Torva could feel Hagumi's cheek against his, her cool skin refreshing as the dense crowd had grown quite warm since the start of the competition. Among the many feathers fluttering about the coliseum, a lone white feather came to rest on his nose briefly before being deftly plucked away. Fighting the urge to sneeze, Torva wrapped his arm around Hagumi's waist as she did the same, enjoying that for the first time since entering Adalrich nobody seemed to take notice. Commenting on her observations, he joked "It's nice to see even the prim and proper seraphim elite know how to have a good time. Maybe there's hope for this world yet."

Of course it wouldn't last.

The scene quickly went from festive to gruesome as a bounty hunter stole the show, all eyes on him as he decapitated who he claimed was a wanted criminal. Instinctively Torva jumped to his feet, arms wide to block Hagumi and those around him should an attack occur, although none came. The crowd was tense, and from his vantage point he could see at least a dozen people at the ready to attack. Torva himself was less shocked than many of the other bystanders, as former king Raha had performed quite a few public executions of his own as a show of force, but by the reaction of the crowd it was obvious Seraphim found the practice a bit... primitive. Much to his surprise, the vigilante was allowed to walk off, or at least exit the arena unharmed. It was then, moments later, that the master of ceremonies finally spoke, trying to restore order. "Ah... erm... ahem... It seems today's festivities have energized the crowd, but let's not lose focus!"

A loud gong erupted through the arena as the magical flames at each workbench instantly turned an icy blue, their heat dissipating although the flames themselves remaining. "And with that the first round is concluded! Contestants will be called up in blocks to display their weapons to the judges. Fans are welcome to take this time to use the washroom or purchase food and drink from one of our many vendors. The next round will begin in 10 minutes!"

Almost immediately the first round of inventors were called up to the panel of judges at the far end of the arena. Opposite the judging, a large board had been placed with slots along two columns. As inventors came and went, their names appeared magically on boards in the left column, with their current cumulative scores on the right. A number of seraphim, opting out of the first round, automatically appeared at the bottom with a score of zero. Going by the first dozen or so contestants, the scores tended to average in the 70s, with nobody breaking 90.

"I was going to suggest a snack, but I'm not hungry any more" Torva said, finally taking a seat after the tension seemed to have lifted. It seemed even the battle-hardened Hagumi was affected by the execution, slipping from her usual decor in a rare display of race-bias. In the grand scheme of things Torva had heard uttered, Hagumi's line didn't even register on the scale, but it was still surprising to hear it from her lips. It seems even the most liberal of souls cannot undue a childhood of indoctrination so easily. Still, he understood what she was really getting at and pulled her close, resting her head against his chest. Taking a deep, slow breath, Torva watched as her head rose and fell against his body, hoping the slow steady rhythm of his heart might help calm her troubled heart. "It feels like chaos follows us wherever we go, but the cynic is me thinks the whole world is just getting crazier by the day. At least... I feel like things are getting worse. Like time is catching up with us, and it won't be long before we can't escape it."

Letting out a long sigh, Torva gazed to the sky. "At least we haven't burned anything to the ground yet...."

A second gong rang and the scores on the board jumped into the air, swimming like a sea of fish through the air and around the stadium before splashing back onto the wood, the names rearranged to show the current placing. "5th place! Not bad!" Torva said, spying Cadogan's name on the board. "He might actually be able to win this." he added optimistically.

For the second round, a number of devices were brought onto the arena floor. "In the second round, our brilliant inventors will be tasked with constructing a piece or pieces of armor capable of withstanding this barrage of tests. First, it will be exposed to intense heat," the announcer relayed as one of the devices briefly spit intense flame, "Next, it will be tested for durability" and, much like the first time, another device with a spear mounted to it rapidly stabbed the air. It continued like this for a short while. Heat. Pressure. Weight. Piercing and slashing damage. Torva would be surprised if any of the armors made it through the full barrage of tests, but he was excited to see anyway.

"As a reminder, inventors must have an assistant willing to brave these tests. Those without an assistant or those unsure of the quality of their designs are allowed to drop out at any point, including during the evaluations. So think long and hard about how confident you are in your designs."

"But don't think too hard!" the announcer said as the flames at each station turned white hot, "because the second round has already begun!"

All Torva could think of, looking back and forth between the barrage of machines and Cadogan's workbench, was "poor chii...."

"Well, I could go out there and simply turn my body into shadow and save Chii a lot of pain." Itzal replied to Torva as he settled down beside the couple. His business with Justica concluded, he had come to the games with his daughter. She had won three years in a row and being as young as she was, had established quite a name for herself. It also meant there was some pressure for her to not compete so the older blacksmiths would not be offended for the fourth year in a row. Itzal had laughed when she made a comment about adults being the most childish, but he could hardly blame her. Men's prides were fragile at best. "But I think Cadogan's work will be more than up to the test."

Ruby had settled down beside him and was focusing entirely on the competitors. The crowd was cheering loudly and making it difficult to distinguish anything anyone was saying, but he could have sworn she was making comments about what the other seraphim armourers were doing wrong, or what she could have done better. He chuckled and gave Torva a look. "I've talked with Councilor Justica and told her Shade is dead, with Halden's head as proof. I asked for her voice in support of our cause as payment, but I won't uncross my fingers yet. Without a body to confirm, she might not be willing to buy my tale fully. Everything else, however, can wait until the games are over. Enjoy the rest of your day."

The rest of the games were interesting enough - Itzal knew enough about enchanting items, but to do so during the creation process was an art he never had time to fully master. Not that he needed to, in truth. His own weapons fit him just well enough. It was a pleasant change, though, sitting here with his daughter, not having to look over his shoulder and simply enjoying a festive event like this with no care or worry in the world. Itzal cracked a smile at that, something he thought he had forgotten how to do. If Torva and Hagumi were paying him any mind, they might have found that sight scarier than anything he had done before.

