Alaira Taenn

It was around the time Ssarak suggested heading to their rooms when Alaira burst in. Rubbing her head, she slowly made her way to the bar. Occasionally, she needed to shove a patron aside, but eventually she had arrived. One might be worried about somehow initiating a bar brawl, but this was a fairly mellow village with a fairly mellow tavern, so the most she would get is dirty looks or insults. Of course, it also helped that she was taller than most patrons seated. She reached into her purse, slapping a coin or three on the surface. "One pint of mead. I could use something sweet..." She said, leaning into her hand as she awaited her drink. She wasn't after anything particularly strong, she just needed something that tasted good...

She had recovered extremely quickly, thanks to a combination of expert medical care and her own endurance. The poor guy was a little surprised that a specimen of such sound constitution was so on the brink of death. Of course, he had no real way of knowing of her nerve damage... In any event, a few concoctions and she was awake again, though she'd need to keep sipping on this other concoction she'd been given, if she wanted to cast anything...

Roc Mission

The creature came at him and Arcadius dove for a rather soft and comfortable looking patch of ground. Diving right down below its flight path. Did I just head-butt the butterfly? Though really, why should he be worrying about the butterfly right now? He was lucky to have a head or the ability to remain consciousness right now. That was definitely not the best thing to have ever happened to him. He didn't know why but this wasn't quite the welcome he had been expecting when the coffin had finally opened up, though it had been a bumpy ride. Maybe it was a sign.

Load of superstitious nonsense. As long as he still had a head, and a body. He'd find out who killed him, and find a way to get back. Even if he had to personally beat the living daylights off the so called "god" who had made his coffin into a prison. Then there was a whoosh, an enormous dose of pain a crack and he was flying. In the grips of the beast. Well, I still have a head. He watched helpless as the creature flew around and his body fell limp onto the ground. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to walk? Any idea?" At least the view is nice. Well, that last bit was true. At least until he ended up in a nest.

"If you'd just drop me off at your earliest convenience, preferably nice and softly that'd be grand."

The bird had attacked and the moment its beak gripped over the skull, she quickly realized her mistake. She had hoped for a juicy and easy bite size, yet what she got a bone completely voided of anything edible. Even worse was the fact it rolled and lodged in her beak, smacking her tongue repeatedly. She smacked it against the tree as she smacked her wings against the ground. The beak’s harden outside keep the skull from busting yet still made it rather painful. Dust and grass bent at her powerful, panicked motions. On moments, her body rose in short, little leaps and her head thrashed about to dislodge the nuisance within her jaws. Each time her wings darted out more of her body was becoming sky lifted. At about half way, the skull finally slipped from her maul and flipped it about into the wagon. Luckily, Arcadius’s little fall caused a rather unusual chain reaction.

His head had knocked into the wagon, filled with straw, with enough force short of cracking it, that the wagon shuddered. It inched farther into the downhill slope. It made one last creak before its wheels turned, sending the merchant’s meager cart rolling right at the likely now gathered group. If they didn’t move then likely someone would’ve been pinned between the cart and tree when it finally stopped.


Lyn

A spark of relief poured over the child when Mei seemed to note the brooch. Lyn eyed her while Mei reached across the table and picked it, examining it a moment then asked the Merchant its value. The man seemed to smile then rattled the price, a very steep one, immediately. For some time Lyn watched the haggling between Mei and the merchant, the price slowly dropped while each tried to gain the best price. Even if Mei wasn’t the best haggler, she had one thing on her side: time. With the cart nearly packed, the man’s time seemed to be running shorter the longer they were locked in negotiations until finally, he gave in. It seemed he preferred a slight loss then no profit at all. Rapidly he started to put away the rest of his wares when the moon started to rise. Stars twinkled causing Lyn to look up in awe, having never seen the change of day into night before now. Again her expression was filled by wonder and amazement to see the experience causing her to light up in enjoyment. She could’ve stood there all night counting the tiny, shiny fireflies in the sky.

It was then she felt her hand gently taken, Mei’s word encouraging her along. It broke her attention and brought it back to Mei, her eyes drifted to see the woman’s neck adorn with the small trinket. The brooch seemed to flicker with life and a spark all its own against Mei’s pale skin, giving her a slight haunted beauty, that Lyn felt rather happy with choosing the item herself. Even if she was still unsure the thing did exactly what the merchant had said. Making sure her dagger was in place, she let Mei lead her back to the inn while mindful to stay close enough that her arm wasn’t tugged. Rather hard when her eyes kept wandering over the town’s current scene. People started to shut their windows, lock doors, and disappear off the street during the late hours. This was something rather strange to Lyn as back at the college, she often would hear the steps of others roaming the hallways. The sleepless she nicknamed them, not realizing Mei was one of those restless students that would often lull her into sleep. She glimpsed down to see her bear, it’s arms had latched onto her belt then climbed up using her tunic to reach her shoulders, where it hung like an overstuffed bag. The thing refused to leave her side.

On the positive side, it helped to keep her warm. The night had dropped the temperature, and with her body being slightly cold blooded, Lyn had started to shivered slightly. Instinctively she huddled closer to Mei in a hope to steal some of the woman’s warmth to stop her teeth from chattering. Thankfully it was a short walk before they entered the inn warmed by a fire blazed within the oven, finding a nice bench sitting in the corner nearest it. Lyn didn’t hate the cold but rather disliked its effect on her. It was part of the reason she avoided the College’s classroom having to do with the Cryomancy students and often brought a coat, or two, when she did. The bear seemed to sense the cold pressing on her skin, its arms rubbed a bit, creating friction while her teeth had stopped chattering. Again, Mei spoke and Lyn perked up.

"Would you like some soup Lyn? I smell something really good, and I bet it's a chicken soup... With barley." Mei asked, her head tilted up to sniffle causing Lyn to mimic.

The girl’s eyes closed while she inhaled, a warm, savory scent filled her nose making her mouth salivate. Followed shortly by her rumbling middle. Lyn let out a small, amused giggle when her arms wrapped about her stomach, and nodded to answer. Lucilia’s snacks were delicious but it wasn’t as filling as a good, hot meal was. Then she recalled what Lucilia wanted her to do and that was to attempt to speak. She took a word she often heard some students as well as teachers used before. “T-t-t…”

The tee sound was the most she managed, looking rather annoyed at her fruitless and difficult word choice. She could manage the sounds, but for some reason putting them together and establishing words had escaped her understanding. Then again, so did a thing called numbers Lucilia had tried to show her once. At the mention of Lucilia in her mind, Lyn also recalled another thing, namely the purse Alaira had slammed down on the desk before she left her in the teacher’s care. Gingerly Lyn reached into her belt pouch and dig out the rather decent sum to show Mei. It won’t be too hard to tell whom it was at one time though Lyn, at least she hoped, Aunt Alaira won’t mind if she used it to gain both Mei and her something to eat. From what she witnessed, it didn’t seem like a bad idea. She sat it on the table top for Mei to determine what to do with it when Ssarak came up to stand beside the table, his figure easily stood out as he was the tallest around, and well armored Esyire (well the only one) around.

"I took Alaira to the local physician. He agrees that she has blood sickness, and he seemed familiar with the condition. He agreed to a reasonable price to care for her for the night; I believe she will recover by morning. After that...I believe we will need to exchange some words. For now, though, I am ready to help with the rune. I recall the basics of how to use one, though it may take a few hours to complete the healing, given the apparent extent of your injuries. Shall we use one of our rooms?" He asked, though Lyn was sure he didn’t realize they hadn’t eaten yet.

