Annabeth Gulch

Annabeth turned to see Aramir. Aside from her name and that she was a little elf, that's about all Annabeth knew about the girl. "No... Not really. But how hard can it be, right?" Annabeth nervously chuckled. She really hoped someone here knew how to operate the weapon, as the best Annabeth knew how it'd work was that one of those levers underneath fires the balista and that she should have it aimed in the general direction of the roc, should they face it. And even that was just an estimated guess. "Hopefully we don't need it. At least the wagon seems sturdy enough to handle getting beaten around by a roc." Soon another, more familiar face showed up. Colette was a friend of Annabeth's, albeit not one that she meets up with as often as she'd like. Colette seemed to be a rather solitary girl, but hopefully this outing would allow the vampire to open up a little. Granted it's full of danger and everyone should be very careful, but they could still find time to get to know one another somehow. "Hi Colette. If you're here, than we're only missing two more people. Auriel and Liam, I think." Annabeth got onto the wagon and examined the basista, trying to get an idea of how to operate it.

Alaira Taenn

Alaira sat in her room, her face grim as she stared at her mother's armor. It gleamed, the pink surface perfectly polished. She sighed, her rehabilitation was not yet complete, and yet she was chosen for this mission. She hadn't been able to wear her armor, she was just too sluggish. Instead, she had only been able to polish it every day in the hopes that it would be in perfect condition when the time finally came to wear it. But, she couldn't take it. She looked down, and sighed at her meager armor, a leather design reinforced with Steel pauldrons and various plates. She looked to the corner, her beloved lance scarred and pitted from the terrible acid of the creature. She had been unable to smith, and so couldn't restore her weapon, and she would be damned if she would let anyone else do it. So she carried different gear, a shield and a mace, plus a bow. Normally she wouldn't need a bow, her abilities let her close the distance fast enough for range not to matter, but she had been sluggish.

Then there was Lyn. She couldn't take Lyn anywhere, in her state she wasn't sure if she could protect the girl. But her parents were also going on a mission of their own, an actual manhunt. She couldn't let Lyn go with them, and neither could her parents. She didn't trust Tyrael, legitimately fearing he would eat her or something. Uicle was no babysitter, Khan was sick, Lidda was overworked enough with the wounded, Sam was a similar case, but with old age on top of it, anyone else she trusted in the slightest was going on a mission or dead. That left one reasonable goddamn person she had met, ever, and while she didn't really trust the vampire too much she doubted Lucilia would harm a small child. So, she left Lyn with Lucilia (Put Lyn on her desk, slapped a large pouch of gold coins down, and said "Watch her." Didn't stick around long enough for the vampire to argue...), and was on her way to meet up with the others.

She arrived at the predetermined point, Ssarak and the Monastery girl were already waiting. She caught a fair bit of their conversation before she made her presence known. She laughed, hefting her mace over her shoulder. "Djarkel's a fun place, no shortage of scum that needs killin'. Great tavern brawls too, sometimes I'd just walk into one and start throwing punches when I got bored..." She reminisced, her days as a wandering mercenary were some of the best memories she had. " 'Course, some don't see it that way, and I say screw 'em. There's nothing like a little blood and carnage to get the blood pumpin', 'specially if they deserve it.." She listened, they were fighting demons? She hadn't attended the meeting, instead taking the time to entertain Lyn... At the mention of demons, all the joy was drained from her face, replaced with cold anger. "Who the hell cares what they want? They show up, we crush 'em. They come back, we crush 'em again, and again, and again, until they stop."

(Blarg, please tell me if I double post, guys.)

Colette

Colette had enough of the nervousness so she went to heard for her most recent friend Annabeth only hoping she would be going on the same mission with her, in the back of her mind she knew she couldnt handle being around a bunch of people she didnt know and probably didnt trust her since the attack. Hearing her name out of Annabeth's mouth, she followed it and her eyes shined slightly at the site of her friend. She frowned at what she said and she said in a nervous tone."I sure hope I will meet them soon. Annabeth...will they like me, especially what happened that night" she said

Darius could not understand why a woman would be a part of this mission that the vampire, Lucilia, had asked of them. It wasn't just any woman. No, it was the one that had stole his kill in the attack. Not that he would say anything about it, though. He could have his opinions, but when it came to a job or a task, they didn't matter. It was something that he had learned from his training. From the moment that the had entered the room until they finish the mission, he was working with this woman.

When they were dismissed from the Lucilia's office, Darius headed straight for the room he was given after he learned that he was a "mage," as they were so called. He had learned in the two short months that he had been there that for him, his anger was what allowed him to use some of his abilities. He was able to figure out how to do something without needing to be angry for it, but it took a bit of concentration to do it.

Darius quickly gathered his sword and dagger and additional clothing before he left for the courtyard. As he got closer to his destination, he heard voices. He heard something about tavern brawls and smiled. It had been a long time since he had had a fun fight. He turned a corner and saw that everyone from Lucilia's office was there plus one more. He looked at the newcomer. Another woman? Heh, I am definitely not in Yarosmere anymore. He stood off to the side and waited for the mission to begin.

Althalus

He laughed when Grey subtly accused him. Sharper than he looks, this guardsman. He even added subtle threats. Bravo. “I’m not sure if I should be flattered or not that you think me handsome, ruthless, martially skilled, and persuasive enough to be ‘The Terror of Port Slaughter.’ Let’s pretend I was this myth, for a moment. Why would you apprehend me, guardsman? For saying something the rest of the world believes about Port Slaughter? For knowing wanted criminals? For telling you some of the legends centered around that mask in my home town? Surely you have local legends in your birth town that you enjoy. And if you think the myths are about a lowly peasant gaining grandeur, you’re missing the point. It’s a Port Slaughter thing, I suppose.” He hefted his crossbow, meeting Grey’s stare. “I can promise you that I’ll do all in my power to keep them from being killed. I can’t promise I’ll choose anyone over her.” He chuckled. “Love. It makes a man do stupid things, no? I’ll help you look through those warrants. Who knows, maybe I’ll see more old acquaintances and tell you who you need to watch out for and who you can simply ignore. Regardless, it should be a simple enough job. You get the attention of the mages, waving your weapon about and making threatening movements and noises, and then I’ll shoot them with the crossbow while they’re distracted. Simple, easy, quick, and clean.”