Cadogan was ever so mildly disappointed about the current results - though 5th place wasn't bad there was still a long way to the top. He shook his head very slightly and adjusted the rose shaped hairpin while making calculations. He knew that one little miscalculation could lead to a heap of trouble - and pain for Chii for that matter, which was something the Great Inventor really would not enjoy happening. His grey eyes examined the crowd for a while as thoughts filled his head - thoughts of possible failure were swiftly pushed aside by the confident reminder that he had not been given the title of Great Inventor of Dumont for nothing. It was not just some foolish self given title to boost his ego for misguided sense of fulfillment and to compensate for his lack of other qualities. NO! He had fully earned that title by working hard and always coming up with new ideas and constantly improving old designs. He'd show to these damn Seraphim what human ingenuity and craftsmanship really was all about. What those two things could accomplish when paired with theoretical knowledge about magic and downright unnerving amount of determination to show the world that a human can be more than just a mere peddler of cheap weapons, maker of less than average quality armor and sub par farming equipment.

Seemingly casually the white haired man took a large gulp of wine, he did not mind the droplets leaking down his chin and staining his shirt with it's crimson color. He'd have ample time to make the leg guards for Chii and... what else? Cadogan shrugged his shoulders as he began working. He'd just make the damn leg guards and come up with the rest later. As he worked the Great Inventor glanced at his coat, then at Chii and again back to his coat. A plan began forming in his head and a little smirk replaced the usual half smile of his. "I may not be a genius, but I just got an idea..." The wine had by now slightly numbed his tongue so the words came out slightly slurred. Cadogan shook his head slightly and picked up his coat. Admittedly he wasn't much of a tailor, but he was confident about his ability to make the minor adjustments. Fixing a few seems to make the coat a bit more fitting for Chii and adding some metal for extra durability would be the easiest part. Carving the runes which would give the actual protection would be the hardest part. Cadogan shook his head, spat on the ground and began making the modifications and additions to the coat. "I refuse to lose this one..."

Lazarus played well among the captain's plan, he went to the tunnel and got trapped there. He listened the man's lecturing without a blink, figuratively speaking. He glances around the group of guards around him in the tunnel before slowly turning his eyes at the captain."So, you are done now." He confirmed and nodded his head once, waving his wrist around lazily to sway the head around."I do not need to appreciate your efforts, captain, you know that. Now, I shall begin to explain my actions, and see if you decide to hear them or not." He states, his tone calm throughout the entire time, so calm that it was practically annoying."First, as you said, in anywhere else, I could have caused a riot. However, good captain, these here are seraphim. They are people that are clearly either too intelligent, or too cowardice to start rioting over something that small. A bit of blood reminds their magic filled heads about the world outside, do you not agree?" His gleaming eyes are locked to the captain's, yet his face is still not visible from within the helmet."Next thing, yes, the criminal I executed, was dangerous. Maybe not extremely dangerous, unless you wish me to see your men inadequate to keep peace in your city. Your cells would not have been enough to hold him for too long, he probably would not have escaped the city with his life, but he would've taken few of your people with him. Not to mention that some of his merry bandits are still out there free, and probably willing to do something to save or avenge him, that threat is now on me, they have no reason to go after your people for their leader." Lazarus was slightly disappointed at this point, not just because the seraphim thought that they could hold him in place with such little effort, but mainly because none of the guards had lost their temper..yet."What was next, ah, yeah, why in here, and why in the middle of the games. Simple. These people, let them be seraphim or not, are not perfect. At any point could any single one of them just decide he or she has had enough for one reason or another. And thus you'd have yet another outlaw to put a bounty on, which would mean more work for me of course. The fear, captain, the fear keeps some of them in bay. Especially after they saw someone simply ignoring the guards around the games, that by the way did nothing to stop an armed man from leaping in the arena in the middle of, well, in lack of better terms civilians with above average intelligence. And now, my good captain, is the time to decide whether you simply let me walk out of here, or try to take me in for few nights before letting me get back to my work, so yours is easier." He finishes his speech, but before the captain has a chance to reply, he still adds something."And one more thing, my good captain. Unless you plan to use that sword of yours, never draw it and point it at someone. In case of a nutcase, it could cost you, your life." He then quiets down, apparently finally done and simply waiting.

Planting his forehead unceremoniously into a man's nose, Garran knocked the figher unconscious before casting him away like trash. His body was covered in a myriad of bruises, grazes, cuts, blood and alcohol, but he didn't particularly seem to mind as he picked another patron up and threw him through the brick wall. It had been a while since he was in a scrap like this. An honest, true to measure bar brawl, where man tested each other based on the strength of arm and hardness of muscle, rather than the quality of one's blade or magic. He was utterly at home amidst the chaos. Feeling a figure bump into his back, Garran whirled around, fist at the ready, but immediately let down his guard as he saw who it was, even as a plate cracked against his shoulder. "Well then, lass," Garran said as he planted his hands on his hips, a tankard whizzing past his head, spilling ale over his arm, "I d'nno wht t' do 'n a date...kinda a f'rst fer me." Rubbing the back of his head nervously, the pirate shrugged. "Well, th' city be new an' excitin'," he said, "th' doves ain't git no seaport h're so I've n'ver been round here. Shall we 'xplore?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Meanwhile, in Sassacus...
"As you requested, milord," a figure shrouded in red said, his knee bowed as his silvery white hair contrasted with his cloak, "the blood of a powerful warrior." His crimson gloved hand was placed over his heart in a show of fealty as a small scarlet vial floated in the air above his other hand. Moments of silence passed before there was a deep rumbling. Ancient braziers lit up, but they did not burn orange like any regular flame. They burned a deep, disturbing maroon. "Well done...Valiance..." said a melodious voice from seemingly everywhere around the kneeling figure. As the final braziers lit up, they revealed a raised, basalt dais, upon which stood a throne of alternating black basalt, white marble and a strange red mineral that alternately grew and shrunk, like an obscene, crystalline heart. As the room flooded with light, it revealed that the room was permeated with a red mist that pulsed towards and away from the throne in the center. All of a sudden, the mist seemed to gain animation, being sucked towards a point on front of the throne. Valiance felt a malevolent breeze bring his hair to the front of his body as he knelled impassively, his breath instinctively baited. He smiled inwardly. No matter, he thought, we are of the same blood anyway.

