"The world reacts to you as a writer would add another page to his book. The more you worry about the content of the page, the less you write." -Page 56, Amora, Legend of Renalta: Reborn.

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Once upon a time in a small, lake side down, the scents of bakeries drifted through the streets, along with happy children and contented adults. The town of Arian--still informally called 'Arian Village', idyllic and second only to the capital of Renalta itself in terms of beauty and symbolism to the people of Renalta. Here, alongside the crystal clear waters of the lake, Queen Kouri stood. A small smile managed to reach her face, as her blue hair was reflected back at her by the water. "After a thousand years... It still amazes me how this place never changes." She murmurs aloud to Alexandria.

"Yeah, I could only imagine... Just twenty years gone past for me, and it is still a shock that nothing ever changes... Well, some things," she looks out across the water, her gaze drawn to the same point it always was... On a far bank, a small farmhouse half collapsed in and a tree protruding proudly from its midst. "I still get a chill whenever we come back here," she stands smoothly, having collected a broad, flat stone and sends it skipping across the water, watching the ripples. "Give me the entirety of the heavens to face down any day over farm work," she redirects with a smile, offering out her hands, "Quick, check for me, I think I already feel blisters at the thought!"

Kouri looks at Alex's hands and her small smile turns into a chuckle. "I think politicians are worse than farmwork. Farmwork is honest work, at least." There were a few others around, and indeed, they stared, though pretended not to. It came with the territory of being a pair of royalty. "Still... I wanted to see the lake again. Before we met with some of the Queen's Blades." Her eyes scan over every ripple the stone made on the lake. "I wanted to spend a little time here before we instructed the Blades on their new duties in this country... The same place we got married." Quietly a giggle left her lips as Thane, the old marten, grey whiskers and all, came bounding over to the two of them with a small piece of bread in its mouth. Somewhere behind him, a baker was yelling about a thief of some sort. "Remember when... Mikan stole your brother's favourite doll? Ran through the streets with it just to bring him to our wedding."

After giving the marten a scolding look, Alex' lips spread into a wolfish grin as she places her hands on her hips, "Of course I remember. He was furious!... And it made up for all the torment he put me through as a kid, seeing his face like that. And all the jokes about his baby sister being more a man than he was now, never gets old." She shakes her head, a niggling of worry eating at her again, "You really think the twins are gonna be alright? I know its important to meet these kids, and I always enjoy any time we can sneak away from all the posh snobs and royal..." Alex fumbles, still fumbling to remember the proper names for the she-devils that hunted her down with dresses and ribbons stacked high upon their arms. How they didn't just topple over still was beyond her, "The royal dress-attack hounds," she settles, "But I always feel bad when they have to stay behind."

With a soft sigh, Kouri shakes her head. "Maids. They are maids, Alex, and they're just doing their job." Her mind then wanders to the twins still back in the castle, her children. They had almost seemed excited at the prospect of their parents being away. "The kids will be fine, I thought that we should spend a little time here just the two of us." Quietly she moves a little closer to Alex, and her voice goes quieter to match the look in her eyes. "After all, we will be staying here for a couple of days... I heard the rooms at the Inns here are quite sublime. One was even described to be like a cabin in a ship..."

A low growl rumbles from her chest and Alex closes her eyes, taking a deep breath in order to keep some composure while they were still in public. Loosely draping her arms about Kouri, Alex leans in to murmur, "How long do we have to ourselves again?..."

"Just tonight, and tomorrow night." Her voice, quiet as it was, still rang clearly to Alex's ears the gentle care and affection of ten years ago. Slowly and delicately, her hand reached up and her fingers moved across Alex's cheek. Just as she was about to go in for the kiss, she hesitates, and looks around the village. "That... Was a strange feeling..." Her eyes move about the various villagers, who seemed entirely undisturbed. "... Someone is near... Amanda wasn't supposed to return from Liveria for another week... Alex, grab Thane."

Alex tenses and gives a low whistle, drawing back to crouch down with an outreached arm. Thane awkwardly pounces over the ground, a little clumsier in his old age and barely clears it to her hand, scrambling to pull himself up as he scurries up her sleeve. "What is it?" Her eyes dart over the area warily, looking for the first sign of danger as she warily places herself in a protective position of Kouri.

"I'm not certain... Magic, that is all I know." She whispers to Alex as the few townsfolk around notice their sudden tension. One of the older men starts motioning to the women, quietly, to get the children indoors, while the other men around quickly start moving for the armoury. It was silent alarm, knowing that a powerful mage would suddenly tense up was enough reason for them to get the innocents to safety and get ready to potentially fight for their lives and lands.

It was a few moments after that a raven lands in front of Alexandria and Kouri, between them and the town. The older villager stuck around to see what was happening as the raven slowly unfurled its wings, and with a series of grotesque cracks and spine chilling grunts, quickly turns into a person... A person with a flamboyant purple cape, top hat, and long, black hair racing down his shoulders that failed to hide his pale white skin. His gloved hands reached up to his head and pulled his hat off, bowing politely before the two queens, and his voice held a certain air of cold nobility, the kind one would expect from a slaver... Or a lunatic. "Hello my wondrous darlings... I couldn't help but notice your lack of entertainment in this town!" Kouri takes a deep breath and whispers in Alex's ear as her hands light with magical flame. "That man is James the Illusionist... A powerful magician, the leader of a... Traveling circus act. Do not trust what you see." James snorts with irritation. "Circus? Circus?! My dearest blue lady, it is a faire! A circuit of artistic madness!" He summons a cane out of thin air and leans upon it with a grin that showed eerily white teeth, which glinted with sharpness all around. "But at least, I do not have to introduce myself!"

Alex looks at James with cold eyes, more irritated at his interruption than anything, "So, you can juggle, right? All the good circuses have jugglers. Fruit, clubs, knives, fire. You know, the interesting bits." She scratches irritably over her neck, a faint prickling building under her skin as she was readying to shift subconsciously.

James rolls his eyes as another raven comes to sit upon his shoulder. He feeds it a bread crumb he pulls out from underneath his sleeve. "How crude." His voice changed to that of mock offense. "I traveled with your estimable wife before. I'm only here to make things interesting for her again!" Kouri's look turns into a glare as the fire around her hands licks with old anger. "You nearly got me killed, as I remember it... What games are you playing, you half-wit jester." James shakes his head. "Tsk tsk. Your mother didn't teach you to be very lady-like... But I suppoooose I can tell you." He swings his arm back dramatically, the raven on his shoulder taking off and cawing at Thane, who hisses back at it. "In this little town of yours there is four little wonderful devices--courtesy of my Carnival of Chaos, of course--one in the east and west watch towers, one inside the central fountain, ohhh, and..." He cranes his neck beyond human ability to look backward at the extremely disturbed villager. "...Inside the Inn, now courteously full of women and children!" Before the villager could shout an order the raven from earlier swoops in and cuts his cheek. "Nuh uh uhhh! You're not allowed to ruin the fun! If one of your militia steps foot inside, everyone will get to coat their houses in a brilliant shade of sapphire red! Wouldn't that be nice?" The villager flinches and immediately runs for the Inn as James laughs manically, before craning his head back to the two queens. "It will be all up to your Queen's guards to... Prove their competency! After all, if they can't stop little ole me, how are they supposed to stop a demon invasion? Hmm?"

With a bestial snarl, Alex lunges forward. In her flight towards James, her body shifts and contorts in shape and size similar a russet wolf. Without a beat missed, claws lash out to rend the malevolent magician in two...

James gasps in surprise and stumbles to the left, his right forearm is cut and he drops his cane behind. He stares at his cane, wide eyed for a moment before looking at his bleeding arm. "You... Cut me..." His breath quickens in a mixture of shock and anger. "You DARE ATTACK ME?!" Before he can muster a counter attack, a ball of flame whizzes past Alex and hits James, sending him several feet into a wall which he bounces off of pathetically. He gets up slowly, and glares at the both of them as Kouri retorts. "Only a child thinks himself above reproach. I should know, I have two of them." James wipes a little blood away from his mouth with his left hand and grins savagely. "And they will pay for your sins, dog fucking whore." With that said he flourishes his cape, and in one swift movement, disappears behind it. The cape then falls to the ground, a harmless purple rag, stained with a little of his blood. He was no match for the two of them together. Mikan then appears from the shadows. "I knew you didn't need my help!" She sticks out her tongue as Kouri shakes her head. "Not a good time for jokes, Mikan. Go warn the Queen's Blades coming here. They should be traveling in from the southern road, they can't be far now." Mikan pouts. "Aww! But I wanna stay here and plaaayyyy~" Kouri shakes her head. "You're the fastest. You have to go." Mikan sighs in disappointment, before looking between both Alex and Kouri. "...Stay safe you two, okay?" With that said, she starts moving for the Queen's Blades as more ravens start to come in from across the lake. A whole flock of them--hundreds, possible thousands.

Alex takes a moment, bending over the cloak and inhaling deep, intending to track down the fool who dared to threaten her family and homeland and think to get away with it. Yet, the only thing to meet her is the scent of raven, doing little in the wake of the incoming swarm. Alex rears to her full-height, tense and frustrated before she looks back at the town worriedly. A snarl rumbles from her as she looks back to Kouri, ready to assist her in whatever they might do to control the damage til the Blades arrived.