He paused considering something. “Of course, with magic, nothing is ever simple or easy. This should be fun!”

Aramir

“Very hard, if you’re too small to use the ballista by yourself.” Aramir replied cheerily. All she knew was that she wouldn’t be using the ballista anytime soon. They wouldn’t need to use it at all, preferably. Which Aramir knew was slim to none with someone like Auriel with their group. Subtlety didn’t seem to be in the elf’s vocabulary. And with all the others they had with them, Aramir suspected they’d be using the wagon and the ballista far more than Lucilia would have wanted them to. She gave a small shrug. It can’t be any worse than being attacked by a shadow demon, then waking up to more demons attacking the College. She shuddered at the memory. She hadn’t met that particular demon again, and she fervently hoped that she would never meet it again. To occupy herself, she checked the gear she had brought again, making sure everything was in the best condition it could be. She gave a cheerful wave and ‘Hello!’ to Colette, before returning to the task at hand. It was finished all too soon, and she was left wondering how big the Roc was, and how they were supposed to steal a wagon from it without it noticing and attacking.

“This is going to go badly.” She muttered under her breath.

Lucilia and Lyn

It was no surprise to Lucilia when Alaira dropped Lyn off at her desk. With Lyn's parents gone, of course they would give Lyn to Alaira to take care of her. But with Alaira busy with her own duties, she would need to drop Lyn off with someone she could trust. Lucilia had no problems taking care of Lyn, aside from the fact that Lucilia herself was busy trying to put out fires on multiple fronts, and there was still the matter of her Untainted Legion that she needed to work out, and about a hundred other matters that are an immediate concerns. Not to say that Lucilia didn't have time to take care of Lyn. It's just that she'd be juggling Lyn amongst the other task she had to do, and Lyn wasn't really a child. Granted, chronologically the girl was barely over three months old. But physically she was at least six years old and already capable of magic. This much was telling when Lyn began to manipulate the vines in Lucilia's offices.

This made Lucilia had a rather... Sinister idea. Frankly, teaching was not one of Lucilia's highest priorities. There were never many Herbamancers and Lucilia's time was better spent keeping the college afloat. However Lyn has thus far shown ability to be quite a talented Herbmancer, but still largely a novice. However... Lucilia had an experimental elixar that she's been meaning to test. She needed novices for it of course, but the elixar only worked well for Lucilia's brand of magic, and as preivously mentioned, there usually isn't a lot of novices of herbmancer. Except for Lyn.

Lucilia laced her figners together and looked at the little girl. Only three months old but as big as a child. "Nagas are certainly a strange race... So Lyn, do you know who I am?"

Lyn was inwardly disappointed she couldn't have went with Aunt Alaira as she was set on Lucilia's desk, beside a bag, then left behind. She had been busy staring after her caregiver's back until Lucilia's voice drew her attention. Lyn's head whipped about and looked at the teacher, her mind absorbed the words rather well for her age. Gently clutching her toy within her arms, she nodded. Though if the woman required more proof then that bit then it might be a little difficult as Lyn had trouble with reading and writing.

Lyn was quite, but that wasn't surprising. Lucilia would just need to be gentle with Lyn. "Than you would know that I'm Lucilia, the herbmancy teacher. That means my magic works with plants. Can you say Lucilia?"

Lyn bit her lip. She knew what the teacher was trying to do, others like Alaira, Althalus, and even Lidda had attempted to coax her into speaking yet it wasn't as easy as they seemed to believe. Still, she felt it was best to humor the woman. Lyn took a deep breath then tried to form the words with her lips, tongue and teeth. Mostly it made her look utterly funny while she over compensated for the vowels and constants resulting in garble. "L-l-l..."

The sound was all she could manage. Her face scrunched in frustration and tried harder to push farther sounds, yet she failed. Likely she would hurt herself if that possible before she gave up. As if sensing this, the toy wiggled its little paws and snatched her attention then patted her arm. Its head twisted about to give Lucilia what might've been a disapproving glare.

Lucilia simply smiled as Lyn struggled to say her name. Perhaps it was too soon to have Lyn say something so... Complicated. Still, there was experiments to conduct. At least Lyn could understand her well enough that Lucilia wouldn't need to resort to baby talk. "It's okay Lyn, you did your best! Now, I have some work I need to do, but I think you can help me. Would you like to help me, Lyn?" With any luck, if the exlixar works well on Lyn, Lucilia would have the basis for creating a stronger version for herself. And a little something for little Lyn too. It shouldn't hurt her, however if it proves successful... Well, Lyn would be in a very unique position.

Lyn smiled after Lucilia praised her, a sense of accomplishment sank in before a request was made. Naturally, being innocent, she nodded at Lucilia's question and hopped down from her seat. She still held the toy within her arms while she walked around the desk to face Lucilia, curious about what task the Herbamancer teacher might want from her.

Lucilia took Lyn to one of the workshops for Herbmancy. There were plenty of plants and animals wandering around, msot of them which ignored the two people in the shop. Lucilia went to her personal work place and took out a few vials. In these vials were bean-like objects. Taking them out carefully she heated them over a spoon. It was a slow heat, so while Lucilia waited she explained to Lyn what she was going to do. "So Lyn, I heard from a little birdy that you know a bit of my magic. I have a little bit of medicine that I want you to try, and than I want to see you show me a trick. Okay?" Once the pills melted into a luke-warm syrupt, Lucilia poured the contents onto another spoon and turned to Lyn. She wanted to see if Lyn would be willing to help her in her experiment or not before she puts the mysterious contents into the little girl's mouth.

Lyn tilted her head to the side watching the teacher melt what seemed like stringy things into a spoon, then melted into a thick liquid. She nodded her head again though mostly it was habit then understanding as her eyes glowed at the process. Anything new to her was an immediate attention magnet which often got her into much trouble, both with her parents as well as other more protective guardians. The only question was this: What trick did Lucilia want her to show? Logically, at least in most adult minds, she likely should've more worried about the medicine she was about to be given but Lyn trusted way too easily and that was her biggest flaw.