Unlike most children, Lyn had some surprising patience and merely sat there while her middle seemed rather irritated at being denied a meal. She clamped her arms tighter in hopes to silence, even when her teddy had still cling to her shoulder and seemed to glare back at the two, expecting them to fix the hunger problem some way. Any farther thoughts over food were scattered when a loud bang was heard, the night’s cold drifted inside along with Alaira causing Lyn to slightly shiver. Instinctively she pressed closer to Mei once more, leeching off the warmest thing next to her, and kept her teeth from chattering. Part of Lyn wished her mother was here. Her mother was easily over aware of her little gestures and clues, often wordlessly covering her into a blanket then held her closely. Slowly Lyn tilted back on her benched seat to see Alaira rubbing her head while she was shoving through the others crowded at the bar, partly expecting to see the Halfling flinch with each rough treatment, gaining dirty, soured looks at her behavior. Lyn continued to watch her Aunt pull up two piece gold, then order a mead pint from the grunting bar tender. The man shoved a mug under a tap, twisting the wooden handle until it was foaming at the time and slapped it down before he scooped up the payment.

“Enjoy…”He grunted gruffly and returned to his work, his stout body pulled about the bar.

The man hobbled past Ssarak, Mei, and Lyn until he reached the source of the aromas, an enormous cast iron pot cooked and shimmered over a fire. In the second opening was bread, sitting on an out jutted shelve, and several chickens roasting on a spit beside it. He pulled the bread out, stoking the fire a bit, and rested the bread flat upon the table beside a collection of wooden bowls. While he cut, some customers has started to gather which he rattled off the prices for the meals. The chicken varied, a small slice ranged from three gold pieces to eleven for a whole chicken. The cheaper and temporary filling soup bowls, without bread, were about four and an addition three silver with a bread chuck about half the size of the bowl.

Again, Lyn’s middle roared for something to fill it. She gave Mei and Ssarak a sheepish, innocent look, seemingly to apologize for her noisy need.

Annabeth Gulch

"Oh shit."

It was bad enough that the horses got spooked and ran off. Annabeth could deal with Auriel being a bit distracted with the guide. Annabeth could even still have peace of mind knowing that she and her group have been sent out to recover a possibly destroyed wagon against a giant bird who could likely kill them all with just the wind shear. Just not right now. Annabeth thought she'd be able to grab Samson in the forest, but the big beast proved to be more agile than Annabeth gave him credit. After nearly getting slammed into a tree and seeing a strange sight of a skeleton fleeing the roc, Annabeth knew she had to get out. She didn't even have her bow with her, just her axe, and she doubt she'd be able to do much damage against the roc with that. She tried to chase after Samson, but he was caught by Liam and his kits by the time Annabeth broke out of the forest.

Fortune was on her side as the roc flew away and didn't seem to notice her. Even better, it seemed to be going away. The group right now was way to unorganized to mount even a reasonable chance to flee. But than came a different problem. Annabeth didn't notice it at first since she had been focused on chasing Samson, but now there was a derelict wagon careening towards the group. She knew that none of the group really had a means to stop it. Best they could do was avoid it, but it was going so fast that by the time they'd notice someone was going to get run over. From Annabeth's angle, that someone might have been Aramir. While Annabeth wasn't the "Fastest" runner, she was deceptively much more muscular than what her admittedly androgynous clothing would imply. So with a burst of adrenaline she was able to run up next to the wagon and body check it, slamming her entire weight into the side of the wagon. She had intended to just try to change it's direction away from the group. But she had hi the wagon with such force that she actually broke it in half. Or at least, she slammed into the wagon with enough force to shatter one side of the wagon and snap the back axle, effectively causing the vehicle to grind to a halt.

Nothing but straw as far as Annabeth could see. She had managed to break the wagon about ten yards away from the others. Her shoulder was bruised but her armor did well enough to absorb the impact, leaving her no worse for ware than before. As her adrenaline died down her breath began to get heavy. She had a stern and serious look on her face however, as though she has had enough of the silliness so far. She went over to Samson, careful not to step on Liam. "Thanks for catching him. I'll take it from here." Annabeth went to Samson and carefully cooed him to keep him calm. He was certainly a large, strong horse; he could pull the wagon on his own, though they'll be a bit slower for it. They had no choice, since it was either that or no horse at all. Annabeth put Samson into a harness that wasn't chewed to bits, and than turned to the others. "The roc is on the move. I think it's time to pick a plan of action before another disaster strikes." Annabeth geared up once again and behind the balista. She armed it, loaded a bolt, and looked towards the others.

Satori

Satori had heard that they had received new students. Just a rumor, but she knew there was some truth in it. They haven't had many new applicants in a while, though unfortunately no Psychomancers. Perhaps it was for the better, as Satori, like many of the college's teachers, were swamped with their other duties. Since Satori took care of the animals at the college, she had to make sure that their cattle and their war horses were healthy and ready. She was working with Lucilia to arm the new guards with horsemen, but she was also working with Tyrael to bring beasts from the Ravine to be tamed at the college. They couldn't afford to be picky about where they get their help, and Satori only wished to do her part in protecting her home.

But right now Satori was on her break. She had finished writing a letter to some Eania ranchers to deliver a few stallions and boars (For meat). She could have gotten pork cheaper from the orc holds, however they haven't responded back to her letters in quite some time. She was just on a walk when she noticed that the guards were watching someone at the gate. A quick scan with her Psychomancy revealed the stranger beyond the gate, and then some. For starters, he was most certainly not a human. He was actually a Reven named Arkaeis Zraimat. Satori did not know much about them seeing that they kept themselves exclusively on the Midnight Islands, and they didn't seem very interested in interacting with the world at large. The only reason she even knew about their existence was because she had taken classes in World Geography, and some of the college has been out to the Midnight Islands at some point in the past. Even so, the Reven were rare enough that she doubt many people would know anything about them, or how to deal with them.

"Open the gates."

The guards did as Satori told them and soon the gates opened for Arkaeis. Satori stood on the opp site side with a polite smile on her face. "Welcome to the Twilight College. I am Satori. We have been expecting you. Come along, let us get you situated before one of our teachers decides to entertain himself with your time." Satori bowed her head and portioned for Arkaeis to follow her. "I trust that you found your journey here to be pleasant? The roads are dangerous now with new bandit activities and demon sightings."

Lucilia Riovas

Lucilia drained another cup of double-brewed coffee. The taste of the hot drink lingered on her tongue, and the pinch of energy helped her keep her focus on the task at hand; new student forms. Although she still needed to wait for Pylia and Pitch to finished their papers, Lucilia needed to write her own reports on them for future reference. And it was time like this that Lucilia continued to debate to herself about getting an intern. She rather not trust a golem or demon to help her, less she give Khan or Uicle a eye into her affairs, but she couldn't trust her vampires to handle the sensitive information she'd be dealing with. The same reason for why she doesn't hire students, but also because she doubt that there was any with the... Moral flexibility to handle the tasks she'd have for them. But this sort of thinking was only limiting her options, which ultimately prevented Lucilia from actually choosing someone to help her manage all the paper work. It was a repetitive cycle; Lucilia would get a wave of new work to deal with, she'd begrudgingly do it all, considers getting herself a helper, is too picky to find one, and than back to the beginning. With all these new students coming in, she'd hope that perhaps she would find the one who she could trust with this work.

As Lucilia was working, she received word from one of her ferns that another new student has arrived, and he's being brought in by Satori. "Oh my... I suppose I ought to get more of these files ready." Lucilia let out a tired breath and she had to go dig through old boxes for more student files. She only had two on hand which she already gave to Pitch and Pylia. She had a feeling more would be coming, so she was going to get a whole box and organize some extra flyers and pamphlets. She was also pondering taking a visit to Underhaven to some R&R. But alas, she didn't feel comfortable leaving behind work just to indulge in a drink. Lucilia made herself another cup of coffee and readied herself to meet the new student.

Arkaeis Zraimat
The College

The guards having no time to respond to his words, Arkaeis heard someone from the other end order the gates open. Raising an eyebrow briefly, he waited patiently till the door lay open before he at which point he saw the voice's owner. A woman it seemed, dressed modestly and with,,,pink hair. Odd, but not unbecoming, perhaps she was eccentric, he enjoyed eccentric people. With her introduction out of the way Arkaeis bowed his head respectfully, offering a pleased smile. "Thank you for the warm welcome madam, I am Arkaeis," he decided to leave out his last name, if anyone asked he would easily relent, but there was little reason for him to offer it up here. Few, if any, would know its relevance anyways.