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Act 1: The Carnival of Chaos

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West Watch Tower

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Standing high and mighty at eighty feet, this watch tower can peer well over the rolling grasslands off into the distance to spot for incoming bandit attacks. Upon arriving to the scene, members of the Queen's Blades would see nothing out of the ordinary. Four militia would be standing watch at the top of the tower, which could be reached with a central ladder and had two "floors". Around the watch tower was the nearby palisade walls of the town meant to keep out wolves and other wild animals. At the top of the watch tower, a device would clearly be able to be seen, though it was no explosive. It was simply a red button with a label saying "push me!"

A few ravens did litter the ground around a few people caught outside the walls who missed the general evacuation notice, and would watch the queen's blades movements carefully and eerily. It was clear that these were not ordinary ravens. Whether they were shapeshifters like James the Illusionist, however, was up for debate... They could just as easily be traps.

Around this area one -could- feasible climb to the top of the tower and use the large horn at the top to summon back patrols looking for bandits... Though that would likely set off whatever threats James left behind for them.

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East Watch Tower

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Akin to its western neighbour, the east watch tower also stood eighty feet in height, with the same central ladder structure and two floor layering. Palisade walls surrounded the place, but unlike the west watch tower, there was no ravens, and no surviving militia. Two bodies on the top floor could be seen vaguely through the floor boards, they had been viciously pecked to death, though a few raven's corpses littered around them, so they put up a fight before going down. Standing at the base of the watch tower was an orc knight in full, silver plate mail armour, wielding a large warhammer on his back, and a silver short sword on his side. On either side of him were young men in carnival uniforms, working on something behind him.

A closer look between the orc's legs would reveal it to be an explosive of some sort. Apparently, James didn't have the power of omnipresence, and couldn't arm all the bombs at the same time himself.

The orc, however, stood firm at the approach of intruders, though kept his warhammer sheathed at the approach of any Queen's Blades. "My name is Dirge. I am sworn to the service of James Moriarty. If you would stand in his way, then prepare to die." A pair of ravens descend from the sky and land on his shoulder plates, as though threatening to attack if the intruders made any sudden movements after his introduction.

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Town Square

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At the centre of Arian village one could see the beginnings of civilization starting to creep into the otherwise small town feel. The fountain was recently constructed, made out of brick and mortar. Around it the town square, with several small buildings and merchant's wagons, and dirt paths leading north, east, south, and west. A few militia were moving around it, numbering at half a dozen or so, trying to find something, weapons drawn. The pupils of their eyes were dilated and full of fear. As they looked around, one man of the militia would see the approaching members of the Queen's Blades, and would quickly move towards them, weapon still drawn. "HALT! W-we don't know who you are! Are you... Y-you... One of them?" As a raven lands near his feet he ruthlessly executes it, stabbing it with his blade and crying out in fear before looking back at the group. It was clear he was pretty much reduced to a harmless, sniveling pile of tears at this point.

It should be noted that out of all the locations, this one was closest to the two queens to the north east where Arian lake was located, so they could attempt to rescue their queens and get help from them before finding the bomb, though risk it going off due to running out of time. On the other hand, they could stay here to find and defuse the bomb, though the queens by themselves could be injured without help.

And then there's the militia... They were acting beyond reasonable fearful. Their eyes especially gave away that the nature of their fear was totally unnatural, and any magicians in the area would feel the presence of a mage, hidden from sight.

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Raven's Inn

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In the south western portion of town was the highest population density, and coincidentally, the largest Inn. Tight dirt streets would lead to it, houses on either side of the Inn were typically bungalows made out of logs, some with hay rooftos, some with somewhat better quality, this area of town seemed to be under renovation. The Inn itself was quartered off with a magical barrier, save the door, which had a raven guarding the door. A middle aged villager with a dozen militia surrounded the place, and upon sight of the reinforcing Queen's Blades, would sigh in relief. "Oh thank the Queen's les'ban arse you lot are here. There's a talkin' raven 'ere, and he's been demandin' to sees yas lot." The raven clears its throat, before shape shifting. Its spine would crack, and the low guttural groans would indicate pain as James the Illusionist once again took shape.

He grasped his right forearm in pain, spitting a bit of blood out onto the dirt as he glared at them before summoning his cane into his left hand. "Your queens are quite violent things." The militia did not move whatsoever as the middle aged villager looked at them in confusion and anger. "What have you done, wretch?!" James shrugs. "They would have interfered. Can't have that now, can we." He then looks at the Queen's Blades. "Look. I'm not a bad guy, so I'll help you help the people inside... Because I was a child once you know. Yes, it's true, and I did like being one." He taps his lip in thought with his right hand, almost as though thinking of how he could help. "Inside I have a guardian with a key. Get the key and unlock a chest... From there, you will know what to do... Oh!" He giggles madly, almost like a little girl. "...You can't beat the guardian by killing him. That would destroy the key! But he can kill you. Oh yes. Yes yes yes yes yesss. Yes he can. Can can can canily can!" He sings cheerfully, seemingly to himself, before snapping back to reality. "Sooo... What'cha gonna do huh?"

Raven's Inn - Arian - A Carnival of Chaos

Gryff looks at Murderok as the young woman explained what was happening before quickly coming to a decision without ever speaking a word. The best way to earn their coin was to get to the Inn and rescue the women and children being sheltered there. "C'mon Murd, let's hoof it to the Inn." He remarked with a nod at the young woman, she was definitely attractive enough, maybe there would be a little more than coin in it for them if they save the wee babes. It was an idea worth entertaining. After all, Gryff doubted the drow women would suffer that sort of advance. From what he heard the drow men had to do more than beg for it.

"Sounds good to me Gryff. We'll do it for the pretty lady here." The Minotaur winked at Mikan and set off at a run for the village heading for the Inn their size and stamina easily able to handle a few minutes of run easily. Arriving, with other Queens blades not too far behind Murd hoped.

In the south western portion of town was the highest population density, and coincidentally, the largest Inn. Tight dirt streets would lead to it, houses on either side of the Inn were typically bungalows made out of logs, some with hay rooftos, some with somewhat better quality, this area of town seemed to be under renovation. The Inn itself was quartered off with a magical barrier, save the door, which had a raven guarding the door. A middle aged villager with a dozen militia surrounded the place, and upon sight of the reinforcing Queen's Blades, would sigh in relief. "Oh thank the Queen's les'ban arse you lot are here. There's a talkin' raven 'ere, and he's been demandin' to sees yas lot." The raven clears its throat, before shape shifting. Its spine would crack, and the low guttural groans would indicate pain as James the Illusionist once again took shape.

He grasped his right forearm in pain, spitting a bit of blood out onto the dirt as he glared at them before summoning his cane into his left hand. "Your queens are quite violent things." The militia did not move whatsoever as the middle aged villager looked at them in confusion and anger. "What have you done, wretch?!" James shrugs. "They would have interfered. Can't have that now, can we." He then looks at the Queen's Blades. "Look. I'm not a bad guy, so I'll help you help the people inside... Because I was a child once you know. Yes, it's true, and I did like being one." He taps his lip in thought with his right hand, almost as though thinking of how he could help. "Inside I have a guardian with a key. Get the key and unlock a chest... From there, you will know what to do... Oh!" He giggles madly, almost like a little girl. "...You can't beat the guardian by killing him. That would destroy the key! But he can kill you. Oh yes. Yes yes yes yes yesss. Yes he can. Can can can canily can!" He sings cheerfully, seemingly to himself, before snapping back to reality. "Sooo... What'cha gonna do huh?"

"Hold on just a minute there whoever you are. We have some business to deal with first. We'll get to whatever you're on about then." Murderok said as he held up one palm facing the Illusionist as if daring him to talk to it instead. "You there, peasant. What did you just say?"

The peasant looked confused. "I sed 'Oh thank the Queen's les'ban arse you lot are here. There's a talkin' raven 'ere, and he's been demandin' to sees yas lot.'."

"I thought so." Murderok turned to Gryff, "We're Queen's Blades now right?" He asked.

"Yup." Gryff remarked. "Good regular pay."

"Do ya reckon protecting the Queens honour is part of the job?" Murderock asked again.

"I'd reckon so, we ARE her blades after all, it'd be pretty rude of us not to." Gryff answered.

"Thought so." Murderok said turning and launching a solid punch, but working to stop it from being a lethal hit into the Peasants face, "That is for disrespecting your queen. Her arse is of no concern to you and you'll find it in you to trouble yourself not to make such disrespectful marks in future." Murd told himself that once this was through if the geezer made it through whatever the obstinate wizard wanted he'd buy the fellow a drink and explain, a jobs a job.

Gryff meanwhile turned his attention to the wizard. The fellow stank of bullshit and appeared to be made from a good dose of crazy doused with a little stupidity on the side, despite his magical ability his mentality seemed little better than that of the children he professed a desire to help save. "What am I going to do?" Gryff said thoughtfully. What I want to do is run you through with a Lance "I'm going to talk, you clearly see this as something of a game and games have rules, so, in the spirit of fairness, can you give us a clue about what the Guardian is?" Gryff wondered if he could buy enough time with talk to just run the wizard through but he doubted it. He also doubted he'd get an answer of any real value.

Scouting out ahead of the Queen's Blades group was Dread Fang, moving quickly and quietly through the countryside. He remained close to but directly avoided the southern road itself, keeping just out of sight of anyone he might run into. Every so often, he turned his head this way and that, sending telepathic pulses into his surroundings to detect any minds, but all he sensed were the small, dim lights of smaller insects and other lesser creatures. He extended his telepathic reach behind him until he sensed the group of Queen's Blades again, briefly making contact with Zayn's mind to confirm everything was in order. Dwelling scarabs are pack creatures by nature.