Her arms squeezed the toy animal tightly then opened her mouth to show Lucilia she was willing to participate. She only hoped the liquid wasn't going to taste bitter or icky like some of the stuff Sam gave her.

Lucilia carefully put the medicine into Lyn's mouth. It was largely tasteless, but it had a metallic taste thanks to the spoon. Once Lyn swallowed the medicine Lucilia gave her a cup of water to chase it down. Lucilia observed Lyn then, looking for any obvious changes. So far, nothing. So Lucilia tried to test Lyn's magic. "Okay Lyn, let's see if you can copy me, okay? Try to do this." Lucilia held out her hand and in it was a small sunflow seed. Lucilia focused her magics into it and the seed began to sprout and grow into a sunflower, despite having no dirt, water, or even sunlight. It's roots were spread out on Lucilia's palm but she simply plucked the plant out with her other hand and showed it to Lyn. "Now you try."

Lucilia's trick was something of a high-end novice skill. Rapid growth was one of the intermediate abilities a herbmancer masters, but they do start small as a novice, with seeds just like Lucilia. However for a completely new novice, to give life to a seed strait from their hands was often out of their ability. If the exlicir works as Lucilia thinks it should however, even Lyn could pull this off. "Becareful dear, and if it is too hard, just... Shake your head."

Lyn nodded her understanding then reached for the seed. She set into her hand and tried to focus on it, her eyes narrowed and face slightly crunched up into the familiar expression she used to try to speak. A slight tingling edged into her palm. The seed seemed to split, yet there was no green growth which rose out of it or the vevlet leaves which sprouted into a seedling. After several more minutes Lyn had to admit defeat. Her thin shoulders lowered in depression at her failure and her head shook, the palm tilted to drop the seed within Lucilia's hand. She wanted to show her apology yet was unsure how. Unlike with her parents, Alaira or even Coco, Lyn was pretty sure she couldn't just hug Lucilia to display it. Her failure wasn't terrible enough to cry over after all so tears were out of the question. The only thing she could do was stare at the seed and back to Lucilia, faintly hoping the teacher would realize she wanted to succeed.

Lucilia kept a unintentionally stoic expression as Lyn tried to make the seed grow. Lucilia tend to be rather serious during her experiments, and even if she was expected to watch over Lyn, old habits die hard. When Lyn proved unable to make the seed sprout, Lucilia simply took the seed and put it into a seperate container, with other cracked open and partially dead seeds. "Hmm... Alright, give me a few moments."

What followed was a series of test and experiments between Lucilia and Lyn. They were short activities, barely twenty minutes long. After each attempt at having Lyn try to grow the seed, Lucilia would take one of the strange medical pills, melt it into a syrup, feed it to Lyn, and see her try to make the seed grow. Each time she took a new pull out of a vial, she'd sprinkle mysterious black flakes over the liquids before feeding them to Lyn. After fifteen minutes or so, Lyn was able to make a single rose seed sprout into a rose bush. The development was so astonishing that Lucilia had to counter with her own magic, less Lyn become consumed by the briars. Luckily she intervene quickly enough that there was no serious damage done. Lucilia wasn't finished and did a quick check up on Lyn, noting that despite how many times Lyn was made to force the seed to grow nor how much energy she had put into the last attempt, her mage blood levels were fairly stable, given Lyn's size and experience.

To Lucilia, this meant that her elixir was a success. She had just made a substance that could simulate mageblood. Of course, there were likely much more effects that she has yet to discover. But thanks to Lyn, Lucilia was positive that the elixir had a definite effect. Lucilia incubated a few new samples for later, but she gave Lyn a bit of the old versions. She put them into small, edible packets made from sap. "You can have these for helping me Lyn. If you eat them, you can use your magic like you did before! Now, what would you like to do now, since you've helped me out?"

Lyn held out her hand, the samples hidden away within her tunic belt for safe keeping, for the teacher to take hold. After the teacher reached out her hand, the child took off after Alaria. Gently she tugged Lucilia along to where the small group had gone, her feet stopped just a short distance from them and pointed at Alaira. Her eyes again shifted toward the teacher while she pointed from herself to Alaira indicating she wanted to join the mission despite its dangers.

Lucilia could see that Lyn wanted to follow Alaira, though she obviously had some issues against it. That group would be fighting demons, and certainly can't always keep an eye out for Lyn. Than again... The caravaneers weren't exactly fighters either, so perhaps Lyn could always stay with them while the others fought off the demons and other threats. Plus this would be a good opportunity for Lyn to field test the elixir samples. There was certainly a lot of danger involved, but with no risk was no reward. And beside, she was confident that the others would protect Lyn. Now she just needed to figure out a way to get Lyn with the caravan before the others discovered her... Than she had an idea.

---

Eventually the caravanners arrived to the wagon, with Lucilia in tow. She wanted to see the group off before they left, wishing them luck, and so forth. The caravanners loaded the last of their cargo onto their wagon and got ready to ride, but Lucilia stopped them to say a few words. "I'm glad to see that everyone chose to partake in this quest. Remember, this isn't just an escort mission. There is a method to the madness behind these demons attacks, and I want to know what that is. Undoubtebly you'd face all sorts of resistance and trials, and I want you to make sure you document them in the event that they have something to do with these attacks. And more importantly, I want you all to come back alive. Regardless of what intel you do or don't get, we can't replace capable people like yourselves. I wish you all luck and may the gods watch over you."

Mar and Tyrael

Mar had been quiet most the conversation as she had listened to Lucilia after she was summoned to her office. Mostly she was just a shadow, her mind deep in thought and completely calm. Namely it kept wandering back to Lyn whom she left with Alaira to watch. With this new information, her child was on her own and for some reason the very thought made Mar rather…agitated. This was unusual for her as never in her long lived experience had this feeling been so dominate in her mind. Especially when centered on an individual, blood or not. Even her own brother drew no such emotion from her in their youth yet her daughter did.

She had to stop this change though she had lingering doubts she could. At least on her own.