Following the woman so as not to get lost in the unfamiliar location, the Reven glanced about, taking the scenery in and almost immediately beginning to memorize the layout of the College. While he observed the building, the woman started talking again, and he listened, using his peripheral vision to scope out the place. However, instead of filtering to his subconscious it was all engraved in his conscious memories for review when needed. "Yes it has been interesting to say the least. Having lived in an isolated village in the west most of my life made seeing the world rather jarring an experience. Though it has been very eye opening as well," he stated, smiling lightly in remembrance of his trip. His words were not complete lies, he had spent much of his time on Midnight island, mostly underground in one of the small villages. Other times he'd be assisting the rest of his family in their duties as Zraimat. Plus Midnight Island was in the west, so that was also truth--little did he know that lying to this woman was fruitless.

Glancing around, Arkaeis wondered if the College was always this busy...and cautious in regards to admittance that their gates would be closed especially if they'd been expecting new students. That brought something else to mind, how had this woman known he was a student and how had she been aware of his presence outside the gate. It was possible that someone had notified her, or that she had somehow sensed his presence, but if that were the case then either she must have been one of several types of magus. She could have been of the an Electromancer, a Pyromancer, or a Psychomancer--all of which he knew were capable of sensing people through various means.

However, to also know that he was a student without him saying a single word, especially since there had been no obvious indication of such. He did not recall Electromancers or Pyromancers being capable of telling whether or not someone was a stranger. They could only detect presence via heat signature of bioelectricity, as he recalled from his reading. However, she knew the guards had not recognized him, or they'd have let him in right away so he must have been a stranger to them--she could have deduced that much. Still he did not recall most people being that quick witted or intelligent. There were always exceptions and he was standing in one of Tiien's centers of knowledge, so it was more likely than not that she could have been one such exception.

So he'd consider all three possibilities. She was either a Psychomancer, or she had made some base assumptions about the nature of his visit inferred from the guards not recognizing him immediately and then her also not recognizing him. So she was either a Psychomancer, or a very insightful human, either of which could be a good or bad thing depending on her disposition. At the moment she seemed nice enough, but if she was either of the things he'd figured her to be then it was likely that she kept any of the negatives of her personality to herself when interacting with new students. It was polite, professional, and would add a surprise factor if she turned out later to be a terribly difficult individual to deal with.

Sighing mentally, Arkaeis noted that if she were a Psychomancer she was likely listening into his thoughts that very moment and knew everything he'd just been thinking. It didn't really matter in the end, he figured. Perhaps she could teach him wards, he'd been curious about those for awhile, but had not had any time to learn how to create them, nor had he the resources--both unfortunate truths. Now of course he could amend such, so he decided to do a little experiment.

"What is your job here, madam Satori? I hope I am not interrupting a class, or important job of some kind." While he spoke the only thoughts that passed through his mind were mere feelings of curiosity and worry. Oddly, despite his prior thought process, the feelings were entirely honest and there would be no way of detecting anything false about them. Even if she'd been detecting his thoughts prior she had no way of knowing what his experiment actually was, as he had not thought about them, and still wasn't.

It would be interesting to see her response, but he wasn't thinking that--that bit was simply the truth. Who was to say what'd happen now, after all, the wheels had begun turning and they could hardly be stopped now. Things were about to get intriguing, that was for sure.

Mar

At the boy's command, the dead turned from simple corpses into undead within moments. Men, women and children, the villagers, had risen onto their feet to attack the group. Their gaunt faces and bodies in the many stages of decomposition while they shambled toward them, the fresher ones far quicker as they hadn’t much time to rot completely. Reflexively Mar's shoulder pulled her scythe back then lashed it forward. Several undead’s torsos were rendered in half. Their legs still walked yet nothing above the waist seemed be much of a threat, their ribcages left behind to crawl the distance. Her tail pushed her toward them, edging closer to the gathering threat while she left Grey and Althalus took care of the door. It was thankful Aramir had accompanied her on at least one hunting trip or else she would never have known humans and other bipeds didn't read body language alone. Unlike Naga, or Tyrael, they needed words to establish when and where to strike, something Mar found rather annoying. It was only in the last few hunts had Althalus began to understand her slight clues in order to act accordingly.

"Both of you try to move back towards the door and stay behind me." Mar stated soundly.

She needed a wide sweeping area for her scythe, something she wouldn’t risk when she didn’t know their position, as she readied for another swing once they moved. Last thing which would help was if she cut down her allies among the enemy. Unlike the others, even if the undead got within her close range, she still had a tail to defend against which meant she could coil about and crush them. Though the notion was much more effective if they were able to die. However all she could was cut them into smaller pieces and that would, at some point, make things harder. It was shortly after she heard the crashing of glass, her eyes shifted to Althalus’s casual reply at Grey, his dagger unsheathe and ready, willing to shed the boy’s blood. Though she wondered a bit if the man was too late in that aspect while she recalled the sight at the window, right before the boy vanished.

Her eyes flickered to the man, the father of her child, the pain still light deep inside as the fact he didn’t seem disturbed by the task had slightly upset Mar inside. How many times had he done this and had it became as easy as breathing to him? She felt her body tense up at the observation which poured into her mind, mostly at the fact he didn’t seemed to trust her enough to admit it.

Would Althalus be so willing if it was Lyn in the boy’s place? The suddenness of the unprovoked question sent her body into an ice cold sensation, her mind distracted when one of the undead lunched at her past her readied sweep. It was one of the Yarsomere soldiers naturally. His blade swiped at her torso, her eyes barely saw the motion, while Mar jerked back. Red was easily painted across her bare waist and her body flinched with fresh pain. The fire licked up her wound, spreading its small fire into her skin where it settled and festered into a dull lull. Thankfully it was a shallow wound. Her tail reacted on pure instinct and lashed out, its tip slammed into the corpse’s chest sending him back a few feet. The putrid shambling dead lowered himself to three, his hand and legs bent to retain his balance while dirt scattered in his brace. His blade slickened with her blood.

Mar let out a warning hiss that shortly died on her lips. Her eyes widened, skin paled like before, when she turned her head to see her nightmare face her. Just a few feet and closing fast, the blood, hollowed out shell of the little girl also stood upright. Her fingers lowered for a crop scythe, much shorter then Mar’s, and then looked at the Naga. Her mind was numb. Despite her attempts to echo Althalus’s earlier reason, the child appeared so much like Lyn, even when the bloodstained tunic boring the image of her death. The girl's throat had been slit. The blood crusted and browned from the wide gash, running from ear to ear, before the child’s small body darted at Mar with weapon raised in her small hand.

Mar found herself frozen in place.

-rips out-

Ssarak Dyreackthanose

---

Ssarak did not notice Lyn's cues to her hunger until he finished his question to Meirin and he happened to hear her thoughts. He was hungry himself, so he could imagine that it would be the same for the little girl.

"Oh, of course, we must not forget about you, Lyn. With all you have been through, i imagine you are starved." He said before turning his head to Meirin. "I am going to take a few moments to get Lyn a meal, and perhaps one for myself. Just head to a room when you are ready to use the room and I will meet you there."

As Ssarak carefully took Lyn's hand, removing his gauntlets first and placing them into his bag so that she would not have to grab onto steel. Being mindful of the other patrons, he walked over closer to the fire so that she could get a better look at what was cooking. No doubt it was food for other patrons, but it would give an idea of what the innkeeper had for sale. "What is it that you are used to eating, Lyn?" He asked.

Lyn

Lyn smiled, slightly relieved someone had noticed her problem, and nodded in agreement to show her understanding. Again, her middle growled like some fierce beast and dug deeper, making her wiggle in place where she sat. She watched eagerly as Ssarak finished his conversation with Mei then paced around the table to where she was located. Not waiting for long, Lyn swung her legs about the wooden bench and hop off just when the Esyire approached. When her soles hit the hard floor she raised her hand to take Ssarak’s, no longer covered by steel gauntlet, and tightly squeezed it while he lead the way.

