Legend of Renalta: Reborn (IC)

[Player2]

Hal gave an odd look to the new girl as she gave promise of a gift. Hal'd been around long enough to know most of these “gifts” and he wanted no part of any of them from such a scrawny creature. Although, the way this meal was smelling, perhaps he'd accept some sort of gift. Perhaps that rather wicked looking scythe on her back. Quite a rare weapon to see strapped to a ladies back. Or a man's for that matter. Hell, the last time Hal had seen a weapon like that was when a farmer tried to run him through after a bar fight. Tried, and succeeded only in losing his head. Hal pondered upon just how efficient the lass was with the weapon as she deposited food onto the table. Seems his inquiries would have to wait.

Ham and eggs were an absolutely wonderful way to begin the day, and Hal, like the black garbed lass in front of him, quickly took a seat and began quickly to devour the bowl in closest proximity to himself. The girl ate at a rate that rivaled his own, and the half-orc liked to make sure he'd gotten enough food in him to keep his body going for a long while whenever food presented itself. Especially when it was quite good. From the conversations that bounced across the room, it seemed everyone was bright eyed and bushy tailed, though not many of them were partaking of the fine meal before them. More for the handsome half-orc and lady cook then.

It seemed Marcus was intent on sharing his knowledge of combat now that his hood had been torn away, which brought Hal's thoughts to how his soldier in training was doing. Given his absence from the room and the immediate outdoors, and the way he was excluded from Mikan's listing of the group, he guessed that the peasant had called it quits. Or been eaten. Didn't make much difference really. Lost one, gained another. If she fought as well as she cooked, Hal would be happy to have her along. As Sylvie and Mikan began to banter though, he quickly retracted his decision. It was like Mikan had magicked up a twin, albeit with different taste in hair and eye color. If the two had anymore energy they'd likely explode in a shower of multicolored light.

Hal decided it best to play it safe and take a bowl outside lest his imagination become reality. That, and he was rather interested to see what it was Marcus intended to teach Ishcar through Alex. That, and it was always good to know how your friends fought, lest they became enemies. It happened surprisingly often, and with the way people drifted in and out of the little group, the likelihood was all the greater. So, Hal took a seat in the grass, took a deep breath, and waited for the show.

[Tempest]

Brent smiles at the compliment to his rugged charms, but it falters rapidly when she gives Hal the same compliment. The edge of his lips jerk down in slight dismay that she has such terrible taste, to say someone with such an ugly mug is handsome. As she speaks of a reward for the good samaritan, a chill goes down Brent's spine at the terrible pictures his mind could conjure. Quickly, he makes a slight space between himself and Sylvie, but the damage is already done. He could feel it, upon his back and clear through his duster. It burns and and stabs all at the same. He knew this sensation, the death glare of a banshee scorned and ready to devour your soul. On one note, it conjures a smugness within himself that Mikan would be so upset with his indiscretions. At the same time, it unsettles him that his travel partner may have a vindictive nature.

He sits down at the table as Mikan begins about what may fare in Rheinfeld and he glares at her comment about herself and Sylvie being anything less than stunning. Kouri had been alright before her transformation, but the green-haired punk and the newcomer were something else. The comment about him being possibly liked in Rheinfeld disturbs him, however. He had passed through once already and his findings of the behavior and conditions were not to his liking. The scum of the world had leaked through to the surface so a brief visitor such as himself could spy it without searching. Mikan's tales from the night before rind in his mind's eye and he grimaces. To be accepted by such bastards is disgusting, so does she think so badly of him? Even after he saving her life and providing her with two wonderful nights consecutively?

Alex takes a seat a tad removed from the group when she makes her way to the dining area. She listens quietly to everyone as they go about their day. Ishcar appears to wish to pamper Kouri like some prize pet with his comment about sewing a blanket. Her eyes flicker to his yellow sack and a brow crooks in curiosity. Normally she would have noticed something like that sooner, but she supposes such a detail had flown under her senses with everything going about. Thinking of bags, she snatches hers off form the floor and rummages around for something to munch. Though, she notices there is a fair portion missing. She lifts her eyes to the group and gives everyone a questioning look before shaking her head and taking out a loaf of bread and pouch filled half-way with berries. Tearing off a chunk, she tosses the rest to the group so everyone else might partake in her meager offering.

Mikan mentions something about Kouri's eyes and she looks up in surprise. Last night she had looked directly into those eyes and they had been black through and through. To her horror they were now blue, and they were supposedly this hue prior to their meeting. “Beautiful blue-eyed babe, huh,” she mumbles to herself in consideration. She shakes her head and tilts back in her chair, stretching. The tension between Brent, Mikan and the girl who calls herself Sylvie appears to be escalating even as Mikan discusses the general Rheinfelder greeting to expect ahead. At the mention of herself, she cannot resist the urge to smirk despite the overwhelming idea that any of the women, Ishcar or Brent may unintentionally stir up trouble along the way. A thought occurs to her, however, “No o'fense, Isolde, Kouri, but we'll 'ave t' get ya new garbs. Ya both'll jus' stick out too much. First time we stop in a parish, we attend a tailor's. I'll pay if it means we won't get caught for 'kidnappin' proper women o' the court' or wot nonsense.”

She sits back and listens as Sylvie goes into a tantrum and for a moment, she considers staying put to watch the cat-fight to ensue. A morning brawl such as that would never be permitted upon Val's ship, but it was a welcome event in any seaward pub they partook after docking. However, as Marcus offers her a chance to spar, she cannot keep from grinning like a Cheshire cat. Without hesitation, she moves to her feet and follows after the tiefling, Ishcar tailing just behind. Carefully, she discards her extra equipment and stretches her limbs in preparation. “Any rules for this fracas?” She stares him down with a wry smile, wondering if he ever fought a pirate before.

Marcus glances back to see Alex discarding extra equipment, a bit of a disturbing smile crosses his face, as he unsheathes his blade and grips the handle with both hands, tightly. "Aside from not killing each other? No. Why have rules in a fight when others would not provide such a.. Courtesy."

With a slight nod, Alex removes her sword from its scabbard. Her eyes scan the area, searching for anything she might use in the battle. The ground is nothing but peaty moss and patches of grass, but there are numerous trees with low-hanging branches if she absolutely finds it necessary. ”Fine by me,” she calls, dashing forward, intending to slash at his leg that had been injured the previous day, aiming to learn whether the elf girl had healed it entirely or not.