Ideally the mission was perfect to toss away her worries and return to what she knew best, killing. Naga didn’t have to think deeply when it came to a task like this one which was a blessing in itself. Mar was unsure how much more she could tolerate of this emotional tug of war or the fact it divided her inside. One thing she was sure of was the fact she needed a weapon and a strong one, her last one broken and dissolved into unusable materials. Normally Mar would’ve fashioned herself a new one but with her body in recovery and tending to Lyn, that left her little time to hunt for proper materials. So there wasn’t much chance to make a new scythe. There was only option: Tyrael. While she hated the idea, it was better than going without one and risk farther injury. Unable to accept being defenseless, Mar slithered off toward the forge to seek out her companion for a very uncharacteristic request.

Between Lucilia's absurd requests, micromanaging golems, and all the orders he needed to fulfill for the forge, Tyrael was not really in a social mood. His responds became grunts and his orders amounted to him pointing in anywhich direction and assuming that whoever came to him would know what to do. He was growing even more irratible as various fools and students came in asking for runes and weapons, when he already made a sign that they should not ask him about their equipment. He hired a clerk for that purpose. But this was just all in the days work for Tyrael. After a while, he can't even complain. If he reaAfter a while, he can't even complain. If he really grew tired of it he could have stopped any time. Nowadays he simply does it because that's the pattern his body has grown accustomed to.

In the midst of sharpening the points of a morning star he noticed a guest in his forge. He hardly thought he'd see her today, least of all here. "Mar?" Tyrael didn't stop what he was doing and merely called out to Mar to let her know that Tyrael was aware of her presence. He finished the morning star and started fletching arrows.

Mar was comforted by the sight of Tyrael, namely to show somethings never changed despite the time passing. Her eyes watched him a bit more to absorb the sight then rustled the ground while she moved closer, mindful of the heat within the fire and tools left about. Her first time in his forge she had gotten careless and sliced herself on one of the finished blades which resulted in a reflexive response. It didn't end well.

She didn't waste much time though she clear uncomfortable with her words. "I.... I need a weapon."

Her pride gnawed at her slightly for uttering such a sentence yet she knew it was necessary.

Tyrael didn't seem particularlly phased or surprised at Mar's request. He had half expected that she would have made a request one day given that she'd be too busy to recreate her original weapon, what with school and Lyn. And since she was the only one who really used Scythes as weapons, Tyrael could stockpile a few of them and not worry about having to make up one on the spot. He finished making a barrel of arrows first before he stood up and entered one of the many adjecent rooms in the forge. When he returned, he had a scythe in his hands. Carefully carved and molded from wyvern scales and reenforced with steel. Unlike Mar's original scythe, this one could not shrink itself into a small skull, but this one was made to take damage and abuse. Even if Mar used it hapazardly she'd be hard pressed to find anything that would break it.

Tyrael simply handed the weapon to her and went back to work. His body was tense, showing that he had many things on his mind that needed to be addressed right now. His face showed a certain determination that also said that he had no intention of letting off for a moment. There was a pile of blades that needed to be attached to hilts, and Tyrael was determined to ensure they're battle ready swords by the end of the day. If he had the time he would have conversed with Mar, perhaps even allow her to see a wider selection of scythes he had prepared for her, but time was not a luxary he could waste. He gave her what he felt would be most efficent and started to carve out wooden handles.

Mar gently and cautiously took the weapon. For several moments, her eyes traced the simple yet artful nature of the weapon made from natural materials. Though few she could identify with or set the image of an animal to. Though it was slight different then what the Naga was use to, its weight slightly heavier and balance off in comparison to her bone one. Where it was light, this was heavier and where it whistled through the air in a high pitch, the tone on this one was lower. However she couldn't afford to be picky.

She turned in time to see Tyrael sank back into his work and spoke her concern when she been about to leave. "Working yourself to death isn't a fitting death for a Naga ally, Tyrael, I would hate to see Lyn worry herself if she doesn't get to see you today."

Tyrael had to meticulously carve out each handle to be large enough to hold the tang of the blades but small enough to give them a snug fit. He nearly missed what Mar had said because he didn't expect her to stay around to speak with him. Once more his duties prevented him from really engaging in direct conversation with Mar, but he at least tried to give her a meaningful responds. "It will take more than my duties at the college to kill me. Lyn is strong. She does not need to care about me, not while she has you." Once Tyrael had made a small pile of wodden handles, he coated the tang of the blades with a thin resin and fitted them into the slot on the handles. Cheap swords, but for the malitia they were meant for they would kill a demon just fine. He'd bind them with leather and fit a hilt onto them once he fitted each blade with a handle. He had at least a thousand more to go.

Mar's eyes shifted to the weapon once more but her mind was drawn back to Lyn, namely her growth and words Tyrael spoke. Her next words seemed vague when to came to who it was addressed to, him or her, as she edged out. "Yes, but its not my life time which worries me. How much longer will she be able to rely on me before her light is extinguished?"

That question hanging on the air seemed to bitter her surroundings and quickly she departed, unable to face any answer Tyrael might have. Though to those unfamiliar with her it appeared as if she had no emotion toward the thoughts at all.

---

Still silent, she made her way to the group which held Althalus. For most it wasn't uncommon Mar ensured she distanced herself apart from the main crowd though many believed she was antisocial and too noble to be seen among their presence. This had brought snide remarks on more then one occasion which she easily ignored. It wasn't her upbring to react to words, though she secretly had considered taking a leaf out of Alaira's book and bring her tail down across some poor offender's skull and laying him flat. Too bad her first encounter with the College had been on sour terms.

Idly she listened to Althalus and the one, Grey she thought was his name, converse until the carriage was loaded up. How a rather enclosed space was going to hold was a mystery to her and in addition slightly unnerved her confidence. True Naga lived in cave systems but a box wasn't made of rock or natural for that matter. Completely different from her natural habitat so this ride was bound to an uncomfortable one.

Liam

'A roc? What is a roc, even?'

Catching a sigh in his throat just before it escaped, Liam kept silent until Lucillia finished her briefing. It was an easy decision, for him. It had been a while after the last hunt and he really needed to hunt something, even if it sounded somewhat dangerous. Liam had tackled dangerous beasts before.