As the sanguine mist pooled into a single hurricane in front of the throne, it started to take on a humanoid shape, before sprouting a pair of large features on its back. Little by little, it grew more distinct, facial features and fabric gaining colour, bodily proportions taking solid shape and wings forming behind the figure in a magnificent display as they spread outwards, the blood red crystalline feathers reaching towards the ceiling. Chuckling, the new figure rested his cheek on his knuckles as he sat upon the throne, placing his ankle over the other leg. His white hair was tinted crimson by the flames and his eyes glowed a baleful ruby red. His body was half covered by a toga of brilliant carmine fabric, held up by a single golden brooch...and yet the fabric seemed...oddly organic. "As expected of my herald," he finally said, his voice reminiscent of an ominous chorus, "you always do as I expect." Slowly rising to his feet, the newly formed seraphim approached the kneeling Valiance. "But that is to be expected from someone crafted from my own flesh, is it not?" he asked as he closed distance. Valiance remained quiet, his face hidden beneath his wide brimmed hat as the single white feather swayed eerily in the windless throne room.

"Stand, my herald, and present me with the item," he said, standing in front of Valiance, towering head and shoulders above him. "Yes, milord," the hearld replied, slowly rising from his knee, the vial still floating above his palm. Staring at the vial, Valiance took a deep breath and, with a single thought, started to shift the shape of the vial. The neck widened while the base grew narrower and longer. Streams of blood came from within the crimson gloved hand under it and added to the mass, forming a thin base. A few seconds later, the vial had transformed into a chalice, a viscour red fluid sloshing within as the hemomancer extended his arm. Smiling like a father looking at his son, the robed Seraphim took the chalice and placed it to his lips, sniffing the contents. "A low quality mongrel...but brimming with potential..." he commented, looking back at Valiance, "tell me, where did you find this specimen?"
"Eastern Wastes, near Dumont," Valiance replied, never once meeting his lord's eyes, "a young guardsman on duty." Silence reigned. Then, suddenly, the shattering sound of glass could be heard. His eyes flicking up, Valiance was just in time to see his lord's arm reach out and grab him by the throat. Coughing and spluttering as he was lifted off his feet, Valiance grasped at his lord's hand as his hat fell from his shoulders. A homonculus he may have been, but with his lord's handiwork, he was the equal of any mortal, and that meant he needed air. "You take me for a fool, Valiance?" the angered lord asked. "No...Lord *ack* Lord Aelthanion!" he managed to choke through as he tried to pry the hand away from his throat, at any cost to get his breath back. Closing his eyes, Valiance started to dissipate, melting away like wax above an open flame. He slithered through Aelthanion's hands and pooled on the ground below as a small red ball followed. Almost immediately, the liquid reformed around the ball once more taking on the shape of Valiance, who gasped for breath as he struggled to stay conscious. "To lead our kind to be the apex of this world's species requires more blood, better blood than some simple guardsman!" Aelthanion shouted, kicking Valiance onto his side, "I cannot lead my warriors to battle on such filth!"
"Milord, *cough* Seraphim no longer battle as *ack* as you did back then, they are frailer!" Valiance reasoned as he returned to his feet, unharmed apart from the blueness of his lips, "you will lead them to ruin!" The air seemed to heat up in the throne room. "Do you question my PROWESS!?" Aelthanion roared. Clenching his hand into a fist, the self proclained 'God of War' watched as Valiance writhed, even letting out a scream unintentionally as something was ripped from within his chest, leaving a sucking wound. A small red ball was drawn forth from his chest even as the wound immediately healed up. Gasping in pain as he watched Aelthanion grasp the ball in his hand, tighening his grip. His entire body screamed in pain as the ball was compressed. "Let me remind you who you are, herald," Aelthanion hissed, tightening his grip to emphasise his point, "you are my puppet, my minion, and you will not question me, understood?" Once more, he crushed the ball. Without any recourse, Valiance nodded hurriedly. Scoffing at the form on the ground, Aelthanion started to walk away. "Leave my presence...and do not come back until you have gathered something worthy..."

Slowly, Valiance crawled towards the red orb on the ground,e ventually managing to grasp it and press it back onto his chest, where it seemed to sink into his skin. As soon as it integrated with him once more, Valiance breathed more easily, gasping for air as he twitched in pain. It was thrue though. With his methods, Aelthanion would lead the Seraphim to extinction, and that was if he could rally them in the first place. The Odesseans would most likely succumb to their bloodlust, but he had doubts about the others, though they would eventually fall to his aura. As his breathing returned to normal, Valiance staggered to his feet and stumbed out of the throne room, which sealed shut behind him. Before he was that madman's puppet, he was a seraphim...and he would do what he could to prevent the rise to power. The beauty of being a homonculus was that he had autonomy and sentience. He wasnot bound to serve Aelthanion like his other puppets were, but was another being entirely, with his own willpower...but even so, Aelthanion still had ultimate control over him, even if he did not have access to his mind. Stumbling in the direction of his quarters, the hemomancer struggled to think. Who could he ask the advice of? There was only one answer he could think of. A certain rune mage with atrophied wings.

“That’s not funny, Torva,” Hagumi muttered softly as he spoke of them not burning the city to the ground, yet. “That’s not funny at all,” she added after a brief pause, lifting her head slowly until her ice blue eyes stared deeply into Torva’s eyes, holding his stare for several long moments before Hagumi looked away and returned her attention to the arena below. “I would do almost anything to prevent that,” Hagumi whispered, allowing one arm to slide around Torva’s waist for a few seconds, during which she hugged him tightly. “I love my home with all of my heart… Just like I love you, Torva…”

Happily it seemed that things were returning quickly to normal. The now very dead criminal’s remains were speedily whisked away, hopefully to be tossed out or disposed of outside the city. As for the man who had killed him, good reason(s) or not, he had left a sour impression upon Hagumi, and if they were to meet again, and spend any time in each others company, he would have to work hard to turn his image from what it was. But then again, he probably wasn’t the type who cared. Pushing the thoughts of the unsavory bounty hunter from her mind, Hagumi gently hugged Torva’s waist again.