Suddenly, Dread Fang sensed the presence of several animals flying overhead. Turning his vision upwards, the scarab tried to make out what kind of bird exactly, but his eyesight wasn't good enough -- all he saw were black spots moving quickly. That is, until he heard one of them caw. Ravens, Dread Fang thought, and quickly turned his attention back to the road. The birds didn't interest him.

Before long, Dread Fang sensed a familiar presence approaching the group from the north. This was Mikan, the Renaltan spymaster, a woman Dread Fang had met on a few occasions. He could sense her urgency -- something was obviously up. Dashing out of the undergrowth and onto the road, Dread Fang skittered to a halt in front of Mikan and quickly curtsied, sinking through his hind limbs and extending his scything arms to either side of him, in a surprisingly accurate imitation of a noblewoman.

"Spymaster Mikan," Dread Fang spoke telepathically. "This one greets you. What news is it that you bring?" Mikan, unruffled by Dread Fang's sudden appearance, rested her hands on her knees and took a few seconds to catch her breath. "Hello to you too, cutie," she panted, grinning. "The queens sent me -- some crazy weirdo illusionist by name of James is threatening the village with bombs. I wanted to stay and toy with him, but... anyway, where's the rest?"

Dread Fang rose to his full height again (his head still only reaching Mikan's ribs) and motioned behind him with one of his front limbs. "Not far behind. The one called Dean Hansen is with them. He will want to hear directly from you, spymaster." Mikan nodded, and thinking quickly, gave Dread Fang a directive. "You go ahead, cutie. There are bombs at the watch towers as well -- I want you to go to the eastern tower and see what's going on there, okay? Don't dally!" She winked and Dread Fang nodded.

Dread Fang fell silent, his mind searching behind him. "Zayn, there is trouble in the village. The one known as Mikan will explain. Come find me at the eastern watch tower." And with that, Dread Fang disappeared off the road again and out of sight, heading for the village.

Kasim - East Watch Tower

The Renaltan countryside was rather boring. Kasim had seen its like many times before, perhaps even this very stretch of it, and so it failed to hold his interest. As luck would have it, the others sharing the road were more than enough to hold his attention. Some of them were obvious weaklings who couldn't be depended on in a fight, though he knew it was hard to separate scary magic users from the genuine battle liabilities before actually seeing them in a fight of some kind. Others were destined to become damsels in distress who would need a hero to save them, and Kasim would be happy enough to oblige when the time came. There were a handful who looked like they actually knew how to use the weapons they carried, and those were alright as far as he was concerned; some might become competition for feats of heroism, but a little competition could be a good thing. And then there were the weird ones, and those were the most interesting. Kasim was working through fun ways to define these folks, such as the dwarf who looked to be ten pounds of crazy in a five pound bag, when his thoughts were rudely interrupted by someone running toward the group from the direction of Arian village.

The interruption turned out to be rather pleasant on the eyes, and so Kasim's annoyance was rather brief. Information was relayed, suggestions were given, blah blah blah. Kasim heard something about bombs and other nonsense and some eastern tower, but his attention was rather diverted due to intense ogling so he didn't catch much more than that. He briefly toyed with the idea of sending her a telepathic message offering her a place in his bed after he saved the town from this horrible threat, but this was the time for professional heroism, not for hitting on attractive spymasters, so he managed to restrain himself. Some of the others started toward the town, so Kasim got moving as well. He moved quickly, making for the eastern side of town and the tower where the trouble was probably located. He had a momentary worry that he'd screwed things up when the sound of footsteps behind him split off away from his own, though a quick glance back showed that some were still following, so he figured he'd made a reasonable decision. It was also possible that he had indeed made a huge mistake and these others were just following his lead, but that would be a worry for another time. Looking decisive was more important than questioning his choices, so he pulled his greatbow off his shoulder to show those following him that he meant business.

The sight of the orc at the base of the tower was an oddly welcome one, as it validated Kasim's good decision making skills. The orc's words, however, were less than welcoming. "Oh, so this James is the one causing all the fuss? Damn it, should've listened and gone wherever he is." Kasim shrugged, an exaggerated and overly dramatic gesture meant to convey great disappointment. "Too late for that, I guess. Speaking of standing in the way..." He gestured toward the bomb with his free hand. "Looks like that's the thing we're here to stop, and you're in the way. Those two look kind of important though, so what happens if I do this?" Kasim pulled an arrow from the quiver hanging from his belt, nocked it, and drew the string all the way back all in one smooth and practiced motion. He took a second to aim at the torso of the nameless bomb-tinkerer on the right, then let the shaft fly.

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Zin - Town Square

With the situation more or less explained by Mikan, and Dean having given his suggestion that they split up into roughly equal groups, Zin spoke up to let the others know of her intentions. "I'll go to the town square." She left her motivation for the choice unsaid, since they would probably take it the wrong way if she said it sounded like the place easiest to escape from in case of a fight breaking out. Zin reached up with a gloved hand to make sure the hood of her cloak was drawn down securely enough to block the harmful touch of the sun, then set out toward the town without awaiting any further discussion on the matter. The others would disperse as they wished, and delays would help nobody.

Though she hurried toward and through the town, there was still enough time for Zin to silently vent her annoyance at the current mess of a situation. It was supposed to be a peaceful ceremony, a meeting with the queens wherein their duties were to be explained and they would be given jobs to do for the good of the country. She'd been expecting something along the lines of a diplomatic mission to negotiate some small matter of trade, or perhaps dealing with some minor crimes in the area, or maybe a mission to deal with hostile wildlife. Those would be things suited to new members of the Queen's Blades, not this nonsense with a madman threatening to blow up the whole town. Zin found it a little frightening and worrying. If their first real job was something of this magnitude, what in the world would their second one be like? She supposed this could be called a trial by fire, though she hoped real fire by way of explosives would not actually come into play.

Soon enough, Zin spotted the town square just ahead and slowed her pace from a jog down to a quick walk. The reaction of the militiamen in the area as she came into their view was peculiar and disturbing. Zin could hear other Blades following behind her, but she took the lead again rather than awaiting their arrival. "We're the Queen's Blades, and we're here to help. There's no need to be afraid." She kept her eyes (currently disguised with an illusion to appear blue instead of silver) on the men and pointed to the fountain as she continued talking to them in a calm voice. "There is a bomb in there, and we need to get to it and disable it before it goes off. If you can help us with that, it would be appreciated. If not, please stand back and let us do our job." Zin didn't hold much hope that her words would reach the men, since their fear seemed to be unnaturally aided in some way, but it couldn't hurt to try.

Eastern Watch Tower

Dread Fang kept his distance, out of sight, sensing the orc's presence and the two tinkering men behind him. They were working on something, and though Dread Fang couldn't see what, it was a reasonable guess to assume this would be the "bomb" Mikan had mentioned. The scarab had only a rudimentary understanding of the mechanics of explosives, but he knew it was bad news. Best to kill the orc and these men before anything could be blown up.

Kasim arrived shortly, followed by others, and promptly captivated the orc's attention. As the ironclad warrior spoke to Kasim, obviously distracted, Dread Fang circled around to the left, his body low to the ground, hugging the earth as predators do. He emerged from the tall grass and into the tower's shade, closing the distance as swiftly and silently as he could. He crept up against the wall of the watch tower -- the orc, the bomb and the two men were just around the corner. He could hear Kasim speaking now, the cocky archer, and telepathically sensed the man's intent to fire.

Orc warrior tough armor, the scarab thought to himself, in the curt, matter-of-fact way that was natural to his kind. Other flesh-targets not steel. He heard the twang of Kasim releasing his bowstring and knew the arrow was bound for the bomb-tinkerer that was furthest away from Dread Fang. Seizing the moment, the dwelling scarab rounded the corner, reared up on his hind legs and lifted his scything front limbs into the air above the other bomb-tinkerer. Poised to strike, Dread Fang slashed downwards.

Zayn - East Watchtower

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It was a fine day, neither too warm, nor too brisk. A wind just strong enough to muse the hair and cool the skin graced the air. The generous weather brought a sense of calm to Zayn, a feeling he was rarely allowed to experience. Taking advantage of it while it lasted, Zayn chattered idly with a few of the other Blades, replied to the several taciturn messages sent from Dread Fang, and thought about the journey he’d gone through over the past few years of his life. Then, from across the lake, a swarm of black birds flooded the skies, headed towards the village. Not soon after that, he received another message from the scarab:

"Zayn, there is trouble in the village. The one known as Mikan will explain. Come find me at the eastern watch tower."

Well, so much for the zen, contemplative walk into town. There’s always something, Zayn found himself thinking as the sly spymaster explained what had happened. His reverie broken, Zayn, along with the others, rushed into town to save the day. Or at least try to.

He broke off with a small group headed towards the eastern tower; Dread Fang was nowhere in sight. As they approached, Zayn began sizing up those standing in front of the tower, reaching out to brush their thoughts, and trying to figure out a plan of attack. When the person in front of him took out his bow, Zayn palmed one of the knives hidden on his person, eyeing the orc’s steel armor for any weak spots. He doubted he’d be able to do much against armored plate.

The orc spoke his piece a they approached. A dirge? For whom? Zayn mused while opening his mouth to respond, but by the time words were about to leave his mouth, the sound of chitin on chitin and arrows on string filled the air instead. Right. Today’s menu has less introspection, more stabbing.

Zayn moved towards his right, moving behind Kasim. He might not be able to punch through plate, but he might be able to distract the orc and give his scary insectoid friend a chance to slice and dice.