The cactus had withered, somehow. Between going out to Lucillia's office and coming back to his own dorm, it had died. Not even with his own herbamancy could he bring it back up. It was gone. But that was the least of his worries right now. Sure, that had been a pet that cost him some money, but he cared little about coin. He cared much more about his clothing, one of the things that he spent most of his coin on. He packed some varied clothes into a couple messenger packs, packs which he slung over his head and onto both his shoulders. Minutes later, Liam walked out of the room. His thin, porous clothing wrinkled under the added weight of the packs.

It wasn't very protective clothing, he admitted. In his defense, he packed thicker, warmer clothing, he'd tell himself, in case their destination felt cold enough for his fur to not provide enough insulation.

Then he reached the stables. It was uncomfortable, to be honest, to be around all these people. Hairless for the most part, like everything else in the College. He missed home. Having no way of going back yet, he knew that he'd have to grow accustomed to the humans' customs and cultures. At least, in order to be able to find a woman who'd spend some time with him.

The moment he jumped into the wagon, he was brought out of his introspection, and he looked around. He spared a few waves here and there where it was due, but shared very little words, and even less small talk.

It would have been great if even one of his friends was there with him.

Annabeth Gulch

"Don't worry Colette, it's not like you did anything wrong. Just... Keep your cool, and I'm sure everyone would come to like you. Looks like most are already here!" Annabeth directed Colette to Liam and Aramir. Aside from their names, Annabeth didn't know either of them. Hopefully they won't have anything against vampires. "I think we're only waiting for one more. I don't think I've introduced myself to most of you. I'm Annabeth Gulch. I'm hopeful that we'll complete this job without much trouble." Honestly, she did not expect to avoid the roc, and Lucilia likely didn't either. Hence why they were given the balista. Annabeth wished that more could come, or at least more capable people. She was starting to feel insecure, but shook the feeling off soon enough. Regardless if she was not the best for this job, she was already here. There was no turning back now.

Caravan Escort

After everyone had gathered, the group was sent out of the college quickly. Unfortunately, there wasn't much space on the wagons for the four to ride on aside from some footholds, but the wagon did not go too fast anyways. On the way the caravaneer explained their route.

"Right, so it'll be about a three-day trip to Hysteria if all goes well. We won't make it today, but if we keep going at this pace we ought to make it to a little village called Elsewhere by night. We'll rest up at the inn there and wake up a bit before sun up, and spend the rest of the day heading towards Hysteria. We'll likely have to make camp during the second day, but we ought to make it to the city by the third day, sometime in the afternoon or so. But from what we've been hearing, we'll be needing you on that second day. We'll have to take a bridge over a large ravine, which is where we hear most of the attacks take place. If it were me, I wouldn't even be a mile near that place, but any other route would make the trip take at least a week. And I'm told that you all would protect us, so I'm putting my faith in you. Oh, and we'll be going through a few of the Baron's territory too. Just leave the talking to me, alright? Djarkel doesn't take kindly to foreigners entering their lands without paying tolls, but your college gave me the story I'd need to ensure that they don't give you a hard time. That being said, if I'm not there, I can't really help you out. So uh... Don't stray."

After that the trip was largely uneventful even after they entered Djarkel lands. Slowly the Twilight Hold's verdant green grass changed to an ashy grey, if not a gritty brown from bare dirt. Scattered across the barren lands of Djarkel were the gutted remains of conflicts of the past, with only a few trees and growth feasting off the decay. Hours would past uneventfully, with the only notable shift being that the grass started to grow taller but still were a dull grey. The wagon followed along a dirt path that showed signs that many have traveled on it before, and more or less constituted as a "road". It wasn't until the caravan reached a bridge crossing a river did the party find their first sign of trouble.

The caravan stopped as at the edge of the bridge, two men were dueling each other. They each were armed with rapiers and a parrying dagger, fighting with each other furiously. They showed great skill, so much that neither could really land a decisive blow on another. More importantly, they were in the way. The caravan couldn't get on the bridge with the two duelist in the way, and the tall grass would make it impossible for the wagon to go around without getting tangled. The caravan leader looked to the students from the college. "Is there anything you all can do about this? I... Don't want to trouble them, but..."

Eania Manhunt

The group was soon underway, with the arrival of their guide, a guardsman who knew the area that the man Uicle had talked to described, and could lead them there. As everyone piled into the carriage, it proved to be as uncomfortable as it looked, and there was barely enough space for everyone. It took a couple of days to get the edge of Forest of Symphony. They were couple of slow, mind numbingly peaceful, days. The most exciting thing that happened was the change from the Twilight Hold’s grounds into Eania’s territory. But they got there, their guide speaking about as much as the oxen did. And before they even got to the forest itself, they came across the most recent work of the mages. The first hint any of them got was smoke rising in the distance. A short hour later and the smell hit them. Burning flesh and wood, mixed with a foul smell that had nothing to do with either. It didn’t take long after that for the carriage to stop at the scene. There were half a dozen burned down houses, fire still crackling merrily in two of them. A house, larger than the rest, was in the middle of the devastation and strangely untouched. Most of the small village’s occupants were out on the street, either butchered where they stood, or in small piles that had been set aflame. Human remains were scattered about, most clearly chewed upon.

Their guide spoke, saying more than he had said in the past two days combined. “This is as close as we’re going to get to a path to follow when hunting the mages. Come on then. Let’s see if there are any survivors, or tracks, or something to go off of. They could have gone in any direction from here.” With that, he started to head inside the ruins, with or without the students of the College. Upon closer examination, several things would become clear; scattered throughout the bodies of the villagers, there were Yarosmere soldiers, three of them, easily identifiable as such by their desert uniforms, one of them had a blade blackened as if he had stuck it in a fire. Some of the corpses were well into decomposition, while others looked as if they had been killed only hours ago. Some of the walls of the houses that weren’t burned looked as if they had rotted and fallen apart. Other than those unusual facts, everything else was that of a typical village. Iron axes, scythes, and hoes could be found in the houses. Handmade dolls could be found clutched in dead children’s hands.

The door to the untouched house would be firmly locked. As soon as someone tried to open the door to the house, an adolescent voice screamed out “Leave this place! You are foreign invaders who have no right to be in my kingdom! Leave now before I bring my royal wrath down upon you, and my subjects take up arms!” A teenage boy’s face could be seen staring at them down from an open window of the untouched house.

