cennick was rarely the retributive type, he preferred to act as an mediator or justice; Jury, not judge and most definitely not executioner. However, baring witness to what he saw as a pointless bit of antagonism set something off inside of him, something that had been thoroughly brow beaten into him these last couple days. He approached Kalemn with an unusual strut in his step, one of purpose. "Kalemn?" A false friendliness tainted his voice, "Would you mind coming with me for a moment?"

Kalemn sighed as Cennick approached. "Depends. Are you going to keep talking like I'm a child caught in the pantry?"

"Depends." Cennick parroted, "Are you going to continue acting like a child?" The hypocrisy of those words were not lost on the duelist.

Kalemn raised a brow, amused by the irony of the response. "Really?" Crossing her arms, she continued. "Was there something you wanted, or...?"

"I want you to come with me so we could have a short, private chat."

Kalemn smirked as she let herself be led away. "Short and private? In your case, honesty might not be the best choice when trying to woo someone."

Cennick caught himself before he chuckled. It was a somewhat clever, if not exactly original, remark. "I'm honestly surprised you know what it's like to be woo'd, but I guess not everyone has standards." He walked her over to the nearest private room available, what happened to be a bedroom to his mild dismay, considering Kalemn's earlier comment. It would have to do. With an eyeroll he entered beckoning Kalemn to keep following with glare and a wave of his hand.

"It seems you don't," she said, following Cennick in and closing the door behind her. Leaning against it, she grinned. "You got me where you want me. Alone and private. Impress me, pretty boy."

Cennick opened his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. In the back of his mind he expected this to happen, but with the same chance he expected Hanus to suddenly turn feral and chew his throat out. "No." He finally managed to get out, "Just... No. I brought you here to talk about your unprovoked cat fight with Mikan."

"It was very provoked," Kalemn said, after stifling the laughter caused by Cennick's dumbfounded reaction. "And also personal. Why? Does she have you looking to dip the dowsing rod in her pond just like everyone else? If so, then I'll do you a favour and make sure to leave here looking as disheveled as I can. You don't want to tie yourself to that girl."

"Oh, gods take me..." He muttered under his breath, "I have no intention to 'dip my dowsing rod', as you so eloquently put it, in Mikan. She a nice woman with some obvious issues. I'd just rather you didn't go aggravating them with, what, combat tactics in a dream world? What sort of madwoman does that?" As frustrated as he was, Kalemn's demeanor had managed to soften the duelist's anger. To his continued dismay.

"How virtuous," Kalemn mocked, unconvinced. Though she was clearly enjoying her jabs at Cennick, she still felt the need to defend herself. "A madwoman who was actually there? You were off in your own dreamworld, and joined us a day late. Mikan's shown she's no stranger to getting herself into trouble, and needing others to drag her out of it." Kalemn frowned. "Wait... You knew what I was talking to her about? How much did you overhear?"

"Enough." He said, leaving the word to hang for a moment, "For a couple of sneaks you two didn't exactly conduct your little spat quietly. I know what you are. Or, at least, what Mikan thinks you are. As I said, she has issues. I can't be taking all she assumes as truth, I do admit though she made a somewhat convincing argument though. You are quite, for lack of a better word, rough. Even for a supposed mercenary."

Kalemn pushed herself off of the door and took a step forward. "Apologies, m'lord," Kalemn drawled, "but I had to learn the sword by trial and error; not with padded sticks and a doting nursemaid on hand to comfort me when I bruised my precious knee." She gave a bitter laugh. "Gods, why does everyone here have to be so fucking noble. Even Rahim waxes poetic about what's right and what's wrong. What next, is the orc going to scold me on my dirty language?"

"Oh, don't you fucking mistake me for some soft aristocrat who spent their life lounging about being hand fed by servants," Cennick almost growled, he walked up to the brigand and met her eye-to-eye. A notable rarity for the duelist, "I hate that, I hate that more than you could possibly imagine. Sure, I admit my life up this point has most likely been easier than yours, but it was hardly easy." He looked Kalemn up and down, "Have you ever been beaten with a switch to a point where you were physically unable to cry out in pain, only to be beaten again because the punisher decided you didn't scream enough? Did you have to endure hours of endless drilling? Did you have to painstakingly copy out entire manuscripts by hand, perfection enforced with yet the threat of more beatings."

He took a step back to grant himself some breathing room, "The only reason I care as much as I do about your spat with Mikan is that, whether you or I like it or not, we're all stuck in this shit situation together. You antagonizing Mikan over pointless battles only makes this harder for us. All of us. We've already been set on an impossible journey, don't fuck it up any more than it already is."

"She's going to get people killed," Kalemn exclaimed, exasperated, "why am I the only one- ah, fuck, you're not going to listen to this." She sighed, then gave a wry smirk. "Anything else you want to get done while we're tucked away?"

Cennick sighed in mirror. There was no point trying to hammer his point in, it would just create more of the drama he was arguing against. He looked to the door, he could leave now and hope his little tirade got through to the woman, but something held him back. Something about Kalemn intrigued him and Cennick wasn't one to pass up a chance with an intriguing woman.

"Were you serious about being 'impressed'?" He asked with a peaked brow. Standards were something he apparently lacked.

As reply, Kalemn shoved Cennick unceremoniously back towards the bed, James' flower still tucked behind her ear.
 
Rahim and James - Mind over Matter
(Feat. @Brovo as James)​

After the brief meeting of the new faces in the garden, Rahim made his way back into the Druid’s mansion. He had come up with a few small errands he wished to complete; a bucket-list of little tasks. The first on his list was perhaps the most important to him. In all the recent fervour of self-improvement, he’d found himself focusing on Marcus and Hanus and Dean, and had failed to spend a moment to fulfil other promises. He had become so focused on his body, and had neglected his mind for too long.

And so, with a rucksack slung over his shoulder, and his axe deposited in his room, Rahim moved through the mansion of Kiune with a singular purpose. When he found the man, likely alone, Rahim approached without any intent to hide himself. He was notably without his axe, and he had a small rucksack over his shoulder. “James, I would like to speak with you , if you are not busy.He said, crossing his arms with a patient, practiced stoicism as he waited for James to respond.

James was standing in front of the fireplace. It had gone out, hints of smoke still rose from it, and yet he seemed almost enchanted by it. As he heard Rahim's words however, he finally turns and looks at the Amazon face to face. Beatrice was on his shoulder, tilting her head curiously as he looks up at the man's face."What do you want?"

He took a moment to look at Beatrice, staring into her eyes with a curiosity that bordered on child-like. He did not understand what the Bird truly was, only that it was something more than a bird. Magic had long since fascinated him, and even this was a new; fascinating thing to the curious mind of the Amazonian. After a few seconds of staring though, he broke his brief fixation away to face James. “Your magic, the illusions, and your bird…You are powerful, yes? You understand it better than most?” He said, less interrogative, and more affirming. He had no doubts that of the mages that were present in the travelling, James was probably the most singularly powerful; at least for what he desired.

"Understand is a... Funny word to use about magic. "James replies honestly, as he shrugs nonchalantly. "I have an innate talent with it. Why?" He looks up into Rahim's eyes, staring, coldly. "What do you want?"

Rahim nodded at James honesty, before continuing. "I am...unsure how to deal with magic. There is nothing to stop me from being injured, or knocked out, or worse, because I cannot do anything about it. I was hoping you could maybe teach me something...Anything really. Just knowing that it was in the air would be enough. I do not expect to be able to cast spells, I just want to be aware of how to...well...sense it? Enough that I won't be helpless to it again." He looked over at the fireplace, watching the embers with a muted interest. Not so long ago, he was talking with the Princess here, trying to help her. Now it was his turn to seek out help, it seemed.


James smirks with amusement, and shakes his head. "You want me to teach you how to sense magic? Can you even read and write?" He was amused by the notion, clearly. Yet, he sighs, and motions toward the floor in front of the fireplace. "Sit."

Rahim did not pick up on the sarcasm quickly enough, and when asked if he could read or write, took it as a literal question. He shook his head, and when he was asked to sit, he shrugged before obliging the man; sitting in front of the fire with crossed legs as he looked up at the man, at chest height with the standing mage. “Thank you.” He said, nodding towards James as he stared with open curiosity and intrigue.

"Right. Okay." James steps beside Rahim and kneels down to be at eye level. "How to explain this in a way you will understand..." James didn't seem to intend it as an insult, he likely thought lowly of Rahim's intelligence as a simple fact. "Magic is in everything around you. It is in the air. It is in you. It is in me." Beatrice flies in and lands in front of the fire place. She starts to preen herself. "It is in her." Beatrice seems to chuckle with amusement--insofar as a bird reasonably could--while James weaves his magic. A piece of cooked meat and a plate appear just in front of Rahim. If he tried to touch them, he would feel nothing--they were incorporeal. "This is magic. It's collected there, made to fool you. Go ahead, try to touch it."

Rahim frowned when it became obvious that James thought him an idiot. He watched as James pointed out various objects, be it the space in between them, or the people, or the bird. When the plate of cooked meat appeared in front of him, Rahim’s eyebrow rose and he gave the plate a look of disgust. When James then told him to touch it, his frown deepened. “I know it does not exist, why would I try and touch it? Food does not appear out of thin air.” He continued to stare at the plate; annoyed at its very existence. After a moment, he reached out to touch it; but not in order to grab it, but to knock it aside, like one might bat aside smoke in the air, or bash aside insects in the way.

James snickers to himself, but stops quickly. He snaps his fingers, and the plate vanishes. "Right, well, you came to me, expect a touch of fun." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He closes his eyes as his hand shakes. It becomes wreathed in a bright purple aura. His other hand moves over it, as though pulling the magical force away from his arm, without ever touching it, until a purple ball--about the size of a fist--hovers in front of him. He stares at it, his eyes seeming to glint with pride. "Power. That's what magic ultimately is. If you want to feel it, you have to understand the things I say to you... It is not because I think you are dumber than the average person... It is because the average person does not comprehend what magic is, and most never will in their lifetime."

He stays kneeling beside Rahim, and yet with a simple glance from his eyes, he seems able to move the sphere in front of Rahim. It seems to flicker, darkly, on occasion. Beatrice ceases preening herself to watch it. "Close your eyes, reach out toward it, and imagine what power feels like, Rahim."

Rahim sighs at James’ first retort. It was one of mild-defeat, as he let the indignation flood out of his breath like a cold stream down the mountain rocks. “Right…Sorry.” He said, returning to silence as he watched James conjure up the strange ball of…purple. His eyes locked onto the orb with an obsessive transfixion. The orb hung in the air, a visual aid to James’ speech about magic. He made it all seem so simple, and he brought it back around to that single, defining word again. That word which kept ringing in the Amazon’s mind as he walked the Druid’s halls. Power, power, power.

When told to reach for the Orb and imagine power, Rahim was unsure what to draw upon. He closed his eyes though, and slowly rose his hand with slightly trembling fingers; fidgeting with a mix of caution and excitement. He tried to think about powerful things: He thought about Kouri’s introductory display of magic; he thought about Hanus, and the feel of his hand around Rahim’s throat as he tossed him around like a rag-doll; he thought of Typhon, and the sense of helplessness that the Archangel’s power exerted over them all. As his fingers were about to reach the orb, his mind shifted to a vision of his old Chieftain. The face of Aichmirós stared at him, impassively mocking his weakness; as powerful a force on his life as he knew. The shock of seeing her face visibly shook Rahim, and caused him to flinch as his fingers reached the orb.

Rahim would feel nothing as his fingers reached where the orb should be. He did, however, feel a hint what he imagined power to feel like. Beside him, instead of in front of him. "Open your eyes and look." James speaks quietly. The source of the power would be James himself, with a deep, dark purple aura, across his entire body. As soon as Rahim looked, James would allow it to fade away. "That, is all it takes. It takes a while to learn how to do it subconsciously, and your first few conscious attempts will be rather... Pitiful. Still, there you go. That is all I care to teach you for now, I have my own affairs to attend to."

Looking towards James, as he glowed with the crackle of purple that seemed to resonate off of him like a cloak of strength. For a moment, Rahim's eyes seemed dazed as his head tilted to observe the unexplained phenomenon. He felt himself almost transfixed by the display of power, until it was quashed by the magician himself. Rahim's eyes focused on the man as he explained that Rahim would be forced to practice the task; and Rahim paused to ponder that for a moment. How on earth would he focus on sensing magic without the help of James, or some other magician? Surely he would not be able to focus on sensing the magic without a source.

That was when a brief idea struck him. He reached into the rucksack he'd been carrying; plucking form the top a small flower, potted in an orb of strange magically compact dirt. He placed it between himself and James. "This will serve as something to focus on, correct? It might not be as...obvious, but it will work; right?" He said, the question hanging in the air like the question of a curious child.

"I..." James pauses, and sighs in exasperation. "S-sure, yeah. Naturally. That's... A hard thing to detect. It is largely passive... Just, focus on me!... Or any of the other magicians when we use magic. You can practice that way. Well, and you'll be more naturally attuned to sensing things I do now, because I am the first thing you've felt. Fancy, isn't it?"

Rahim heard James mention the idea of focusing on him, or the other mages, and nodded: taking a mental note to focus on them when he had the opportunity. When James also added the tidbit of knowledge that Rahim would be able to sense his magic, and his constructs more naturally because of the first lesson; the amazonian smiled. "That sounds useful, at least. I will be able to sense you, in case you are in danger." He said, nodding as if the instinct to protect the people who were on Kouri's side was the most natural thing in the world.