“Jacque, do you know what I hate more than sunshine?” The almost musical voice of the Liverian noble woman was measured and calm. She stood beautiful and composed at six foot flat and in the leather combat jerkin that she was encouraged to wear by the wolf-whistles of a few drunkards, the evening before. They had probably not been aware that the woman was actually a member of the newly created Queen’s Blades, or that she could have killed them very easily, were she not representing a prince. Such a pain, that little entitlement had become.

“Cucumber, m’lady?” Jacques’ voice, in contrast, was monotonous and controlled. Perhaps he had grown bored of being a servant for the Le’roux noble, or more likely it was because the pair had not been so fortunate as to have a good rest for nearly a week. The travelling had been uncomfortable at best.

“No Jacque…well yes, but that is beside the point. What I hate more than sunshine is all this damnable walking. Couldn’t they have provided a coach?” The tone of her voice had a genuine whine, but that was about the only thing genuine about her complaint. As a vampire, she struggled to feel fatigue at the best of times. It came with the whole ‘undead monster’ territory. Add that with the fact she’d travelled at her own pace, beside a man-servant who was shading her with a parasol, no less, and you begin to realise how unfatigued she was.

The reason she complained was a simple one. Basic court etiquette demanded that you have one fake weakness on display; one glaring ‘fault’ that an opponent might look to exploit or that a person might characterise you with. Take the whining, for instance. It portrayed the dark skinned woman as a creature of frailty: A damsel in distress, if you will. People would underestimate her, some might even strive to protect her. That presented her with an advantage. It was the same as in duelling. You present a fake weakness and someone is likely to take the bait. Deception, used correctly, is worth ten bodyguards or all the plate mail you can fit on a person. Which, considering her thin frame, was not that much.

Alicia let out a measured yawn as she contemplated the meeting ahead. She would be greeting with the fascinating matriarchs of the Renaltan kingdom. One of them, Kouri was of great interest to the vampire. She was rumoured to be a great many things: a ravishing beauty a competent swordsman, and a mage to boot. The other one was equally fascinating, although Alicia’s interest was a bit dampened by the knowledge of lycanthropy. She suspected that the second queen would have a healthy contempt for the Liverian noble.

Out of the blue, something took to interrupting the peace. The sky was darkened as a flock of ravens: A number in the thousands, no less, took to swarming towards the town. If ever there was a bad omen…

As if to compound the omen, a figure was rushing towards the group. She informed the gathered blades of an attack on their destination, and Alicia let out an open sigh. Jacque, who had been silent for as long as she had, could tell that tension was mounting in Alicia’s muscles. The tension was like a razor’s edge, the razor being that of an excited Alicia. She was looking to be introduced to a test on her very first mission for the Queens of Renalta. What a titillating concept!

“Jacque, hand me my weapons.” Obliging, Jacque handed the woman the parasol, careful not to let a ray of sunlight drift past the provided shade, before he advanced towards the donkey that had been trailing behind the pack. No self-respecting noble could be expected to carry her own luggage, after all. She had ordered Jacque to acquire her a weight bearing beast: and he’d returned with Beatrix.

Off of Beatrix, Jacque withdrew two long, thin bundles. He carefully unwrapped the two bundles and handed Alicia both weapons, which were swiftly looped into the sides of her belt. Two rapiers, one of steel and one of silver, both as finely crafted as money could buy. It took her a minute to be prepared and in that time, a good number of individuals had abandoned their position in the pack of Queen’s blades and left for various locations. Spotting one man in mid run, Alicia decided to follow after him, parasol still in hand as she half-jogged, half-sprinted towards the watch tower. She felt the light breeze pick up as her pace did, and the feel of wind touching against her neck was as delightful as a lover’s. A broad smile formed on her lips, revealing an elongated fang.

Alicia arrived much at the same time as Dirge began to speak. Her attention was solely on him and the way he spoke, not on the attacks put against the bomb makers themselves. ”people certainly like to rush things here. How boring. Even logic dictates that an attack like this should have been coordinated with a distraction for the orc.” Her silver eyes visibly rolled as she stopped between the orc and the archer: after he’d fired the first shot, of course. She cleared her throat and adjusted the parasol slightly: She was less-than-happy that the building provided so little shade, It would prove disadvantageous for her, should the orc manage to break the Parasol.

“Dirge, was it? I apologise for my rude associates: they clearly lack class. I am Lady Alicia Le’roux, member of the Queen’s blade and quite possibly an opponent of yours…” Her fingers rested on the pommel of her steel rapier: ready to draw the blade as soon as the orc made a movement towards her. She waited for him to finish doing whatever he would in response to Dread Fang and Kasim’s attacks. “…Although I must ask, is that really what you want? You may be in the sworn service of one James Moriarty: but not all service is sworn willingly. Tell me, Dirge. Do you truly wish to fight and possibly die for this Moriarty fellow? Would he do the same for you?” She withdrew the rapier from her hip with a practiced flair. It was all for show, of course, but it served to demonstrate at least some of her talent to Dirge, before he made the vital decision. “Answer with words or answer with your steel. Either way, I am eager to hear your response.” Her lips curled into a sultry smile as she stared into Dirge’s eyes. To meet a creature who fascinated her so quickly. What an interesting day, this was turning into.

West Watch Tower -- Abida Qisaf

After the out of breath spymaster had explained the situation, the Blade's were advised to split into separate groups. Members quickly began breaking off, heading towards the central and eastern parts of the time. Abida looked upwards, shielding her eyes from the midday light. "The sun travels west," she mused, "and so shall I." Ravens with black wings continued to flit across the sky as she looked, their paths leaving shadows on her vision even when she turned her gaze back to the horizon.

She set off at a quick jog, not waiting to see who else followed. The greatsword slung across her back shifted as she leaned forward into the movement, it's familiar weight pulling at her as always. Deviating from the path in lieu of the fields, Abida let the tall wheat stalks brush against and past her. Their leaves and tips felt almost frisky as they harmlessly slid across her bare hands and neck.

She drew to a halt as the tower rose up ahead of her. Four militia stood guard atop it, seemingly oblivious to the device among them. Confused, Abida absently rubbed at the tattoos near her eyes. The spymaster had mentioned an illusionist; perhaps these militia were not as real as they appeared. She moved closer and whistled to catch their attention, hoping that any illusions lying upon the tower were not too powerful to blind even her magicked eyes.

---

Town Square -- Thailen Vicarris

The journey to Arian had been an ordeal in silence. One of her traveling companions, accompanied by a servant and donkey, spoke with an accent Thailen recognized as being of a Liverian noble. When she went to begin a conversation with the noble woman however, she saw the distinctive silver eyes of a vampire. Disgusted, she had turned away only to nearly walk into the minotaur and centaur, both of whom were loud and boisterous beyond a fault. The wide array of the unholy and bizarre that found itself a part of the Queen's Blades only increased Thailen's disillusionment to the point of disgruntled silence up until the spymaster Mikan came running up to them from Arian.

As the panting women finished explaining the situation, Thailen had little time to think over options before others began calling out their intentions and moving off. In a few short moments, several members of the group had split off, with little in the way of planning. Still, with Dean and Mikan both present, Thailen decided not to voice her criticisms. Noting that the only person who had left for the town square so far was an apparently unarmed woman in a cloak, Thailen elected to direct her sword there. "I'll head to the town square," she said before moving off.

Even with brisk strides, she found herself lagging behind the cloaked woman's jog. She kept her pace steady anyway, not wanting to tire herself prematurely. Upon arriving, a group of militia came into view. One of them said something upon seeing the group, but Thailen herself was still too far back to hear. As the woman began to reply to the militia, Thailen once more picked up on the familiar accent of a Liverian, although this time less pronounced. She let the woman talk to the unusually frightened militia, and continued onwards and past towards the fountain.

Aëyr, selkie. Western Watch Tower.
Slipper, Stealthy, Endurance Training; running and aquatic conditions.

---

Walking slowly near the rear of the group, Aëyr sipped some water from her canteen. Though she had grown accustomed to the relative dehydration of the landborne races ever since she'd lost her coat in the heat of the merchant ship, she was still aquatic by nature, and always preferred to keep water flowing through her.

Her companions, the Queen's Blades, fascinated her. Born in isolation and raised in the confines of a Southblood brothel, she had seen little in the way of the many races of the world. Selkies, merfolk, humans, elves, goblins, orcs... Those had been the norm in her world, the beings she shared the land beneath the sky with. And though here, amongst these warriors and mages, such races took rank, others less known to her made their way. Greef, the centaur; Drah-za, the sprite; and Dread Fang, the scarab. If scarab is all that he can be said to be.

She heard a commotion from the front of the group, and edged her way into earsight. A danger was unraveling in the village, and their help would be needed immediately. The group split in what seemed to her to be a disorganized frenzy at the words of the danger's herald.

Aëyr stood transfixed for a moment, uncertain as to where to go. There were no clear indicators of what path would suit her talents most.

In the spur of the moment, the dark-skinned woman caught her eye. A fellow slave, she pondered. As Abida moved off, Aëyr rushed over to follow close behind. Her decisive movement towards the tower reassured Aëyr, who was not much of a leader.

She managed to keep up with her almost effortlessly, and they arrived at the Tower in good time. Surprisingly, there was little action here. Almost no sings of trouble whatsoever, the guards manning their posts as if naught were awry.

The crows caught her eye, as she apparently caught hers. Untying her sling from around her waist, she placed a smooth stone into its pouch and slowly began to swing it in circles at her side. She was ready to lash out at any bird that should take flight towards them.