Althalus glanced about, seemingly unfazed by it all. “Oh yes. I quake in my boots at the mere thought of offending this child. Is anyone opposed to simply breaking down the door?”

Roc Mission
A Roc Start

The horses set aside for the day’s ride to Leaper’s Plateau stamped their hooves nervously, their nostrils snorted and breathed heavy mist into the warm air. At their barrel bellies hung two days’ worth of supplies as well as extras like sleeping bundles and water skins to farther add comfort to the long ride. Among the unsteady animals was Eural, a young man about between his early twenties and late teens. His blond hair was a mess and his clothing just as scruffy, crumbled by long nights of sleeping within them and covered in layers of dust.

Once he noted the group which had arrived, he smirked. “Well, if we’re all done chatting let’s be off shall we? It’s a day’s ride to and back but it’s over tough territory and if we’re lucky, the Roc might be away when we arrive.”

Once they mounted, he led them through the gate and across the grey plains. The travel pace was likely extended farther by the slow set pace because of the balista which was a large, and in Eural’s opinion pointless machine to bring, hulking thing which required several horses to tug its wagon. Mages… always over complicating things he thought in a reproachful manner during his ride. Though not a word passed through his lips.

Several hours later….

Half way into the journey, their horses had left the grisly sight of demon heads tacked up like a morbid mini forest and buzzing of flies almost deafening behind them. However the scent seemed to follow and was almost too much to tolerate, Eural forcefully brought his horse slowly to a halt, preferably downwind of it. His beast, including the others, had become rather unsettled. Their tails flickered nervously while their heads seemed to scan the horizon, seeming to see something none of them could yet nothing seemed to be heading their way. Actually, the most unnerving part was the total absence of animals at all. Never had a bird sang its beautiful song nor had the glimpse of white tail deer that darted across the plains. It was if everything was scared into dark silence.

He dismounted, his leg dropped hard into the ground. “Alright, we’ll give the horses a rest here and take a light lunch. We can also determine our strategy too with how to deal with the Roc. I much rather not waltz up on it before we all know what we’re doing. Nothing screams dinner like lined up horse meat to a Roc.”

With practice ease, Eural unlatched his bag and a bundle to cushion his chosen seat on the ground. Wasting little time he had indicated where the others should sit then crashed himself. He chewed on some hard tack bread, washing it down with ale, while he took a small reed from nearby for a writing tool. He quickly sketched out on the dirt the position of the key markers, the plateau, the road, and where they were currently.

“Alright, here’s what we’re dealing with. The Roc is a big ass bird. It’s large enough to lift a full size wagon, draft horse and all, right up off its feet and across large distances. Its eye sight can see in time of broad daylight but it can’t see at night, or in twilight. Flaps of its wings can reach to about several miles per hour which is like a full mage’s gale for an aeromancer if we managed to ground the bitch. Weak points are the eyes and wing joints, though the later will take great force to damage and you need to be close. Watch out for beak, feet, and talons. The beak and talons will shred you, the feet will crush you. Last location was the road just before Leaper’s Plateau so its stands to reason that’s where her nest is. So, any questions or ideas on our approach?” Eural asked, slightly in a mocking pleasant voice.

Ssarak Dyreackthanose

---

Ssarak made full use of the wagon's footholds whenever possible to ease his burden on the journey. Even the most well-conditioned individual would grow tired after long enough of walking in full gear, and they needed to cover as much ground as they could as quickly as possible. Not to mention that each of them needed to be in as good of a condition as possible in the event that they ran across trouble, which, unfortunately, they did as they came across a bridge over a river.

Coming upon the scene of the two duelists, there were countless possibilities that could have brought the two into their confrontation, which is why Ssarak was careful not to guess or speculate on any of them. He intended to make no assumptions based on anything but evidence. He knew that they were engaged in a duel, and that they appeared to be adept in combat. In his mind, he went over the potential advantages and disadvantages they had over the duelists. For himself, he noticed that they seemed to be using strictly blades, which would not piece his armor. It was technically possible for a blade to be forced through gaps in joints, but the overlapping plates Ssarak used did minimize those areas as much as possible, and he was no novice in the use of his armor. That being said, the duelists appeared skilled, and he was not going to make the mistake of underestimating them. Beyond himself, there was Meirin, Darius, and Alaira, all of whom were skilled in their own styles. Of course, the ideal situation for Ssarak would be to avoid entering a fight at all, and instead settle the issue with words alone. Between Darius and Alaira, however, he worried that wouldn't be possible. They did outnumber the pair of duelists, but there were still factors working against them, the largest of which was lack of information. They knew nothing of these duelists' abilities beyond what they could see, and there was always the possibility that it was a ruse, something to draw them out so hidden attackers could strike while they did not expect it. As well, they were obviously far more agile than Ssarak, but as long as he was with his friends and allies, they could make up for his weakness.

Ssarak walked alongside the wagon, fully armed and armored, but did not yet step any further. Instead, he observed from a distance, intending to plan with the others. "What approach do you all believe would be best. I would like to avoid a fight, if at all possible. Perhaps we should attempt to speak to them from a distance? They are engaged in combat, so there is a good chance we will not receive a response, but it could be a good opening strategy." He suggested.

Walking was nothing new to Meirin. Walking long distances less so; she did used to protect caravans through Djarkel after all. She let the others take turns on the wagon's footholds as she simply walked alongside keeping pace with the wagon. Despite the dark and desolate landscape, Meirin felt at home. She was familiar to these lands, and for their lifelessness, there was a certain serene beauty to it. Plus, these open plains were perfect places for open warfare. Meirin couldn't help it; she's heard stories of great battles and could see them all here. War was a terrible thing, but a sight to behold nonetheless.