"Still, with the plant; I will be able to practice without disturbing you mages. That, and difficult training will build my… 'Strength' faster." He said, thinking of the ability to sense magic as comparable to training a muscle, or with a weapon.

After a moment of staring at the plant, Rahim nodded to himself as he scooped it up into one hand, and stood up. He reached down and offered a hand to the sitting James. "Thank you for this lesson. I will come to you if I make a breakthrough."

The illusionist doesn't take Rahim's hand, instead just nodding and sighing. "Yes yes. Leave me to my thoughts. I have much to... Resolve. Alone."
 
Rahim and Mikan - Bad Memories
(Feat @Brovo as Mikan)​

After the surprisingly successful meeting with James, Rahim made his way through the house to find Mikan. He had not seen her properly since the Druid’s strange visions-quest, and he wanted to clear the air again. It had been too long since they had spoken; and he wanted to rectify that. Who knows, if his meeting with James could be so productive, surely his meeting with Mikan would be equally useful?

When he eventually found her he called out to the woman, waving a hand in the air as he adjusted the rucksack on his shoulder. “Mikan, are you free at the moment?

With a single glance, Mikan's eyes quickly light up with happiness. She walks over to him, her lips curling upward with a flirtatious hint as she looks at him. "How are you doing, big guy?"

Seeing Mikan’s smile was enough to loosen up Rahim’s posture. The slight tension he’d felt, from being inside Kiune’s domain, was melting away as he smiled back at her. “I am…better. It is good to move forward.” He said, before taking a moment to glance at her neck. “It doesn’t hurt, does it?” He said, tapping his own neck where previously Mikan had sported the dream’s painful sores and blotches. He had admittedly come here as much to ask about Mikan’s dream than to just seek her company.

She hesitates, almost appearing not to understand, before a look of recognition enters her eyes and she sighs with relief. "My neck is fine." She states simply, as she takes a couple steps closer, standing only about a foot away from Rahim. "How is the shoulder?"

He presents the previously 'injured' shoulder to her, revealing it to be intact and without injury. "I am unharmed." He said, noticing her edge closer and not moving away from her. After a moment of quiet, he filled the silence with another question, one that had him a little on edge about the asking. "Having to kill her must have been difficult, but you acted without any hesitation. It didn't trouble you at all?" He said, thinking back to his own momentary hesitation at the act. Looking back made the whole thing seem bizarre: hesitating to kill the false Kouri, and being injured because of it. Yet the thought had been so abstract and repulsive at the time, it was hard to get past how unnatural it felt to attack a leader.

"I..." Mikan sighs and takes a step back, leaning against the nearest wall. "No." She lies, clearly, as she glares at Rahim. It was clear she didn't like this subject. It seemed like she was almost going to leave it at that, yet, she oddly doesn't. Her typically flirty tone is replaced by something far colder. "Remember what I said about trusting people? Back in the stables?"

He thought back to the conversation briefly, and recalled the gist of the conversation quickly enough. “You warned me to be careful who I trusted.” He said, looking at her with a curious concern.

"No." Mikan's smile wavers a little. "I told you not to trust anyone. Especially not people from civilization, big guy. People like me." She taps her foot on the floor and sighs as she looks down at the wood underneath her. She doesn't add anything else.

Rahim paused at the sound of Mikan's sigh, and the obvious weight to her words. It hurt a little to see her, dejected and weakened by whatever secret she held onto. He wished he had something to say, or something to do that might cheer her up.

He remembered what he said last time to cheer her up. It had mostly been a joke at the time; a flirtatious tease and nothing more. He had not been sure what the woman's intent had been, but he felt closer to her now. Close enough for something stupid.

Without pause, Rahim gently placed the sack he'd had over his shoulder on the ground. Without looking up at Mikan, he kicked off his worn leather sandals, and then without a word, he pulled at the cord of his trousers; dropping them to the floor. With nothing left but his underwear, Rahim sat on the ground, Cross-legged. "Last time, I offered my back to you, to show I trusted you. Now I offer this." He said, looking up at the woman from his very exposed position on the ground. There was a little bit of awkwardness in the big man's gaze, as he looked up at her with something that almost looked like fear and expectation. There wasn't much more terrifying than a blind leap of faith; and this was a hell of a jump.

Seeing him disrobe and then sit upon the floor, she opens her eyes widely and simply stares at him. "You... I... Ah..." Her cheeks seem to light up a little as she walks toward him, giggling nervously. "You act like you've never..." She stops, and looks at him in the eyes."... Oh, Gods, don't tell me you've never..." She coughs, finding herself almost stumbling over her words. "... Never had a woman, before."

Rahim found it suddenly difficult to meet Mikan’s glance, as she coughed awkwardly and asked about his past experiences with intimacy. “Once.” He said, still unwilling to meet her gaze. “It was not a pleasant experience.” He said, bluntly. After a few moments, he found the resolve to stare back into the woman's eyes. He refused to let his gaze falter this time, and he met Mikan's green eyes; even offering the slim cut of a smile to her. "Uncivilized people can be just as untrustworthy. You seem different to me though; you remind me of the good parts of my home, and make me think of the better parts of the world away from it."

She simply stands there for a few moments, staring into his eyes. Rather than offering some sort of flirtatious words, she simply kneels down in front of Rahim. In one movement, her hands grasp his shoulders, and she leans in and presses her lips to his. She closes her eyes and lingers for a few seconds, then ends it, and pulls back gently, and slowly. Her hands gently run across his face, before falling away. "Then I will not add another for you. I am not going to take advantage of you, big guy." She leans in again, but this time, simply whispers and looks straight into his eyes. "I was, a few times." As she breaks her gaze away from his, he can see little flickers of intense pain within her normally flirtatious and playful gaze. She stands up slowly, seeming almost a little flighty as she stays light on her feet. "Now come on, put... Your clothes, back on. Then, how about you come with me outside. Maybe another time you might learn some darker stuff about me, but, can we just... Enjoy the sunlight, and the fresh air, and not having to worry for our lives for an hour instead? I do not think we are going to get a lot of that when we leave."

The brief moment of the kiss was a strange quiet in a torrent of painful remembrance. It was almost over before it began, and as her hand caressed his face, he felt a serene comfort to the intimacy. He didn’t say anything when she mentioned her refusal to become another mistake, or regret; and he didn’t mention anything when she whispered her ability to empathise. He felt a deep frown take to his face, and the sight of the intensity of the pain in her eyes felt like a stab wound. He reached out a hand to touch her shoulder, squeezing it lightly as she stood up. When she mentioned just going outside, and enjoying the sunlight and the fresh air, and the rare tranquillity of life, he smiled. He stood up, and quickly re-dressed himself, and hefted the bag up with a smile. “I would like that.” He said, before quickly adding: “The relaxing part, not the ‘learning more about your dark secrets’ part.” He rubbed the back of his head, looking past the woman towards the exit. “Although sharing might not be such a bad thing…” He reached out and gently grabbed Mikan's hand; squeezing it gently before releasing it again. "Lead the way; if you have a spot in mind."

Mikan looks back at Rahim and nods. "Let's go." With that said, she leaves, heading outside. A strange smile is on her lips, almost seeming distant, but it appeared neither of the pair had anything else of merit to talk about. Rahim followed after her, keeping the silence for the entire hour as they did exactly as promised; they enjoyed the sunlight, and the fresh air, and the tranquility of it all. A serene backdrop to two disquieted individuals.
 
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A Question of Knighthood
Kasienka and Kouri

Today had already been long enough, but Kasienka would not let herself rest until she had spoken to the princess. She was finally alone, and Kasienka was stable enough to keep the princess from worrying about her condition. The elf approached slowly then sank into a deep curtsy before sinking onto one knee before the woman.

The staff and bow that were usually across her back were laid across her palms as she bowed her head and spoke, "Regina, baculum meum tibi offero. Numquid faciem eius accipitis, et semper pignus mei ingenii nomine tuo propter principia. Manum meam ad te et vocabis me consilium. Arcum meum tibi offero. Numquid faciem ejus accipitis, et pro salute mea et pignus salutis spectent vera regni tui. (Princess, I offer you my staff. Should you accept, it is my pledge to always use my abilities in your name, for your principles. I will use my knowledge to counsel you when you call of me. I offer you my bow. Should you accept, it is my pledge to always aim true for your safety and for the safety of your kingdom.)" She lifted her head, and slipped back into the common tongue. "I cannot be a knight as Sir Hanus is, but I wish to serve you for all of my days in whatever way you need of me. You needn't ever feel alone so long as I walk this plane."

A look of surprise reaches the Princess' eyes, followed with gratitude, and a hint of confusion. "You can be a knight if you wish to be. I can bestow that rite upon any who wish it, and who have earned it... I believe you have."

Kasienka bowed her head again. She knew should would not be as strong a knight as Hanus, but she would go to the same lengths as him to protect the princess. "As her highness wishes. No matter what it is you decide upon, it is a great honor."

"That is your burden to take or leave." Kouri replies, quietly. "I am asking you if you wish to be a knight."

"Si volis hunc, volo. (If you wish this, I wish [this].)" Kasienka smiled up at Kouri. A knight wasn't her dream title, as bringing herself to violence was difficult as is. For the princeps, she would do whatever it took to keep her healthy and safe.

The Princess' expression changes to one of grave seriousness as she unsheathes the royal blade from her waist. However, instead of going through a typical knighting ceremony, she impales the end of the blade into the wooden floor between them. "Vos enim estis carnales. (You are not ready.)" A layer of frost develops on the blade, chilling the floor around it. She then lets go of it, and kneels down in front of Kasienka, grasping her shoulder. "But I appreciate it nonetheless, Kasienka. I consider you a friend, and an ally. Thank you." Slowly, she stands up, then grabs the handle of the blade. She then tears it out of the wooden floor, struggling with it momentarily, before sheathing it once more.

Kasienka was not offended by the decision, nor did she take it as a slight. She stood after Kouri finished talking and, with a smile, she shrugged. "I would make a terrible knight. My abilities do not lie on the battlefield or in duels. I cannot serve you in the same way Sir Hanus does. I am glad you were able to see the difference."

She gave Kouri a deep bow then winked at the princess. "You're proving to be as smart as you are beautiful, young woman. I can't wait to see what happens next." It was clear that her tone did not mean to be flirtatious, merely teasing.

The Princess shakes her head, but smiles nonetheless. "I will be glad to have you help me through the future." She then starts moving past Kasienka. "I shall see if anyone else needs to speak, then ask Kiune about leaving. Be ready."
 
Kalemn Weller

As Kalemn left Kiune's mansion, humming to herself, it was clear she had followed through on her offer of looking as disheveled as possible. Hair in disarray, swordbelt slung over her shoulder, and pack swinging from her hand. And atop it all, an inordinately smug expression. Despite her scars and the mounting suspicion surrounding her, she'd managed some rough and tumble with one of the more good looking members of the party. An act that had also let her take a step outside her accelerating spiral of stress and feelings of powerlessness. None of her problems had gone away, but feeling much more like her normal self, they seemed far more manageable.

Typhon's oath to kill them all still loomed overhead, but Kalemn had been on the run and in hiding before. The angel was powerful, incredibly so, but not omniscient. Neither were the Gods above him, it seemed, or less Kouri would've been found millennium ago, let alone survived long enough to gather together a group of followers and enlist the aid of the King's Rangers.

Perhaps even more pressing, however, was that the secret she had shared with James had spread so quickly thanks to the eavesdropping of a girl. If Kalemn had known about the eavesdropping, she wouldn't have confronted Mikan out in the open, but as it was, her secret had been spread once more, this time to Cennick. Annoying, but hopefully their fun had been enough to dissuade him from selling her out. Especially since his pride was unlikely to let him openly admit to sleeping with someone he even suspected of being a bandit. That still left Mikan, but having regained her composure, Kalemn was determined not to let one teenage girl throw her off balance like that again.
 
(A Collaboration between Baldrik (@West) and Kiune (@Brovo))​

After some hours of mingling about, leaving the bath tub and securing his equipment that he'd need later on into the journey in his sturdy backpack. Baldrik followed along as he heard the whisper ordering them to gather up. And, as predicted, he stood close to Kouri. His heart was pounding when he was standing there. The fact he was so close to her, Kouri, and yet he knew the full on intent of the spirits hidden within his blade, it made him feel close to horrendous. He had to control it, or find a way to control them. Otherwise, he'd never be able to find what he would call happiness in this world. And he knew what that'd mean. Baldrik looked over towards the figures as they were introduced left and right, examining them all and hearing out their description, smiling towards them all in an effort to show that he's happy to have them join the party.

Some were more scarier than others, and some warmed his soul once more, reminding him that there was still a chance. But he had to act now, and he had to ask the person he believed with the most amount of powers in the room: Kiune. Once the introductions had been wrapped up, he gave Kouri a gentle smile, nodding at her before walking around the house. Kiune should be able to hear him... right? She may not have responded when he was in the bath, but she probably just respected his privacy. So, now he had to try again. Perhaps the secret charm of attracting her was being fully clothed and clean, Baldrik joked to himself before talking in a normal tone again. "Kiune, do you mind showing yourself? I need to talk to you, regarding... well, a few things, really."