West Watch Tower

Naream looked unimpressed at his fellow 'Queens Blades' the entire time they were travelling together, for a brief moment he had been intrigued with the other Drow that were present but when he found out it was just a priestess bitch and associated lackey he ignored them, the giant walking and telepathic scarab was also a interesting oddity, but his interest in that one was more on a... academic level, he wondered if that shell of his would stay intact and strong upon death. Such musings passed as a familiar face came out of breath to the column of Queens Blades, Mikan of all people, out of breath but telling quite the tale of a mad illusionist with a sinister plot for the town where the two queens were located.

He listened to the descriptions of the 'hot zones' in the town and ultimately just shrugged, if goign along with this meant he was eventually going to get what he wanted... if it wasn't some carrot on a stick they held out in front of him to lure him. If that was the case... well he was Drow, revenge and savoring how to do it was a trademark of his species. Eventually he walked towards Mikan while some of the others already divided on where to go and he nodded to her. "Mikan."

The green haired girl turned and blinked, before smiling wide. "Naream!? You are still alive?" She let out a giggle and grinned at him. "And you became a Queens Blade? She then frowned and pouted, "Wait, why didn't you came to see me? Or was Mikan not worth your time to visit? Hmm?"

He just smiled and shrugged, "I would love to have seen you after I escaped that place my master send me to, before I stabbed him in the back, but I had more pressing concerns." For a moment the look on his face got dark and twisted with anger before he shook it off and just shrugged. "Princess- I mean Queen Kouri had decided to take that precious book from my master, by rights it is mine, my heritage and inheritance. So when I heard it was in the capital I cam looking for it there... funny thing about breaking into the mage guild with an all powerful and ancient mage residing there, they don't take well to stealing, even if the property is mine to begin with." He raised his hands and showed the shackles that kept his hands together and then looked down and shook his feet to make the chains there jingle and jangle too. "So got a choice, if you can call it that, execution for being a necromancer and a burglar, who might or might not have wounded, allegedly killed a couple of mage students or join the Queens Blades."

Mikan grinned, "Oh is that so? So you decided to join up, huh? Well good for you."

He decided not to say he had chosen execution at first but then changed his mind when they came with the carrot on a stick, that if he served with loyalty he would get the necromantic tome, which was still rightfully his to begin with! Instead he just smiled and shrugged, "Pretty much... so would love to help, only." He showed the shackles again, "Care to help me remove these?"

She just grinned and winked, "Aww but I could have such fun with you in shackles and chains, don't you agree?"

He shivered seeing that smile again after so long and let out a cough, before quickly shaking his head clearing it of any images of what she could do to him while he was in chains. "So... I am guessing those slu- I mean assassins are still in the picture, because I guess that comment about chains is their influence?" She just smirked and instead of answering came out with some tools and within seconds had the shackles and chains removed, leaving him rubbing his wrists to keep the blood flowing, well one of his wrists, since the other was rather devoid of blood vessels, or muscles, or any flesh for that matter. "My thanks. Right then I won't hold up any of your time and head to this western watch tower, sounds fascinating."

She giggled, "Have fun."

He frowned, "Say aren't those two Queens, Kouri and the werewolf, in danger? Yet you act so..."

She kept grinning and shrugged, "They have been through worse, you should know you were there for a few of those times, so I don't feel the need to worry, besides." She smirked, "I believe in them. Now off you go, have fun and make some friends, alright?"

He looked at her and blinked, shaking his head. "You are a strange individual... oh well." He just shook his head and went on his way, chuckling.

When he arrived at the tower some others were also already there and he just looked at it for a moment... and then shrugged, he had seen more impressive buildings in his time and instead looked around for any potential danger, looking carefully at the ravens, ordinarily he liked ravens, carrion birds were a normal sight around his preferred method of working after all but these... these looked rather intelligent out of their eyes, a bit too much. He looked at the other Queens Blades present, he opted to wait and observe for now, no sense in being the first to suggest something or stand out, that was not the Drow way.

Western Watch Tower

The twist of events had been too sudden. Esyllt had barely even acquainted herself with the rest of the Queen's Blades before she was told to get off her horse and head to the Western Tower of Arian Village (a most confusing name, given the size of the town.) It had been mere minutes since she had been in gallop before a messenger told the young knight her duty had already begun. Esyllt had caressed the side of the horse shortly; it was the only familiar feeling in the chaos she had just landed in. Although Esyllt had been born and raised in Renalta, she had not lived in such colourful towns nor presences. Arian was as crowded as the markets back home, but far grander. If a city could make one feel claustrophobic; panic was already crossing the streets. To swim upstream a river of people... It was an alien feeling and Esyllt was felt the pressure of the mission weighing down on her shoulders; with this little familiarity it felt as if she was facing the threat alone...

Of course, that was not true. With her was a company of women, set aside one male drow, whom had all heeded the Queens their call. Ahead went a dark elven woman with braided hair; effortlessly carrying a sword that at first glance looked far too heavy and unwieldy for her physique. She seemed to be engaged into a staring contest with the crows circling around the western tower. Another woman joined her, armed with a sling and ready to hit two birds with one stone. The drow stayed back, observing their allies, which all in all felt like the most natural to Esyllt. She had no idea of the capabilities of her newfound team, and so Esyllt found herself next to the drow watching the dark elf and the selkie.

“Esyllt Boudica, pleased to make your acquaintance.” Esyllt stated formally, without keeping her eyes off their front line and the ravens. “I apologise for the rushed introduction, but what do you make of this? The ravens seem unnatural.” She inquired. As far as Esyllt had read, the drow were masters of many kinds of magic. Perhaps this one had an idea of what exactly was going on...

Rayvon Krayvitch – Town Square
Defender, Adrenaline, Fortitude – Divine Martyr, Orthodoxy Awareness

---

“Vis a laurus...” Rayvon murmurs beneath her breath, thumb idly caressing over the worn smooth cross as she clutches it over her heart. With her next breath, she utters the next phrase, “Laurus a juris...” She takes a deep breath, staring ahead as she raises her head to survey the motley assortment about her. She tenses, picking up on some of their races. Her eyes linger on the group of drow before looking away, lips curling up in disgust. They were known as a treacherous race. So far from the light, it was no doubt, they could be nothing but trouble. She squares her shoulders and raises her head proudly, trying to ignore the ache in her limbs at having walked so far in full suit. The cloak, drawn over her eyes and wrapped about her frame in an attempt to suppress her own light and hide the glow of her eyes did not seem to help much either. The heat of mid-day blaring down upon the dark fabric, overtop plate, chain and leather... It was growing rather hot inside. Swallowing and trying to loosen the tie of her cloak ever so slightly, hoping the breeze caught and would flow through refreshingly, she resumes her recitation with her footfalls. “Otii evenio... a pura et pia... Et vigilo evenio... a trumphare et gloriae... At me redimo... culpae de mi majoris... Insisto transduco vitium... Et redimire... me candor...”

With the last few words, she steps off awkwardly, the muscles of her back clenching as if to readjust to her corrections. The correction does not come as she remembers yet again what was taken from her. She stumbles and struggles to get her feet back beneath her as she releases her cross. Rayvon's hands shoot up to clutch the hood of her cloak, drawing it further down to hide the flushing of her cheeks at this embarrassment. As she recovers her balance, she attempts to act as if nothing had happened, gaze cast away from any of the other Blades as if nothing had happened. None of them were staring upon her, certainly. She did not feel their red-hot gaze upon her back. It was just the heat of the day getting to her. Surely.

In her own concentration upon the decretum, she was at a loss to have noticed the spymaster arrive. And only when everyone seemed to still and then take off, did she realize that something had happened. She strains her ears, moving forward to listen to the words of Dean. She perks up, to hear her time of service was finally upon them. It was her chance to prove herself. However, she was not as ready to run at break-neck speeds as many were. Still, picking up her pace, she follows the trail clear into the town square and takes note of the panic of the town and takes a deep breath as she raises her head, hood falling back and murmurs, “Though corruption surround me, I will not fall. I will persevere through shadow and temptation.” Her senses spread out and a chill runs down through her spine as she looks around wildly. The entire area felt blanketed with the fallen, a thick oppressive fog, but there was something... More notable.

Quickly, she raises a hand back and withdraws her blade, cloak slipping back and revealing her faint glow as she calls out her challenge, “Fiend, while you may hide, the devout will triumph yet! You merely prolong the inevitable for your crimes. Step forth and challenge me, foul one, and I shall issue you a swift and painless death!”

---

Maevan Lucre – West Watch Tower
Heavy Hitter, Endurance Training, Sharp – Mechanist Matron, The Only Real Power is Firepower

---

Fafnir walked, standing taller than most of the mortals about him... Save the equestrian and bovine warriors. A jet of stream drifts from his nostrils as he fumes over that simple fact. This diminutive form took from his glory. Perhaps if he were to rear upon his hind quarters, though, and attempt to walk like the lesser creatures he may overshadow them. A low grinding runs through his body as his wings shift in agitation and he works his jaw, gnashing his fangs. Of course, he was under explicit orders from the little deceiver upon his back. It infuriated him to no end, being lumped in with a common mule, and he could tell from the way she slumped forward upon his form that she was indeed being so lethargic as to drift in and out of consciousness. Of course, she had instructed him to allow her to ride upon his back and he was bound to listen to the descendant of the original green-haired morsel. Yet, that was not to stop him from giving her an uncomfortable experience!