Elsha had done a fine job of healing it, mostly. It did still feel a little sore, but it wasn't anything that Marcus couldn't just ignore. As Alex rushed forward, blade in hand, Marcus' smile faded, and what little humanity he had in his eyes dwindled. He brings his blade to defend himself from her oncoming attack, putting his good leg in front and angling himself to provide her less to actually strike at. That, with the overly large blade and armour, should suffice.. At least, in his mind anyway.

A shame, his leg is fully functional, so relentlessly attacking from that side would yield no advantage. As his blade goes down to defend, her upward arcing sword blade connects and begins to slide off. Without a second thought, she jerks her body to his opposite side. As she shifts, her body turns so that the leg that had previously been on the outside slams into the back of his knee in an attempt to knock him down. While this is all going on, her off-hand has released the sword so that her other might extend out and tip the blade to point inward, ready to pierce into his side if he fails to act.

She goes for his knee. How predictable. She was quick, though. So, as she slams her leg into the back of his knee and focuses her attention on a quick finishing move, Marcus prepares in advance. He moves his blade, following her movement, and the moment she closed in to hit his knee, he moved to knock her blade out of her hand with brute force. Mind you, her strike at his knee did set him off balance, but all the speed in the world wouldn't help her when she chose to use it to strike him.. Especially when she let go of her blade and left it with one hand.

With the blade moving, she thrusts her free-hand against his back and pushes. It was too late for her sword, as it is cast off in another direction, so her goal is to get some distance between his now far greater reach. As she shoves herself away, she ends up on the ground and rolls, but quickly shifts back unto her feet in a crouch. Her heart races as she looks between him and the sword, Marcus being in between herself and the object.

Marcus doesn't make a sound as he is shoved forward, the previous blow to his knee having knocked down to just one knee. He quickly gets back onto his feet however, and turns to face Alex. He didn't seem to be in any hurry, and like a patient predator, merely kept himself between her and her blade. He wasn't putting his full weight onto his knee, though.. "Very fast.. Though your agility helps you little when your actions are so straightforward." His tone was almost mocking her. He wondered about her own patience.

Alex laughs slightly, trying to figure the best course to get her weapon back. Jumping over him would prove difficult between his height and reaction speed. There is simply no way she could avoid the deadly length of that sword. As she takes in his odd stance, she wrinkles her nose. If it is a trap, she risks losing. It is what he is expecting, she realizes, taking out from her sash the only other object she had kept in her artillery: a single dagger. She edges forward slowly, finding the best angle. As she rushes forward her mind lays out the following plan. She would act as if she were going towards his knee. When he moved to react, these would be her actions. If he goes to strike at her first, she'd dive and tumble out of the way, reaching her weapon. If he goes to defend, however, she would proceed through until the last second before changing course and leaping to the object of her desire. Whatever she does, she knows she has to get it back upon a more even field.

She wouldn't be suicidal enough to strike him head on with her dagger. She wasn't Ishcar. No, she would go for her weapon.. Still, he waits for her to close in for his knee, and then strikes out with his knee in an attempt to hit her before she could roll away.

When she comes closer, attempting to attack, Marcus' knee comes up and strikes her square in the chest. She grunts as she begins to fall back, but not before hooking her other arm behind his knee and pulling with all her strength.

Marcus is yanked down with Alex, although ironically her arm around his leg would end up with his leg pinning her arm down. A look of almost devilish delight crosses his face, although he flinches as his knee is suddenly jolted with the force of hitting the ground with Alex' arm. It was sensitive, already. Marcus was down on one knee, at this point, with said knee holding down one of Alex' arms.

A low growl leaves Alex' throat as she is pinned in front of Marcus by the arm. She might be strong, but there is no way she could throw his weight off of it, especially not with her awkwardly being upon her knees. She drops the dagger and places the arm against her leg and pushes, her hand of her trapped hand curling so she could pull in opposite direction, the being to twist his knee outwards. Her face distorts as she feels the armor jabbing into her arm, but she persists.

Marcus tosses his blade aside, and grips the wrist of her hand attempting to push his leg off. She appeared angry, and his devilish look faded. She was faster, he was stronger. There was no way she could stop him of just pinning her down and ending it now as his other hand reaches to grab the wrist of her pinned arm, in a meagre attempt to give his knee a chance to reposition itself.

”You're strong,” she mumbles, shifting her legs so she is on the balls of her feet. As he goes to move his leg, it gives her enough clearance to shift, so she lets her arm go lax and tugs it as much as possible despite his grip. She jerks against him, trying to break free, but his arms see like manacles holding her tight. Instinctive terror begins to bubble up from within, causing her to struggle against his grip before she thrusts her leg up to his collarbone and pushes.

Marcus grits his teeth as she pushes into his collarbone, even with the armour, that wasn't exactly a strong point. "You're clever." He retorts, as he brings his sore leg behind himself and begins pushing forward. Since she was pushing on his collarbone, she had no clear good footing. Which meant that he could shove her knees into her own chest. "Give up. You're done."

As the pressure threatens to put her knee to her chest, she shifts the leg on his up to his neck. Her other leg begins to slip on the moss. She shifts her foot into the ground and twists her legs so that Marcus continues to push forward, but she attempts to push him downwards. After a point she cannot move any farther with his hands around her wrists, but he'd have to let her free to shift anywhere else. “Let me go already and we'll be done,” a growl is at the edge of her voice, but at the same time there is a slight whimper from her desperation to escape.

Marcus lets go of Alex' hands and then pushes her foot off of his neck. He coughs as he does so; Being that position was more than a little uncomfortable. Still, a quiet chuckle could be overheard by Alex if she was listening for it. "Not bad.. Not bad at all.." Marcus slowly starts to stand up, but flinches as all the stress he put on his bad knee is now coming back to haunt him. "Starting to get too old for this. Fah."

What comes after Marcus releases her wounds her ego, as she stumbles forward, no longer having a restraint on her pushing. As she lands on the ground, she rolls over onto her back. Alex remains there, looking up at the bright blue sky and allowing her lungs heave to not only catch her breath but ease the hysteria back. It grinds on her nerves slightly that he is laughing after all of that, but as she calms, she finds a bit of joy in getting a good scrap in. She shifts her arms, wincing at the pain all the way to her shoulders, to prop herself up to at least look at him. “Wot's my excuse, then? Almos' losin' t' some geezer, hah,” she laughs, getting to her feet and dusting off the various bits of dirt and plant. “I'd say we ought t' do it 'gain soon, but then wot use are we gonna be?” she smirks, bending to retrieve her blades.