Baldrik could feel the breeze blow past his face, as a hand reaches out and taps his shoulder from behind. It was the young looking Kiune once more. She doesn't speak, seemingly waiting to see what he would have to say for himself.

Baldrik felt his courage well up once more as he saw her. He sighed in order to relieve himself of any excessive amounts of stress that he'd have built up, before coming clean. "You see, Kiune. I've been having, troubles. Troubles I've began to notice manifest within me when I well set my feet upon your grove. Perhaps the relaxing nature showed the deeper problems within, or the fact that some events may have triggered it, but..." His throat had begun to clump up as he began to fumble his words. He was a trained Soldier, ment to fight until his last breath- not some Public Speaker. He'd have to change that soon, or else he would without a doubt mess up his chances of getting any more allies for the journey.

"Either way, I need your... Opinion, at the very least. I believe that, the deceased of my bloodline- my ancestors, recide within the family sword. And they thirst for Kouri's blood due to the fact they, 'think', that she's responsible for their sufferage over the years. I can't get pulled away from the sword for too long distances without getting exhausted, and I'm feeling their presensce within my own mind- That's, of course, not really the smoothest of ways to start a conversation, I know, but... Yeah. I trust you more than I trust anyone else aside from Kouri. What do you do, to clear your mind of any troublesome thoughts or pestilences that are bothering you?"

Phew, that's the worst part out, at the very least. Now, the second part of this whole fiasco. Hopefully he didn't bore her to tears with his very human problems, but he had to atleast get it out to someone that had a sense of authority in the area he was reciding in. He marched on with his words, determined to atleast have his voice heard. "The second problem, is regarding Kouri and my feelings for her. I know she hates having admirers and those things chasing after her, I've heard all the tales of them through my parents. But I can't tell if I'm going to be a threat to her, or hinder her progress. I've seen Samuel caress her, and there's without a doubt Hanus has got something going for her, heck, wouldn't surprise me if Amaia somehow got involved."

"I don't know, I can't tell if I love her, or if I lust for her and I dare say that my feelings would just block her from progressing- and that my curse would weaken her off spring if I ever got lucky enough for that." His pride took a huge smash in when he finished his sentence. He obviously wanted to have children, and to make sure they never had to go through the training he had to, but... He felt hopeless. What if he never got children? And with whom? Who would want to know when their child grew to the age of eighteen they'd suddenly sprout hides instead of skin. Fun way of getting divorced, that's for certain. But this was all in the end tied to the one thing that showed his loyalty to the throne- his right arm. He wanted to bring it up. And so he did.

"Lastly... Do you please, think that you could fix my arm if the gods were to be weakened? The curse should be directly linked to them, don't you think? I want to be able to walk amongst my own kin without getting looks of either pity, fear, or hatred based upon this god damn reptillian hide. I want to live like a normal human once my service has been completed, but this will only mark me down. I know you carry a great power in this grove, and the fact you were able to teleport me away even though I'm resistant to magic's without a doubt astonishing to me. Wouldn't that mean you could very well undo what the gods did to my ancestors- and me, all those centuries ago?"


The whole grove seems to grow a little colder, just a touch, as Kiune listens to the spiel given before her. The usually warm look in her eyes reflects that of colder seasons, as she steps closer. "This is not a fairy tale." She mutters quietly, as the wind kicks up behind her. It blinds him momentarily, forcing him to take a step backward. The moment he's able to open his eyes again, he would see her about five feet away, his family sword in her hands. The sheath was several feet away, behind him--presumably blown away in the wind. "If this was imbued with spirits, the mages around you--Kouri included--would have felt it. This is just a stick of metal, worn down from hundreds of years of age." In a simple movement, the breeze kicks up around her, and the blade snaps in two at the pommel. If he tried to stop her, he would find the wind would kick up and hold him back from her, maintaining the distance.

"As for your arm, it would be difficult, but I could fix it now, child. A mere curse from a god of the Heavens is infantile compared to the total sum of my power. I am a Demigod, child. Perhaps even the Illusionist in your group could, if he were given the proper texts, and a few soul gems." As if to prove her point, she raises her arm. A small bird pops out of her sleeve, and flies away. "I can create life. To modify it is child's play to me... However... I could never remove the bloodline's taint. That stays with you until the Gods are banished. When their influence is gone, your descendants will be free from the curse. Additionally, after you leave this grove, I cannot guarantee that the Gods would not curse you again, though it would take one of their angels reaching you and casting it upon you once more."

Her hands ball up into fists, her look cold enough to send a chill through his arm. "As for your lecherous feelings, all those who wish to give life possess them. Lust is normal, it is natural, it is part of love itself. However, you have a life beyond your ancestors, and beyond the princess. I was alive in her time. I saw her decline suitors. It wasn't that they admired her, it was that they had nothing else to give but their admiration. Typhon, then, took it a step further. He pursued her, he did more than lust for her--he built his entire life around her. For years after she vanished, he would descend to the surface and search--walking into villages and killed anyone who looked at him and suggested she were gone. His life became nothing but her. He lost his mind entirely to rage. As you are doing now, with these... Voices you claim to hear. Do you really think I would somehow fail to notice them in my own domain? They are not real. They are in your mind... Are there any other realities of yours I can shatter today, child?"

It seemed rather clear that he had angered her.

Relief went throughout him as he heard her explanation. Even though parts of him felt that he had angered her, he couldn't help but feel his hopes get up. Apart from the apparent voices that he was hearing- now proven to be nothing but a result of conflicts from within. He was still terrified due to the fact he began to hear them to begin with. Perhaps a direct result from being told his entire life had been all but a lie, could've triggered something close to this. Yet... When she was there, holding the blade, he felt exhausted- or was he just anxious? Either way, it was a mind game. And Baldrik had to overcome it. Kiune's words were a stern lesson in life, but it was one that he had to hear.

Once she was finishing up her sentences he bowed his head to her. A part of Baldrik felt fear against her, knowing that he'd have to shape up if he would ever be able to leave the grove in this state. "Kiune, your words bring fear and wisdom to me. I must beg your pardon for what I've done, and thought, that've angered you. I promise to you that I will never harm Kouri, or her companions, no matter what comes to be. I may have to speak to a few of my traveling allies regarding how they cope with things, to develop some form of defence for myself."

He looked her over, knowing the full magnitude of how he had alone using his tongue, had angered her. He wasn't entirely certain why most of the folk in these lands were angered so quickly by words that weren't necessarily insulting anyone. Was this the land's customs? Of course, he got royally mad when Dean had insulted his ancestry, but that was because he insulted a- his family members. Could Kiune have taken that to be the case when he spoke about Kouri? "Right. Well, Kiune, I wish to thank you for clearing these things up for me, so that I can solve them before they become an actual problem. As for the arm..." He shot a glance down at it, before looking back up at her. It was still growing back some of the skin that had fallen lose during his encounter with the cold, and the flesh-to-air contact that was going on was a constant reminder to cover it up or seek someone to heal him. That'd be good for later. Plus he'd get to talk to someone while they're fixing it.

"Kind of funny, how once perception of the world can change within just a few conversations with trustworthy people." He felt bitter, but he knew there was nothing else he could do to fix things. People have been angered, some would most likely avoid him from now on, all he could do was keep going. Perhaps the new arrivals to the group could help him with his ordeal. "But, I do suppose it's best if I put aside what I feel. Wouldn't want to make Typhon have expectations of me. Once Kouri's safe and her Kingdom's rebuilt, then I suppose I should ask of you to fix my arm. Until then, it's better I carry it as a form of a reminder. And for what defence it may provide me in the darkest of moments."

The wind builds up quickly, once again blinding him. "Be sure that you do not harm her." The moment he could see again, he would find that where she once stood, a pile of leaves now took its place.

He nods to himself quietly as he hears her warning. Abandoning the group was off-limits now, especially with the ever looming presensce of the Angels possibly gutting him on the spot for information, or his rendering his soul useless. Worst part was, he had information. Vital information- or so he believed. He knew where the location of the 'Temple' was- or, atleast where they're heading, plus there'd be a lot of snow. And he knew that the Gods would love just that- their one and only weakness, sprattled down on a map. Suicide was another option, but who was to guarantee his soul didn't just end up in the care of a god? The only conclusion he could get from his deep inner thoughts was that he needed to stay alive until the Gods had been weakened. After that, he thought... What else was there he could do? Settling down wasn't something he'd do unless it was with a specific person, and that was off-limits. Second of all, he has essentially traveled across a world he thought he knew, and yet now that was shattered as well. And he was mentally unstable, that much was proven. Third... Perhaps he was just supposed to be a soldier and fulfill his duties by letting his blood spill onto the battlefield one day. There are many people who have yet to come home from being enlisted as a soldier.

Baldrik realized that grumbling over the words of others and his own belief weren't going to get him too far if he just stood there doing nothing whilst thinking. He began to head back to the front of the house in order to meet up the new cast, or those interested in interacting with him. Although with the shattered blade now left there, he felt a part of him dying ever so slowly. Just as the ages would wear down that blade now, so would his mind. Death was the only escape to this torment that was his broken reality.
 
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No Slavery!
A collab with Grothnor and Princess Kouri (@Brovo)​

It wouldn't take long for the Princess to find Grothnor. From the look on her face it was clear that she had something to talk about, something which was distressing her. "Hello Grothnor. I need to ask you, what did the King's Rangers do in order to recruit you?"

The orc knelt before his new master, slightly surprised at the straightforwardness of the Princess, though he tried not to show it. “I was bought, your majesty,” he replied.

"Did they inform you that I don't keep slaves?" Kouri replies, coldly. Her anger didn't seem directed specifically at Grothnor.

"I was told that once I served you to your satisfaction, I would earn my freedom, your majesty." Grothnor kept his eyes glued to the ground.

"I do not wish to make you my slave. Therefore, from this day forth, you are free." She replies, simply, and gently. "If you are to join my cause, I want it to be because you chose to do so, not because you were obligated or forced to."

“Your majesty, I do not want to have a choice. It is...” He struggled to find the right words, “easier, safer. Freedom is just as much a burden as slavery, and I am good at being a slave.”

"Life is burdens." Kouri replies simply, as she looks out into the sky. "What if..." She seems to mull it over, trying to figure things out. Her face lights up as she stumbles upon an answer. "... Were you informed that the archangel Typhon has sworn an oath to kill me, and anyone who aids me?"

Grothnor could only respond to he princess' counter argument with a thoughtful grunt. He was not equipped to debate further than the sayings and axioms that his masters had drilled into him and was unable to argue his point effectively, much to his chagrin. When the princess asked about Typhon, Grothnor almost snapped back at her, “As well he-” before remembering Chilum's warning. “I beg your forgiveness, you majesty. No, I was not told this."

She pauses, and raises an eyebrow. "What were you going to say before?" She pauses, and sighs. Taking a somewhat more commanding tone, she speaks again. "Say it. I cannot have someone who will not speak their mind."

“I...” Grothnor faltered, clenching his fists, grateful that he was looking at the ground. “...I meant to say that Typhon is right to... pursue you, your majesty.” He luckily found a diplomatic word in time. Hopefully it would not sound as bad as 'punish'.

Kouri turns away and walks a couple steps, placing her hands behind her back. Nonetheless, her hands seem to have a small bit of frost upon them. "I see." She whispers, barely audible. She then turns and speaks, with her pleasant, political demeanour. It is louder to match. "Realize then that even if I freed you, that you would be forced to travel with me to earn your freedom from the wrath of the Gods. Do you understand?"

“So I am either a slave of you or a slave of fate?” He thought for a moment before nodding. “That is acceptable.”

"Then I can free you, and you don't have to worry about losing responsibilities, or failing to earn your freedom. The King's Rangers... Have most likely put you in a suicide mission, Grothnor. I won't lie to you. Even if you run, the Gods will hunt you down, and kill you." She nods and walks in front of Grothnor. "Now stand. If you refuse to accept the freedom I give you, then at least be useful and speak your mind. Speak to the others. Be free in this group at least, for we are all bound together by this common cause. Be proud, don't grovel before me... What were you before this?"

The orc stood to his full height. “I was a Gladiator for five years, your majesty. I won much gold for my last master. Before that, I was a soldier for...” He scratched his head, “Five years, I think, maybe six.” He looked at her and paused for a moment; this close he was fully able to appreciate her striking beauty for the first time. His speech faltered again, but only momentarily. “I... am trained in fighting and have killed many before. I know nothing else.”

"So then you are already bound to war, and duty. What need have you for slavery?" The Princess speaks aloud, almost seeming to muse to herself as much as she was speaking to Grothnor. "You will earn your freedom. Not from I, but from the Gods. Consider it a greater accomplishment if nothing else." She turns to leave, then glances back at him to add one last thought, and smiles a little. "Perhaps with your freedom, you may learn something other than violence."

Grothnor grunted. "We shall see."
 
Ignas and Kouri - A Verbose Introduction
A Collab with @Brovo

Ignas saw many interesting looking people he wished to speak to, particularly the dark-haired fellow who seemed to be bursting at the seams with magical power, but another drew his attention now for the sake of propriety. Princess Kouri appeared to be finishing up speaking with someone else, so the timing was rather perfect. It took him but a cursory examination to feel that she was a skilled mage in her own right, which fit the stories about her prowess with ice magic. He hurried toward her with long strides and stopped a few arm lengths away to bow, torso lowering to parallel with the ground and right hand over heart, a gesture of respect beyond just that of a bow that he had learned somewhere in his shrouded past. It was not something he did often, but meeting royalty always seemed to him to warrant it. He rose but kept his eyes downcast, for some memory tickled the back of his mind, something about how making eye contact with royalty without being invited was considered uncouth and disrespectful.