“Do you think Cadogan will win...? He is The Great Inventor after all.. but still…” Hagumi’s focus rested on the forms of Cadogan and Chii far below in the arena. It seemed for Chii’s part the little dragoness had hardly stirred as the gruesome execution had taken place. It wasn’t a surprise, Hagumi mused silently, given what she did know of Chii’s past. Chii had even picked up the slain man’s head and handed it calmly to a nearby guard before returning to Cadogan’s side, where she now stood silent watching The Great Inventor work, At one point Chii had leaned toward The Great Inventor, while she had looked excitedly down at the armour he was crafting.

“Do you need some more wine?” is what Chii had whispered into Cadogan’s ear as she watched him work, amazed by how skillfully The Great Inventor crafted the armour. Chii knew nothing of such things, well little to nothing. That aside it went without saying that Chii had confidence in The Great Inventor, else she wouldn’t have volunteered to assist him. Meanwhile, back in the stands, Hagumi looked at Torva and squeezed his hand gently. “Would you get me something to drink.. Yourself too,” Hagumi asked sweetly as she placed several gold coins in Torva’s palm. “Something sweet for me, okay…? And get yourself whatever you want… it’s my treat. Just don't get to drunk,”

Fiora chuckled and put her arm around Garran's. "Exploring it is... if we don't get interrupted by the guards or another brawl it is. Lead on then, kind sir." She replied with a genuine smile of happiness. When was the last time she felt so at ease? Life in Dumont hadn't been entirely miserable, especially not when she had the company of the other street rats like her who formed a surrogate family of sorts.

With Garran, the peace she felt was different. Despite his knack of getting into fights, she felt she could let down her guard around him. Perhaps it was simply because her reputation as a thief was restricted to Dumont, and after finally leaving the city, she no longer had to walk around in disguise or keep looking over her shoulder to ensure she wasn't being tailed by guards any more. She didn't have to worry about starving or finding shelter or an empty bath and clean clothes, for that matter.

"It's my first time on a date too, being a street rat who makes a living off thieving doesn't leave much room for romance." She confessed, giggling. "But it means I'm quite expensive to keep, so you might need to stop spending so much on your drink." She was teasing like she usually did, but there was just something different about it today. Even Fiora was hard pressed to put her finger on it, and for a silver-tongued thief that was saying something indeed.

"Lass...ye really th'nk any o' the ponces 'tside of th's bar w'll fight me?" Garran asked as he started leading Fiora out of the bar,"buncha doves, nothin' more." With that, as a man hit the wall hard right next to him, Garran stole the bottle clutched in his hand and took a final swig before stepping over the unconscious body of a bar patron which had smashed the door open. "ONWARDS! T' ADVENT'RE!" he shouted as he smashed the bottle over the rising man's head. Starting off in a random direction, Garran started humming an old seas shanty as he pulled Fiora closer, completely towering over her, but somehow seeming to be more at peace than ever. His grip was firm, but gentle, and yet bore a strange awkwardness as he pressed his roughly gloved hand into her shoulder. Thankfully, the ale he had ingested earlier, along with the adrenaline pumping through his veins from the barfight, helped him to ignore any apprehension he had, and instead managed to mostly walk down the streets with Fiora at a cheerful pace.

"Eh? Whas' goin' on ov'r he'e?" Garran asked as he heard a roaring sound. Turning to face the direction that it was coming from, the pirate cocked his head as he saw an arena, crowds streaming out and muttering animatedly. Occasionally a gout of flame flew out and scorched the clouds, piquing Garran's interests. "D' doves do gladiator'al combat?' Garran asked.

"We'll see about the wine after I get this done." Cadogan stated politely without even taking his eyes off from his work. He made some final adjustments to the now quite well reinforced coat while making calculations about it possibly hampering movement. When he had made sure all the needed runes were in place he handed the coat to Chii. "Try this on while I finish the leg guards, ok?" The white haired man flashed a little smile at the tiny dragoness and again turned to focus on his work.

As he worked on the leg guards the Great Inventor had to actually admire his own handiwork. The nearly complete leg guards seemed at first glance quite heavy - and indeed would be if it were not for the protective and weight reducing runes he had carved on them. The pattern of runes encircled a rather stylized rose emblem on the left guard and a dragon on the right one - the emblems and runes had been the more difficult part to make in Cadogan's opinion - after all anyone can just plop out a pair of leg guards like it's nothing. The little details on them show a truly skilled craftsman.

Cadogan let out a sigh of relief - in the case the leg guards or the coat would need some adjustment there would be just enough time for that, not that he doubted himself, on the contrary. Still, he had more or less trusted on his eyes while making the items so there was a slight chance that he had made a miscalculation or that there wouldn't be enough time for making adjustments or... The white haired man shook his head and finished his second bottle of wine within three hours.

Torva waved to Itzal and Ruby as they wedged themselves through the row and made space for themselves on the benches near he and Hagumi. He still hadn't adjusted to Shade's new look, and although there was familiarity in the scent he was still a different person, not just in body, but in spirit. To imagine a day when he would see Shade... Itzal... sitting with his daughter enjoying the day's festivities would have been impossible even a few days ago. In any other town Shade would likely be skulking about the shadier parts of town, gathering information and brandishing his own personal form of justice against anyone that stood in his way. Perhaps, in that sense, his new name was quite fitting. “Out of the shadows and into the light...” Torva quietly mused to himself. It would be a loss for their intel gathering abilities, for sure, but in a way he was glad Shade was able to find closure. In their race to find a cure, with no end in sight, finish lines and little victories needed to be celebrated where they could be found.

“So your daughter won three years in a row, at her age? That's amazing. I would have loved to see the faces of some of the competitors below in past years at that sight” Torva proclaimed, laughing.