"Who knows." Marcus slowly stands up, forcing his injured knee to take his full weight. He could ignore it, and it was one way to learn how to ignore pain when needed. He walks over to his sword, a bit of a limp in his walk. He bends over, picking it up and sheathing it before looking back to Alex. "We are both hunters of prey rare and cruel. We both know that life is pain. For that reason, I can trust you." The sun's morning rays were peeking through the trees, in such a way as to once again cast a red glare to everything. It would last mere minutes, but it spoke volumes to see Marcus and Alex bathed in bright red.

For a moment, her amber eyes glint red in the light. Yet, his comment earns the elder warrior a nod and a pat on his shoulder after she stashes her dagger once more. “Not ev'ry day a demon tells ya somethin' like tha',” she teases, but stops after remembering Ishcar. “I 'aven't really seen Ishcar in a fight, but Hal an' I were paired at tha' cave. We have bloody mages out the wazoo, but are we gonna be able to hold off if a slew o' crusaders com after us? Rumors of Rheinfeld. . . an' them knights. . . Will a fireball o' Kouri's even connect?” Her eyes seem steely for a moment as she realizes just how deadly these lands may prove if the crusaders were truly the King of God's men, blessed so that magic would not harm them. Yet, these things may just prove rumors. . . She silently prays they are.

"Hm.. Crusaders." He looks to Alex, trying to cool her nerves a little. She was skilled, although her survival instinct was overpowering.. Which could ironically prove to be her downfall. "Crusaders are.. Egotistical, honour-bound, and uncreative. While skilled and brutal warriors, they have never done well in foreign lands for the very reason that their honour prevents them from understanding the cunning tactics which lay in wait for them." He looks back to the forest. "So long as we do not shake their foundations, we shall never be in true danger."

Alex leers for a moment, considering the new information, yet he had failed to qualm her primary concern. She shrugs, “I'll find my answer soon 'nough, then. After all, I came across ya when the princess out t' kill the gods was taken by a necromancer wit' a pet dragon.” She figures her response gives no misgivings on her opinion of getting to the coast with no confrontations. She picks up her gear and begins to secure it back into place upon her body. “We need to head out soon. The faster we get onto a boat and out of here, the better our chances. . .” she casts one last glance at Marcus, wondering if he might do the same as her if a battle turned a bit too. . . sickly savage. She may wish to assist them for now, but she will not die for them.

Marcus merely nods, then sniffs the air and growls in annoyance. "New girl is cooking something. Stupid girl."

Without turning back, she begins to walk back into the inn, “Sylvie? Maybe, but it's better than our friends bein' distracted by hunger at a dire time.”

Marcus remains outside, merely staring out into the forest as he once was before.

Elsha begins to come back from her stroll with Thane in tow. The marten has himself slung over her shoulder in a very lethargic manner, his stomach being decidedly stuffed. She pauses and looks in horror at two of her friends in a struggle in front of the inn. She begins to hurry towards them, but soon enough they are untangled and the wolf-girl leaves. Elsha stops, only a short sprawl of bushes separating her from the clearing that Marcus now occupies alone, to her knowledge atleast. With a start, she flings herself to the ground, accidentally throwing Thane off of her. An angry chitter comes from the small furry critter, but quickly the half-elf thrusts her hands out to cover his mouth before pressing him close to herself, giving a quiet shush. In her mind, she is begging the Mother of the Forest that Marcus not come to her hiding spot to eat her. She may be able to tolerate him with others around, but to have Marcus, alone, she fails to trust the man when no one is looking. So she waits, trying to hold her breath for the others to return.

[Brovo]

“While we're in each others' midst, I'll see to keeping you out of harm's way.” -Brent, to Mikan.

Kouri glances at the food which the Half-Orc had Sylvie ate with great.. Erm.. Vigour. There was an utter lack of manners at this table, and if anyone from the royal court saw how these people ate, they would probably have been sickened to their stomach and called it an appalling, disgusting form which lacked any kind of social etiquette.. Which is exactly why she smiled from seeing it. Though, her smile faded when Alex made the comment about her and Isolde's clothing. 'Twas true, she supposed in her mind as she looked down to see her new dress. Then again it was mildly perturbing that the Necromancer changed her clothes. A shudder runs down her spine from the thought. At, well, at least he made it evidently clear that was all he intended to do. Her eyes dart to see Alex and Marcus leaving the house to practise, Ishcar in tow. "Hm.." She looks at the breakfast, then at the door, then at the breakfast again. Despite feeling peckish, she decided upon leaving the Inn to observe the practising. Ishcar was not the only one who could learn through observation, though, what she was choosing to learn was different from normal.

Mikan watches Kouri leave the Inn as she was busily consuming a portion of the breakfast for herself. The moment Sylvie was finished, Mikan had decidedly gone for a bowl to consume the meal. Her table manners were, perhaps, worse than Hal's own manners, and he was a half-orc. In all likelihood she probably didn't know what table manners were, or she was purposefully sticking it to whatever God protected table manners. In any event she was finished almost within the very minute she began eating, literally dropping the bowl on the table afterwards. There was almost a contented look in her eyes; Sylvie was a good cook. She was also something else, Mikan decided, after one glance of the red eyes that seemed ever watchful. Her eyes then look to Brent momentarily, before standing up from her chair. So, Sylvie found the Half-Orc just as attractive as Brent? A little giggle leaves Mikan's lips at the very thought of it. Though, she enjoyed the thought far too much, she decided, as she turns towards the door. "You know.. This meal was great and all, but the smoke was probably even better." Her eyes dart to the cooking pit. "I ain't sticking around for much longer, and I'm dragging the princess with me. So! Just keep that in your heads both large and small." With that, she leaves the Inn herself.

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I see you..
Kouri's eyes dart about, but there was nobody there. Marcus and Alex were fighting, well, practising, but-
Did you really think you could enter MY lands Wiccan?! Oh! My my.. I feel the presence of another Rheinfelder.. She seems familiar, yet, I can't put my finger on it. Could you look at her for me?
Kouri freezes up stiffly, feeling a choking hand around her neck. Her eyes looked panicked, but being that she stood alone, and that Alex and Marcus were now in a death grip on each other, she was in no position to be discovered feeling as terrified as she was..
STOP THINKING! Just look at the whore who would dare to conspire with you! Let me see her face, damn you!
There was a squeezing feeling around her neck as she forces herself to turn and look at Mikan, whom looked confused for a moment.
Oh! It's the whore who kept killing my men.. How appropriate; Beggar Whores and Wiccans travelling together.. Do you not agree?