"Princess Kouri, it is an honor to meet you." Ignas was using what he thought of as his formal voice, kept steady and to the lower octaves, polite and serious. "My name is Ignas Durant, and I am at your service should you deign to have need of it."

"You are, perhaps, nobility? Yet I do not recognize your family name. You at least flaunt such things." The Princess bows her head politely in greeting. "Normally I would refuse out of courtesy, but given the unfortunate circumstances, it appears clear that refusal would be a fool's thoughts. You may look at me, I care little for the formalities that discourage honest words."

"Ah, very well." Ignas looked up and met her eyes, pausing for just a moment as he got a clear look at her face. He'd thought the stories must have exaggerated her beauty among other things, but he could see why it would drive the hot-blooded men of the shorter lived races to write songs and tales that endured through the centuries. "I do not have any reason to believe I was counted among nobility in any period of my life, just accustomed to their ways through proximity many years ago, though perhaps I was and simply did not care to write such a detail down. I was not as assiduous in keeping records in centuries past as I am now, sadly. I am not sure this is even the name I was given as a child, in fact. Ignas Durant is a slight morphing of words in my native tongue that would translate to 'enduring flame' in this language, which as far as my research has found is not a normal naming convention of--"

Ignas cut himself off and bowed his head to Kouri, clearing his throat. "Forgive me, I sometimes ramble about things of little import to others. When he looked up again he was wearing a tentative and embarrassed smile. "Ah, in the spirit of brevity, I will say that in this instance I am pleased by the impracticality of courtesy. Your goal, which as I understand it is to remove the gods in some fashion, is an admirable one and it is my pleasure to be able to help in whatever way I can. Aside from my abilities in the magical realm, I am quite familiar with many languages both spoken and written and, excuse the joke that is perhaps in poor taste, I have surely forgotten more about the ways of the world than most ever learn and that which remains in mind and writing may be of some use. Please do not hesitate to ask should you have need of my assistance in any matter."

The Princess listens with patience, and replies with a soft tone. "I would naturally ask if I felt there was something I needed aid with, but I will keep your... Eminent qualifications in mind." She pauses, then returns his gaze, curiosity in her eyes. "Why do you wish to banish the Gods?"

"There is a phrase I read in my journal the other day, from a rather.. dark period of my life, though it lies beyond the veil of my current memory. Extrema malis extreme remedia. (Extreme remedies for extreme evils.) I believe Renaltan nobility was well versed in that language? I admit to holding some ill will toward the gods for the flaws they instilled in my people, but that is only a small part of my motivation." Ignas' voice grew stern as he spoke on, changing gradually from the pleasant ramble of a scholar to something better suited to a judge delivering a harsh sentence, and though his face grew harder as well his gaze was clearly not focused on Kouri "People have become enslaved to evils of one kind or another, to the point that it seems life itself is nothing but a disposable commodity even to the average man, and only great change might free them from this state. War, slavery, murder, rape, torture, all are justified out of hand by ordinary men and women every day. I do not know if the gods are responsible for these problems, but they are either unwilling or unable to solve them. If they are unable, then their continued presence is only a hindrance to those of us who would change the world for the better. If they are able but unwilling, then they are malevolent and are a source of evil that should be removed. The world as a whole is stuck in a stagnant pool of filth and violence, and I wish to free it one way or another. Banishing the gods may not be the answer, but it is at the very least a good first step."

Ignas blinked owlishly a couple times before clearing his throat. His eyes refocused on Kouri as his face slid back into a genial smile, though his hands clasped loosely in front of his waist were noticeably shaking. "Ah, there I go rambling again. All these years and I still haven't mastered the art of succinctness. I trust that satisfies your curiosity?"

The Princess nods, a look of curiosity yet still in her eyes, but a smile of satisfaction on her face. "I don't mind. What you said sounds rather wise, and I wish I had heard it before... All of this. Is there anything else you would like to get out of the way, Ignas?"

"Only to say that your storied beauty, while understandably acclaimed in song and story, is outshone by your poise. It has been many long years since I spoke with someone whose noble bearing matched the nobility of their blood. I believe you shall make a fine queen when this business with the gods is concluded." Ignas bowed to her once more, the same way as he had upon greeting her. The shaking of his hands had subsided as he spoke, and the genuine smile on his face as he rose to face her again indicated that he was not simply speaking empty praise.

"I hope so." The Princess replies honestly, as she smiles politely. "One can only hope that your studiousness mind might be used to great effect. Thank you for the complement, nonetheless."

"You are most welcome, and I believe neither of those hopes will be in vain. Ah, I should go get to know others of this little band of adventurers rather than taking up all of your time. Good day, Princess." Ignas bowed yet again before departing, and before he had gotten very far he remembered his chat with Kasienka, reached into his bag, and pulled out his journal. Despite his statement of intent to get to know others, he wandered about the mansion grounds reading whilst walking, wholly absorbed in the words written by his hand in ages past.

Amaia and Marcus - A Spot of Training
Another Collab with @Brovo

Amaia had spent a lot of time this morning thinking about a certain conversation that needed to happen, but she still wasn't comfortable with the idea of actually doing it. Marcus was one of those she had insulted and looked down upon for being different, and he seemed pretty cold, so it was entirely possible it would be an unpleasant talk. There was nothing for it but to try and see how it would go, so after ambling about for a little bit she forced herself to approach when she looked over and saw Marcus unoccupied. She stopped about ten feet in front of him and lifted a hand in a little wave to get his attention.

"Uh, Marcus, can we talk? It's about what happened with the weird dream test thing."

When she walks over to Marcus she would find him sitting on the grass, eyes closed. He seemed to be quietly contemplating a few things, but the moment he hears her voice, his eyes open. He stands up slowly, then turns to properly face Amaia. Raising an eyebrow, motions for her to continue.

"Sorry for interrupting, uh, whatever you were doing. I mostly just wanted to thank you, and to apologize. I don't know if Kiune's dream thing would have killed me, but it sure as hell felt like I came close to dying. Before that I thought you were, I dunno, some kind of monster because of how you look, and I was kind of a cunt because of it. But you helped me anyway, so, uh, thanks. And sorry for throwing a dagger at you and saying rude things that one time. I probably shouldn't have done that."

He shrugs and motions to the training area he made the evening before. It was only a few feet away. "You have much to learn, if you will allow me to teach you."

"Oh." Amaia looked between him and the training area in confusion. She'd expected some kind of gruff acknowledgement, or maybe him just telling her to fuck off. All she'd been thinking about was Kouri's admonition to try to be a better person, and learning fighting skills didn't really fit into that... but if she was going to make it through this mission to banish the gods and help reform the King's Rangers, then she'd probably have need of some real fighting skills to survive. Amaia nodded and started walking over to the cleared area.

"I'm not really good at the whole fighting thing. I prefer stealth and surprise to take things down, and I only really know how to use daggers and throwing knives. I guess I do have a lot to learn."

Marcus checks the straps on his shield. He then rests his hand on his blade as he walks into the makeshift fighting circle. "Come then, try to hit me with your daggers." He taps his armour. "It won't hurt me."

Amaia nodded and drew her blades, moving forward slowly. She immediately had some regrets as she realized that she was almost certainly about to be made to look like a fool, and probably take some bruises in the process, but backing away now would make her seem a coward. There was no totally good option left, so he figured she might as well go for the route that might end up benefiting her in the long run. Her slow walk forward turned into a dash when there was only a few arm lengths between them, and as she got close she went to jab a quick feint toward his shield to keep it busy while swinging around wide with the other dagger to try for a stab to his unprotected side.

In one deft movement, Marcus not only blocks Amaia's strike, but slams his shield forward into her. With his greater weight he's easily able to send her off her feet, rendering her second strike fruitless. He then raises his armoured knee and connects with her jaw midway through her fall, sending her sprawling to the ground and momentarily dazing her. By the time she regains her senses, she feels the weight of his knee pushed against her chest, keeping her down as he kneels on her. His red eyes glare down into hers, but not in an unfriendly sort of fashion--more seeming to measure her response. "Now we are even for the dagger." He grins as he gets off of her, then offers her a hand to rise to her feet. "Do not charge someone who is bigger than you. You are faster, granted, but I am stronger, and fast enough. You would benefit more waiting for someone else to engage your opponent, or using the terrain to gain some sort of equalizing advantage. You will learn, because I would prefer you not to die."

It took Amaia a few seconds to gather the wits to realize why Marcus was offering his hand, then she gathered her dropped daggers in her left hand and took his assistance to get to her feet with a groan. "Well fuck me, if you call that even then I never want to have you get one up on me. Lesson learned though, no running at big guys that can swat me like a fly." She spat off to the side, surprised that the coppery taste in her mouth translated to only a slight pinkish hue to her saliva. She reached out with her two daggers held in one fist and rapped them lightly against Marcus' armor. "I've never tried to really hurt someone wearing plate, and I don't think I can hit hard enough to punch through it with my daggers unless I'm charging in like an idiot and put my weight into a stab. Is there anything I can do about that, or would I need a bigger blade to stand a chance?"

"You should never wish to engage a fully armoured man in melee combat with a dagger." He points to connecting points, where straps are keeping his armour together. "However, if you have no choice, aim for the points that pieces of armour connect to each other. The shoulders, the back of the neck, and the backs of knees are usually the most vulnerable on most sets. Including my own." Marcus pats her on the shoulder. "You'll likely need to attack an armoured opponent who is tied down with another fighter, or use your magic, to win."

Amaia's eyes followed along as he indicated each weak point, and she noted the way the plate did indeed seem to provide less protection there than the chest. She could definitely stab through the material there, especially if she used magic to empower her blade to do so. Avoiding those in armor or attacking them only when someone else had their attention seemed like a sound strategy to her. "I don't ever wish to fight someone in full armor face to face, so no problems there. I hope I'll never have to. If it does happens though, well, at least I'll have some idea of where to aim with my daggers. Or maybe I should learn to use a sword to have a real chance in that situation. Hm." Amaia shrugged and rubbed at her sore chin. "Anyway, thanks for the little lesson. I never even thought about how to deal with someone in heavy armor. I might come by for some more learning later, after my ears stop ringing. Getting even really sucks when you're on the receiving end." She shot a grin at Marcus before turning to go, showing that there were no hard feelings for the knee in the face. She headed over toward the mansion, looking for a nice spot to sit while probing her mouth with her tongue to see if she had any new loose teeth.
 
Cennick
Cennick sat hunched on the edge of the bed, furiously buffing out a scuff on his breastplate. A casualty of his recent bout of intimacy. It came out well enough, a little elbow grease and a whole lot of steal polish making short work of the most glaring marks, but a noticeable dent remained. Maybe tearing off the breastplate in a grand flourishing gesture and flinging it across the room was unnecessary, but if Cennick understood anything, it was the value of well timed bit of flourish. With a choice curse word he gave up on the dent, his heart sinking a little as he compared the blemish to the rest of the shining surface. It was unlikely anyone else would notice the dent, even Cennick's trained eye had a bit of trouble making it out when he held the breastplate out at arms length. He wasn't even sure why he cared so much, it certainly wasn't because he was afraid that anyone would find out. Kalemn would no doubt ensure everyone knew of her recent triumph.
One would think she bedded the crown-prince himself the way she beamed as she skipped from the room, as disheveled as she had threatened. To her he must have been a fine catch, a handsome young nobleman with nice hair and the inclination to bathe; Something Cennick suspected Kalemn lacked, the pungent tang still tainting his lips a strong testament. In all sense he should have been ashamed for stooping as 'low' as he had, but sense was not the reason he partook. It was, quite simply, the need for pleasure and 'lower' women were always far more eager to please.

Cennick strapped on his breastplate, fingering at the new dent as if he hoped it disappeared. It had not. He sighed and reached for his pack, after a quick bit of searching producing a grooming kit complete with polished silver mirror. While his partner was content with looking as she had narrowly survived a bear attack the duelist Plucking off some dark, greasy hairs that had clung to his face he went immediately to attend to his own, putting his wide array of combs and brushes to work until he managed to look halfway presentable. Overgroomed even, if the general hygiene of his companions was indicative of what was considered normal. He left the room then and looked over the few folk he could see, talking, walking and otherwise going on in their mornings. He briefly wondered what Kouri was up to.

Oh, right.

Fuck.

Cennick's heart sank into his lower gut and for a fleeting, terrible moment he forgot how to breath. In his dazed afterglow he had completely forgotten about the princess and his apparent duty to her, something he figured she would not take too kindly to. He briefly entertained the thought that she wouldn't find out, but quickly discarded it as hopeful fantasy. Even if Kalemn didn't somehow tip her off, his more nosy companions would no doubt do so.
 
  • History Without Tranquility

    With a sigh Cennick wandered up to the princess, ultimately he wasn't sure what he was going to say or, hells, what he was even supposed to do beyond remind Kouri that he was there. Still, as much as he feared Hanus as a vampire, he still respected his advice and opinions as a man and approached with his head held high, "Hello Kouri, I trust you had an eventful morning thus far?"