Her hunger seemed to grow with their distance closing in. Thicker the smells became until it seemed to wash over her in a pleasant wave and her eyes lit up in enjoyment. The warmth from the fire stroked over her skin, chasing any remaining cold from her easily, letting her eyes wander. There was little fear about being separated since her hand was secured by Ssarak. Bodies crowded about the man with the soup pot, his ladle dipped in and scooped a portion into a wooden bowl for each request. He only paused when it came to cutting into the chickens still roasting on the fire where they were prevented from cooling. Their flesh had slightly blackened and crisp, tickled by the wafting heat and dripped into the fire’s very core where they sizzled into nothing.

After he had maneuvered her past the other rustling patrons, he then asked her what she would like. Inattentively she flicked out her narrow, snake like tongue to absorb the scents in the same fashion as she inwardly debated on what she wanted. Mei had mentioned something about barley soup and it had made her curious, but that wasn’t what Ssarak had asked.

Her finger pointed at the chicken showing him she usually ate meat. Despite the truth, her eyes drifted back to the scents coming from the pot and bread, a slight desire lingering in her face. It seemed like it might be good. Namely since Mei had seemed to like it. Though she hadn’t counted on the fact that the broth might not last long within her system (fact stated by Mar) and that meant she would be hungry again a few hours later. For some odd reason meat, either raw or cooked, lasted longer in her system and seemed to be an inherited trait from her mother. Another thought was it was because she was growing at an extreme rate.

‘I eat meat…but…’ Lyn hadn’t pried her eyes away from the pot still. Part of her wished her mother was here since she would know what to do and how to handle it, namely ensuring none of the food went to waste.

Ssarak Dyreackthanose

---

Ssarak listened and picked up on Lyn's thoughts. It made sense that she would eat meat, given who her mother was, but he had wanted to be sure. He was aware that Naga ate meat pretty much exclusively, but he did not know if it was just a strong preference, as with Esyire, or a nutritional requirement. There were some beings who could eat only meat and would become sick, and could even die, if they ate some types of plants. It was easy to tell that she wanted to try the soup, but since he did not know if that was the case with Lyn, he decided to air on the side of caution.

"If you normally eat meat, then we should stick with that for now. Some meat-eating creatures become sick if they eat anything but meat. I do not know if that is true for you, but let's be safe. When we return you to your mother, I can help you ask her for different kinds of foods. Does that sound good?" Ssarak asked, though it was more of a rhetorical question, as he had already made the decision on what to order. When the innkeeper came around to him, he ordered enough chicken for both himself and Lyn. He was tempted to order another item for himself, but he elected not to so that he did not make Lyn feel jealous by tempting her with something else she might want.

Once the order was placed, Ssarak looked down to Lyn once more. "It should not be too long before our chicken is ready. Come, let's go over to Alaira while we wait." He said. Ssarak knew that Alaira had spent more time than most around Lyn since her birth, so Lyn was no doubt quite familiar with her, and therefore comfortable around her. Given Alaira's personality, he found it strange that she seemed to care so much about Lyn, but he had no doubt that her compassion was genuine. No matter how reckless she was, Ssarak had no doubt that Alaira would not willingly put Lyn into harm's way. As Ssarak walked up to Alaira with Lyn, he gave her a serious expression, but he had no intention to have the inevitable argument with her just yet. There was no reason to have Lyn around for that. "Alaira." He said simply to grab her attention. "I would like to have a...conversation with you soon, but for now, I need to help Meirin deal with her injuries. Once we finish our meals, could you watch after Lyn? I do not want to leave her alone in this place."

Alaira Taenn

Alaira took the tankard almost as quickly as it had been slammed down. She couldn't help but smile, just a little bit. Few things could equal the simple pleasure of a good drink. She took a swig, and she wasn't disappointed. It wasn't the best mead she had ever had, but it was up there... She'd give the guy a tip if she had any money to spare. Mysteriously, her purse had become lighter... In any event, this had been relaxing, but she couldn't shake a sense of immense dread.

That made itself apparent when Ssarak had approached. It was difficult with that snout of his, but she could tell he wasn't happy. She simply stared as he spoke, her face grim. "Injuries? I had a rune delivered. She should be fine." She said, her voice neutral. Could Lyn have lost it? No, not likely. They were probably too busy being all indecisive about it. Even if it had been a disaster, at least she actually did something rather than sit around talking about it. She looked down at Lyn... She was alright... She smiled softly and held her arms open, inviting the girl to her lap. She could have said something, but with the hybrid child words didn't seem to matter all that much.

Ssarak Dyreackthanose

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Ssarak let go of Lyn's hand so she could go to Alaira. If there was one thing that he could trust, it was that she would keep her safe. "She will be fine, it will just take a few hours for the rune to heal it.." He commented. Although nothing about his expression changed, he was almost angry at how dismissive Alaira seemed to be about her actions before. She had very nearly gotten everyone in the wagon, including Lyn, killed, but that did not seem to register in her mind. It was clear that they were going to have to open her eyes to that fact soon, but now was not the time for that conversation. Instead, he simply remained silent and waited for his chicken to finish cooking. He had already paid the innkeeper, so once it was ready, he took Lyn's portion and placed it down in front of her. The scent of the meat was all the more tantalizing now that it was actually theirs to consume, so he had a feeling Lyn would not care that it was not the soup once she started eating. "Here you go Lyn. If you want any more, be sure to let Alaira here know that you are still hungry. She might not be able to read your thoughts as I can, but I am sure she will understand." He said, giving a nod to Alaira before returning to the table with Meirin.

Ssarak wished he could take a seat, but he still didn't trust the chairs to hold him. Regardless, it did not bother him to eat while standing, and the size of his mouth allowed him to eat his meal rather quickly. It likely would not be enough to make him feel satisfied after such an exhausting day, but he needed to budget carefully for this journey. They had lost some time due to the attack at the bridge, and the addition of Lyn was going to increase their food expense if taking her back to the college was not an option. "How are you feeling? Are you ready to use the rune now?" Ssarak asked.

Pitch scanned his new room, checking every single inch of the place. It was nice, it had an odd feeling to it. Well, as odd as a madman could say it was. There was a large bed, covered in a soft red fabric, and sat atop a stone frame. On the head frame, it had something engraved in it, but Pitch couldn't tell what it was. Beside the bed, there was an ornate wooden table, covered in interesting curves and lines. There was a lantern set on the table, the ember flickering wildly.

Pitch sat on the bed sideways, his feet resting on the table, dangerously close to the flames of the lantern. He sat there a while, his eyes closed, comprehending what had happened and how he'd gotten here. His foot twitched, knocking the lantern over and extinguishing the flames. The only light coming from the room came from the window, which was, unfortunately, small and directly above his bed.

The light from the lantern dispersed, he still lay on the bed until he fell asleep. He awoke later the same day in complete darkness. He jumped up, groping at the walls until he found the window. The sun was not setting, but rising. For a moment, he thought that it was the middle of the night. He let out a sigh of relief and plopped back onto his bed, pulling the table closer. He reached underneath his bed, grabbing some parchment and a quill that he had stored down there. He set them both on the table, and began to write. He thought it would be a good idea to keep a journal. He picked up the lantern and lit it once more, the light dancing in the darkness.

Entry One, Day One

Today was not as easy as I expected, but it went well. I went through a quick test of my skill, something with demons and such. Afterwards, I spoke Lucilia. I assume she handles most new students. I finally got my room and had a chance to rest. It is funny, how my journey took me here, spending so much time and succesfully making it alive and well. Thus far it has gone fairly smoothly. I hope that it will stay like that, but I get the odd feeling that it won't.

Pitch Black

He glanced at it once, before lifting up a pillow and sliding it beneath it. Pitch stared into the lantern's flames as his shadow flickered on the wall beside him. The sun rose, but he closed his eyes anyway and returned to sleep.