Mikan goes pale after a moment of looking at Kouri's trembling form. She recognized this.. There was no breeze, no birds daring to voice their opinions, and yet such a brilliant, if bloody glare from the sun that bathed the two who sparred together.. Alex was travelling back to the Inn now. Mikan's eyes look at Alex. "Er.. HEY! A Templar's spirit is here! He is gathering information! Cover your face don't let the Princess see you!.. Don't let any magical people see you!" It was too late for her and she damn well knew it; At least though she knew how to hide in Rheinfelder towns. Alex, most likely, did not.

I have not much more time, Wiccan! Look around! See everyone here! DO IT!
Kouri trembled more as she locked herself into staring at the wall of the Inn, not moving, or anything else. DO IT! Kouri closed her eyes; Her head felt like it was going to explode. Who would have this kind of magic when they claimed to be extinguishers of those with the talent!
Really? You think us like our barbaric ancestors, Gault? Is that what you think? Know this, young blasphemer! I am Templar, servant of the Father, and by His will I use His power to strike you down and render you pointless before I slay you with my blade! I will return soon, and when I do, IT SHALL BE IN THE FLESH!
Kouri cries out in pain before falling onto the grass, both of her hands were now on her head as she felt as though her skull was two sizes too small for her brain, that screamed and cried with every heartbeat. She was almost in tears. She had resisted it, but it left her feeling feeble. At least, for the moment, before she blacked out.

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Once again, she was in the darkness of her mind.. Yet.. In the distance she could hear voices. One sounded familiar, and she immediately moved towards them. A doorway was in the distance, and upon running for it, she opened it. She steps through it, only to get blurry images.. Almost.. Looked like she was inside a castle, of some sort. One man stood in gold but she could identify no more features than that. Another stood in priestly garments, and looked old and weary. "You realize the strain upon your soul will prevent you from doing this again for some time, correct?" The man in gold nods, the both of them seemed unaware of her presence. "I realize that, however, they will never escape Rheinfeld now that I know them so well.. God's eyes grant me the power to see things they could not possible fathom." The priest is handed a brown package of some kind, to which Kouri couldn't discern precise markings. "Keep this safe for a week, priest, for if it should fall into the wrong hands.." The priest nods quickly, turning away in the darkening room. "I am already aware of what you did to the last three priests, Sir Falcroy. I shall not fail thee." A name.. She had a name!

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Slowly, Kouri's eyes open up as she groans in annoyance. Her head was still throbbing, but, not as badly as it once was. Marcus was kneeling beside her, now removing his hand from her temple. "Good. You are in one piece. Get up."

[Xaltwind]

The group seemed morbidly unaffected by the new arrival, something that concerned Isolde greatly. If they were so lax and careless about letting strangers into their midst, then there was no telling who or what they might accidentally associate themselves with. Her disapproving scowl continued as she watched the simpletons feast on the food - that may well have been poisoned for all they knew - which this 'Sylvie' had prepared. The vampire sighs, these people truly were... Well, that. She looks as Marcus and Alex, followed by Ishcar, and then Halzar, leave the house. Afterwards, Kouri also slips outside followed soon by Mikan. That left herself, this new blonde and Brent indoors. A womanizer, a flaky floozy and a stoic parasite, what a combination - she should take down notes and sell the concept to a band of travelling performers...

Sylvie, who by this time, was done with her first serving, quickly reached and fished out yet another egg from the pot of still-warm water. After peeling away the shell with less-than-adequate skill, the little lady gobbled it down in a matter of seconds. It actually looked a bit comical, with her cheeks puffed out as her entire mouth was chalk-full of food which was being chewed and devoured at an alarming rate. Sylvie then decided that this was enough. She had eaten well and gotten a break in her travels. She had not quite grasped what the green-haired woman had meant about the smoke, nor why she had looked at the fire pit, so the meaning of her words eluded her for now.

Sitting back in her chair, she stretched backwards, reaching with her arms towards the ceiling while letting out an elongated 'hnnnnnnnnnnngh!'-sound. Then exhaling. Done with this ritual, Sylvie stood up, a bright smile across her face as she looked at the strange man with the odd tools and the rude, silver-clad woman.

"Well, thank'cha for the food and company, you lot! Seems like you're all'bout ready to pack up'n leave so I guess I'll do the same, eh?" She stated in a friendly tone, before leaving the table.

However, just as Sylvie passed Isolde by and went outside, both of them heard Mikan's voice. She exclaimed something about something that didn't make much of any sense. Sylvie proceeded to go fully through the doorway at this point, in order to investigate, while Isolde suddenly felt a sharp and most intrusive feeling suddenly coming over her. It was as if some invisible force had entered into her body and mind and was trying to get a hold of her... Wait, what was that? A voice?

Obey! Foul creature of the Night, Shadows and Death! You will now serve ME!

The voice of an unknown person rang within her head, though it did not actually sound as much as it was thought. For no voice could actually be heard, rather it was like somebody thinking for her, or along with her, inside her own mind. A very, very unpleasant thing indeed. Unfortunately for the invader, it was not that easy to overcome and dominate a some three-hundred year old arcanist who also happened to be of the undead...

Look, observe! Eye your friends! Watch them! WATCH THEM I SAY! Show me their faces! Show me their forms! REVEAL THEM TO ME!!

The voice kept demanding, over and over, like the monotonous drums of a slave-ship that told the oarmen when to pull and push. Unfortunately, Isolde had been looking at the dining table when the voice had entered her mind, and it was likely that whoever was watching through her eyes and trying to control her mind, had spotted the lonesome man sitting there. She could not be sure. Regardless, through sheer force of will, the vampire shut her eyes and began thinking... Thinking of things that the invader would not amuse the invader.

What the...?! No! NO! Stop! I do not care about clothes and shoes! NO! Stop it I say! Those things are of no concern! Your friends, look at your frien- OH DEAR MERCIFUL FATHER IN HEAVEN! HOW COULD YOU COMIT SUCH LEWD AND SHAMELESS ACTS!? You filthy wench! You monster! Aaaargh!! I will not forget this, beast! Mark my words, you will burn for your sins! When I arrive in the flesh, you will pay!