Turning his attention back towards Hagumi, he quickly apologized for his comments, and changed the topic to the competition at hand. “I don't know,” he responded, “humans in my experience tend to have better metalwork and more complex designs, but there's just some things magic can do that steel can't, and Cadogan is no mage.” In truth, he was more concerned with the inventor's constitution than his place in the competition. Fifth place was impressive for a newcomer, let alone a human, but Cadogan continued to drink wine, dutifully delivered by Chii's tiny hands, as if celebrating his victory. He could almost smell the faint hints of wine from the stands, and looking down at the odd assortment of devices as they spewed fire and pierced through enchanted metal, Torva couldn't help but doubt Cagodan's skill. “I hope Chii knows what she's getting into.” he said, concern in his voice.

It was almost their turn to approach the judges, but Torva figured he had just enough time to get Hagumi a drink before then. Closing his hand around the coins, he kissed Hagumi on the cheek before reaching the staircase in a single leap rather than fight his way through the stands. Along the outskirt of the arena stands, hundreds of vendors shouted and jostled for attention as they pitched their wares. Food, drink, souvenir carvings, even charms... it seemed like you could buy almost anything with enough coin. From his perspective all the stands looked the same, having neither the knowledge nor the experience to tell one vendor selling alcohol from another. Finally, his eyes settled on one with a wooden carving of a dragon along the top.

Approaching the stand, Torva asked the vendor was sort of drinks he offered. “We sell all manner of wines,” the seraphim responded, waving his arm over a rack of bottles behind him, “but today only we're offering a special drink in honor of the competition. We call it the queen's bounty” he said, proudly revealing a bottle from behind the counter. The large bottle was filled with a deep purple liquid, the cork stained from exposure to it. What stood out, though, was the detailed illustration of a female dragon sitting on a throne, crown hanging from a foot, as she downed an entire bottle of wine. It looked nothing like Neon, and yet Torva recognized her immediately in the drawing. It seemed some eager young artist was attempting to guess her likeness based on stories alone, and it was the funniest thing he had seen in a long time. Big, fearsome looking claws and fangs... A barbed tail black as knight curled around the throne as manslaves tended to her needs. Even the throne was decorated with skulls as if the daeva monarchy had just crawled out of some cave.

Unfortunately the entire bottle cost quite a bit more than the coin he had on him, but striking up a deal with the seraphim, Torva was able to secure one of the labels from a bottle along with a goblet of the liquid and a goblet of mead for Hagumi. Returning triumphantly to the stands, Torva couldn't wait to show off his find to the group, and proudly held the label out like a banner to Hagumi, Itzal, and Ruby, barely holding back a laugh as he snickered “I present to you... my queen.”

Down in the arena, a seraphim approached Cadogan's table, visibly taken aback by how drunk the great inventor seemed to be. He couldn't imagine who would be crazy enough to volunteer under the risk of great personal injury to showcase any armor made by someone who was having trouble speaking clearly. Shrugging, he let the inventor know that it was his turn to test whatever armor he had prepared before the judges. Gesturing towards the row of tables at the far end of the Colosseum, the seraphim eyed up Chii warily and offered her a conciliatory “good luck” as he tried to wave the strong smell of alcohol out from in front of his nose.

---

Below in the tunnels, the guard captain found himself continually astonished as his captor's brazen attitude, even under the threat of prosecution. In fact, it almost seemed as if he was confident in his ability to fight his way out if necessary. Looking around at the suite of guards and mages surrounding the bounty hunter, along with the fact that he was still actively bound by magic, he came to the conclusion that the man before him was either significantly more powerful than he was letting on... or completely out of his mind.

Listening carefully to Lazarus' explanation, the captain never once let his hand drift from the handle of his weapon, and he continually eyed up his men to make sure none of them were letting their guards down. Ghostlike trails of seraphim drifted through the tunnel, one passing right through Lazarus as he spoke, as volunteers working the event entering and leaving the crafting floor went about their business, unaware of the pocket of space they passed through. His breathing grew heavier as the bounty hunter spoke and his face reddened, but it was not until Lazarus spoke of fear as the driving force for his actions that he could no longer keep his cool. “Fear? Fear is what led to the wholesale massacre of daeva before the races found peace. Fear is what drives men to create larger and larger weapons of war. You speak of fear like it's a deterrent, but fear only drives cornered animals to strike!”

Drawing his weapon closer, the captain allowed the tip of his blade to knick Lazarus' cheek ever so slightly, drawing the faintest bead of blood. Upon seeing the glistening orb he seemed to come to his senses, lowing his weapon and calling his men to stand down. He held out a hankerchief towards the swordman, looking away in disgust. “Take your money, clean yourself up, and conclude your business here so you can leave my city as quickly as possible.”

"The face they're making at Cadogan's drunkenness comes pretty close." Itzal replied with a laugh at Torva's comment. Even from the crowd of spectators he could spot people frowning at a drunk - a human drunk, getting fifth place in an art they prided themselves on. "To be bested by a drunkard human inventor this year and a young girl three years previous, I do believe half of them will lose the will to compete next year and the other half will find a new trade altogether." Itzal laughed at the thought, enjoying being able to joke and be merry for once in a long time.

Though, to be honest, Chii was in a fair bit of danger here. They had yet to see how well this Inventor really worked his craft, so watching him do so with that many bottles. "Chii needs to consider how many bottles of wine her life is worth." Itzal sighed as he, like Torva, noticed the little dragon daeva pass along another bottle once Cadogan had drained one. "You could start a brewery from that man's blood."

As if on cue, Torva left to get them drinks and returned shortly later with one that was supposed to be 'inspired' by Neon. The assassin just bent over with laughter, hands holding his stomach for fear it would rip open with sheer force of his mirth. "Don't let Neon see that or she'll tear down the city." Itzal managed to say between gasps. "Or she might find the owner and demand her manslaves be turned into a legion of virgins at her beck and call. Or both."

---

Fiora noticed the crowd and cheers as well. She didn't think the seraphim would enjoy bloodsport, but then again, hypocrisy wasn't an alien concept to her. "Itzal mentioned something about some Inventor competition today." She replied, remembering what could gather such a crowd. "Loads of magical weaponry and armour in one place? Sounds like fun." She added with a laugh.