    The Princess turns and faces Cennick, and smiles warmly. Out of politeness, she bows her head, momentarily. "Greetings Cennick. It has been, I think, for... All of us." Her eyes fall down to his, as she seems to try and measure his responses. She doesn't betray how she's feeling, keeping up a civil politeness that she had likely been taught how to do for years. "What can I do for you today?"

    Wasn't that just the question, what could Kouri do for him? Have a small chat, perhaps on matters of swords and magic. That's all they've talked about in the past, aside from such messy matters such as their most likely ultimate failure and the following messy death. Of course, such matters were inappropriate to bring up, hells, they were more so inappropriate to bring up at the time he did. "I just wanted to see how you were doing," he spoke truthfully, mostly at least.

    "Ah." Kouri responds, quietly. She pauses, mulling over her thoughts, but her smile seems slightly more genuine with the question. "I am... Better, now, than I was before. And you?" She asks curiously.

    Better, that's about as vague as one can get. Cennick just shrugged, "To be honest, I'm not quite sure. I've come to accept my situation here, I suppose that's an improvement." He wracked his mind for a better way to describe his feelings, but couldn't find the words, "That's it really."
    "Well, that's... Good." Kouri replies, clearing her throat and looking out toward the some of the new companions they had. "You are not used to speaking like other nobles, are you? Why is that?" She asks, curiosity in her voice.

    "Not used to it?" Cennick chuckled at the assumption, "If anything princess I've grown too used to it. The unrelenting politeness, the tiresome diction. Speaking 'correctly' has lost it's once fine pearl luster, the holier-than-thou attitude it brings up is just irksome. As such, I tend to only resort to it in noble's courts and ballrooms, where it's false polish more or less mirrors the vapid nature of the situation." The duelist paused, unsure if he should be really saying what he was saying in front of Kouri, but quickly shoved such reservations aside. She might as well know him as he really was.

    "If you really want to know why I am the way I am, well, it's a long story. Best I can summarize is that my noble heritage is hardly pure and that puts me in poor standing among my fellows. Not very useful beyond being another body. Really I'm lucky I was treated as well as I was. Most would have just been ignored, others even killed. At least I was recognized as a human being." He smirked, "That's it really."

    The Princess frowns. "Purity is something that is lusted for, but can never be obtained." She runs a hand through her own blue hair. "I am not pure. Nobody in my family was." Quietly, she takes a step back. She then raises her hand, and summons a small ball of ice into her hand. Cennick could feel a hint of something, but it was difficult to discern what it was. "This isn't pure either. Nothing is pure, except magic... And magic feels nothing, it thinks nothing. To live is to be impure, and imperfect... Something I wish nobility understood. Many did not even in my time, so I doubt that they have changed much." She tosses the small ball of ice toward Cennick, seeming rather happy in spite of the subject matter. "Others may judge you by what you are. I will judge you for what you do. Does that sound fair, Cennick Greenburough?"

    Cennick deftly caught the ball of ice, but only barely managed to keep a hold on it at first as it stung his bare hands. "In these times judging someone purely on merit is uncommon quality... I can't truthfully say that I'm completely innocent in my judgement of others..." He sighed and rolled the ice ball in his hands, mind wrapped in thought, "How much do you trust Hanus?"

    "I trust him enough to know that if he wanted more than what he said, he would have taken it by now. Several times over." Kouri deftly replies. It was a political answer, but an honest one. She pauses, seeming to mull over whether or not to trust Cennick with her next thoughts. Yet, words came out of her mouth nonetheless. "He sought a reason to die. Now, he's found two reasons to live. If he wanted wealth, he would work for a warlord. If he wanted fame, he wouldn't choose a suicide mission... It narrows the reasons down. So I trust him. Not completely, because I trust nobody completely anymore--but I have no reason to believe him anything other than a man of his word."

    She looks at Cennick, curious, but at the same time, looking wary. "I have heard of this... Liveria, multiple times. However, it was a kingdom that arose long after my time. Yet, it did not take me long to see Liverians seem to share certain... Cultural practices." She seems careful in her choice of words. "How does Liveria treat the other races, Cennick?"

    Cennick nodded along as Kouri listed her reasons, fair they were. Terribly so in a way. Cennick was not entirely sure how long the princess had known Hanus, but it couldn't have been much longer than he had. A couple days at most. He was sure a vampire would be possessed of more than enough patience to wait a few days before getting his fill. What Cennick could not dispute was that, for the moment at least, the vampire was a respectable man and despite all his reservations he decided to just leave it at that, "Fair enough assessment," He chimed coldly.

    "As for Liverian's treatment of non-humans..." Cennick mirrored the princess' mulling and careful choice of words, deciding eventually on just one, "Poor." He let the word hang as he searched desperately for a more complete explanation, "I'll spare you the grim details, but essentially the Kingdom of Liveria only stands because of strict adherence of traditional values and a 'healthy' suspicion of foreigners and non-humans... Most notably orcs and vampires."

    The Princess frowns. "I see." She then seems to ponder another question, briefly. Her curiosity is tinged with something darker. "Were Liverians not once Renaltans? Were they not once my people?"

    "Perhaps once..." The prospect simmered oddly inside of him, as if some genetic memory of national pride took offense to the notion, "I'm sure that if you were to dig through whatever family records have survived the last millennium you'd find that every one originally heralded from the old Kingdom of Renalta, but again, they're a millennium removed from who remain today. That's a long time princess, many generations have come and gone and with them values have changed and evolved. It's just the reality of time." Cennick saw the princess' disappointment in the news and looked for words of comfort, but found only cynicism, "We're our own people with our own culture, if you are successful on your quest - banishing the gods and restoring Renalta - It's unlikely Liveria will merge."
    "I see." Kouri says with an almost bitter sigh. "Just another mountain." She looks out at the sun, which had finally risen high enough to be seen. "... Yet there are so many mountains, now."

    "Mountains you don't have to climb alone," Cennick quickly added, "As trite as this may sound, you're not alone in this. The followers you do have are... Eclectic and I can't fairly say I get along with them all, but I can't doubt their wherewithal to get this ordeal over with. If there's any lot in this miserable world that could banish the gods it's us, if only because they'll be too confused to properly act." He cracked a genuine grin. It was a bold claim, but one he reasonably believed. With a quick flick of his wrist the icy orb leaped from his palm and onto the tip of his fingers.

    "It's a long road ahead, yes. You know that better than anyone else, but in the grand scheme of things it will be shorter than you think. In another millennia's time when the world knows nothing but peace, you, I and most everyone else here will be long passed, but the people of the day will know what we did. We'll be remembered as agents of great good, those who steered the world into the future that they enjoy. Maybe with the erosion of time some details will be lost -with any luck some scribe will record me as a foot taller- but what we did ,what you ultimately led us through, will live on. The mountains that you see today will be eroded down to little more than the stepping stones of heroes." He lightly passed the icy orb back to Kouri, taking a moment to blow on his frosty fingertips, "Of course, that means we're going to have to scale those mountains in our own time."

    She catches the frosty orb, and rolls it in her hand, thumbing it over in thought. "I don't know. I am not bothered by your height in the slightest, Cennick." There was a hint of something in her tone of voice, but it quickly faded as she tossed the ball of ice away. She looks as though she's about to say something more, before she stops suddenly and looks toward the sky. There were clouds, slowly starting to form from thin air--shrinking and growing, as though something was trying to suppress them. "Iterum. (Again.)" Cennick could feel the Princess preparing some magical spells, as she starts running for Kiune's mansion. It seemed something was coming. Something the Princess was familiar with.
  • “If she is who I think she is, we will be fine... Though she may not be the kind of help most would imagine.”
    -Hanus Wolfblood, Page 5.​

    Autumn

    Kouri and Cennick run toward the mansion. Everyone who had even a slight inclination toward magic had felt the appearance of the clouds. They had a sickening feeling. “Go to the stables,” Kiune's voice rings out across the grove. It sounded strained.

    As everyone arrives, they see a far older looking woman. Short, with grey hair, and a wizened look. She stood with a finely crafted looking wooden cane. Cennick would recognize her as Kiune. Beside her, a large dog growled at Beatrice, and the bird seemed amused as she preened her feathers without a single care for the dog.

    “Typhon is coming.” Kouri's voice seemed to hint at fear, though she made an attempt not to show it as she swallows back her fear. “Naturally. I could not hide all of you forever, but it is as I planned.” A look of confusion reaches the Princess' face, but James has a look of enlightenment. “Aha, that is why we are still here. You were waiting for Typhon to leave the mortal realm to use the power of the heavens to get here, weren't you? It would mean he couldn't detect us returning to the mortal realm.” Kiune smiles, a little, though a look of stress is clearly visible on her face. “He will have henchmen still seeking you out. I cannot... Protect you from all of them. Typhon, however...” A distant look enters her eyes. “Nothing should live forever. I'll make sure of that.”

    The Illusionist raises an eyebrow. “Right. I'm supposed to believe you don't have an out. Don't you want to live?” The Druid looks back at him and scoffs. “No truer words to show naive youth than those.” The two stare at each other. Before James can say anything more, Marcus interjects. “We do not have time to wane philosophically about the merits of death. Druid, how do we get the Princess to safety?” The elderly woman motions to a gathering pile of leaves. It is several feet in size, in a circular pattern. “Bring your horses there. The moment you leave this grove, ride northward. As fast as you can.” The Princess glances about her group. “We do not have enough horses for everyone.” Her eyes then fall on Grothnor. “Some of us are not suited for horses, either.”

    The old lady flinches as the clouds in the sky grow a little larger. “Then you will have to make do on your own. Gather your horses and go.”

    Marcus glares at Hanus, then motions toward the mansion. “Let's get everyone's belongings. Quickly.” Hanus nods in agreement, and the two run off toward the mansion.

    As everyone else prepares, Mikan looks upon the old woman with confusion. “Sie waren einst ein Rheinfelder. (You were once a Rheinfelder, weren't you?)” The Druid smiles, knowingly. “Ich war einmal viele Dinge. Nie Rheinfelder. Ich war einmal von Gault. (I was many things. Never Rheinfelder. I was once of Gault.” Mikan clears her throat, and sighs. “Würde Rahim jemals akzeptiert werden? (Would Rahim ever be accepted?)” The woman shakes her head. Mikan sighs and nods, in understanding. “Farewell, witch.” The two share pitying smiles toward one another. “Farewell, orphan.”

    Once everyone prepares, they Kouri swings herself onto her horse. Marcus and Hanus drag everyone's belongings, and start tossing bags to their respective owners. The clouds in the sky start to glow gold, and ripple with thunder. Wind in the area picks up, as everyone gathers amidst the leaves. Kiune looks at her dog, and motions toward the group. The dog whimpers, but, with a gust of wind pushing him toward the group, he eventually obeys and runs over to them. “His name is Kaiser. Take care of him, he will take care of you.” Mikan looks at the dog and tilts her head. “King, huh?”

    The wind kicks up the leaves around them, and the leaves swirl around them. For a moment, they each feel the ground underneath the feet drop away, while they're held in the air by the wind. The wind is powerful enough to force them to protect their eyes, closing them, not letting them see what was going on. Then, in a single moment, the wind dies down, and the party finds themselves back in the mountains once more. They were near the bottom of a mountain, on a narrow trail leading northward. It was the edge of the mountain range—at the bottom of the path it flowed off into foothills. They were likely near Rheinfeld. “Run.” Kiune's voice echoed out to them, before the spell ended.

    “GO!” Hanus yells as he points down the northward path. “We are not far from the bottom!”

    Winter

    Typhon steps into the mansion. It had been a few minutes since they had entered the realm, and there was no sign of his prey. Growling angrily, he walks through the mansion himself, searching each area until only the basement was left to search. He had taken a few angels and Jennifer to search with him, and the entire time, he kept her near himself. As they near the entrance to the basement, the doorway is blown apart as a body flies through it. An angel is embedded into the wall opposite the door. One look at it shows a large, slime-covered spine embedded through it. He wrinkles his nose. “Oportet ea esse Pet. (Must be her pet.)” Jennifer nods. “Etiam. (Yes.)” The two reach the staircase. “Stay behind me, woman.” Once again, Jennifer nods. “As you command.”

    Typhon starts heading down into the basement first, summoning his two handed sword. The moment he takes a single step into the darkness, another spine hurdles up toward him. With little effort he manages to step aside and deflect it. It hurdles toward Jennifer, who raises her shield, only to be knocked back off of her feet and sent falling down the stairs, past Typhon. The shield is visibly dented as she rips it off, grabbing her wrist as tears well up in her eyes from sheer pain. Typhon jumps down the remaining steps and lands at the bottom. There, an old woman, and a several-limbed creature were waiting for him. The creature, who had been moving toward Jennifer, immediately changes its target and moves forward to lash out at Typhon, only to have several limbs cut off in one deft swing. It flinches and squeals in pain, briefly, before being cut asunder by the archangel.

    Kiune sighs. “There are not many of those left. You should have let it help your new toy to her feet at least.” Typhon glares at her, and shoves her up against the wall, as the Silver Shield slowly climbs to her feet. “Where... Is... She...” Typhon says between raspy breaths, exhaling on the old and frail woman underneath his arm. The Druid smirks. “Gone.” Typhon throws her to the ground violently. With enough force that it would rightfully kill a normal person, though Kiune, instead, slowly stands up. He holds her left arm, which she landed on—which was now limp from the blow. “Now, you die.” The Druid states coldly, as the ground underneath their feet starts to shake. The Archangel's eyes widen. “No, no, no... I don't think so. Not here. Not now!” Kiune glances toward Jennifer, and the Archangel scoffs. “I'll find another of her kind if I have to! It matters little now, doesn't it? Her loyalty to me is unquestioned, she would die for me without a second thought.”