The voice, and its associated presence, vanished. Isolde opened her eyes slowly. Her knees then buckled and she fell down upon them, sitting hunched forward on the floor. If she had been a human, she would likely have been breathing heavily, but since she did not have breath nor need oxygen, such an ordeal was not needed. She moved her sleeveless arm up and placed her hand upon the side of her temple, it throbbed and ached terribly. Like a hundred hangovers had all decided to bombard her skull at the same time. She briefly contemplated the Voice's final words before departing, and gleefully commented internally that she would welcome its arrival, if only to be able to repay this state of uncomfortableness in full.

Slowly rising, by using her free arm as support against the wall, the vampire stood once again. Her vision was, at first, a bit blurred and unsteady, but it soon focused and all her senses returned to their norm. Well, as normal as they could be given that daylight was fast approaching. Then it hit her. The pirate-lady's words. She would need to change clothes? This thought did not amuse Isolde in the slightest. She was fond of her clothes, they were a part of her she treasured, not just because they were pretty and fashionable, but also because they belonged to her and were items she had chosen, for nobody but herself.

She could, naturally, follow the party while keeping herself concealed and out of sight... But that would drain on her powers and be tedious, not to mention needless and a wasted effort. She did understand that changing clothes were the simplest way to deal with the issue, but still... She cherished not this thought. Once more, Isolde had not picked out clothes for herself in over two-hundred and fifty-years now. She was not sure about her measurements, or what was practical or suitable or fashionable. She then caught herself. Why was she thinking and caring so much about this? It was silly! Shaking her head slightly, the woman leaned aginst the wall with her back, folding her arms infront of herself. She would just let one of the other women pick something for her when the time came.

Meanwhile, Sylvie was busy looking befuddled at Kouri, Mikan and the two people who were trying to tear and rip one another's limbs off (and the half-breed observing the whole mess). She was a bit... confused... by the antics and behavior of this group, to say the least.

"So, are you all weird like this all the time, or are ya just putting on a show to entertain lil' old me?" She asked, smirking and with a bright face, eyes and glow.

[Tempest]

Elsha, upon being on the ground could see the feet around from under the bush, though just barely. She continues to cover Thane’s muzzle as something begins to happen. Her head begins to set into a dull ache. It feels as if something is in her mind, rustling through the brambles of her mental fortitude. A soft whimper leaves her throat as it redoubles, growing into a light throbbing and then into a mind-splitting migraine. She removes her hands from Thane and instead clutches her head as she curls into a fetal position. Her whimpers build into heavy sobs and then into a yelp as it climaxes. Through the agony, she fails to acknowledge what everyone else is shouting, instead hearing the mental assault upon her barrier. Just as the invader begins to break through, she drops against the earth, pleading for help from whatever force of nature might assist. It eases back ever so slightly, before dissipating altogether. Her eyes are brimming with tears as she staggers weakly to her feet and begins to approach the others, fearful of what may befall her should she remain absent of their presence.

Brent considers going outside to watch the match going on, but decides against it in favor of food. The tension seems to go down for a few moments as all save for himself, Isolde and Sylvie leaves the building to watch the brawl. He smirks to himself, popping an egg into his mouth. However, as the growling and grunts of the din die down, Mikan begins to shout something. He looks around curiously; moving to his feet, Isolde appears to be out of it. He stares back into her eyes as she searches the room, as if she had not the bearings of where she is or who was there. He steps closer, but the expression passes soon enough. As she falls to the ground, however, he rushes forward, but backs off from assisting her to her feet as she seems to have it handled. Something about the woman gives him the creeps. Perhaps it is the cold stares and apathetic way she regards most everyone.

After realizing he could do nothing for the vampiric woman, Brent leaves the house to see how everyone else fares. Seeing Mikan, he rushes to her side and embraces her for a fleeting moment. “Are you alright?” he asks, concern seeping into his voice despite himself. He checks her over, making certain she is unharmed physically, before glancing around the clearing. The elfin girl is returning after her absence and Kouri is upon the ground. He glances around, spying Hal, Alex and Ishcar. What had they been up to during all this? Brent fails to know what Mikan had shouted, but judging by the state the party, it was not something good.

She barely makes it to the door before Mikan begins to shout. Her first reaction is a growl of protest at how “active” her life had become in just one day’s time. It lasts merely a heartbeat as her next reaction surfaces: to listen to the woman who knows what she is talking about. Quickly, she throws herself against the wall and wraps her arms around her head to hide her face, hair and any other features that make her noticeable. Though muffled, she can hear the muffled footfalls and voices. Her heart hammers in her chest as she tries to understand what is going on. A ghost, or spirit of some templar was here gleaning information upon them. They are already aware of their presence and at least a few of their faces. They would be looking for them specifically now in the larger towns and cities. She cusses under her breath at her own folly to believe Marcus for a second that they might get through the country without too much trouble. Without even being present, a single templar manages to harm every magi in the group!

A yelp of pain and cry of suffering breaks the lycan from her thoughts. Without thinking, she drops her arms and looks for the owner of these howls. Seeing Kouri upon the ground, she begins to dash over, but Marcus reaches her first. She crouches next to the armored, staring at Kouri’s troubled face for a moment as she appears unconscious. Marcus touches a hand to her temple, apparently checking if she is alright. Alex, herself, has doubts as she waits for the stirring of motion. Yet, her eyes begin to wander and rest upon Ishcar uncertainly. Here was one who appears unphased by the events, at least physically, as the other spellcasters were. A glower of distrust passes over her brow before motion draws her attention away. Elsha appears returning, but she comes with a new pallor visible even under the years of dirt. Realizing Kouri will be out for a few moments, she moves to the elf and places hands upon elbow and waist to steady the shaky woman. Elsha begins to weep and leans against the lycan, causing Alex to flinch and cast her eyes back to Kouri.

To think only a few heartbeats before this, her mind was set in the resolution that she would depart if the odds were too greatly against their favor. She pats Elsha upon the back before casting a glance back to the still princess before noises come from her and then stirring. A breath she did not realize she had been holding passes from her lips at seeing the woman is fit. Without a word, she turns to depart over to the princess to ask her of her condition after whatever bout had seized her, but Elsha clings tight to her and releases a whine of just how insecure she feels after the episode. Shaking her head at the child who appears so much older, Alex instead leads the elf across the clearing, back to Kouri. “Isolde, if you’re alright, get out here,” she demands.