Lyn

Lyn looked at Ssarak and nodded, slowly and slightly sad, while she watched him order one of the birds over the roast. Her eyes fought hard not to linger toward the soup and its tempting aroma. It was very hard as her desire to try it was strong. She gave a small smile when he spoke to her, her face turned up in a pleased expression while her head tilted to the side in curiosity. She felt him gently lead her toward Alaira and immediately her pace shifted, her arm pulled taunt in her excitement as she tried to pull the larger Esyire along with her to the bar. Her desire overwhelm her usual observant nature, Lyn missed the look exchanged between the two, Ssarak requesting her Aunt to watch her. While the two talk, Lyn stood there shifting foot to foot with her free hand on one of the empty stools, toying with it and unable to contain her enjoyment. Her other was still fixed within the callous but gentle hands of Ssarak during her impatience for the conversation to be over.

A small, childish giggle escaped Lyn’s lips when Alaira looked at her. Shortly, she was pleased to realize, the Esyire had released her into her Aunt’s care. Without farther mention or gesture other than wide-open arms inviting her, she darted about the stool she was standing at and scrambled into the halfling’s lap eagerly. The child’s arms pushed her up in well-practiced movements as she felt strong hands aid her up the rest of the way until she was situated in a sitting position. It was obvious this was a favorite spot of hers. One she loved to sit on often and made herself rather comfortable, her head now able to peer over the table thanks to the boost where she could easily eat what was set in front of her.

Lyn spotted the chicken’s arrival. Her eyes stood fixed to the source, her middle growing more impatient by the moment while she saw her portion being sliced away then placed in front of her. She needed no other words in order to dig in. She merely made a quick nod to Ssarak’s words and started to consume the chicken in her usual fashion, with surprising haste and delight. However the flesh was still hot and when her fingers tried to tear it into small chunks, they hurt her fingers slightly forcing her to pop them into her mouth. Naturally she looked to Alaira alongside the teddy bear who also turned its head, still on her shoulder, for some help. Or to cool it off a bit at least.

Ssarak & Meirin Collab

Meirin looked over to Ssarak as he came back to help her with the runes. Though she could move her arms a bit more now, she was thankful that someone else could help her use the strange rocks. She certainly didn't know how to use them beyond what seemed immediately obvious. "I'm feeling better, though some soup and a bed would be nice. Come, let's see what sort of magic this rune can do." Meirin handed Ssarak the rune-etched rock and allowed Ssarak to lead her to the rooms. She was certain that no one would want to get in his way, allowing them to move through the partially packed tavern more easidly.

Ssarak took the lead to one of the rooms they had purchased for the night. Despite the crowd, he proceeded virtually unobstructed, something which was common for him whenever he was in a city in Human lands. As far as he knew, the rooms were essentially identical, so it did not matter which he chose. The room itself was fairly mundane, with simple furniture too small for himself, but at least the price matched what they recieved.

As he waited for Meirin to take a seat, he looked over the etchings on the rune. While he was by no means an expert on runes, he did at least know how to use one. Given that his magic could never actually change anything about the physical world, knowing his way around such tools was useful, in particular with vitamancy runes. "I have not used a rune to heal a serious injury before, but it is the rune that will be doing most of the work, so it should be no different from normal. Where exactly is it that you are hurt most severely?"

Meirin shruged her shoulds experimentally. While it did not "Hurt" per say, they certainly were stiff and sore now. It was a good place to start. "Around my shoulders and collarbone." Meirin touched one side of her shoulder and than dragged her finger across her chest to the other shoulder. Around that general area was where the most pain was at. "I used the rune a little bit while I was taking care of Lyn. I'm not sure if I used it correctly, but when I did my arms began to hurt less." Meirin figured she should let Ssarak know this. No harm in not telling him.

Ssarak gave a nod. "I see. Runes are not too complicated to use. All I need to do is press the inscription to your skin, and the magic within will do the work." He explained, pausing a moment as he looked around the room for somewhere to sit. There were a few chairs, and against his better judgement, he decided to attempt to use one. He pulled it up in front of Meirin, then immediately knocked it over with his tail when he tried to sit down. Letting out a sigh, he picked it back up, then much more carefully attempted to sit. It creaked under his weight, but at least seemed to be holding up, even if it was almost comically small for him.

"I am almost expecting that I will wake up tomorrow with my bed cracked in half." Ssarak commented with a chuckle, making sure to shift the rune around so that the inscription faced away from him.

Meirin smiled at Ssarak's comment about his bed. It would be quite a sight to see him sleeping on the ruined remains of the small wooden-framed beds. Aside from that thought she didn't have anything else to say as Ssarak applied to rune onto her hurting areas. She blushed just a little as she could feel Ssarak's hands graxe across her chest. She knew that it was for medical reasons, but he was still very close to her.

At first Meirin did not feel any different, but when the Rune started to glow she could feel the soreness in her shoulders fade away. It was almost as if time was reversing to a point were her body was not so broken, but even if the rune only restored her to her normal function, it was better than dislocated joints. After a few minutes Meirin could feel no more pain in her arms. "I think it worked!" Meirin began to move her arms and threw out a couple of hand technquies in the air in front of her. No pain or soreness, no feeling that her arms were getting ripped out of socket. Stepping out of the chair Meirin preformed a weaving motion, one that would restore her body's health just a little. It's not that she did not beleive that the rune worked, but it was better to be safe than sorry. After she finished her movement, she could feel her body back at full strength.

Turning to Ssarak Meirin had a smile on her face. "It worked! The rune worked! I... I don't feel any more pain. Wow, it's a good thing Alaira had those." At the mention of her name, Meirin's mood became dour. There was still the matter of Alaira, and Lyn. Contempltating their next actions, Meirin turned to Ssarak. "Ssarak, you know we can't take Lyn. The Caravan master won't allow it. And even with Lyn along, I'm sure even you know how much of a liability Alaira will be."

"If need be, I do not doubt that we could convince the caravan master to allow Lyn to come." Ssarak commented. "Even if he did not agree, we are the ones protecting him, and if most of his guards are gone, there is no way he can complete the journey. Of course, I would much prefer to return Lyn to the college for her own safety. Unfortunately, the bridge was destroyed behind us..." He said, pausing a moment to lean one shoulder towards her and wrap one wing around in front of him, revealing several tears in the membane. "...and I am not in a condition to fly her back."

As Meirin spoke of Alaira, she noticed Ssarak's own injuries. She had completely forgotten about it, but Ssarak did have to use his own body to cushion Meirin's decent down the river. She could see painful looking tears in his wing's webbing. Forgetting about Alaira for a moment, Meirin extended her hand out to Ssarak. "Let me use that Rune for you now. It won't be good for you to keep those injuries for too long."

Ssarak shook his head lightly. "I would rather not overuse the rune. They can burn out and break if you try to use them too much at once. Given the nature of our mission, it would be best to make sure the rune is available for emergencies. Do not worry, the membranes of my wings scarcely feel pain, and they have been hurt more severely before. Do you remember when I described the sport I liked to play back in my homeland? Funny enough, it was actually that which prepared me to take that fall earlier. It is a sport which teaches one to crash with...grace." He said with a reassuring smile.

Meirin didn't quite share Ssarak's smile. While she knew he was simply trying to releive Meirin of her worry, she didn't buy it. So instead she began to repeat her previous Weaving motions but with slight alterations. Once she finished her motions she laid her hands on the tears on Ssarak's wings. It wasn't quite as effective as the runes, but Meirin started to heal Ssarak's injuries. As she healed Ssarak Meirin spoke about Lyn and Alaira again.

"It isn't just because of what the caravan master said. I'm worried for Lyn's safety, and to be frank, I don't quite trust Alaira. You saw how quick she was to endanger our lives back at the bridge. Even if we brought Lyn along, I'm sure it'll only make Alaira even more hasty than usual. I think... It'll be best if Alaira took Lyn back to the college. Even if the caravan master is at our mercy, we can't delay him for too long simply to return Lyn back at the college. I know it sounds cruel, but if we send Alaira and Lyn back to the college, you, Darius, and I can still protect the caravan and reach Hysteria before too long. And remember, Lucilia doesn't just want the caravan to arrive to Hysteria safely. We need to get any information we can from the attacks. Inevtiably, we'll have to confront some demons and figure out where they're coming from, and I don't want Lyn to be around when we have to do that."