    Jennifer looks at Typhon, momentarily looking hurt. The Druid, noticing this, makes a simple motion with her hand, and blows Jennifer back up the stairs. Typhon tilts his head as he starts to approach the small, frail woman. “Go ahead and kill her. Pin her up by the angel there, I don't care.” The Druid smiles. “I think... Life is at its end here, isn't it? For the both of us. Our time in the world is over.” In a single swing, Typhon cleaves her in half, from the shoulder down to her waist. The ground does not stop shaking. “It is for you, pretender of a god. Now... To escape.” He rapidly leaves the basement, and without looking for Jennifer, attempts to escape.

    Spring

    The party makes it to the bottom of the mountain and into the foothills, though it takes them a few minutes of running or riding as fast as they can. The ground rumbles underneath their feet momentarily. Behind them, a piece of the mountain near its peak had exploded. Those with a magical talent would feel as though a door had just closed. As Kouri slows her horse to look back, then grabs her chest, doubling over in pain, gritting her teeth and keeping herself from crying out. So too would Dean, Amaia, and Tahlia feel a deep, profound pain in their chest—sharp, as though someone had just hit them with a war hammer and broke a rib. The pain subsides after half a minute, but it nonetheless draws attention.

    “Princess?” James looks her over. She straightens herself out, and looks at him. “I'm alright now.” After a brief skeptical look from the illusionist, he nonetheless turns back to look at the debris shot into the air. “I wonder if that was intentional. Perhaps it will draw further attention away from us.” Mikan looks between the two. “Maybe, but, uh... I vote we keep moving. Maybe not at a running pace, we can't keep that up forever, but, a brisk walk. If we keep heading north, past the foothills, we'll reach a forest. I think. Assuming we are where I think we are.”

    Nonetheless, the moment appeared to finally have at least a brief moment to pause and look back at what happened.
  • “If she is who I think she is, we will be fine... Though she may not be the kind of help most would imagine.”
    -Hanus Wolfblood, Page 5.​

    Autumn

    Kouri and Cennick run toward the mansion. Everyone who had even a slight inclination toward magic had felt the appearance of the clouds. They had a sickening feeling. “Go to the stables,” Kiune's voice rings out across the grove. It sounded strained.

    As everyone arrives, they see a far older looking woman. Short, with grey hair, and a wizened look. She stood with a finely crafted looking wooden cane. Cennick would recognize her as Kiune. Beside her, a large dog growled at Beatrice, and the bird seemed amused as she preened her feathers without a single care for the dog.

    “Typhon is coming.” Kouri's voice seemed to hint at fear, though she made an attempt not to show it as she swallows back her fear. “Naturally. I could not hide all of you forever, but it is as I planned.” A look of confusion reaches the Princess' face, but James has a look of enlightenment. “Aha, that is why we are still here. You were waiting for Typhon to leave the mortal realm to use the power of the heavens to get here, weren't you? It would mean he couldn't detect us returning to the mortal realm.” Kiune smiles, a little, though a look of stress is clearly visible on her face. “He will have henchmen still seeking you out. I cannot... Protect you from all of them. Typhon, however...” A distant look enters her eyes. “Nothing should live forever. I'll make sure of that.”

    The Illusionist raises an eyebrow. “Right. I'm supposed to believe you don't have an out. Don't you want to live?” The Druid looks back at him and scoffs. “No truer words from the young and naive.” The two stare at each other. Before James can say anything more, Marcus interjects. “We do not have time to wane philosophically about the merits of death. Druid, how do we get the Princess to safety?” The elderly woman motions to a gathering pile of leaves. It is several feet in size, in a circular pattern. “Bring your horses there. The moment you leave this grove, ride northward. As fast as you can.” The Princess glances about her group. “We do not have enough horses for everyone.” Her eyes then fall on Grothnor. “Some of us are not suited for horses, either.”

    The old lady flinches as the clouds in the sky grow a little larger. “Then you will have to make do on your own. Gather your horses and go.”

    Marcus glares at Hanus, then motions toward the mansion. “Let's get everyone's belongings. Quickly.” Hanus nods in agreement, and the two run off toward the mansion.

    As everyone else prepares, Mikan looks upon the old woman with confusion. “Sie waren einst ein Rheinfelder. (You were once a Rheinfelder, weren't you?)” The Druid smiles, knowingly. “Ich war einmal viele Dinge. Nie Rheinfelder. Ich war einmal von Gault. (I was many things. Never Rheinfelder. I was once of Gault.” Mikan clears her throat, and sighs. “Würde Rahim jemals akzeptiert werden? (Would Rahim ever be accepted?)” The woman shakes her head. Mikan sighs and nods, in understanding. “Farewell, witch.” The two share pitying smiles toward one another. “Farewell, orphan.”

    Once everyone prepares, they Kouri swings herself onto her horse. Marcus and Hanus drag everyone's belongings, and start tossing bags to their respective owners. The clouds in the sky start to glow gold, and ripple with thunder. Wind in the area picks up, as everyone gathers amidst the leaves. Kiune looks at her dog, and motions toward the group. The dog whimpers, but, with a gust of wind pushing him toward the group, he eventually obeys and runs over to them. “His name is Kaiser. Take care of him, he will take care of you.” Mikan looks at the dog and tilts her head. “King, huh?”

    The wind kicks up the leaves around them, and the leaves swirl around them. For a moment, they each feel the ground underneath the feet drop away, while they're held in the air by the wind. The wind is powerful enough to force them to protect their eyes, closing them, not letting them see what was going on. Then, in a single moment, the wind dies down, and the party finds themselves back in the mountains once more. They were near the bottom of a mountain, on a narrow trail leading northward. It was the edge of the mountain range—at the bottom of the path it flowed off into foothills. They were likely near Rheinfeld. “Run.” Kiune's voice echoed out to them, before the spell ended.

    “GO!” Hanus yells as he points down the northward path. “We are not far from the bottom!”

    Winter

    Typhon steps into the mansion. It had been a few minutes since they had entered the realm, and there was no sign of his prey. Growling angrily, he walks through the mansion himself, searching each area until only the basement was left to search. He had taken a few angels and Jennifer to search with him, and the entire time, he kept her near himself. As they near the entrance to the basement, the doorway is blown apart as a body flies through it. An angel is embedded into the wall opposite the door. One look at it shows a large, slime-covered spine embedded through it. He wrinkles his nose. “Oportet ea esse Pet. (Must be her pet.)” Jennifer nods. “Etiam. (Yes.)” The two reach the staircase. “Stay behind me, woman.” Once again, Jennifer nods. “As you command.”

    Typhon starts heading down into the basement first, summoning his two handed sword. The moment he takes a single step into the darkness, another spine hurdles up toward him. With little effort he manages to step aside and deflect it. It hurdles toward Jennifer, who raises her shield, only to be knocked back off of her feet and sent falling down the stairs, past Typhon. The shield is visibly dented as she rips it off, grabbing her wrist as tears well up in her eyes from sheer pain. Typhon jumps down the remaining steps and lands at the bottom. There, an old woman, and a several-limbed creature were waiting for him. The creature, who had been moving toward Jennifer, immediately changes its target and moves forward to lash out at Typhon, only to have several limbs cut off in one deft swing. It flinches and squeals in pain, briefly, before being cut asunder by the archangel.

    Kiune sighs. “There are not many of those left. You should have let it help your new toy to her feet at least.” Typhon glares at her, and shoves her up against the wall, as the Silver Shield slowly climbs to her feet. “Where... Is... She...” Typhon says between raspy breaths, exhaling on the old and frail woman underneath his arm. The Druid smirks. “Gone.” Typhon throws her to the ground violently. With enough force that it would rightfully kill a normal person, though Kiune, instead, slowly stands up. He holds her left arm, which she landed on—which was now limp from the blow. “Now, you die.” The ground underneath their feet starts to shake. The Archangel's eyes widen. “No, no, no... I don't think so. Not here. Not now!” Kiune glances toward Jennifer, and the Archangel scoffs. “I'll find another of her kind if I have to! It matters little now, doesn't it? Her loyalty to me is unquestioned, she would die for me without a second thought.”

    Jennifer looks at Typhon, momentarily looking hurt. The Druid, noticing this, makes a simple motion with her hand, and blows Jennifer back up the stairs. Typhon tilts his head as he starts to approach the small, frail woman. “Go ahead and kill her. Pin her up by the angel there, I don't care.” The Druid smiles. “I think... Life is at its end.” In a single swing, Typhon cleaves her in half, from the shoulder down to her waist. The ground does not stop shaking. “It is for you, pretender of a god. Now... To escape.” He rapidly leaves the basement, and without looking for Jennifer, attempts to escape.

    Spring

    The party makes it to the bottom of the mountain and into the foothills, though it takes them a few minutes of running or riding as fast as they can. The ground rumbles underneath their feet momentarily. Behind them, a piece of the mountain near its peak had exploded. Those with a magical talent would feel as though a door had just closed. As Kouri slows her horse to look back, then grabs her chest, doubling over in pain, gritting her teeth and keeping herself from crying out. So too would Dean, Amaia, and Tahlia feel a deep, profound pain in their chest—sharp, as though someone had just hit them with a war hammer and broke a rib. The pain subsides after half a minute, but it nonetheless draws attention.

    “Princess?” James looks her over. She straightens herself out, and looks at him. “I'm alright now.” After a brief skeptical look from the illusionist, he nonetheless turns back to look at the debris shot into the air. “I wonder if that was intentional. Perhaps it will draw further attention away from us.” Mikan looks between the two. “Maybe, but, uh... I vote we keep moving. Maybe not at a running pace, we can't keep that up forever, but, a brisk walk. If we keep heading north, past the foothills, we'll reach a forest. I think. Assuming we are where I think we are.”

    Nonetheless, the moment appeared to finally have at least a brief moment to pause and look back at what happened.
 
((Just missed deadline. Takes place just before GM post directly above. Thanks.))
Dean and Kouri

Dean left Rahim's company still sporting a bemused look. He was unsure if it was the man's 'to-the-point' attitude or the mutual respect they shared that made him happier. Whatever the source might have been however was cut off and replaced with an entirely new feeling as Dean spied the Princess. He was filled instead with a loathing sentiment he couldn't figure out. Throughout the trip he had seen her in a strange way. He didn't hate her, how could he? He'd only just met her and she hadn't done him any harm. Yet at the same time he couldn't bring himself to his knees the way Baldrik did, or swoon after her as Samuel had. The conversation with Mikan quickly sprung to his mind, and he took a deep breath. "Princess, if you could spare a moment?"

"Yes?" The Princess answers quickly as she turns to face Dean. Seeing him take a deep breath, she blinks, then smiles warmly and bows her head politely in a more formal greeting. "What do you need, Dean?"

"Well, to say I 'need' something is a poor way for me to word it. Rather I've just felt like I owe at least one apology for being... Difficult... or maybe stubborn, since we met at the pond." He began feeling nervous for a second as her familiar air of formality reared its head. Suddenly he became acutely aware of his hands, and how nothing he seemed to do with them seemed natural. One reached across his chest to rub his shoulder and that seemed to calm the other as it rested on his belt.

The Princess chuckles and shakes her head. "All is forgiven. I would rather hear what is on your mind." She places her hands behind her back, and continues to speak with formality. "Did you really come to me only for an apology?"

"My mind? Princess after the night we all just had I think it's fair to say we all have loads on our minds." Dean squared himself in front of the Princess as she gracefully moved about and kept her posture. "Maybe that's playing a hand in this apology as well, but guilt's a powerful thing to have knawing at me. I'd rather swallow my pride than be at odds with someone for no good reason."

"I... Admit, I don't particularly remember being at odds with you, Dean." Kouri replies simply. She shakes her head and walks a few steps further away from the mansion. "Whatever guilt you feel, I cannot absolve you of it. What I can say, though, is this. I have valued what you have had to say, and you were really nothing more than passionate. I can understand why. All of our lives are on the line, every day we live, everywhere we go. One wrong choice could end someone's life here... But, that is on my shoulders, Dean. Not on yours. Don't carry that burden, I need you the way you are: Fiercely opinionated."

Dean reached out slowly to one of Kouri's sleeves and tugged at her wrist with a smirk "Angry looks and frosty sleeves didn't do much to hide your frustration before we entered the Grove. I caught the look before Jennifer arrived, and I wanted to clear the air, that's all. But if you say things are fine... then perfect." He looked as if he were about to laugh at first, but his mood grew more somber as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Princess, it's my belief that the wrong choice by any of leading to the downfall of all of us is the exact reason it's a burden we all now share." He said with a sweeping gesture to the party gathered in the yard. "I can be fiercely opinionated and carry my own share of the burden. And I won't let you or anyone else wallow in despair about decisions that may play out poorly in the future. We have to work as a team, and that means we'll all succeed or fail together.”

