One orb after the other. Each spawning from the previous one as she stepped on it and began her pathway downwards to the messy scene ahead. Looks like one of the protagonists had gone berserk! Whatever could become of the heroes?! A small giggle fell from her lips as she eventually reached the ground close to where the others were and hummed in a sweet delight as the story unraveling before her eyes. Every little movement was just another fun thing she could create if she really put her mind to it...

Maybe she could learn more?

"So...What are you people doing picking on a dragon, out of curiosity? And why does that guy over there look like he has some raging anger problems? Probably not the time to ask these, but it's better than awaiting back up in the tree since I'm out of snacks...In fact, hey, after you solve your problems and get ready to go, can I join along with whatever journey you guys are going on? You all look like a bunch of fun.~"

Current fucks given: 0.

The spectre stared at the man, no breath escaping his cold, dead lips. Slowly he lowered his blade, allowing it to rest on the ground, though his right hand still gripped the hilt. Staring at the man before him... wondering what to do... to stay silent would invite suspicion... or worse, they may attack him if he did not voice his intention. However... the veil made the dilemma more confusing... if he spoke the man would hear the revenants words as vile lies... but... perhaps one among the group did not register the veil... he knew such people existed... and it was better to appear to lie than to remain mute. So... with a rasping, gasping tune he began to speak. It came in clipped, monotonous tone, as if the ghostly apparition had not moved whatever passed for a tounge in a very, very long time.

"I...will... no... not attack..." It would seem as though speaking was more difficult for the spectre than fighting, "You... carry... a relic... it's soul... I see.... an... and feel... it... I... see... seek the relics. You... are... their... their... leige lord... are you not?" This last comment a direct question for the man before him, "wh... Who..." a coughing wheeze escaped the spectre's mouth, it sounded as if dust should have come out with it, "who... is... the... the one... wreathed in... red?"

“Chaotic neutral? No, I think I’m rather more in line with the true neutral variety, don’t you think?” the Jester pondered.

He appeared completely unfazed by Mal’s worded threats or the growing dark energy around him. Before the Demon Prince could do anything, the masked man reached a hand out and held his palm before the boy’s face. Then it curled into a pointed finger and he aimed at the boy’s forehead.

“You loathe me, yet I can give you purpose. Burn this moment into your memory Mal Tervsa. Rejoice for this grand shift in your story. Remember...Zyax….o…..mort.”

The Masked Jester pulled back, apparently satisfied by his actions. Stepping back, the Jester’s body began to fade away into nothingness, leaving all traces of his presence and existence.

“Farewell for now Mal Tervsa. It was….interesting chatting with you.”

And then he was gone.

“Fuck off green prick!”

There it was again. Except this time, the voice was more harsh, hatred and vulgarity spilling from its depths. Sable blinked, eyes shifting around to make sense of the voice as she fell to the earth with the dragon in tow. That’s when she noticed a chained whip heading straight for her.

Twirling her blade, she deflected the blow and leaped away from the dragon. As she clung onto the nearest tree, the sound of the forest crunching was heard, the dragon’s body having completed its plummet.

Regardless of Sable’s failed fatal blow, the impact of the crash was enough to send the dragon into shock, earning it a quick death. Swinging from the tree branch, the Crimson Streak landed on the ground and observed the massive corpse.

“Target eliminated,” she told herself, already moving to regroup with the others. The first person her eyes caught sight of was a…very eccentric girl. The one with the floating orbs…what was with all these eccentric youngsters?

Hearing her question, Sable cleared her throat before answering robotically with, “That will not be necessary. We are quite capable of traveling alone. However, if you really must, we will give you a one day grace period before ignoring your presence entirely. That is all, and apologies.”

With that said, she headed over to stand by her partner, who was speaking with the undead soldier. The assassin waited for Atreides to answer the being’s questions, though she noted how the fallen knight kept directing its gaze at her.

The voice from before, however, still played heavily on her mind. Twice now, it had interfered, whatever it was. The green Relic would hear it, unbeknownst to Ugnis, and instantly recoil back with recognition. Compared to the all too familiar voice, the green Relic’s blood lusted nature was but a flickering flame to an inferno…

The sinner had spoken.

Katarina watched as the red blur of a fighter slew the dragon and made her way back to the crowd. The fighting was over. The hunt was complete. She finally hopped down from the tree she watched from and walked towards the giant lizard which crashed not too far from the crowd. She turned and faced the crowd as soon as she was a few feet from the massive thing.

"This thing is huge! That was a great hunt! I saw the whole thing!" She glanced back at the dead dragon. "What is this lizard? Are you guys going to eat it? Can you eat it? I could have thought of easier things to hunt! Wait, was this a test of strength? What are you going to do now? What are your names? I'm Katarina by the way!" She then climbed up the giant lizard with ease. "Wow! This thing is huge! When do we start cooking? We can't let any of this go to waste!"