Even though the pain of his injuries had subsided long ago, there was still something soothing about them being healed. He could feel the membranes slowly being mended together, which caused him to let out a deep, relaxed breath. Still, the matter Meirin was speaking about was concerning, and for the most part, he agreed with her. "I do not believe you are wrong. I want Lyn to be as safe as possible, and ideally, that would be back at the college. I do not know how she managed to sneak onboard the wagon; I will need to remember to ask her when next I see her. Regardless, I would like to be able to get her back to safety, and Alaira is the weakest among us at the moment, but...can we be sure she would be able to get her back safely at all? Even if we could get her to agree, Alaira is not at her strongest at the moment. With the bridge down, I do not know how far the nearest crossing is, and there may yet be dangers on the return trip. At least one of those bandits escaped, and there may yet be more from different groups. If Alaira tried to return alone with Lyn, both of them might be killed by those opportunists. It is...difficult to say what the safest option for Lyn would actually be."

Meirin continued to try to heal Ssarak, refreshing her weaving magic when needed. She was quiet even after Ssarak had finished speaking. Part of her demanded that they do the logical, efficient thing and have Alaira send Lyn back, even at the risks of bandits. Alaira may be in a weakened state, but surely she would consider fighting more inteligently when she has to protect someone, especially someone like Lyn. But that need to protect the girl was also what nagged Meirin. Though they would face dangers, Lyn would be better protected with the combined efforts of Meirin, Ssarak, Darius, and Alaira, than just Alaira alone. Meirin knew how dangerous the roads could get, and even back when she lived at the monestary the martial artists would never escort caravans alone. There was as much power in numbers as there were in induvidual skills. Meirin wanted Lyn to be safe. She just wasn't sure if it would be safer at the college, or with the group.

Beginning to tire out, Meirin stopped the healing. Most of Ssarak's injuries were healed, though there were still notable cuts that hopefully could get restored later. Even though Meirin wasn't in pain, now she was simply winded. As she rested on her bed Meirin thought about what they should do with Lyn. Djarkel was too dangerous right now for travelers, and like it or not, Lyn wouldn't head back to the college without running into some sort of trouble. Unless someone at the college could come pick her up shortly, there wasn't much else they could do. "Then.... Then Lyn will stay with us. While I have no doubts we will run into danger, with our combined efforts I'm certain that we can handle them. It will be too much of a risk to allow Alaira to handle the possibility of being attacked by bandits alone, even for all her bravado."

Standing up Meirin headed out the door, but before she left she looked at Ssarak. "This is my choice. I'll take the responsabilities with it. We can take Lyn along with us to Hysteria, and once the mission is complete we can all return home. If you can, could you go speak to the caravan master? I... I want to have a word with the others about this decision." In truth, Meirin was going to go speak to Alaira. In Meirin's mind, she had already made up her thoughts about bringing Lyn along. But Meirin wanted to set Alaira strait. She knew how skilled Alaira was in a fight, but Meirin hated her uncaring attitude towards danger. Even with Lyn as their protectorate, Meirin was going to make it clear to Alaira how she felt.

Ssarak stood up immediately and walked out after Meirin. Overall, the situation was stressful, He wanted nothing more than to take Lyn back to the safety of the college, but they had no real way to do that safely. He appreciated that she was willing to take on all of the responsibility herself, but he was anot about to let her shift all of the blame on herself should something go wrong. Before she could find Alaira, he caught up to her and stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Since they were now out of the privacy of the room, Ssarak spoke with a telepathic message, instead of aloud. "Meirin, you are not alone in this. I can help to make the decisions, and take the blame. No matter what happens, you do not have to tackle it alone. Before you...converse with Alaira, allow me to take Lyn out of earshot. I can take her with me to talk to the caravan master. For a young girl such as her, we need not expose her to such a heated argument, especially one that could potentially involve her."

Feeling Ssarak's presence in her mind Meirin stopped to give him clearer thoughts. She had, initially, began to formulate her arguement against Alaira, but she had failed to consider Lyn. Frankly, Meirin wasn't sure if Lyn knew anything they were saying, and simply read their emotions and bady language like her mother does. Ssarak also mentioned that he would help alivate the burden of Lyn's safety from Meirin's shoulders, but somehow this only made her more tense. "I know... I know, but... Lyn needs to know the dangers we're about to head into. This isn't like getting rid of rats in the basement. People will die out there. We will have to kill them. That's something that Lyn needs to know, and Alaira needs to be aware that she, Lyn, and any of us could be one of those people who die out there. I'm not really one for lying Ssarak, and I certainly can't go easy on either of them. This isn't a game."

The words in Meirin's mind would never leave her mouth, but they were her conscience thoughts on the matter. She was about to say something else when she absentmindedly continued thinking, despite Ssarak reading into her thoughts. "More importantly, Alaira needs to know just how stupid she is. Her bravado will get her killed, if I don't kill her first. Endangering our lives like that, what was she hoping to get out of it? Cheap thrills at our expanse? We're not friends. I'm not going to tolerate her selfishness, not even if Lyn is there." Meirin's eyes widen when she remembered that Ssarak was still listening into her thoughts. Anger was swelling up in Meirin, and she knew that she needed to control it, but now that she was at full strength she had the need to release her tension.

To the outside, their "conversation" might have appeared rather strange, as they were simply standing in the middle of the inn, staring at one another. Nevertheless, Ssarak could feel the anger in her thoughts, and indeed, he understood it fully. Alaira's recklessness had nearly killed several, if not all of them, and he agreed that it could not be ignored. "I agree completely that she needs to be spoken to, but please, let me handle Lyn. Explaining mortal danger to a young child...it is something I have had to do before, with my own children. They had to know that their father might never return. Lyn's mind is more mature than her age would suggest, and I can read her thoughts and communicate more effectively with her. Let me come with you to Alaira, then take Lyn away before you confront her." He offered with a sympathetic expression.

She couldn't look Ssarak in the eyes. She tried to seal her mind away, but without wards it wouldn't work on someone like Ssarak. Meirin didn't really have much coherant thoughts, but the feeling of anger and guilt swirled in her mind. She wants to punish Alaira and save Lyn. She needed to calm herself down, so Meirin took a deep breath. For a short moment, her mind truly was cleared of any thoughts. When she started thinking again, she looked up to Ssarak with a small smile on her lips. "Okay... Okay. I'll... I'll speak to Alaira, while you take care of Lyn. I'll do my best not to start a fight."

Ssarak returned Meirin's smile and patted her shoulder. "Thank you. I will take her to speak with the caravan guard, as well as explain to her what we are stepping into. After Lyn is out of earshot of Alaira though...say anything you like. I just wish I could join you."

With their plan set, the pair found Alaira once more among the crowd. It had been a while since they left to heal Meirin's wounds, so there had been plenty of time for them all to finish their meals. Ssarak made sure to give no hint to Alaira that he was cross with her. Instead, he simply gave her a nod. "Alaira." He said, before shifting his sight to Lyn. "I believe I am going to go speak to the caravan master regarding Lyn joining us. I would like your help, Lyn." He began, giving a warm smile and kneeling down closer to her. "I believe he was angry and stressed earlier, but if he can see you for himself, I think he will start to warm up to you. What do you think, can you help me?"

As Ssarak went to deal with Lyn, Meirin stepped before Alaira. "Alaira, we need to talk about what you did at the bridge today."

Lyn

After Alaira had cooled her food, slightly, Lyn had started to dig into the chicken.

Her little fingers easily tore into the meat and skin, tearing it into smaller chunks before she popped it into her mouth where the flavor seemed to explode. Her mouth corners turned upwards in a little smile as she savored the taste. It was just right. She tried to remember her manners, careful not to smack her lips in greedy delight, but some things were often over looked in the act of pleasure when it came to filling her middle. Not realizing it, Lyn subconsciously licked her fingers clean with each bite. Her little teeth scraped them completely clean. Soon she was completely full.