"Perhaps." Kouri replies quietly, as she looks at him briefly, and smiles. The smile melts away to a more grave expression as she glances out toward the trees of the grove. "I will shoulder the responsibility for failure... But if you wish to help me with it, I cannot say I will decline it." She turns and looks at him, eye to eye. "We can argue, that's okay. Just, try... Not to do it when we are attempting to, say, avoid the aggravations of someone who could turn hostile quickly."

Dean stood tall for a moment, his eyes not wavering from hers with a warm smile on his face. "Well I'd be a poor friend if I didn't help you with it. So you can consider that an extended offer whenever you're in need." He glanced away as she brought up his bickering in front of Jennifer, but did not shrink. He hadn't felt that he had been wrong, and still found himself wondering how things might have happened if they had dispatched the Shields in the forest. He shook his head to bring himself into the conversation. "To spare us a pointless argument I say we agree to disagree on that one, but I can appreciate the thought behind it."

"Thank you, Dean." The Princess replies softly. It seemed a moment of genuine happiness beneath the political masquerade. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

"Nothing especially pressing that comes to mind, and if there's nothing you need of me I can leave you to what must surely be a busy time." He said as he glanced around at the new comers to the group.

The Princess giggles and nods in thanks. Her tone remains soft. "Don't be afraid to speak to me in the future. I find our conversations rather interesting."


Dean and Kasienka

Dean approached Kasienka after he had noticed she was along for a moment. He moved slowly, not wanting to startle the elf, but he couldn't quite find his voice to call attention to himself. He collected himself for a moment and tried to make a show of clearing his throat as he got behind her. "Uh, Kasienka... I... This will be a bit... I'm not sure how to phrase this to be honest."

Kasienka could hear Dean approaching before he arrived, and turned to face him before he spoke. She smiled and spread her hands away from her waist, inviting him to speak more without interrupting him.

Dean would jump as she turned to meet him before he spoke up. Her unnatural ability filled him with a mixture of excitement and nerves. "Right then." He stated bluntly and took a deep breath. "I want to learn magic, of magic, how magic works, or how to use it. Whatever you can share, I'd like to know."

Kasienka tucked her bottom lip between her teeth, trying to think on how to address this with Dean. She tried to reach out, to sense what sort of potential Dean may have. She paused, not wanting to spoil her attempt to soon. This would be a long process, and so she lowered herself to sit with her legs folded.

"I will teach and show you what I can, but what you request is not a quick lesson. It will take weeks, months, even years of training. Even when you are born setting off sparks and changing the colors of their swaddling clothes.

"Additionally, I cannot teach you any other school of magic than the one I am learned in. If you wished to learn something that's more... Practical during a battle, you would do best to speak to someone else. Anyone proficient in magic can show you the very, very basic steps to learning. If you sit with me, I will try to start leading you through the process." Her voice was calm through out her spiel, smiling up at the man before her. She was always eager to teach someone new, but each pupil required a different strategy.

Dean joined Kasienka on the ground sitting with his arms crossed casually around his knees. "I've trained with this blade for four years. I'm no where near where I'd like to be, and I know it might take the rest of my life to get to a point I’m happy with. Nothing worth anything ever came easily. I've never sought anything to be solved quickly and this won't be any different." As Kasienka reflected on the limited uses of her magic, Dean frowned for a moment. "You're unnaturally strong, even for an elf unless I've missed my mark. I think you might be selling what you have to offer a bit short."

She blushed at the odd compliment, then shrugged a shoulder, "I am stronger than I ought to be, you are right. Over the centuries I have used my talents to enhance what my body can do, but it took more time that I could have ever guessed when I first set out to make myself sturdier, more resilient." She paused, worried that she may have made Dean uncomfortable. The resiliency of her race was always a sore spot."In any case, I will give you the precursor to the first lesson now."

Kasienka closed her eyes and laid the backs of her hands on her knees, focusing on pulling her magic out of her core and shaping it. It slowly spread down her arms, seeming to make her veins briefly glow, before coming out of her fingertips in lilac tendrils on the right, and golden on the left, swirling around each other in helixes until all ten met in front of her, and formed a small sphere that spun and twisted. It only lasted for a few seconds before she let out a deep breath and it all seemed to tear back to its origin. "My magic resides in me, and I shape it to my bidding. I know how to bring it forth to give paltry light shows for little ones, but more often than not I bend it to quicken the knitting of flesh and mending of bone. Even when I am not reaching for my art, I know it is still within."

She reached out one hand and laid it on Dean's chest. "As children, eves are taught to reach within and find our core, to find where our arts reside and slowly pull them to the surface so that we may learn to live with this integral part of our identities. You will have to do the same."

Dean adjusted himself so that he was sitting in much the same way Kasienka had been when she had drawn out the tendrils. He closed his eyes lightly, nervous of leaving himself defenceless in her presence, and tried to concentrate. "Is there something I should focus on? Something that might help find my core, so that I can try to pull it? Because I'm not sure I have one of those.

"Everyone has something to pull on. It may just take them longer to grasp it," she brought two tendrils back to focus, making them dance and sway around each other as she spoke, "Some, I have heard, think of home and how things seem magical in that place, while others think of times when they felt that what had happened could not have been explained by anything besides their magic trying to surface. A child in a village I visited tried to call upon the time he lept farther than he ever had before, while another little girl said her stitching needle had moved too quickly. It is the small things that allow us to find our core."

Dean's head would sink at the mention of home, clearly not comfortable with the subject so soon after the events of his nightmare. He tried to put the thought out of his mind and focus on anything that might fit what she had mentioned. "I'm not sure there's ever been a moment like that in my life..."

Kasienka tried to find new examples, but none immediately came to her. She finally let the magic slip back into her as she went to rub the back of her neck. "Well... Has there been any moments where something turned in your favor at the last second? Did someone miss you when they certainly should have hit?" She was reaching for straws, but it was something. She didn't know hardly anything about the man's history, so she had nothing to draw on.

His eyes fluttered open and he had a grimace on his face. He looked up to her slightly confused. "It was four years ago that I left my home to serve Ryker. Since that day I cannot possibly have counted how many times I should have died, yet didn't. Magic can't have saved me as many times as I've been spared." He began feeling uncomfortable on the ground, and frustrated at his inability to progress.

Kasienka shrugged, looking at Dean with a soft smile, "Perhaps it was. It's a place to start. This takes a long time, Dean. It doesn't happen immediately. You'll find a way to your core, I am certain of it. You just need to find time. Reach for your core and I am sure you will find it."

Dean rose to his feet and brushed dirt off his pants “Thank you Kasienka, you've given me much to think about, but I think it might be easier to reach my core in private thought… I'm… not comfortable with being exposed in this way.” he managed to squeak out before turning around to leave, without giving her an opportunity to reply.
 
Kasienka

She knew the peace couldn't last forever, but she didn't think it would end as abruptly as it did. Before Kasienka ran after the men she ran up to Kiune and stooped low enough to take the woman into a strong embrace. She kissed the Druid on both cheeks then moved forward to whisper into her ear, "Vous allez me manquer (I will miss you)."

Spinning on her heel and using the extra strength she had bound to herself years ago, she was able to catch up with Marcus soon enough, then pass him and begin scouring the rooms for anything the group may have left. She wasted seconds of her precious time diving under Mikan's bed and retrieving some Kouri doll clothes, and then again when she grabbed the quilt she had wrapped Amaia in earlier that morning. The bags she had collected were quickly given to their respective owners, or tied to mounts if she could not immediately find them. She pressed the cloth into the women's respective hands, squeezing them gently before rushing to grab her own mount.

She swung up onto Dirge in one fluid moment, her own bag already strapped to him. She was ready to ride him hard and fast in whatever direction Kiune put them in, but saw a mop of messy golden hair just below her foot. Kasienka swept down and pulled Windy up with one arm, sat her between herself and the pommel of the saddle, and moved the trio to be in the middle of the pack. Everyone was in range of her healing abilities this way and she could keep an eye on us about everyone with little difficulty.

The dog was a nice addition, but left a sour taste in Kasienka's mouth. It made her farewell to Kiune seem more final, if she was willing to give up her companion. Seeing how hesitant the creature was, she gave a sharp whistle in an attempt to call it to her side. At least she would be able to speak to it in the language it was likely most familiar. She rose one hand in a final goodbye to Kiune as the leaves picked up, then used the arm to shield her eyes as the glade was removed from view.

Their landing was smoother than she had expected, but the princess crying out and an explosion were far from what she expected. Reaching out to try and find the source of the princess's pain was futile, as her mind was instead filled with an image of a door slamming, catching a dried leaf against the latch. The leaf dissolved on the impact, and the dust that was left of it disappeared in a gust. Kasienka had to choke back a sob, instead clearing her throat and looking towards Mikan when she spoke.

"I agree. We should keep moving while we have an opening. It would be wasteful to throw away the advantage Kiune gave us, but exhausting the horses and Krasnyy would result in the same wastage."


Chilum

The chaos almost overwhelmed him; he had no horse to claim as his own. He was stuck in the middle of a rushing crowd with no idea where to go. Rather than allow this to get the best of him, he who had survived the Free Holds and rioting mobs larger than this, Chilum put his scarf back around his head and drew his sword, ready to whatever was required of him. He hurried to Kouri's side, his eyes darting about as she got onto her horse and received her bag from one of the oddly colored men who had rushed into the mansion. He would not dare try to join her on her horse, but he would stay along her side so long as she would allow.

When the time came to finally leave, he saw the woman that had greeted him so many years ago and felt his heart grow heavy. No matter if she escaped her fate, as James had alluded to, he knew he would never see her again. Chilum stood tall beside Kouri, his blade still drawn, and braced himself for the magic to take him. He heard Beatrice react to the canine they had been granted, but ignored it for the time being. The bird had already given him enough to think about today.

There was no time to offer the woman a proper farewell before he was on a mountain and struggling to keep pace with the others. He fell behind Kouri in hardly any time, and soon was in the very back of the group, barely managing to keep from falling behind the last horse. For this he was glad that he at least had a means of defending himself. He caught up with Kouri a few moments after the explosion, bent over, and threw up on the side of the path, leaning against a tree to keep his balance.

Chilum knew he shouldn't have run that fast, used what reserves he had been building up over the past few weeks. He had meant to save what he had. Instead it was left behind him. He would have to rest for a good while. He shook and wiped his mouth then stood up tall. Anyone with the ability to sense magic would have felt it about him when he ran, but in the heat of the moment he hadn't thought about it at all.

All he could do was bob his head in agreement to Mikan's plan, giving a sheepish grin towards the dark haired lady and Kouri. "Considering that I am not the only one without a horse, I agree with Miss Mikan here. I can keep up a brisk walk for ages, but running like that again? I would be more useful as bait."
 
"Again?" Cennick managed to question between labored breaths as he ran after Kouri, "What is that supposed to mean?"

He quickly got his answer, between the incredibly unfamiliar feeling of a magic surge, the strange clouds and Kiune appearing in what he supposed was her 'true' form he manged to discern what was happening barely a second before Kouri had announced it. Typhon. His hand went for his longsword, but he didn't draw, instead thinking to his earlier confrontation with the druid, "...I want my last gift to the world to be a good one." A grim finality now tainted those words and with it a more grim realization of how true she intended them to be. He gave a simple nod and turned heel, running to the stables with the knowledge that he'd never see Kiune again.

Nuelle stood contentedly munching at a feedbag as Cennick found him, the black colt seemingly unphased by the chaos that now gripped the grove. The only indication of awareness he gave was a disgruntled winnie as Cennick clumsily saddled him and clambered onto his back. He thought of checking on Kouri, but figured that she was well taken care of. Best he could do right now was take care of himself.

He coughed and spat out bits of leaf as he was deposited at some point on the mountain and rode hard at the suggestion of Hanus. Nuelle barely kept up to the swifter horses and, notably, Chilum. So much for saving his tricks. He reached the foothills with a sigh of relief, as much danger as being in Rhinefeld put them it was a great feeling to finally get there. A journey that had only taken a couple of days had enough excitement to fill a couple of months.

Finally, it's over.

Then an enormous explosion ripped the earth and a mountain exploded. Then four of his companions, including Kouri, fell doubled over in pain.

This was not worth the sword.
 
(This post is set before the party left Kiune's Grove)

(A Collaboration between @Grothnor and @West)​

Baldrik Larsson sighed as he looked around the group. It appeared that none of them had any pressing matters with him, and thus realized that he'd have to take responsibility for getting atleast something done to build a form of friendship with the others. The Orc Grothnor hadn't truely been interacted with that much, and the Bard seemed a bit pre-occupied for the time being. The Dwarf, maybe... He wasn't entirely sure, but he decided to approach Grothnor at first. He bowed to Grothnor, his mind ticking left and right as he tried to grasp a way to start the conversation without either offending him, or getting his 'spirits' to talk mungo-jumbo again. "Greetings, Grothnor. I'm Baldrik Larsson from the Northern parts of this world. I wish to speak to you regarding your... training. What are you proffecient with?" He decided that, hey- Orcs like War, and to survive a war you'd need training. And perhaps Baldrik could learn a thing or two from the Orc that he didn't know. Although the voices in his head was buzzing at him, not with their stingers pointed to his brain, but more just trying to buzz at him... To annoy him. "I myself specialize in using the Musket and one handed swords." He reached over for his sword's sheathe, realizing that it was missing still. He decided to unsling his Musket, allowing the Orc to see it whilst keeping the barrel pointed to the sky.