With a shifting of his plates, steam begins to work out from an exhaust pipe and floods right against her face and she wakes with a startled yelp, rubbing at her goggles to clear the fog from her vision. Maeven blinks wildly, rubbing her now all too warm face and glaring at the back of Fafnir's head. With a whine, she grips a spine upon his back and hefts her body as she repeatedly kicks his sides in anger, “You jerk! I was sleeping back here!”

A low rumble of metallic laughter peels out from the dragon hoarse and high-pitched as he continues to trail after the group lazily, “I was well aware, small charlatan.”

Maeven huffs and pounds his back with her knuckles, “Well, don't do it again. It's not nice. And what if that steam had been hot?! You could have scalded my face right off! Then I'd look like... Like...” She furrows her brow trying to think of what was comparable... Nothing descriptive enough came to mind. She shakes her head, “If you want me to be all specific, I can Fafnir. But I have some respect for you. So don't make me!”

Fafnir lets out a low peel of metal grinding in high-pitched shrieks as he growls at her, “You will do no such thing, spawn of the swindler!”

Maeven crosses her arms, holding on with her legs, “Just watch me, you big hunk of scrap! I will shut you down so fast that— ” She stops as a flash of movement up ahead catches her gaze. Her jaw drops and she leans forward, climbing up Fafnir's neck as she cranes to get a better look. The dragon looses a static-filled snarl but ultimately does nothing as he watches the woman as well. “What is she saying, Faf?”

The dragon quirks his head, as if trying to hear that way, though he had no need to. “Something about Queens and danger, I believe... Do mine eyes decieve me or is that morsel kin of yours?”

Maeven remains silent before tapping his neck with her boot, “Get closer.”

They listen as instructions are issued out, but she was too fascinated with this other woman. She shared many of her characteristics and Fafnir confirmed it. His senses were sharper than hers even in this form. She drapes lazily over his neck as she listens, latching on to every word. So this is the spymaster of Renalta... Interesting... She was about to speak up after the drow departed from her side, but Fafnir interrupts her quickly. “Little one, have you the skills to perhaps engineer myself a superior form befitting of one such as myself?” he demands, lowering head threatening, nearly throwing Maeven off, if not for her clinging to his body, hands grasping tight onto the spines of his neck. Half-dangling upside-down from Fafnir's neck, Maeven looks at Mikan the spymaster and clears her throat, “Who does your hair? I haven't been able to find any dye since coming to these lands..” As if to make a point, she shifts her hair to reveal the green roots. She leans in and hisses to Fafnir, “That is not as close as I meant, you idiot.” A threatening grind comes from Fafnir in response.

"No, sorry little metal head." Mikan giggles and looks to the other. "Hmph... I do my own hair!"

Fafnir looses a puff of cool steam as he inclines his head, “Such a shame, spymaster. It appears I am still bound to the one using me as a tree, then. If you perhaps know of someone else who can do such craft, do tell me. I would kindly work for one not born of a line of snake-tongued liars.” Maeven pouts and shakes her head, “Ignore him. I should have never given him a voice box. He hasn't shut up since.”

"Hmm... How ungrateful! I remember your file now." She stretches out, having caught her breath amidst all the people seeking her attention. In a flirtatious manner she bends over and looks the metal dragon eye to eye. "Besides, there aren't many of my kind alive, and we are some of the only ones who can upgrade you without damaging your soul."

The sockets housing the lights of his eyes flare brighter as Fafnir puffs out cool steam over Mikan's face, mussing her hair contemptuously, “Spymaster, though it may be the case... Why don't you live some years with someone always using you as a common pack mule and guard dog. You will not enjoy it. Especially if it were the result of indentured servitude brought about by deception ages ago.” Maeven reaches out and pats the dragon's jaw softly, “Aww, Faf. It's not like that. You're my best friend!... Just a big, scary, strong one.” At a soft purr of satisfaction at the apparent compliment, Maeven redirects her attention to Mikan, “So, the Queens are in trouble... Need a ride back into town?” Fafnir's plates rattle as he looses in indignant noise, “It would give you a chance to rest your legs and you can hop off if we split ways.”

"Mm... Don't I know more than you could dream." She mutters under her breath, her hand trembling for a moment before she curls it a few times to regain control. "No, no, I think Fafnir would prefer not to be used quite like that. I have a good pair of legs, I can use them." With a soft smile she ushers the pair off. "Now go! Quick! That is a bomb after all, bombs don't wait patiently!"

Fafnir's lights dim as he stairs at the woman before going, with or without consent of the morsel upon his back. “Hey! What's that all about, Faf?!” When he deems himself far enough out of earshot of the woman, his voice a low whisper of air against his normal grinding blast, he answers, “That one, she has an addiction most powerful. That is why she trembled so. I would not trouble her were I you, small rogue.”

They continue on until they reach the Western Tower. Upon arriving, Maeven raises up upon Fafnir, standing in the stirrups as she stares at the scene before her. She shudders and draws her blunderbuss, eying the ravens carefully. “Feeling hungry, Faf?”

“For carrion-feeders? No, I am afraid I must pass.”

Maeven narrows her eyes, still watching the skies. “You can't even taste anything.”

“I still have standards,” he growls, gears whirring and tensing his limbs as he scans the ground diligently.

“You're too stuck up, Faf...” She calls out to the rest of the team warily, looking for anything that appears out of the ordinary, “What's the plan?”

Laenaia, Town Square

The walk to the town of Arian was oppressively quiet for Laenaia, the only constant part of their weird collective of group was the fake whining of the vampiric Liverian noble and the sprite's flitting around. There were small talks here and there, but it was probably because of the opposing nature that some of them seems to have or maybe the Drows, specifically the shackled one trailing with them. Untrustworthy bunch, the lot of them. Laenaia scoffed at the Drows under her cloak before turning her glance to the mechanical dragon in their ranks. The machine was both fearsome and fascinating at the same time. She was curious how it worked but was interrupted when someone ran up to them.

That someone turned out to be the Spymaster for the queen of the country the Blades sworn to and she was there with their first task. Apparently someone had planted bombs in the town and they're to find and dismantle them. Dean suggested that the Blades split off into smaller teams, a good idea if they were not practically strangers. Yet the situation meant they have to and as the Blades wandered off to their own destination, Laenaia lingered for a moment before following the group with the most amount of heavily cloaked and clothed people.

She caught up with the group and found the first cloaked female trying to calm down a guard and the other suddenly, and quite literally, flaring up and shouted a challenge. Laenaia blinked as she stared at the loud zealot with her blue eyes before feeling a familiar brush of a mage's presence that was not coming from the Blades. She muttered an understanding before walking past the woman and towards the one trying to calm down the guards. If the panicking guard were the mysterious mage's fault, then she should be able to help here, shouldn't she?

"Sir, would you please calm down and at least try to tell us what happened here?" Laenaia said, pouring an amount of magic to calm the guard and made him coherent. "It might help us."

West Watch Tower
Draza

---

The sixth, last, and most diminutive of those on their way to the west tower, was also the one most in a hurry. Not that it mattered, her size meant even her hurried pace was still slower than that of her companions. She wasn’t quite sure if she had even chosen the right path to follow along, but if they were to split up relatively evenly, the sheer bulk of those going other ways meant she didn’t have much of a choice.

Arriving alongside a giant mechanical dragon, she made sure to give it a wide berth, just to be safe in case it began to move too fast for her to dodge, or just stepped on her while she isn’t looking. Ahead, she saw the tower, and with some commentary, she knew that there were people atop it, although she couldn’t quite see what was going on. Low vantage point, and all. She huffed and eyed the ravens as she took a step closer.

Illusions? Maybe, but she couldn’t possibly be sure. She jumped up and down, to get a better glimpse of the people atop the tower, and could tell that they were definitely not at ease. She swung her lute around to her front, and strummed it slowly, as she made sure that it was still properly tuned; it was. Her little fingers strummed across the instrument as the dulcet music began to flow from it. Just a little noise for the background, a relaxing slow movement of melody. Hopefully, if nothing else, it would be a soothing experience to mellow the minds around her. Don’t want any scared person making a rash decision.

Speaking up, she called in line with the ebb of her music, “Hark, wary watchmen, so your worry fades. Hither good omen, forsooth the Queen’s Blades.”

Town Square

She was in reverie and was dreaming, eyes moving wildly behind her closed eyelids.

The Great Web, spun by her goddess, normally strong and resilient, gave way to something else. Black tendrils that tore and disintegrated the web whenever they touched it, spreading over it like wildfire. A flash of movement, a long arachnid leg, swinging down like a blade and cutting parts of the healthy web off to stop the spreading of the corruption that had befallen it.

The scene changed, marching, marching boots in the darkness, warriors with white hair and armoured for battle, obeying the commands of females who were also geared for battle, they spoke of cleansing, of extermination, to save the whole. Gesturing to what lay beyond. Others, white hair like theirs, black skin like theirs, but the eyes... the eyes were wrong, frenzied, madness, not armed with weapons and armour, but fists and pure rage as they charged without a mind of their own.

It was mercy.

It was slaughter.

It was filled with the laughter of the mad.

And...

It was a dream.

She opened her eyes and noticed she had a knife in her hand, the blade pressed against the throat of her servant and bodyguard, who looked calmly at it like she always did when this happened when she had to disturb her. She put the knife away and stretched, "What is happening? Have you found out what the delay is?"

Ceann shrugged and gestured behind her, where her mistress could see that the Queens Blades were gathering their gear and setting off, some together, some alone with others following. "There is something going on at the town where we were supposed to meet the two surface queens of Renalta. Illusions and what sounds like someone wanting to make a point, or example."