Meanwhile her toy had plopped itself upon the counter and had rotated its head, its beady eyes seemed to take in its surroundings while also looking for trouble. Every time someone had moved closer for more mead, the small bear’s stuffed body tensed and paws curled to its side in a ready pose. Lyn had been so use to the idle toy’s antics she didn’t notice how some could see its movements as being hostile. By the time Ssarak and Meirin had started to approach, Lyn was already finished then felt slightly guilty realizing Meirin hadn’t eaten. She had already communicated her worry to Alaira but it didn’t matter now. Alaira had shifted both the empty’s plates, Ssarak’s and Lyn’s, to the barkeeper who took both empty dishes then wiped them down for the next paying customer. When Ssarak nodded to, Lyn’s eyes narrowed as she spotted Meirin’s position wondering if something was wrong. However, any farther thoughts were gone when Ssarak addressed her personally. Her head jerked up and met his eyes, his body pulled down to her eye level making her smile at his words and even the ability to help. Lyn eagerly nodded her head. In moments, she was down off Alaira’s lap, not once did she note the quick word exchange, and reached her hand for the Esyire’s so he could lead the way. She only paused long enough to wrap her other hand about her bear’s paw and tugged it along, the main body hung closely at her side.

-snip-

*Sighs*

Coco Bean

Coco jumped. Her leaves puffed out so quickly and hardened so much that they hurt her head. Her heart skipped a beat, and then the corpse spoke.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, poking me like that?” The dead woman asked.

'B-But you're dead!' Coco said, yet no sound came out. Her necklace would not speak her words, and they were stuck in her mind as thoughts.

And then the woman took a hold of her spear and yanked. Coco nearly let go, but she yanked back. When her yank didn't pull her spear free, she brought the blunt end the woman was holding down on her face. A sickening crunch and a moan of pain were all Coco needed to hear before she yanked again, but to no avail. Though out of nowhere, an armored arm came out of nowhere and hit the woman's arms, letting Coco's spear go. Coco jumped back, 'Wasn't that fleshling dead?! What the sand is going on?!'

And the woman, cracked skull and half eaten face, stood up, picking up a piece of charred wood. "Why don't you speak, plant?" She asked, a threatening hiss and tone to her voice. Coco took a trained grip of her spear and assumed position. The woman took a step forward, and Coco met the advance with an impaled lung. The woman kept advancing, face distorted into a primal snarl.

Just as Coco started yanking to free her spear once more, the woman swung her improvised weapon at her head.

CRACK.

The last thing she'd hear, followed by the feeling of losing her balance and her warm, thick sap flowing down from her face. She was on her knees and arms and her leaves, confused, puffed up and back down several times in a short moment.

The woman leaned down and grabbed Coco by the leaves, pulled her up and wrapped her remaining hand around Coco's neck. her grip tightened, and Coco squirmed. Not because she lacked breath, as she didn't even have a trachea to begin with, but because the woman's nails were starting to dig into her neck, and the pain was unbearable.

For a moment, Coco dared not touch the undead woman, but now... As she squirmed and tried to get away, she had an idea. Instead of pulling, she pushed. With all of her remaining strength, she jumped at the woman. Narrowly avoiding stabbing herself with her own spear, she managed to take the fight right to the woman, when she prepared her hands and touched the woman's stomach.

The woman convulsed violently, and a sizzling was heard coming from the place Coco's hands met the woman's stomach. After a moment, and even though the woman's grip on Coco's throat tightened, the woman shot back a few feet, leaving a burning sensation on Coco's throat, and along the sensation, five deep gashes gushing with sap. Coco was quick on her feet, stumbling her way over to retrieve her spear as the woman convulsed, and running away. She avoided a few more undead, used her spear to push others out of the way, and finally made it to her friends, where she tripped, only to roll and try to get up again.

When she failed to get up and her leaves started freaking out again, she knew she was in trouble. She propped herself up on her elbows, yet the whole world was dizzy. She felt sick, and the wound on her head only seemed to get worse.

She rolled onto her back and everything seemed to turn into a mess of sounds, pain and darkness. She had just lost consciousness.

Cynn Ellime
Cynn woke up in her infirmary bed. She could tell she had been sleeping for a long time, but she still felt exhausted. She moved to sit up against the wall behind her cot and nearly fell out; her head weighed much more than she remembered. Reaching behind her head only confirmed the elf's worries. Her stark-white hair - it was now much more off-white - now came down past her shoulders in the back, and her bangs hung down like drapes in front of two almond-shaped and vaguely green windows.

She did not like this. Waking up in an empty infirmary room - no, an empty infirmary - made her feel all alone. Somewhere in her mind, in her subconscious, she knew it also meant something much more insidious, but she squashed that feeling with her overwhelming naïvitée.

It was that naïvitée that coerced her into standing up, very shakily, from her bed. The spasms in her long-unused muscles caused Cynn some concern, not to mention discomfort, but once they had passed she felt a new sense of pride. The trick to regaining strength was taking those first few steps, or so she reasoned, and so she did. After the first six or seven steps, she remembered (for lack of a better term) how to walk, more or less, and she began to make her to her room.

The walk was long, and the young wood elf really shouldn't have been trying to make it. She was weakened from the months of rest, and ought to have taken it slowly. In her eyes, however, she was making good progress. It was much-needed excercise, she told herself. Better to move quickly and get back to work as soon as possible. Still, the small voice cried to her to take her time, but her arrogance would not be conquered.

When she got to her chamber door, she ignored how her hands fumbled with the lock and key. She had been slowed slightly when she found her roommate to be absent: it was when her doubtful subconscious came closest to triumphing over her. But she soon regained her pace. No sense in being slowed in the absence of a person, she figured. If I do, I'll never be able to keep pace in their presence.

She propped herself against her sturdy oak bedfame as she changed out of the infirmary gowns, which she folded and placed on her bed for later return. No mind was paid to the sudden bouts of weakness in Cynn's knees, no attention given to her trouble in balancing on one leg long enough to put new underwear and trousers. It crossed her mind that she should probably take a shower, but she dismissed the thought. She would do that after she checked up with everyone who would no doubt be worrying about her. Friends were more important than getting cleaned up right now.

At least, that's what the elf told herself. In reality, she knew that she wasn't stable enough to even take a bath. She wouldn't be able to stand in the shower without slipping and falling, and she wouldn't have enough strength to pull herself up if she began to drift a bit too far under the surface should she try to bathe. This trend of weakness-as-confidence continued as she finished getting dressed, putting on her brown leather vest over a grey linen button-up, which, along with her dried-mud-colored trousers, made her look like quite the adventurer. She even topped it all off with her welding goggles, which she wore on the top of her head (once again, she ignored it when her hand brushed against her now much longer hair).

Cynn felt confident. She felt like she could lift a boulder, or unearth an ancient, buried city from the days before the War. Hell, she felt like maybe she hadn't been asleep that long, and she'd be welcomed back like a kid who had just finished being grounded and returned to her friends.

She walked (again, far too quickly) to the dining hall and threw open the doors with the gusto of the most popular student in the entire school. She didn't notice it, but her heart sunk slightly upon seeing that there was no one else there. No matter. She strutted up to her usual spot and sat down, taking a second to take in the familiarity of the room. Then, she set out to work.

Or, she would have set out to work, had she brought any of her materials with her. She reached for her book bag only to find it absent. In a panic, Cynn checked under the table and mentally kicked herself for doing something that foolish. Obviously, she hadn't brought the bag with her; it wasn't as if some imp or gremlin had merely hidden it, and in such a terrible spot, at that.

The young girl began to freak out. All her preperation, all her excercise, and this was what it culminated in? Her false confidence was exposed to her for the hologram it had been, at least partially. The panic attack was now in full swing, her pupils dialating and her skin getting hot and sweaty. She swiveled around numerous times, even re-checking under the table thrice. At the culmination of this event, she began to mumble to herself. "No, where is it," she began, but the tone quickly turned to, "You idiot! Why did you leave it?" She felt tears at the very back of her eyes, but before the panic could progress, someone tapped on the table in front of her.