Knowing the group, if enough of them were gathered there watching the game, something catastrophic was bound to happen. She voiced her thought. "Though if they're all there watching and we go, I'd be surprised if something doesn't end up exploding and we all get blamed for it." It was a joke, but Fiora looked up at Garran and smiled. "Like every other day when it concerns us, I guess. Shall we go watch?"

Lazarus smirked in his helmet and barely flinched when his cheek was cut, he accepts his money and walks past the Guard Captain then, heading down towards the nearest tavern, giving him one final whisper "The Fear, Captain. That's what keeps your city peaceful." he soon disappears from their sight as the captain takes a look at his blade, the single drop of blood slides down the blade slowly, and leaves cold vapor behind along the metal blade, before eventually halting it's advance, as if frozen in place.

After that little incident, the bounty hunter is soon enjoying his ale in the tavern, all alone in nice little corner where no one should disturb him, if he's lucky. Although he would not bet on his luck more today, he probably exhausted today's luck pool already more than few times, either way he shrugs and laughs it off, as he is once again a small fortune more rich, and can happily order drinks to every customer one time, just in case one of these seraphim would be here to calm their nerves now.

A figure clad in black robes entered the tavern, slinking through the crowd unnoticed, as if a spectre. Even when he grabbed a patron's drink off the table as he passed, nobody so much as blinked, as if his very presence was intangible to those around him. The figure quickly found his way to Lazarus' table, taking a seat opposite the mercenary. A faint trickle of blood traced down a small stone held in the figure's hands, dripping on the floor, the color matching his dark red eyes. It was only after the figure dropped the stone into his pocket, his eyes shifting from red to black, that he seemed to appear before Lazarus, almost as if it were totally natural.

“I was very impressed with your work today,” the figure said, tracing the rim of his stolen drink with a gold coin. “Not many men are capable of performing a task with such... precision. I appreciate professionalism in my line of work.”

The man extended a hand towards Lazarus, his skin covered in deep scars, and introduced himself. “My name is Vlad, and I have need of your services. Immediately if possible. Name your price; I can assure you it is within my means. As you can imagine, discretion is paramount as well. Simply do your job and report back for your reward.”

Placing the gold coin down on the table, he gestured towards a barmaid, ordered the most expensive drink the bar offered, and continued to detail his request. “I need a man killed before morning. He won't be easy to get to, but he should be fairly easy for a man of your talents to eliminate if you can get close. He goes by the name Vates. You might recognize him as a member of the council of the righteous.”

As he spoke, vlad reached into his cloak to recover a satchel, dropping it on the table with a solid thud. The catch loosened, revealing over a hundred gold pieces, enough to buy a small home in even the capital of Adalrich. “This is for your time, and as a sign of goodwill. Consider it... a token of appreciation. If you choose to accept my request, return here tomorrow at the same time with your price and I can guarantee your safe escape from the city and your heart's desires.”

“Think it over,” Vlad said, standing up from the table. He retrieved a different stone from his pocket, as well as a small knife. Cutting the tip of his finger, he allowed a single bead to form before smearing it on the stone. He mumbled to himself in a strange language before vanishing, leaving no trace save for a single drop of blood on the floor.

The air tasted like an excited crowd, perhaps even too excited. Blood, sweat, alcohol and many other smells blanketed the inventor's showing. Mokk twitched a little, he hadn't eaten in days but it didn't bother him very much. The pesky guards had disarmed him but he had to agree with their sense of reason. Leaving a daeva with his axe in the middle of a seraphim capitol was not a wise move with war on the brink. Best not to aggravate them. The last thing he wanted to see was the end of his people. Mokk may be a bloodthirsty killer but to kill his own was beneath him and if he didn't get his message out then he may as well be doing that.

Mokk fingered through the pocket in the inside of the musky traveling cloak to make sure his package hadn't disappeared. Touching the thin envelope, he relaxed a little. Such a tiny and fragile thing that weighed so heavy in his pocket.

The reaction that Mokk had faced at the gate was interesting. He apparently wasn't the only daeva here and that meant he was where he wanted to be. Where could she be, he pondered. The capital smelled too elegant, too fancy. It was repulsive to be in a place with so many people shoving their heads so far up their caboose with their repulsive magic and highborn crap. The sneering looks from citizens only solidified his opinion. They were mixed with disdain and fear.
The croc paused to ask a more down-to-earth looking fellow, "Do you know of a group of daevan ambassadors in the city?"

The seraphim paused a moment before fully answering, "Hmm..? Uh, oh yes! I do believe I saw a few around town. They're pretty hard to miss."

"What did they look like?" Mokk continued. If he could get a clear identification he wouldn't have to waste time looking.

"Huh.. well I only saw a couple of them, see? There was one small and scaly lady heading toward the coliseum and I saw a wolfish looking lad. I would say he was a little smaller than you! Pretty furry couldn't miss em'!", the man paused again in deep recollection, "Uh I think that's all I got, sorry. I hope I was helpful."

Dralina Blazion, queen of the daeva, was not particularly small so the description made him skeptical. "That's alright. Thank you." The gratitude rolled out as awkward as if he had never thanked anyone before. He wasn't after a lizard woman or a wolf. Mokk needed his Highness. Perhaps more accurately, his highness needed him. Mokk moved forward. There could be no doubt that those seeking the feral cure were here in Adalrich vying for the seraphim's attention.

A scent emblazoned his nostrils. It was like that of dull charcoal slathered on leather. The scent was so familiar to him he knew it had to belong to a dragon. The Queen was close. Mokk lowered himself to take in more of the scent so that he may stalk it. Seraphim onlookers gawked at him as if he were a stray dog about to bite. He sped forward, pursuing the smell through an alley into an opposing street and saw her. At times like this it was damn good to be able to smell. Mokk had to pity the other races, they were missing out. Dralina Blazion was in transit to the Council of the Righteous.

"My Queen!" Mokk bellowed in his low tone. A phrase that would certainly catch her attention in this foreign land. "I have important news." He explained as he caught up. From his cloak pocket he withdrew the envelope with a broken seal on it.