"I see." She made sure her knifes were in place and then traced her fingers over the handle of her whip on the hook of her belt with a soft smile. "Well then, I suppose that means we have to get to work, yes?" She grinned, showing her teeth and licked her lips. "About time, here I was thinking the surface world was boring, I cannot fathom how you have survived here for a century and a half without getting bored to dead."

Ceann checked her quiver, making sure her regular arrows were separate from the ones that her mistress had prepared for her when she heard to comment. "Not so bad once you get used to it, it offers perspective and a new way of thinking. I gathered the two queens were closest to the town square, the center of the town, I figured you would like to head there above all the other locations two of the 'Heroes' told us about."

She paused, frowning as she looked over her shoulder. "Heroes?"

"The ones called Mikan and Dean, some call them heroes, banishing the gods, restoring the kingdom of Renalta, bringing peace." She was replying before she noticed the look on her mistress's face and went quiet.

She had her eyes narrowed and shook her head speaking in drow, <"Heroes.... Fools, they were fools, they don't know what they have done or what it might unleash, not even we know. But what little we do has brought us here, has brought me here."> She finished preparing and resumed in the crude grumbling that passed as language on this part of the surface. "Lead on."

Moments later they arrived at the center of town and noticed some others had already arrived, Andrea gave them mostly a brief glance while looking elsewhere. Ceann, to her credit, had her bow already strung and a arrow at the ready, eyes darting around the square, rooftops and alleys for threats. Andrea suddenly hissed and waved Ceann away when she turned to look at her in alarm. Ceann could not feel this, there was another mage, a presence, not from the Queens Blades, though she could sense a few with magic potential as well. “Fiend, while you may hide, the devout will triumph yet! You merely prolong the inevitable for your crimes. Step forth and challenge me, foul one, and I shall issue you a swift and painless death!”

She blinked and looked to whom had shouted that and snorted, really? All armoured, waving a pointy metal stick around and saying that kind of prattle? Did that one wanted to be a target? How curious, she took her whip from her waist and tried to focus on the source of the presence of magic, trying to find exactly who or what was emanating it and from where. Then again if the owner of the presence was as brazen as the warrior woman loudmouth then it would be easy, though she doubted they had such luck.

Maher and Nadira Adonai
Ravens Inn
A collaborative post between Genais and myself, with some input from Brovo.

---

Maher listened curiously as Mikan relayed the news of the village, it seemed they were going to have their work cut out for them. He glanced sideways at Nadira who was separated from him by several others. <Women and children, Sister. Shall we?> He said across their link as he turned to watch the Minotaur and Centaur head towards the Inn as well.

Nadiras head turned toward her brother as his voice filled her head, she watched the centaur and Minotaur head off toward the inn and just nodded her head at Maher. <Sounds good to me Brother, perhaps those two could do with some magical back up>

Maher didn't reply directly, instead just sending a mental nod of sorts as he hoisted his staff and broke out into a fast jog towards the inn. There was no hope of the twin keeping up with the two beastmen however and as a result they arrives shortly after the illusionist had shifted from his raven form. Maher tried not to scowl at the man as he spoke, clearly the man was unhinged and that would make things difficult.

Shortly after they arrived they witnessed the Minotaur throwing a punch toward the villager that spoke about the queens arse. <well, seems a lively pair, and an insane shapeshifter. this could be... fun> "So we're playing games then"

"Peoples lives are never a game." Maher said sharply, grounding his staff sharply for emphasis. "In fact it would not surprise me," He said louder and clearly intending to get the illusionists attention. "If all of this was simply a trap with no viable solution other than our deaths and the deaths of everyone in that inn." he continued before looking straight at James. "All for your sick amusement, despite your claims of helping us help them." Throughout the tirade Maher had only raised his voice for emphasis rather than any anger, though his eyes showed clearly enough that he was not particularly happy, the same feeling was even more evident to Nadira with the link the two of them shared. <That was either very stupid... or maybe a little bit clever...> he said silently to his sister after a moment of thought over what he had just done.

Nadira simply smiled at the shapeshifter and rested her head on her brothers shoulder. <You can take the lead on this one Brother, I've learnt not to goad insane people. I once ended up in a bad situation after goading Teila a little too much.> Nadira shuddered remembering that particular conversation with frank who at the time she believed was Teila.

"Hm..." James seems the mull the statement over, though on the surface it appeared to have little effect on his ego. "You just, don't, get, it." He says each word with an emphasis of his own, as though speaking to a child. "I," He points to himself, "am more than just some... Entertainer! I am... An artist!... And surely as you know... You can't make a masterpiece without using some red paint." His grin was meglomaniacal. It was likely this man had long ago abandoned empathy as a part of his transcendence into whatever godhood he thought he had... Presuming, of course, it was not all just an act.

Maher flicked the stopper on one of his waterskins and drew his staff back horizontal to his body, A small cantrip spell caused some of the water from the open skin leap out and rush towards the tip of the staff as Maher thrust it towards the Illusionists face, the water quickly reached the tip and formed itself into a spear of ice effectively turning the staff into an improvised spear.

Aslo had been content to walk silently as the group made their way towards Arian. Some of the group seemed quite pleased to be in the beautiful countryside with it's lush trees and open plains. He was somewhat less impressed. Compared to the Freeholds the area was fairly chilly, and he had always found a certain beauty in the sand and death that the Holds held.

Trouble had been brewed, and as everyone else had done, it had come time to choose a path. Quickly Aslo weighed options and information. He found that while he may know roughly the same amount about everyone in the group, that information was more or less trivial in trying to discern whether he'd survive working with them on a collaboration.

His eyes floated through their ranks until he found the pair of mercenaries fragmenting off towards the inn. Finding this, his mind was made up, and he began to follow behind. There was a certain safety in a pair of brutes who knew their business, and he had faith in their professionalism.

As the Mercenaries began to speak to this James illusionist as he was, Aslo began to become very concerned for those inside. It seemed that he had very little regard for human life. A quality that makes for a good employer, but a terrible adversary. He listened intentlty to the conversation, attempting to piece together what awaited them inside.

However before much information could be gathered from either party, the man best described as "Warrior Monk" decided to stab out towards James. At forst it didn't appear to be too hostile an intention, just a blunt staff, but a quick stream of liquid flowed from one of the waterskins that the man wore, and froze onto the spear as ice. Water magic it was, and an aggressive additude to boot. This was becoming a much more interesting adventure.

Schizo Dwarf, Raven’s Inn

As Mikan explained the situation at hand to the group of Queen’s Blades, Algrimm was less interested by what she was saying and more so by the bright green hair that adorned the towering woman’s head. In his studies, he’d never before encountered a subject with such outright manifestations of Mechanist blood, even amongst his current companions within the Queen’s Blades, including the Tulerian girl, whose aptitude for technology belied an obvious Mechanist heritage, they were nothing compared to the woman before him. He had to have her for an examination at some point soon, before the others distracted him with their incessant prattling. Of course, there were other, more pressing issues than the woman in front of him (though the matter of her lineage was certainly very important), such as the small matter of the predicament involving the bombs and what-not.

Making his way to the Raven’s Inn, Algrimm visibly groaned when he realized who else would be handling the business there. The Minotaur and the Centaur, while both certainly capable in combat, weren’t as intelligent as they’d like to think they were. On the other hand, there were the twins, who were nothing special, other than being unusually closer than was the norm for human siblings. They probably indulge in each other’s flesh. Good to see some of the family’s tenets spreading to these lesser beings. Algrimm thought as he approached.

Of course, things seemed to be coming to a head by the time he arrived, at about the same time as the final member of their little party. The minotaur had floored the old man waiting for them for some perceived slight of some sort, while the male twin had used magic to create an impromptu spear of some sort and had it leveled at the mastermind of this plot, the so-called Illusionist. Clearly, the others relied more on their emotions than rational, logical thinking. In that case, he’d have to take charge of the situation. So, thus encouraged, he stepped in between the Illusionist and the others. Putting on the most genteel attitude he could while amongst the taint of lesser beings, he began.

”Please allow me to apologize, Mr, Moriarty is it not? My companions are unused to true craftsmen such as ourselves. You are an artist correct? I’d love to see some examples of your past work. Compare and contrast, you know? Algrimm Ironblood, at your service. Perhaps you’ve heard of some of my work, or even seen some of it yourself?” As he spoke, he held his hand out, offering it so the man could shake it. Still smiling, the others began to chatter as he tried to focus on the situation at hand.

That tall one back there, the one with the green hair, ya? You should have gotten a bit closer, and let ole Rorin do the talking...and the screwing.

---

Oh shut up, you filthy creature. The things some of your kind do for money, it’s simply horrendously disgraceful. Do you have no sense of dignity?

---

I’ve got dignity all right. It’s hanging between me legs, care to take a peek, love?

---

Ugh. Utter perversity.

---

Dear Johann,
I’ve lost count of how long I’ve inhabited this diminutive vessel. My host, as I’ve taken to calling him, is quite the knowledgeable one. He’s a student of anatomy as I’ve discovered, and sometimes we communicate back and forth through his strange mind. He’s an introverted person, this one, but he possesses a hunger for knowledge concerning the flesh and its secrets, whatever that means. No wonder he sought me out. Anyway, the others grow tediously loud, as the performer and the prude clash swords over something or the other, while the host’s other guests are oddly quiet. So for now, I bid you goodbye.
Best wishes,
Johann Mecklenberg.

"That is for disrespecting your queen. Her arse is of no concern to you and you'll find it in you to trouble yourself not to make such disrespectful marks in future." --Muderok, Page 1.