A few moments later, without checking to see if the vampire listens or not, she looks down to Kouri, her gaze almost cold again at the state of affairs, “Are ya a’right?. . . If you’re not too shaky, get up. We’re leavin’. Now. B’fore the crusaders arrive.” She casts her eyes around, “I’m not sure ‘bout the rest o’ ya, but this cert’nly sheds a lit’l light on wot we’re up ‘gainst here and why we can’t be as careless as we ‘ave been.”

[Zakattacks]

As Ishcar witnessed the intense battle, his eyes widened in surprise as he found himself watching almost spellbound by the intense exchange of blows. This was surely something he could learn from, and even in watching, he could feel his fingers itch to grab his sword in an excitement to try to follow some of these techniques himself...which was something that honestly scared him. He dismissed the feeling quickly, as it wasn't something he wanted to grow accustomed to. His sword wasn't made to be an assassination device, and much like a mage's staff, it should not be wielded by someone because of the want to use it for harm, but rather, the want to defend or help. Despite this, he knew there were things he had to know, because from what Marcus said, these were skilled warriors they would be dealing with if something broke out...and he did not want to see a replay of his dream.

But still, he needed to practice his own sword technique, and as he reached back for his own sword, he stopped as he sniffed the air. Oh, right. There was food within the house, and it smelled darn good. Well, he supposed he should get some before they departed, and perhaps he could practice the sword techniques on the way out of this forest. It would be better that way, being he didn't want to look sloppy eating in front of the ladies around him...it was sort of embarrassing, to be honest...wait, what was that?

The boy's eyes widened as something...strange happened. What felt like an icy touch on his shoulder as if a queen of ice had literally gripped his shoulder took hold as he felt his body almost frozen in place, unable to move as he began to hear Mikan shouting something about Templar spirits. Quickly, he tried to struggle or turn toward Kouri, but as soon as he tried, he not only failed, but a huge headache exploded in his own head, causing him to reach up to his head and grip it tightly in pain.

Ah ah ah, I wouldn't do that if I were you, Ishcar. Now, don't look toward Kouri, or you might ruin things.

Ishcar's eyes blinked. What was this strange voice? It almost felt...familiar, but he had never heard anything quite like it. It sounded like it was coming from outward, but at the same time, he saw no one nearby (not that he could move or check), and it had to be otherworldly. Was this the templar spirit?

Don't worry, I'm not one of those knights. I'm here to make sure you don't mess things up. Just don't look toward Kouri or give her a face to look at right now, and you'll do fine.

Ishcar refused as at the sound of Kouri suddenly collapsing onto the ground(or so he presumed) He quickly turned toward Kouri, rushing toward her side as...he, too, suddenly collapsed, as something like a huge weight fell upon him, sending him onto the ground as his headache grew to the point that he began to literally sweat because the headache was terrible, his teeth gritting in pain as he skidded through the grass to a complete stop a few yards away from Kouri's own collapsed body, whom Ishcar couldn't see due to the fact that his own was implanted into the ground at this point.

You had to go and do that, didn't you?...I don't think it mattered, being she blacked out before she could see you. Nonetheless, you're really too stubborn. You should listen to me more!

Who was this person who had done this to him?! As he gripped his head with his hands and found himself gritting his teeth even harder. Was this a deity? Some sort of God trying to tell him what to do, or was this...something else? He wasn't sure, but one thing was for sure. He was going to be pinned on the ground for at least a moment or two as he gripped his head in pain, his skull, unfortunately, feeling two sizes too small. Which was almost ironic, being sometimes he felt like he didn't understand anything that was going on. Particularly now.

You're not too far off, but you definitely need some work. But at least you're willing to learn. That is, once you get past your stubbornness. I've got to go know, try not to be too stubborn...then again, it is what makes you Ishcar!

And with that, the weight disappeared, and his headache vanished. It wasn't like he enjoyed their meeting, but this...talk was more than a little interesting. But for now, the boy was not getting up off the ground until he felt comfortable with doing so, being that it didn't feel right after he had felt like he had just been crushed by a large paperweight. He wondered if this had happened to anyone else, and if so, whom they were...and he hoped that they were alright.

Oh, and he hoped that his face wasn't too dirty. He would have to clean it off once he finally got off. And then he could get a bite to eat.

[Player2]

Quite a show the two were putting on. A good little tussle between the quick and the strong, though towards the end it got rather dull. Hal was never much for grappling and wrestling. Not to say that he couldn't, but he far preferred simply smashing someones face with a solid punch or a vicious elbow. Wrestling was too slow paced for him. Still, it hammered down that the two fighters knew themselves quite well, with Marcus making use of his greater strength and weight, and the lithe Alex using her agility quite well. In the end though, mostly a tie. Marcus may have been a bit ahead, but one could never call a fight till one person could fight no more. Would've been interesting to see the outcome of that...

He was pulled from watching the two as Mikan suddenly began shouting. A quick glance over saw Kouri's back to him, and as it was probably best to go unnoticed, Hal took a few quick steps to get around the side of the building. He backed up against the wall and waited for whatever it was to pass by, hand resting on the hilt of his blade, his other with a firm grip on the haft of an axe. A few seconds passed, the sound of someone falling, and people began chatting away once again. With that cue, Hal adjusted the weapons at his waist, sighed, and headed back to the spot he had sat at moments before.

It seemed Alex was eager to move; an understandable concept given what Mikan was saying. “While I agree we should move, what just happened, exactly?” Hal asked as he joined the circle of people who had congregated about Kouri. Normally Hal would've taken a shot in the dark and guessed magic, but weren't Rheinfeilders greatly apposed to that idea? Or that they now resorted to using that which they condemned for the greater good? And here Hal was hoping any fights would be good old fashioned blade on blade, with none of the magic slinging stuff from the enemies side. That'd teach him to get his hopes up.

[Brovo]

“I think I’ll need more than a dirk to slay Gods.” -Halzar "Hal" Borfrain.