The orc didn't know what to make of the young human who befriended him; the man had an unnatural scaly arm, and was showing off a bizarre weapon. “Is that a club? It looks like it'll break easy. Too fancy.” He unslung his weapons to show his off as well: a simple hatchet and a rough length of tree branch. “Weapons don't need to be fancy, just sturdy. If I can swing it, I can use it.”

"Oh, it doesn't really work like that. It's more like..." He quickly reached over for the ramrod at the top of his musket, and began to jam it down his rifle's barrel. He tapped at the inner part of it, before pulling the ramrod back out again. Reaching over for his gunpowder satchel, he took ahold of some of the gunpowder and poured it into the breech, allowing it access into the gunpowder already stored within the rifle. He raised the gun upwards, and pointed it down towards the ground- just a few meters off from where he was. He made sure there were no pretty floewrs close by (In case Kiune'd kill him for it) and lightly squeezed the trigger. Suddenly, a loud boom was heard from his rifle, a screen of smoke quickly covering up Baldrik's figure with the smoke produced from it. In the ground, there'd be a large hole with pieces of lead buried deep within, the dirt kicked about left and right. "A rifle. It fires a projectile from the pipe, and if you point it at a fellow... Their death is almost always assured, as long as you hit them. Quickest way to end a fight before it even begins. Only downside is that it's really loud, and takes a while to reload. If you're not used to it, that is." Baldrik stood up proudly, although him standing next to the Orc still just showed how tall the Orc was in comparison to Baldrik. He realized what the Orc had said, and smiled slightly. "And, hey. That's pretty nice assortment of weaponry. Most folk don't realize how much simple wood can hurt if you get the right guy to swing it." He chuckled towards his own comment, but none the less seemed happy to see someone swinging a tree branch at his foes.

The bang of the rifle caused the orc to flinch in surprise. He scowled as he inspected the damage. “Certainly deadlier than a club, but still too fancy. An archer could've cut you down twice in the time it took to use that thing.” However, his scowl softened into a thoughtful expression. “Still... good to know that such magic weapons exist.”

He shook his head slightly as he heard the Orc's initial response to him showing his firearm. Some of the voices suggested trying the Rifle out on him, to see if he'd be standing after a shot from the supposed 'Archer'. Coming back to his senses, Baldrik shook his head violently to rid himself of the voices- just enough to hear his second statement. He spoke up once more, trying to ignore the suggestions his voices were whimpering towards him: "Aye, the thing is that this weapon's operable to anyone, even if they can't use magic. Like me." Baldrik reached over for his pouch, opening it up to reveal the gunpowder inside. "It uses Gun-powder to propel the projectile forward, and a lead-ball to deal the damage. Simple as that, anyone can use it." Another thought entered Baldrik's mind, and it was of course less violent as oppose to what the voices were suggesting for him to do. "Say, Grothnor. You seem to be an experienced warrior. You ever come close to the grace of death? And if you have, what was it like?" He leaned up against his Rifle as he put the butt of the rifle down on the ground, leaning against it whilst paying full attention to the Orc.

“'The grace of death'?” Grothnor scoffed, “There's nothing graceful about almost dying. There's a lot of pain, blood and then you pass out, hopefully after you kill the other guy.” He paused to think for a bit, but continued. “When I'm fighting, everything's a blur of instinct and action. My mind thinks of nothing but how to survive the next few moments.” He was slipping into memory and getting lost in thought. “Pain just sharpens that blur, makes everything clearer, makes everything in the world pointless, save for me and anyone who hurt me. The more pain I feel the clearer things get, and then, when I manage to get close enough to reach my opponent...” The corners of his lips curled. “...I let go, and the world goes blank and becomes... emotion.” He refocused on Baldrik. “When I gather my wits back, that's when there's the blood and pain and passing out. Does that answer your question?”

"It does twicefold. You must've fought for quite a lot of people. You think there's going to be a time where you can put up your weapons? From warrior to warrior, I've been trained for sixteen years for just war and guarding Kouri. And yet, now... She tossed me aside, and I'm unsure what to do with myself." Baldrik glanced up at Grothnor, his eyes exposing a slight hint of weakness in his mental capacity. He came to talk to Grothnor and get to know his character- thus far, he saw a veteran warrior who had seen the horrors of war for himself. But he also came for advice, perhaps for a purpose to seek to once his duty was finished.

Grothnor sighed. It was just like his conversation with his battle brother Feled all those years ago. He had lied to Feled, telling him that once their war was over, things would return to normal, that they could hang up their swords and return to dreary but safe labor. Feled died in battle next morning. “I have no words of comfort. Ours is not the comfortable life. We are warriors; we were born to kill and we will die killing. If you want to find something to live for, do so after you win your freedom from Fate.” He looked away and scowled. “You are human, no? You will find something.”

"Perhaps. You don't believe you have a chance of happiness either, Grothnor? I mean, the old ones tend to survive longer than fresh-cut recruits. You might survive long enough to see the end of this war of ours." Baldrik gave him a more uplifting look, trying to appear atleast a bit happier than he was before. Although the confession that Grothnor brought only made him feel sick to his stomach. Yep, even an experienced warrior admitted to it: He's just ment to die one day... He brushed his emotions away once he realized the voices were returning, shaking at him quietly with their chains. "Right. Well, atleast you can rest easy knowing that I consider you a good pal. You don't sugar-coat things as far as I can tell, which is something I like for a change."

Grothnor could only grunt in reply. Things were quiet between them for a moment before Grothnor said, “Well, if you ever want to talk, or something...” he smirked wryly, “...bring ale.”

He could only smirk back at him, giving him a well deserved nod. He seems to only really know how to nod- perhaps from a lack of actually engaging in the culture that this area was in. "Aye. I'll have to ask a gal to hand it back. Strongest stuff we have in the Northern Regions, I tihnk a man of your stature would enjoy it. Well, Grothnor. I suppose it's best we prepare to move out. We don't want to stick around here for long." Baldrik turned around on his heels. Before waltzing off, he gave Grothnor a light wave, and after that, truttled along to the insides of the Mansion.
 
Rahim

After the brief peace shared between himself and Mikan, Rahim took a moment alone to try and focus on the magic of the flower, given to him by Kasienka. He had carried his belongings with him for some time, including the flower, and as he tried to focus on it; he felt something in the back of his mind when the loud voice of Kiune directed him and everyone else to the stables. He watched the exchange between the aged druid, and the various leader-figures of the party. The druid was quick to give them instructions about fleeing the area, and Rahim found himself eager to get going. The talk of Typhon’s reappearance was enough to make him wary, and he was eager to progress.

He moved to his horse, his pack already on him with the minimal belongings that he owned. Only his axe needed to be returned to him, thrown to him by Marcus as he mounted the horse he’d borrowed since the King’s Rangers. The beast seemed comfortable enough with his weight, despite his ample bulk. He directed it towards the circle, keeping an eye out for Mikan, the Princess, Dean, and Windy. The first two were of a more personal concern, as they were the two he needed to keep an eye out for the most; Dean was someone he trusted enough to have his back, and making sure he was close would ease his mind; the worry about the Gnome was that she would be slow without a horse.

Without much warning, the magic enveloped the group and Rahim closed his eyes to avoid being buffeted by the wind. The sickening drop made his stomach turn, and he was glad that he’d not feasted much since arriving at the Druid’s home.

It wasn’t until the whispers of ‘Run’ echoed from the druid did Rahim open his eyes to witness the change of landscape. In the mountains between the Renaltan remnants and Rheinfeld. He quickly looked around the group and saw that everyone seemed okay enough before he heard Hanus’ order to move, and he kicked his horse into motion.

At the bottom of the mountain, he pulled on the horse’s reigns just in time for the loud explosion to rock through the air. His horse struggled against the loud sound, and he pulled on the reigns harder, overpowering the beast in an attempt to steady it. He overheard the small conversation between James, Kouri, and Mikan. The need to get to the forest made sense to him, and he tapped his ankles against the sides of the horse, pushing it forward. “I will move on ahead. We should not waste time.” He said, hiding whatever thoughts or emotions he had in regards to the passing of the Druid. He kept his grip on his axe though, in case the group were ambushed. After all; Kiune had mentioned the possibility of mortal agents. If any should appear, they would meet the axe of an Amazonian barely containing some very pent up anger issues.
 
Amaia - Fear

Amaia was still sitting and recuperating from the blow to the face when she felt the nastiness from the sky. She wasn't very good with magic, but even she could feel something horrible going on up there, and that meant it had to be something big. She pushed herself up and jogged over to the stables, finding on the way that fear and adrenaline had steadied her in a way that the bit of rest hadn't managed. That fear clenched its fist tight around her heart as she heard Kouri speak the name of the threat, but that soon abated as it became clear that Kiune had planned for this. The talk of death made it clear that the plan involved some finality on her part, but Amaia was too busy worrying for her own life to care about someone else's.

When Hanus and Marcus headed for the mansion, Amaia was right behind them. She made it to the little room she'd thought of as hers for the short time they'd been there and found her belongings as she'd left them: all packed up and ready to go at a moment's notice. It was an old habit from her days living on the streets of Liveria, where it was impossible to know when some angry guard or bigger street kid was going to come and chase you out of whatever little corner you'd claimed as your own, so anything you cared about had to be kept to hand at all times. Amaia also took a moment to pat herself down and check that all her knives were in place, which did seem to be the case. She hurried back out, and a short time later Kasienka came and shoved a quilt into her hands. That was rather odd, but there was no time to really question it. She slung the thing over her shoulders and waited tensely for their departure, staring up at the churning sky.

Once the magical wind abated and the group was suddenly not in the mansion any longer, Amaia needed no encouragement from Hanus to run. She was on her way before he'd finished speaking, feet pounding against rock and dirt as fast as they could carry her. She'd completely forgotten that she had taken a horse from the King's Rangers, but then she didn't like the animals or know how to really ride them anyway so she was fine with running. The horses managed to outpace her of course, but she fared better than some of her fellow runners and ended up near the head of the pack as the ground started to shake and they all slowed down.

Before she had time to do much more than stop and glance back, confused by the feeling of magical closure, a strange pain struck her out of nowhere. She dropped to one knee and clutched at her chest, gritting her teeth and hoping this wasn't some kind of attack from Typhon. Once it passed and she looked around, seeing the others who had been subjected to the dream tests, Amaia realized it was probably something to do with Kiune dying. She recalled hearing something, in someone else's conversation with the druid that had been shown to the rest, about how they were in her mind or something like that. Obviously the four selected had some kind of connection to the woman that had caused the pain, but with her meager magical knowledge Amaia had no idea what that meant.

There was no time to stand around and worry about that though, so Amaia pushed herself to her feet with a grunt and nodded in agreement toward Mikan. "We need to keep moving. There might be more of those Silver Shields people around here looking for us, or maybe others." She made sure the quilt draped over her shoulders like an overlarge scarf was relatively secure, shooting another puzzled look at Kasienka, then turned to keep on walking north. "I'd hate to get away only to die because we stood around talking like idiots."


Ignas - Exhaustion

The malevolent feeling emanating from the clouds snapped Ignas' attention upward and away from his book instantly. He closed it and carefully replaced it in the satchel hanging by his hip, all while keeping his eyes upward. Anything that could forcefully intrude on Kiune's grove was not something that he wanted to fight alone, and so he headed for the stables without any hesitation when he heard her voice directing everyone to do just that. The strain he heard did not bode well, and he supposed there could only be one logical answer to the source of the threat. The confirmation at the stables did not surprise him.

Ignas hurried over to the leaves while others dashed about. He had all his belongings on his person and no horse to his name, so he was left to stand there and watch the hateful sky as frantic preparations were made. As he did so he felt an unfortunately familiar dull ache building in his temples. His hands began shaking and he clasped them together in front of them in a vain effort to still them. His breathing grew quicker and shallower as he thought of what might happen if Typhon broke through before Kiune could send them away. Flashed of scenes of gore, blood on the sand and burning buildings, zipped through his mind as the panic steadly grew. The leaves swirled and Ignas clamped his eyes shut to find more of those images of violence awaiting him, scenes that he couldn't identify as memories or fabrications of the moment, but all following that same theme of death and destruction in a desert landscape.

He remained stock still even after they arrived into safety, still stuck in that tortured daytime nightmare, until Kiune's voice came one last time. Her directive to run pushed him to open his eyes and stare about in bewilderment for a moment, and Hanus' call to run got his feet moving so quickly they seemed to have their own mind. He ran as fast as he could down the mountain trail, focusing on that rather than the dark thoughts of moments before, though within a minute he already felt himself tiring. In days gone by he could have kept up this pace for many minutes without being very winded, but it seemed his recent years spent in mostly sedentary conditions had ruined that. There was nothing for it but to keep it up and push through the pain, so that is what he did.

Ignas did not slow down until he felt the rumbling and the accompanying feeling of a magical connection being severed. By the time he stopped he realized he'd ran ahead of the others as they all stopped when the rumbling started. He walked back toward them, breathing heavily, and looked up at the damaged mountain. Once he stopped, bent over with hands on knees, he managed to get a few quiet words out between breaths. "Repose en paix, Kiune. (Rest in peace, Kiune.)" Ignas felt a strange sense of envy for the demi-god, for she had managed to end her life with an act of hopefully positive change. As he stood there, trying to catch his breath and letting the others talk out their plan, he was filled with a twisted hope that he might be able to follow in her footsteps one day.
 
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