---

West Watch Tower

---

Abida Qisaf would notice nothing particularly wrong with the militia save the shimmer in their eyes. It reflected back at her like water, and their cheerful expressions seemed utterly wrong for what the situation around was. Still, further examination proved critical, the breeze that came through had no impact on their clothing. They were unaffected, ultimately, by their environment. The ravens too each respectively seemed out of place, but for altogether different reasons. They seemed much heavier than their initial, small frame belied based on the way the grass had flattened beneath their feet. Strange, indeed.

Aëyr's only significant action to wield a stone in her sling also yielded no reaction from the militia at the top of the tower. The closest raven to her, however, only a few feet away, cawed in anger, and the woman that stood beside it grabbed her arm in pain. If it wasn't already apparent, these ravens were not ordinary feathered fiends, by any stretch of the imagination.

"Naream does no significant action, and the ravens, in turn, hold no malice for him. Instinctively they even seemed more comfortable around him, though the look in their eyes betrayed less friendly thoughts.

Esyllt Boudica also, in turn, committed to no significant acts within the area. Passively standing and acting as rear guard, she saw nothing of any remote interest whatsoever beyond what had already been noticed.

Maevan Lucre had arrived and apparently found herself equally perplexed with what plan to execute in order to move forward."

A face hidden in shadows frowned in disappointment as she puts a quill and piece of parchment down. A big red button and not one had thought of simply pushing it... What a depressingly paranoid lot! Just as the one who orchestrated it all was about to give up and hit the trigger on the detonator out of boredom, a wondrous voice rang out, so lovely and small! So, from the top of the watch tower a young girl no older than twelve, with wild brown hair and a brown complexion to her skin appeared. Sitting on the edge of the watch tower facing the group, she dangled her legs and waved with a childish grin, full of mischief and yet somehow curled slightly in irritation. "Hiyaaaaaa~ Hark hark hark!" She says before pulling out a chess board. "I waaaannaaaa plaaay! The head of the carnival left me here and wouldn't say why, but told me if I play a game with you Queen's Blades peoples, then if you win, the little peoples go free!"

She twirls a pawn between her index and middle fingers, rolling it underneath one and over the other in a figure eight pattern as her purple coloured eyes looked down on them all with a twisted sense of grandeur and self-importance, like a prideful actor in a play. "Buuut... If you looose..." The pawn snaps between her fingers, displaying unusual strength, or clever illusion. "... Got it?... Soooo..." She gets back onto her feet, remaining on the top floor. "Who wants to play with me!"

---

East Watch Tower

---

As Kasim's bolt was loosed and Dread Fang attacked, Dirge stood still, not making a single reaction as his two comrades screamed in bloody anguish. Another moment passed and the orc took a single glance at Zayn, whose attempted attack was given away by attempting to buy time for his scarab companion, said companion who was busily lamenting the taste of dirt and wood. With a single backhand, he knocked Zayn several feet away, but the strike wasn't to injure or kill, it was merely to push away. A moment of hesitation follows with the orc's voice passing through Zayn's mind. "Telepath..." The orc grunts. "...Nice trick..." He was likely referring to Zayn's empathic connection. In tandem with Kasim's subliminal messaging, it must have at least a little influence upon the orc, even through his own telepathy and battle training.

The ravens fly from his shoulder pads as he takes a couple steps away from the bomb and the ones who had been working upon it. After a few moments it became apparent that the ones who had been working upon the bomb were merely animated dolls made out of wood and dirt, fashioned with make-up and magic to look real despite being toys. The illusion shattered, they went limp. The ravens on the other hand each landed on the ground and shapeshifted into orcs themselves, smaller ones albeit, likely half-orcs, both wielding leather armour, a steel shield, and a war axe. One wore a silver helmet, the other did not, was about the only remarkable difference the two shared.

Dirge bows, as do the two half-orcs. "Lady Alicia." He then looks around at the group. "Five versus three." His lip curls. "You should have brought more of your atrocious militia to fight orcs." He quickly pulls the two handed warhammer off his back and yells loudly and proudly, the kind that only an orc warlord might have. "DAREK! ORAN! TO WAR!" Darek, the one with the silver helmet, moved with Oran to face Kasim and Alicia, while Dirge moved towards Zayn and the scarab. He frowned as he looked upon them both, and spoke with telepathy to the entire group, to make his intentions clear. "If you flee now, I will not have to kill you. Being human and..." His look turns to one of perplexity. "...Bug... I would understand."

As strange as his master was, the knight followed his duty to the letter... Whether he liked it or not.

---

Town Square

---

"A B-Bomb?! A BOMB?!??!" One of the five men near the fountain started to weep. "WE ARE ALL GOING TO D--" The man who had initially greeted them with fear hushed the man with a flick of his wrist. It was apparent this was the highest ranked of the militia here, or perhaps simply the most respected. A young man, white and a little on the short side, though with a pair of astonishingly silver eyes now that the vampire could get a good look at him. His brood was certainly not that of Diana, however, or the sun would have surely burned him by now in his panicked state. "M-my name is W-Wayne, my l-lady, I ap-pologize, th-there is a haze in our eyes--"

One of the militia stops Thailen just as she is about to reach the fountain, pulling out his short sword and threatening her with it. "S-STOP!" He yells out in fright as Wayne turns and glares at him. "C-c-calm." He tries to say, still shaking in fear at whatever was going on. The man did not listen. "How do I know you are not one of them! YOUR SKIN! I see it beneath the skin your blood is red like demons!" He cries out in fear as one of his larger comrades shakes his head and then hits him hard on the back of the head, knocking him out cold. He bows politely to Thailen. "Liverian born myself. Name's Eldrick... What he was trying to say is don't touch the fountain." It seemed the mere presence of the two Queen's blades was enough to start calming the rest of them down, when Wayne had started to calm at the presence of the Diana brood vampire. This was only furthered by Laenaia, whose magic soothed it further, and as a bonus spent little of her own energy to accomplish.

Rayvon's challenge was the last straw as one of the militia clapped slowly. A man with utterly no remarkable features save the way his silver eyes looked upon them all, like Wayne's but with hunger and vicious intent. "Not bad, children." He snaps his fingers and at the core of the fountain, the bomb was revealed to them. "... However..." He looks at the drow, licking his lips. "(Drow): You are not the only masters of spiders, priestess..." With that said in the Drow language, a pair of large spiders come bursting through the door of a house nearby. The militia cry out again, save for Wayne, as a few spirits 'appear', likely ghosts of ancestors across this town, though all the magically inclined there would feel this disgusting abuse of magic from the illusionist himself, the vampire. Wayne looks back in confusion. "Jeremy?" The vampire shook his head. "James has a... Unique way with words that I could not ignore, brother." Wayne growls in anger and immediately sides with the Queen's Blades, while the rest of the militia remained frozen in terror.

The two spiders took positions guarding the fountain, while Jeremy vanished from sight, invisible to the eye, but whose general presence could still be felt. Wayne looked around in confusion, his fangs present for all to see. "What is the plan?" He asks aloud as his heritage grew clearer the two vampires there: He was of Malaki's brood.

---

Raven's Inn

---

"Mirror mirror on the wall..." James was reciting something that related to no particular story, and tapped his lip as he pondered Gryff's question. He might have even answered had it not been for Maher, lashing out with his icy staff. James however merely grinned as one of the militia suddenly bolted from his position to take the blow, being impaled on the icy spike at the end of the spear he looks up, his lips moved in tandem with James' lips. "Why... I had a family..." James then chuckles as the man's life fades away entirely. The rest of the militia unsheathed their various weapons and looked at Maher. With a snap of James' fingers they spoke in unison. "You killed, you killed, that's a crime you know." James then shakes his head and looks at the middle aged man who slowly got back up to his feet, disturbed by the sight of his men being so easily turned into pawns. "The guardian is big and heavy. That is all you need to know!" He says as he motions to the door, causing it to open into complete blackness.

With that said, he looks at the group and motions them in. "It's a one of a time Carnival special! Don't keep me waiting, or the tickets will expire, and nobody wants that!" He says with a mad grin, looking at Maher especially. "After all, I have at least all these men more to give to your hands if you wish to stain them so badly!"

As for the dwarf, James' eyes turned to a bit of a disturbed look at a single glance. "Eugh! No, dreadful, do not compare our works you... Brute!"

West Watch Tower
Draza

---

Her fingers nimble on the strings, she looked upon the perched girl and her childish voice and threatening authority. An illusion, a trick, to beguile the mind she was, but the game was one that Draza could play. Her time with royals was a learned one for her, and she figured herself suitably capable at the game. But alas, would not the nefarious masterminds of such a threat cheat? No. For if they were to cheat and lie about their terms, then there would be no good coming from doing naught for their would simply go through with the threats if they were capable, and capable they were, regardless. No harm could come from trying, and if it is rigged, the result would be the same had no attempt be made.

The song had changed and with game proposed, Draza sung again in response, “Hail, friend, lass oft nice, thy challenge I say. Tis their life our price, if we nea say yea? Verily, accept, ye game of king’s chess. Grammarcy except, to cheat is ne’r bless.”

She swung her lute back around behind her again, and stood with as much boldness as one her size could muster, “Do the challenged have the honour of choosing the location of the game, or who plays first?” She was confident, she thought maybe she could, if not win the game in fair play against the apparent girl, could talk her into foregoing the match for a more reasonable mutually beneficial outcome. Perhaps even befriend her. There are few people too far gone to be brought around to the right and proper side, or so Draza believed.