As the caravan was moving along familiar dirt roads they came to a stop. Two men fighting a pitch battle in front of a bridge. Meirin's adrenaline flared up. This was a perfect spot for an ambush, and she'd know it. It was a bait-and-switch: caravan gets blocked by a scene, and the bandits would move their men into position to maximize their surprise attack. The tall grass makes it difficult for the wagon to move, and there was no way to go but back if they weren't going to fight. The fighters were blocking to bridge so they couldn't go forward, and no doubt these men had others hidden in the grass to ambush them. Meirin looked around, trying to find some sign of where the bandits would be lying in wait. Ssarak mentioned trying to talk to the fighters and avoid fighting, but Meirin knew it wouldn't be that simple. At best they'd have to pay the bandits a toll to pass, but that's not what they were hired to do. And that was if they were even going to be willing to just allow them to go free afterwards and not attack them when the caravan shows them their backs. No, a fight was going to be expected, and Meirin was going to get ready for a fight. She gripped her Monk's Spade firmly, ready to flourish it at a moment's notice.

"This is a trap. Ssarak, speak to the fighters if you must. The rest of us should keep an eye out for their allies, who are no doubt aware and waiting for us." If these bandits knew what they were doing, they would be hiding in the tall grass with crossbows ready to shoot them. If she could figure out their location, she could expose them with a wind burst, or maybe use the burst to close the distance and take out a bandit before he could reload his crossbow or draw his weapon. Meirin narrowed her eyes and looked into the tall grass, ready to take the initiative.

Alaira Taenn

Ah, good old walking. It had been, what, nearly a year since she joined the college? It had been quite a while since she'd traveled, and it bugged her to no end that she wasn't in peak condition, and thus unable to really enjoy it. She had stumbled more times than she had cared to admit, and the footholds were a welcome convenience. Still, she had been able to enjoy the fights. There was a certain charm to it, but she was mostly excited at the prospect of entering such a hostile place. Sure, she wasn't at her best, but that didn't mean she wasn't leagues better than your common bandit.

The wagon had come to a stop, evidently some bastards were dueling. Bullshit. The only time you dueled on a bridge was when it was a particularly dramatic one. This? wooden bridge over a gods-damn river that was barely worthy of the term. Either this was some sort of trap, or these two really needed to get some gods-damn style. The girl from the mountains seemed to hold that sentiment as well, though she was being a bit too... cautious. "T... Talk to them?" Alaira asked, incredulously. The dragon man really needed to learn that the sledgehammer was mightier than the pen. "You do know that this is probably a bandit shakedown, right?" She asked, gesturing to the combatants as she hopped off the wagon. "Look, they've probably got guys in the tall grass over there. Here, let me prove it. If I'm wrong, I owe ya a drink." She said simply as she raised her arm at the grass.

Now, a few things were certain. First, basically everyone who knew her had been instructed to not allow alaira to use her electromancy at any cost, it might worsen her condition. Second, she was awfully quick, Ssarak didn't have time to stop her, and third, Djarken Graygrass was very, very flammable. She bit back a scream of agony as she fired a bolt at the grass, setting a large amount of it on fire as it just... went up. Probably wouldn't kill them but if anyone was in there, they'd be leaving.

Darius was no stranger to walking, so he followed the wagon in silence, only speaking to get the names of the people around him. When they had approached the bridge and Ssarak made his suggestion of talking to the duelling men, Darius nodded. It was a valid plan, but he agreed with Meirin and was about to say something when Alaira started to speak. He listened and grew confused as she finished talking and raised her hand.

He held back a shout as the half elf shot a bolt of electricity into the grass to the side of the road. He had not been expecting that, and when he noticed that the grass had caught fire, he could not believe the that she had done that without much thought. Sure, he had thought this to be an ambush as well; he had been on both sides of them, but the rash decision frustrated him to no end. If the fire were to spread as quickly as it had sprung up, it could become a big problem and take half of their fighting space, if not all of it.

Frustration gave way to anger quickly. Why? Why had she done that? It was a stupid, stupid move. What would it gain? Drawing out the ambushers early could be used to win the battle quickly, but the risk was too much for the benefit it could have. Gods, that was a terrible move. I hope that she is a better fighter than thinker. Darius unsheathed his sword and glared at the back of the half elf before he turned to Ssarak.

"I would have told you the same thing Meirin did, but Alaira thought to risk a wildfire to tell you the same thing. Let us wait and see if she is right before we do anything else." Darius turned to watch the fire and see whether or not Alaira was correct.

Grey Onyx

It wasn't a comfortable ride, to be sure.Though technically Mar was bigger, Grey had by far the bulkiest frame, and thus took up the most space. As such, he had accidently elbowed people quite a few times. The ride was very, very quiet, a situation he had tried to rectify many times. However, he found it unnerving how... quiet his companions were, Coco being the exception. Mar seemed to be the least... sociable, though she always seemed angry about... something. He had spent most of the trip wondering if he'd done anything wrong. Coco, however, was different. The only one with anything resembling a sunny disposition. He was none too happy about having her tag along, it wasn't right to have such a nice girl thrown into this world of blood and mayhem headfirst like this. The other missions were about hunting monsters or protecting a wagon, they were a bona fide hit squad.

Then... they arrived. It was a nightmare, death filled the streets, mutilated bodies were everywhere. Drawing his axe and affixing his shield, he hopped off the cart as he listened to the guide speak, he was honestly debating whether he was mute before this moment. He found one unnerving theme among the violence; decay. Decay everywhere he looked, it made no sense. Then he remembered his brief fight with Khan's spindly demon, the one with the... unique manner of speech. "Beware. It's obvious this is the work of a Noxomancer. Decay, as you can probably tell. These cowards are fond of tricks, be on your guard." He said, mostly for Coco's and perhaps Leith's benefit. Athalus was a Noxomancer himself if he recalled correctly, and he overestimated Mar's knowledge of magic (how was he supposed to know magic was stupidly rare in Naga?). Meanwhile, while he wasn't sure about Leith, Coco was... flighty. He wasn't sure if she knew anything of magebloods that weren't her own.

One house, however, seemed untouched. Naturally, this warranted investigation and his position as indestructible brute made him the choice for door duty. However some... child had shouted when he tried opening it, spouting nonsense. Athalus spoke up at about this time. "He is clearly unhinged, the last time I underestimated a child it nearly cost me my last eye." He said calmly, glancing at the kid now and then to make sure he didn't have a crossbow or somesuch. "We could try diplomacy..."[b] He said, looking over the group. Athalus and Mar were bad choices, Athalus less so. Leith would likely scare the village dweller, and Grey himself was no better... However... [b]"Coco!" He called. "Could you try to calm the boy down?" He asked. He'd never met anyone that didn't like the plant girl...