So much talking, so little time to listen to it all. Kouri was feeling overwhelmed if but for a moment as she eases onto her hands and knees. Her headache had not quite fully left her, but it had quite effectively left her crippled for the few moments that it had been there. "Hm.." One could hear her moment of pondering the situation as she slowly stands up, her two feet feeling unstable as she stumbles sidelong into Marcus. He stands still as a cold statue, barely making any motion at all as Kouri grasps his shoulder with one of her hands to steady herself before taking a step away, though, as she does, she shudders. Something was terrible, terrible wrong with that man. "Alex and Hal are correct. We should move while we still have legs." Kouri shoots an annoyed glare at him; She didn't need the echo of the obvious from the Tiefling. Marcus merely raises an eyebrow in amusement. "Yeah.. We should get going." Her stomach was silently cursing at her for not grabbing anything to eat. Alas, though, now as not the time to think about such things. "Mikan, these are your lands, what do you recommend?"

Mikan was hesitant to respond, as she was blushing rather furiously. Brent had merely asked her if she was okay. Yes. That. Yet.. She was felt all tied up inside trying to answer. WHY?! This made no sense at all! He shouldn't care about her, he was a womanizer!.. Then again she was technically a womanizer. A bit of a smirk crosses her face as she looks at Brent, eye to eye for just a fleeting moment. In her own eyes was a pair of playful stars. "I'm fine, Sheriff." A nervous giggle manages to escape from her as her blush begins to fade. She turns to Kouri and finally answers the question. "As insane as it might sound, we should sneak into Guttfrein. It's a city, not far from here. Most of the Crusaders and Templars will be busy searching the forests for us, and, well, would they really expect us to enter their bastion of light?" A sort of devilish smile crosses her face as Marcus sighs. The plan was foolish. "Besides, I have lots of friends in Guttfrein who can shelter us, get us some new clothes, and tell us which port is not swarming with Crusaders going on crusades this time of year." Oh. That was a bit more wise, and sane.. Although..

"So." Marcus eyes Mikan, taking a couple steps towards her. "These lands are from whence you came, which brings up an important question of loyalties.." His hand was resting on the handle of his blade as Mikan seems to get a bit anxious. Kouri, however, interferes. "She helped us thus far. I trust her. Which way Mikan?" Mikan merely points silently to the north, seeming to feel a little reassured by Kouri's trust. "Then let us be off. We need to gather supplies soon anyway, and we cannot do that in a forest crawling with Crusaders." For once, Kouri didn't seem to ask the group around her for thoughts on her decision. She merely undertook it, and began travelling to the north. "Oh GREAT! I'll go get my stuff." She darts for the Inn, looking uncomfortable back to Marcus momentarily before going inside and letting anyone still inside the Inn know about Kouri's plans. Marcus seemed to wait for others to go before him, looking a bit annoyed by Kouri's continuing faith in people.

The sun continued to rise, signalling the early to mid morning as the forest began to awaken. One might catch the occasional glimpse of one of the Nymphs from earlier, but otherwise, it was relatively calm.. For most people, anyway.

[Xaltwind]

Sylvie wasn't exactly sure what was going on, and thus tilted her head sideways in slight confusion, but it didn't seem like anyone was about to answer her question about whetever these people were putting on an act to amuse her or not. Which probably meant that they weren't acting. Which probably meant that they were in some kind of trouble, judging from the fact that those so-called 'Crusaders' and 'Templars' were after them. Not that she knew much of anything about those individuals, she had only recently gotten to Rheinfeld herself and weren't exactly familiar with the social and culturual enviroment here. Still, if these people were heading for a city then she might as well tag along, cities were a good place to go for several reasons, such as quality inns, stores with valuables and gems, job-opportunities and other pleasures.

"Well, you people seem to be knee-deep in some sorta trouble, but if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to tag along 'til that city you talked'bout. Travelling with company's always better than walking the roads alone, right?" The cheerful, black-garbed blonde with the incredibly vicious-looking scythe on her back said in her thus-far usual0 bubbly and pleasant tone with a bright smile across her face. "I mean, you seem to be in some sorta sticky situation, but you don't seem like bad people!" She quickly added while folding her arms infront of her and nodding with her head while keeping her eyes closed, as if she was some sort of sage. And then she simply began to follow this woman named Kouri.

Sylvie didn't seem all that bothered about the young boy who had face-planted into the ground earlier, or the crying, near-hysterical elven girl who the red-headed lady had gone to comfort. Nor had she said anything to the handsome half-orc or the gruesome bruiser with the bad skin-condition. Then again, judging by her actions and behavior thus far, not many things did bother her...

Mikan enters the Inn, closing the door behind herself out of habit even though she's likely to leave within the minute she entered. Still her supply bag was sitting against the side of the staircase, which came to a slight relief for her. After all, she just left it lying around! She looks around the room to find only herself and Isolde. The vampire was standing, or more accurately she was leaning, against the wall with her arms crossed just under her bustline while keeping her eyes shut, a blank expression as usual was ever-present on her face.

"Hey.. You're feeling alright after that whole Templar-thing?" Mikan asks, her playful nature having seemingly fled the room temporarily for an uncharictaristically serious attitude.
"I am still standing and I am still the master of my own body." Isolde replied coldly.
"Good." Mikan replies, her smile returning. It seemed that she was not bothering to hide some of her more mature portions of her personality as she grabs her supply bag. "Sooo.. What'cha wanna wear when we get to town?"
"Wha- That... Does not matter." Isolde's eyes opened suddenly in surprise at the green-haired girl's comment and momentarily the vampiress looked a bit baffeled by the question, though her usual apathetic face soon returned.
"Well yeah, it does! Some people really like their clothes!" Mikan looks at the supply bag for a moment, opening it and slowly pulling out the Kouri plushie. "I mean, none of us own much of nothin'.. So we cling to whatever we got." Mikan then looks to Isolde. "You have been alive for like, what, three hundred years? I just figured you might like your clothes.. So I could keep them in here," She motions to the supply bag with the Kouri Plushie. "For safe keeping when you get some clothes that don't fit someone so pretty."

Isolde was somewhat taken aback by the woman before her. This was not the ditzy, flaky and floozy-of-a-girl she had previously travelled with. The trollop had... transformed? Into a telepath!? How could she otherwise have possibly known what the vampire felt about her clothes?! Or how old she was for that matter!? Even with these thoughts raging inside her skull, which still throbbed from Templar-invasion mind you, the silver-eyed blonde still managed to keep her cool and retain her collected fascade, not allowing her inner turmoil to seep out and become noticeable. That would have been disastrous, socially that is. Her arms slowly trailed from their crossed positon and instead moved hang limply by the her sides, all the while looking at Mikan and her bag...