Hagumi looked to Torva as he returned with their drinks and smiled her thanks. Raising a hand to her mouth, Hagumi had herself a good laugh as Torva showed off his find. "I wouldn't mind seeing Neon's reaction, though," she murmured, gathering her composure enough to take a long sip of her mead, blinking once as she swallowed. "Maybe a sweet wine next time would be better," Hagumi whispered into Torva's ear as she slid a little closer to him again, one arm moving to wrap around Torva's waist. Having said a quick 'hello' to Itzal and Ruby, Hagumi lasped into silence as Torva and the others talked, her focus mainly being on the arena below and upon Chii and Cadogan specifically. "I'm sure they will be fine," Hagumi said suddenly with a firm nod of her head; then took another longer drink, still clearly a bit of a lightweight when it came to alcohol. Leaning a bit more heavily against Torva, Hagumi took a third swallow of her mead, finishing her goblet and sighing happily. "Maybe mead isn't so bad after all. Still, Chii woried,a tiny bit, she couldn't help it.

Below in the arena, Chii leveled a steady gaze at Cadogan as he finished his work. "I trust you," the little dragoness said in a soft, calm voice as she lay her hands on The Great Inventor's shoulders and turned him briefly to face her. "Even drunk, I will trust you, and if something happens... well... I have lived much longer then I was meant to... But I think I'll be fine." Letting go of the white haired man's shoulders, Chii moved to stand beside Cadogan and allow the man to fuss over whatever details he wanted shortly before a seraphim judge approached. Glancing Cadogan's way, Chii quickly looked back toward their judge, keeping herself perfectly still as the man did his appointed task(s). Chii did wonder where Torva and the others were in the crowd, they were there, she was sure of it. Maybe Neon was there as well... maybe. Chii allowed her mind to wander for a few moments, pondering where Neon might be if she weren't at the games. What was she doing? Was Neon okay? Most likely she was, Chii could hardly recall her queen ever being hurt that badly, and they were in the seraphim capitol after all.

Cadogan smiled, it was not a mocking smile, nor was it a smile filled with overpowering self confidence. It was a very sincere smile. She trusts me. She actually sounds so sincere. Usually people wouldn't trust a drunkard making final adjustments to their armor... The Great Inventor nodded his head and very gently tapped Chii on the forehead with his index finger. "Everything will go just fine." He whispered and winked at the tiny dragoness before straightening up properly.

Despite the smell of alcohol that hovered around the white haired man his eyes were clear, his hands did not shake even a little bit and his mind was obviously still very sharp. You should have seen me when I fixed the Providence, that time I was drinking brandy and the damn thing worked even better than I had expected. Cadogan thought to himself as he began explaining all the runes and their workings to the judges. If someone was paying attention to his mannerisms and speech it would be obvious that he was exaggerating his drunkenness a bit.

Kayla sighed as she stepped out of her meeting with the two Councillors. She hated politics and all that came with it - why was it so difficult for people to simply do good and right by their fellow man? Well, she could answer that herself - they had a very narrow-minded view of what "fellow man" included. At the very least, it seemed the Councillors were deep in thought and willing to reconsider their stance on the situation.

Neither man had been able to argue against her logic, but she knew better than to trust rationality to win over politicians. Though Vates was a stubborn man, he seemed to take her words seriously, at least. Hopefully by tomorrow he was willing to take a stand against the war, if not abstain from the vote. There was little love for the daeva in the human and seraphim kingdoms, but at least the seraphim considered themselves a little more refined in their treatment of "lesser races".

There was little else to be done, since there was little chance she'd be able to petition the other Councillors on such short notice. Besides, they probably knew she had already been invited to speak to two of the Council already and any attempt to speak to the rest so soon might make her seem desperate. They all knew she had good reason to be in such a rush, but the ones who cared and would entertain her were the ones who were against the war in the first place.

She was barely out the door when she saw a familiar face headed in her direction. "Neon!" Kayla cried out, waving cheerfully at the dragonness. "Perfect time. I just spoke to Macto and Munus, hopefully they'll both reconsider their stance on supporting the humans... I could accompany you if you're speaking to the rest of the Council. My presence should help your case at least a little."

Lazarus had just sat down comfortably and enjoyed his ale, when someone approached him: It wasn't that special really, so he lowered his other hand on a hilt of a sword. But this figure , Vlad, wasn't out for a fight it seemed, instead he offered him work. He listened through his offer while taking a sip of his drink every now and then, and quietly waited for the person to leave and disappear before lifting his head and shaking it, glancing over at the bag and getting up, he takes the 'token of appreciation' as it was called and lobs it over at the tavern keeper, telling him to offer free drinks to people as long as that bag runs out. He then leaves the tavern quickly and looks around, where did that figure go?."Hmph." He frowns slightly and heads away from the building, it could be a trap for all he cared, and even if it was not, Lazarus was a bounty hunter, not a mercenary nor an assassin. This person, whoever he was in the end, clearly could not tell the difference, but since he offered that kind of a deal, there was a fair chance that his head too would be found from a bulletin board sooner or later. Or then he could go after him by making his suggestion a personal offence towards his good...dec...name.

Lazarus now had two choices. Either he disappeared from the city without another sound, or then returned to the tavern the next day and comfort this Vlad person.. He would probably run into a conflict with him, which could lead to property damage and possibly bystander casualties. Or then, the whole thing would be a set up by the watch to see if they can take him in for accepting assassination contracts. On the other hand, Lazarus was confident that he could get away from the possible ambush, but then, Vlad did not seem just a normal person, and having him to deal with along with these watch members could prove to be difficult. At least, alone.

One by one people left Shade's home, even the injured pegasus, until it was just Neon alone with the servants. As she waited she gathered notes on what she planned to saying to the council, trying to figure out what the best plan of attack was. Her head was like a busy street corner, the constant banter of voices drowning each other out until it was almost white noise. Perhaps this was how her father kept his sanity, Neon thought as she filtered out the indecipherable babble from her own thoughts. Then again... she never did consider her father a sane man.