And sure enough the grass was lit aflame. First it was only a few smoking reeds, but the grass was dry and the weather was arid. It didn't take long before the smoking grass became a full fire, and eventually the entire caravan was surrounded by a blazing inferno. If anyone was in the grass would be a mystery; there was no screams, no shouting, not even the sound of people rustling out of the grass. And with fire came smoke as well; the caravan was covered in a thick, choking smoke. The caravan's horses began to panic and the caravaneers lost control of them. They rushed off into the smoke, presumably towards the bridge but visual confirmation was next to impossible right now.Turning back wasn't an option; what was once a dirt path is now sixty yards of flesh-rending fire. The air was growing increasingly thin as well, and if the fire did not immolate the students of the college, it would suffocate them like a noose.

But the bandits weren't completely gone. Ever pragmatic, the two "duelists" went to the other side of the bridge, where they were safely away from the blazing wild fire. And the caravan indeed did go onto the bridge, but that only served to make the bandits all the more intimidating. Mainly because they were about to cut the ropes to the bridge, and plummet the entire caravan into the river below. "Ya know, I heard there be some fools who'd fight us, but you lot at a cut above the rest trying to kill yourselves first! Ah, but I got nothing but pity for ya. Now than, to business eh? Give us yer wagon and we won't let yer plummet to yer death below. That River is only ten feet deep, but with rapid waters and sharp rocks! It's not going to save you, but we'll be fine picking through your remains if we gots to. So what'll it be? The wagon, or a watery grave?" The bandits were already half-way through cutting the rope. Expecting someone to try to pull a fast one and kill them both, they would cut the rope upon death, and condemn the caravan to a fall anyways. Also, the other side of the bridge would soon catch on fire. The bridge itself is old and but sturdy, but it would only take a few minutes for the fire to also chew through the ropes on the other side, which would also cause the bridge to fall into the river below.

"I understand it is likely a trap, but we should not - Alaira, no!" Ssarak shouted as soon as he saw what she was doing, but it was too late. With a bolt of lightning, she ignited a flame that spread quickly through the dry grasses, ending immediately any chance of talking their way through. She wanted to flush out any bandits hiding for an ambush, but the flames revealed none. Instead, it frightened the horses and forced them onto the bridge. The flames quickly engulfed the area behind them, not to mention the smoke that was filling the air and beginning to restrict their breathing. Using his wings, Ssarak did his best to keep the smoke away from himself and his allies, but they still had even more pressing concerns. The smoke wasn't as bad the closer they drew to the far side of the bridge, but the bandits were still set on taking their caravan.

The pair of duelists had their knives firmly on the ropes supporting the bridge, and Ssarak could see no way to stop them from finishing off the ropes if they were intent on severing them. The thought entered his mind to use his magic to make them think they were stationary while they continued to advance, but he was not confident he would be able to sustain such an illusion. Ssarak could fly, so his own life wouldn't be in danger if the bridge fell, but the others could not, and he could only realistically save one of them before impact. However, at the moment, he saw no compelling reason that they could not just agree to hand over the wagon, then kill them anyway once they were safely on land.

"Perhaps we should agree to their demand, then kill them once we are off the bridge?" Ssarak suggested in a telepathic message to all of his allies except Alaira, due to her weakness to psychomancy.

Alaira Taenn

Alaira laughed as the flames went up. Even if there weren't any bandits in there, one thing was clear; she loved fire. She affixed her mace to her belt loop as she took stock of the increasingly bleak situation. Everything was on fire, she doubted that all of the caravan would survive (Who cares? not like there was anything important in those fucking wagons. Just some food and shit), and the bastards were gonna cut the rope. However, she had succeeded in creating the mother of all distractions. She pat Ssarak on the shoulder as she moved through the smoke, towards the water. "Make sure they don't see me..." She said as she reached the bank, leaping over with her Aeromancy. Now she was quiet, very quiet. She wasn't wearing her clanking armor and the whole place was on fire so they likely wouldn't notice her cross below the bridge, especially not with Ssarak helping her.

She crept up behind them, her time spent hunting made her quite stealthy when she wanted to be. Did she like it? no, she found it unfair, but they weren't exactly being fair themselves. Using all her strength, she grabbed them, pulling them back as hard as she could as she whipped around, throwing them to the ground as she readied her mace. "Here's a different plan! You fight me like men or die like cowards!" She shouted.

Aramir

Her redundant check of her equipment was cut short by the arrival of their guide. She packed her gear and then walked or rode in the wagon, refusing to ride a horse. She did this for two reasons. One, she didn’t know how to ride a horse. Two, there was no way that she was going to get on something that big (She, after all, only came to the horses’ shin. Barely.) and try to make it go in the direction she wanted it to. She had all too vivid images of the horse flinging her off with a shake of its head, or a buck, or something, and then she’d go flying through the air and crash into the ground. No, she was perfectly fine walking, thank you very much. Though, she mildly regretted that decision when they had to travel past Tyrael’s little warning to any more attacks on the College. Where those who had horses could merely trot a good distance up wind and away from it all, she was forced to stay behind and put up with it. Still, compared to most of her past hunting trips, this one was rather pleasant. No biting winds, no cold, no local wildlife that wanted to eat her that blended in perfectly with the background, all in all, things were quite nice.

When they finally stopped, Aramir sat down on the ground, a little separate from most of the group. A familiar uneasiness was growing in her, as she realized that they were in mostly complete and utter silence, broken only by their guide talking, and the occasional quiet noise from the horses. As Eural described the Roc and its strength and weaknesses, she listened intently, feeling herself relax. This was familiar territory. This she could understand and work with. Thus, with a small note of relief in her voice, she asked her own questions. “How good is its hearing? How smart is it? Could it, for example, hear a small sound we might make approaching? Or see the ballista being aimed at it and recognize it immediately as a weapon and a threat? I assume we’re going to approach it during twilight or night time if we find it at its nest. After all, it’s better to not be seen by the angry bird that could kill us in a heartbeat.” She paused for a moment, considering anything else that may be of use to know. “Is there a chance that there might be more than one Roc at the nest? Do they typically nest in pairs?”