Looking up, Cynn could tell it was one of the kitchen staff. She wore the uniform, after all. For a brief moment, the elf felt reassured; she knew everyone on the kitchen staff from her days of working at the table she now sat at. Her newfound warm reassurance turned to despair as her eyes moved to the worker's face. It was new, never seen before. To Cynn, it might of well have been covered in Dwarven runes, for all the good it did her. The woman asked her if she was alright, if she needed water, but all Cynn could do was stare at her face in terror. Frightened and panicking, she looked past this foreign face to the kitchen behind the counter, hoping to see at least one familiar face. All she was greeted with was more foreign, albeit worried, faces, none of which she'd ever seen before.

They looked at her like she was some ghost, though maybe that was just how she felt. How she felt; that's what had gotten her into this mess. She'd felt confident, progressive, safe, and this is where it had gotten her. And so, just like that, her subconscious took control with what it knew.

Cynn knew she was an awkward introvert. She knew she could barely life a patch of gravel, much less a boulder. She knew she wasn't strong or stable enough to walk sturdily; searching out and excavating ruins was out of the question.

Cynn knew she'd been asleep for much longer than she could fathom.

She cried. She had managed to bury her head in her arms before it started, but that only saved her a fraction of the shame of weeping in front of strangers. The girl who came to check on the young elf started walking away, judging by her unsure footsteps. Soon, the kitchen came back to life, abandoning Cynn to cry alone. She was so alone, so pathetic, so weak. How could she have been so stupid? She shouldn't have ever left the infirmary.

Then, the door closed. Funny, she hadn't heard it open, but she guessed that the sound of her crying and her internal self-loathing had trumped her Elven ears. She was still crying, but she tried to get it under control; what had been a thunderstorm became a sniffly drizzle, and she raised her head just enough to look at whoever it was who had just entered.

Leith rotated his shoulder as he watched the mob of undead in front of him. They just wouldn't stop. They'd be cut down and more would take their place. A man with a makeshift spear came around the mob and stepped towards Leith. The right side of the man's face was caved in from eye to ear. It was a grisly wound, and Leith had to fight to keep himself from losing his breakfast. The man smiled, showing broken and bloodied teeth.

"You should surrender and die," the man said an a rattling voice. "You can't kill us."

Leith nodded in agreement. "You're right, I can't, but I can slow you down." Without another word, he lunged forward and sliced at the man before he could react.

But react he did.

The man had started moving before Leith had. And while he was no means fast, he managed to jab at Leith with the spear before he was cut in half. The spear lodged itself into Leith's left bicep. With a shout of pain, he took a few steps backwards. He examined the wound. It was a deep wound, and the weight of the haft was pulling on it. Glancing back at the undead, he stabbed his sword into the ground and grabbed a hold of the haft by the head and broke it off, gritting his teeth at the pain.

The sound of a body hitting the ground caught his attention. He looked up and saw Coco. She tried pulling herself up but failed and fell and stopped moving. Leith's mind went blank as he tried to figure out what just happened. Was she dead? Unconscious? He had no clue. He knelt down and examined the Foreas, looking up periodically to look for any undead person.

She had a rather bad head wound with what seemed to be the Foreas equivalent of blood oozing out of it. There were marks on her neck that was bleeding as well. He put his left hand against her neck below the marks and stopped them from bleeding out of the wound. He waited a few seconds before he released his hold on the blood. It wasn't bleeding nearly as bad as it was before. He wasn't sure if he could do the same for the head wound. They needed to get to someplace safe quickly. He looked over his shoulder to see how close to the house he was and to see who was there. Althalus and Grey were by the door, The guide was between Leith and the house. That left Mar unaccounted for.

He found her quickly enough, being that she was the only Naga here. She was still and being rushed by a child. Maybe she had been dazed. Whatever it was, it wasn't good. He wouldn't make it in time, the child had almost reached Mar. Leith made a small gesture and grabbed for any liquid he could see. Once he was satisfied, he packed it down into a ball the size of an apple. And with a small chopping motion, he sent the ball hurtling towards the child.

The ball made contact with the child's head and bounced off before breaking apart. Leith was glad to see that the ball had knocked the child off balance. Leith looked at Mar. "Mar! Are you okay?" He ignored the small headache that was forming and picked up his sword and turned towards the approaching horde. If Grey didn't get the door down soon, he was going to give it a try.

---

Darius Jura

Darius sat at a table by the wall and ate his meal. He glared at Alaira while he ate. He would have approached her when she sat down, but Ssarak brought the child that saved them to Alaira. He had no qualms about confronting Alaira with the child there. It was the stuffed toy that moved on its own that made him uneasy. It didn't look like much, but he had experience with underestimating something because it didn't look threatening. He had time to have two helpings of soup with a chunk of bread before Ssarak came back and took the child, and the toy, with him. Meirin seemed to have the same idea as he did and was talking to Alaira, and the way Meirin was standing made it look like they weren't talking about anything nice.

He stood up from his table and made his way towards the bar and sat down beside Alaira. He ordered some mead and waited for it before he turned to address Meirin. "You should sit. This will take a while."

Pitch Black

Pitch opened his eyes, blinking a few times in the light that shone through the window. The old lantern had gone out, though he could still remember watching them dance against the black palette that was darkness. He pushed himself up on his elbows, and leaned back a bit so he could see out the window. He must not have slept very long, though, because the sun was not perched very high in the sky.

He slid his legs from the bed, stretching them out for a moment. He stood up, a bit abruptly, and wobbled a bit before steadying himself. He let out a long, loud yawn, and stepped awkwardly to his dresser. As he got dressed, he vaguely remembered the dream he'd had. He had been in some sort of tower, built higher than he could see. On one of the floors, though, he could see something shining through the window. Well, more of a huge hole in the wall. It seemed to be calling him, telling him to go and retrieve it. So he did, of course. He climbed the countless number of stairs. Each floor had strange people and things. Some people were familiar, others were not. The one he remembered most, was a small, hobbled old man. He looked pretty normal, but then he turned around. The opposite side of the old man's head was decayed and dripping an odd purple substance. So Pitch left the floor and continued up the stairs. He made it to the floor that had been shining. That was it, the moment he'd been waiting for. But then he woke up, just as he touched the door.

Pitch wore black trousers, a large patch where his knee was. His torso was covered in a plain black button-up, with a white undershirt beneath it. He pulled on his shoes, that looked more like they should be worn for special occasions, shiny and black. He matted his hair back, making him actually look rather nice. He checked himself through his reflection in the window, let out a high-pitched laugh, and messed his hair up again. Why would he need to look nice? Ha! Forget nice, wild and creepy was more his style.

He grabbed his bag, which was hanging on his bedpost. It was fairly small, but would definitely work for holding just about anything. It had several pockets, half of them on the inside. He shoved a few pieces of parchment inside, and threw it over his shoulder, carrying it like some sort of homeless person. He left his room, slamming the door loudly behind him. He heard a few gasps just as the door shut. He chuckled to himself, not having flinched one bit.

He walked down the hallway, slowly but surely, and heard his stomach growl. Suppose it's time to eat something... he thought, almost saying aloud. He strolled down to the dining hall, leisurely opened the doors, and looked around. Empty. Great, all the more for me!

Then he heard something, a whimper of some sort. It seemed he had missed the presence of a young elf, crying alone at one of the tables. Pitch let out a sort of high-pitched laugh, moving toward the table. He supposed eating could wait, he wanted to know what was going on. Especially to this particular elf who'd found it an interesting idea to go to the empty dining hall. Then again, it was also his idea, having come down here just to find it just about as barren as a desert with a single cactus.

He obnoxiously slammed his hands onto the table that the elf sat at, giving her an eerie smile that could hardly be human. He cleared his throat.

"So I see I'm not the only one who takes..." he paused, "Pleasure... in isolation. Though it seems that you've got nothing to be excited about, what's the problem?" He squinted, now staring at her for quite some time.