Pushing the thought of her father out of her mind, Neon rolled up a parchment, sealing it with her family's crest, and stepped outside. If she wasted any more time thinking she might not even get the chance to speak with the council, and with the inventor's games taking up most of the city's attention, now was never a better time to gain an audience. She chose to walk this time, waving off a carriage that was loitering around the neighborhood looking for customers. The cold air was sharp, but not biting, and each breath of fresh air helped calm her nerves. By now word had spread of their arrival, and far fewer seraphim stopped to stare as she navigated her way towards the Council of the Righteous.

If it were not for Mokk's deep gravely voice Neon would almost have certainly walked right past the daeva. Startled slightly, she turned towards the daeva while instinctively taking a small step back. At first she did not recognize the daeva, but upon making eye contact she was immediately taken back to Malum's castle. This was the one who Torva fought, although she couldn't remember why. Was he defending Malum? Or just looking for trouble? His presence in Adalrich unnerved her, as if ill winds had begun to blow trouble to their doorstep. Cautiously, she took the sealed missive from Mokk's scaly hand, although the daeva showed no outward sign of aggression. On the contrary, it had all the appearances of loyalty....

Neon sliced open the missive, a claw digging underneath the wax seal of some noble she didn't recognize. It seemed like some sort of status message, most of the content going well over Neon's head. She began to lose interest as she read, openly wondering if Mokk had confused her with a queen who actually gave a shit, until a particular paragraph seized the breath from her lungs. “R, speed up the project or we'll lose our war. The mad tiger was close. We can modify the research but you need to finish that cure. There's no telling what it could do to us if it goes out of control. We need a contingency plan in case the dig proves fruitless.”

“Mad Tiger” had to be a stand in for Renji, meaning whoever had written this letter had been deeply involved in his artificial feralism research, if not the one behind his funding. For Neon and the party this was a huge break, and the first actual lead they had acquired since finding the weapons in Renji's basement. Glancing at the seal again, she still couldn't figure out who's seal it was, but upon closer examination it shared many similarities with seals from a particular region, specifically Boaz. For the first time in her life Neon was glad Sergio forced her to pay attention in her geopolitics lessons as a child.

Glancing from the parchment to Mokk, the stunned look on Neon's face all too obvious, she began to speak, her lips pausing as if to give her brain a chance to catch up. “Where did you find this?” Then she realized... the council! They have to see this! “Wait.. I mean don't wait... I mean... follow me!” she said, darting off towards the council as she shouted behind her. “You can tell me when we get there. I need to show this to the council as soon as possible.”

The council seemed to expand magically as Neon ran towards the large ornate steps as the surrounding buildings fell from her peripheral vision. Taking the steps two at a time, she sprinted right past Kayla without responding. Upon reaching the top steps, she paused and turned. “Kayla?” Walking maybe halfway between Kayle and the main doors of the council, Neon found herself tugged in many directions at once. “Aren't you supposed to be meditating under a waterfall or something?” Her eyes darted between Kayla, Mokk, and the missive as she heard what Kayla had to say.

---

Torva clenched Hagumi's hand as Chii stepped up to the judges, the array of death machines whirring and crunching while others belched fire just beside them. She seemed so small, so fragile from the stands, and even some seraphim around them openly questioned how anyone could allow a child to risk their lives over a contest. He had to remind himself that it was not that long ago that they pursued Chii through the skies as the dragonness spewed acid and chewed on the remnants of her captors. Bravely, she stepped forward with confidence as the judges, somewhat hesitant as they listened to Cadogan's slurred explanations, but nevertheless bound by rule, rolled the first of the machines up.

The first, and most basic of machines, tested the armor's resistance to piercing damage via a metal spike wound by a spring. With the pull of a lever, the spike shot forward like an arrow, slamming against the armor and sending Chii flying backwards and the machine itself reeled in the opposite direction. Once Chii had recovered, the judges examined the armor, finding that not only was it perfectly unscathed, but that the testing device had become dented in the process.

Impressed, and somewhat emboldened, the judges than rolled out the second device, a large vice-like machine designed to test impact and crushing damage. Escorting Chii into the center of the machine, two burly seraphim began turning large cranks, each causing the machine to compress. A faint groaning sound echoed throughout the hushed stadium as the vice pressed against Cadogan's armor, the silence cut by the high pitched sound of ricocheting metal as one of the rivets burst. With a wave of a hand, the lead judge recorded the measurements of the machine and then Chii was released from its grip.

By the end of the barrage of tests Chii looked somewhat worn but otherwise unharmed, save for some bumps and bruises from being tossed around. Remarkably, Cadogan's armor looked even better, a few burn scars and scratches but otherwise no worse for the wear. Torva let out a triumphant howl as the scores were updating, putting Cadogan squarely in second place going into the final round. The seraphim who had taken first in the previous round had not competed in the armor division, placing he and Cadogan into a close race for first. Looking at the scoreboard, some contestants immediately dropped out, aware that they had no chance of breaking the top 10 with only one round to do. Consequently, some fans filtered out of the stadium as well during the break between rounds, providing the group with some much needed breathing room in the still-packed stadium.

The third round, the exhibition round, began after a few hours, with contestants lining up to show off their latest gadgets before the judges. The seraphim in first, having not yet been judged in the final round, took a few moments to approach Cadogan and wish him luck. “You've done quite well for yourself,” the blacksmith said, keeping his distance to avoid to smell of alcohol, “extremely well for a human, but I'm afraid this is where we part ways.” he added confidently as he patted a small device wrapped in cloth. “I'll be waiting to see what you have to show before going before the judges, if you don't mind. I always like going out with a bang.”

Mokk followed Neon's pace as they moved through the city. In comparison to the well-dressed officials throughout the council building he appeared a dangerous looking vagabond.He would tell Neon exactly what she wanted to hear.He'd even tell her the truth but it would be preferable if none of the council heard it. Assuredly they would not be happy to know he was a bandit of such savage nature in their very midst. He waited patiently near Neon as everything proceeded.