"You do not honestly believe I have worn these same clothes for as long as I have been a vampire, do you?" Isolde asked, her face still blank, though the presence of a slight curvature to her lips could be spotted. "It is odd that you would call me such a thing though. Pretty... I canot recall the last time anyone said such a thing to me."
"Why not?" Mikan responds curiously, holding the Kouri Plushie away from the bag to draw attention to it. "I mean, people think Kouri is beautiful just because of this." She starts twirling it about for half a minute as she continues speaking. "I have seen people who look like angels, but are ugly as can be.." The twirling stops as she puts the Kouri plushie away. "You are pretty.. With long blonde hair and cold silver eyes, and more lifetimes behind you then what I could imagine." She slings the bag on, having it now act more like a satchel carrying various supplies but looking a little empty. "You may look cold, but everyone cares about something.. If it's not a person, then it has to be something you bring with you.." Mikan looks at Isolde's clothes. "The only thing I can think of, are, well, your clothes." She continues to smile, but her eyes told a different story. One of some empathy. "You might be a vampire, and I a beggar, but the only difference between us to the world is that I will die in sixty seasons, and that some people fear you more." She turns for the door, her point made. Though she did hesitate, in case Isolde had anything more to say.

Isolde let out a customary sigh. She had overestimated the girl. Of course, when she thought about it, it was really obvious. The green-haired bed-creeper wasn't likely to gain intelligence and knowledge out of the clear, blue skies of fiery torment just like that. Whatever earlier statements and comments she had made were all but simple luck, shots in the dark that had struck or at least grazed their mark. But now, this latter part of her conversation, thoughts and feelings, had all but ruined the slightly open relation which she had managed to establish between herself and the vampire. Isolde quietly raised her arm, looking at the tear in her detached sleeve, then allowed it to drop again along her side.

"It would seem you are mistaken about a great many things." She uttered in her usual monotonous way, the curvature to her mouth had all but vanished and her face was once again as void of emotion as the sky had absence of soil. "Due to what I am, I do not need to carry any cumbersome extra luggage with me. My possessions are all back in my home, where they belong." The woman announced in a fashion that almost seemed like she found it tiresome to speak now. "We should leave now, and join the others. And you should keep that Fackel Prinzessin stowed away, I do not know if the traditions of Gault still linger in these lands today, but some may become suspicious if you keep such an item out in the open and do not use it for the celebratory purpose." Isolde warned before also turning towards the door, waiting for Mikan to leave.

Mikan seemed somewhat taken aback by the sudden harshness from Isolde. Though, it was to be expected, unfortunately. "I'm sorry. I just.." Mikan seemed to be at a loss for words at the moment, then looked at the damaged sleeve. A certain flicker ran between her eyes. "I know somebody who could fix that right up in a matter of minutes.. We'll be heading into town soon anyway, so, I mean, when we leave Rheinfeld you could have that sleeve all fixed up.. N' well.. Yeah.." She scratches the back of her head, now not entirely certain as to how to proceed. She was good at flirting, not so much at making friends.
"That... Would be... Nice." Isolde muttered in response, her head turned away, not looking at Mikan. "And... Thank you, I do believe I shall take you up on the offer about storing these clothes." She added, turning her head back towards the other woman. "After all, a lady should not be running around wearing torn and tattered garments."

Mikan hesitates, then smiles a bright, cheerful kind of smile. "Yeah. A pretty woman like you deserves nice clothing." Mikan exits from the Inn, supply bag and all, leaving the door open for Isolde. It wasn't too bright yet, thankfully. The vampire followed soon after, making not a sound as she moved.

[Zakattacks]

Ishcar would continue to lay upon the ground for a few moments, still shaken up by having his brain grow three sizes too big for his skull to hold in, but nonetheless, he was fine, for the most part. Sure, there would be a few scrapes from the fall, and it wasn't comfortable to have his face covered in the earth around him, but he would be fine eventually, as the young boy finally lifted his head above the ground below and looked up to find that...no one had cared. Apparently, Kouri was beginning to make her way away from the Cabin without a meal...and it seemed just about everyone was following her, leaving Ishcar be in the dust.

For a moment, something felt almost eerily familiar...something he didn't want to remember, nor something he could forget, as a shiver went through his spine. What about this was so familiar that it would remind him of THAT? Nonetheless, he quickly got up off the ground, dusting off his clothes and even his face as small chunks of dirt flew off of his clothes onto the ground below. He wasn't going to let any stains set in from the earth below, and besides, he had to make sure not to look strange, because from the sounds of it, they were going to proceed to a city soon.

And with that, Ishcar quickly made his way after Kouri and Marcus, his eyes taking note of them each before falling in behind Kouri particularly, his eyes glancing over the others whom were following her. He also noted that a few were missing, but he was sure they would catch up soon. "So...Kouri, are you alright?" The young boy asked, looking a bit concerned as his blue eyes glowed with a familiar kindness, although it was more of the characteristic kind rather than the lovey-dovey kind that had been shown before...or at least, it seemed different.

Kouri looks back to Ishcar for a moment, then turns back towards the trail she had in her mind. "I am fine, Ishcar. How are you feeling? I thought I saw you fall to the ground but I was not sure."

Ishcar blinked. So, somehow had seen him fall, after all. So...perhaps she did care if he had fallen? Nonetheless, his eyes blinked as he made his way after the Princess, still walking by her side as he smiled at her. "I'm fine. A little dirty...but fine. But...what happened back there?" He asked, looking a bit confused.

"If I had to guess.." Kouri seems to ponder for a moment, not looking towards Ishcar, but not looking away either. "I'd say.. Someone was trying to control us remotely. Which is odd for this country.." She sighs. "Though I suppose a lot changes in a thousand years."

Ishcar nodded, turning his head back toward the path ahead as he smiled. "Yeah...I guess..." He stated, his smile fading as he began to take in what she said. Things had definitely changed from what Kouri had known, apparently, and he wouldn't doubt it in the least bit. Even so, as he walked, he couldn't help but think that perhaps not everything was as terrible as Kouri thought it was. There were a few good things...weren't there? Nonetheless, the fact that someone had tried to control their minds was more than concerning. Probably those Templars whom Mikan had mentioned a while ago.

Nonetheless, that strange voice from before...that didn't necessarily sound like it wanted to control his mind...it sounded more concerned, than anything. And it was making sure he didn't screw up, according to it. But the question was...

What was it?