She hadn't actually had anything to eat yet, so she was really eager to dig into this new beastie and see how it tasted. She pulled a carving knife from her backpack and started to cut into the body of the dragon. The scales really made things difficult so she put a bit more umph into removing them first. All this time she payed attention to what was going on in the crowd of strangers. She remembered Mommy telling her about being careful around people, because not all of them are nice like she and Daddy were.

Zyax…o…mort?

Mal snarled as the man began to dissipate, and with him went the anger of his inner spirit. Once the masked man was gone, Mal twisted around to see a forest torn by carnage, and the smoking carcass of an emerald beast. His hand grasped at the strap around his shoulder, holding the bag firmly in his gloved hands as he peeked into the distance.

The crowd had increased in size from before his conversation. He could see that much based on the group that had surrounded that red girl. As for Ugnis, he appeared to have dashed off, screaming bloody murder as he went. The relic’s energy still wavered on the air, but it wasn’t enough to afflict Mal’s magic in any way, shape, or form.

Zyaxomort. And what had the man been saying about his “shift” in the story? The way he talked sounded almost like a deity out of a myth. He held onto that word though, and the man’s shifty eyes. Had Mal been quick to judge the Jester of the Court? Exactly what court was he playing for if he called himself a true neutral?

Either way, Mal was getting his second wind. He had enough energy to get out of that situation and recuperate, at least. With a tug at the straps of his bag, he turned towards the road that led back to the Rivenwood town.

From there, he needed to find a library, or somewhat relatively intelligent.

Zyaxomort. Zyax O’Mort? Zyax O. Mort? Zyaxo Mort? The collection of sounds didn’t sound like the common dialect, but it stuck in his brain like a jagged thorn.

He needed to find out the meaning of it all.

So, clutching at his bleeding shoulder with one hand, he grabbed a stick from the ground as support and limped down the road.

He glanced back one last time to the group. There was one relic there, as well as a man on whom Mal personally placed his mark.

His signature grin broke wide again, “Well Buster, today has been quite unique. Unfortunately, I lack the energy to deal with any threats at the moment… I guess we dive in deeper tomorrow… once I’ve recovered.”

He adjusted his hood by lifting his hand away from his shoulder. The dark hood was starting to stain darker red as he stumbled down the road at a slow, but consistent pace.

Once the cursed one managed to get out that he would not attack, Atreides let his hand drop from his sword hilt. He knew the truth of things, then, and would not remain any more hostile to him than he was normally to everyone. But he kept his tone in check as the being stuttered and forced the truth of its words out between whatever the curse attempted to wring them into, a considerable effort no doubt. As it finished speaking, he responded in kind, returning his hands to the pockets of his coat as he did so.

"They don't swear fealty to me, soldier, though if this turns out to be one big band of people running around, I will at least try to talk sense into them before they run into bloody peril every five minutes. The red lady? Folks call her Crimson Streak, Sable to others, she's handy with the knives, enough so not to need magic to compensate. You got a name, or shall it remain cursed one or soldier?"

Atreides had pretty much dismissed the other people running around, being problematic and talking FAR too much, too fast, and too loud for his own tastes. Sable eventually wandered over, and he glanced her way briefly before returning his gaze to the cursed soldier and await his response, speaking an aside to Sable as he did so.

"Lot louder than planned, Meat. Got any suggestions for further planning? Can bet your arse at least one of that lot a raging murder desire for me now. Almost always happens."

Darkness was falling fast, the sun setting over the land, and it wouldn't be too long before folks would have to turn in at the town's local inn. Atreides wouldn't mind a good night's rest, though some preparations would be necessary prior to falling asleep of course. Never trust his surroundings to be safe got him a good ways.

"Grace period? Ah, I'm still going to end up following you anyways. Besides! I'm great at healing wounds! Here, let's see, how about your friend over there that's wobbling a bit? Actually, that might scare him...Oh well. I'll just wait until later..."

A cross of the arms and the separated orbs all converged back into a single one that performed a light rotation above her head as she listened to the lot speak. ...Sable? A woman without magic taking on a dragon? Sounded like a death wish in the making to her. But, might as well get to work if she wanted to try and stay close to this newfound interest of hers. And with that in mind, she clapped her hands together and held her hand up for the sake of drawing the red woman's attention.

"Miss Sable! Are you injured anywhere in particular? Or your friends of varying eccentric backgrounds? Also, is that your kid? I don't think I've ever seen someone try to eat a dragon before...I wonder if it tastes okay..."

Katarina finally managed to pop one scale off with the carving knife she was using. It took some real effort. Why would someone hunt something so hard to prepare for food? She sat down on the dragon and sighed. Maybe she was wrong. Something this big probably wasn't food anyways, maybe they were its food and it just wasn't prepared for such a tough fight. She checked her knife and realized that it was dulled just from prying away like she was and she frowned. She placed the knife back into her bag in its proper place making a note to sharpen it later.

She then heard from the crowd:

"Miss Sable! Are you injured anywhere in particular? Or your friends of varying eccentric backgrounds? Also, is that your kid? I don't think I've ever seen someone try to eat a dragon before...I wonder if it tastes okay..."

She stood up and hopped off the dragon with ease. "Dragon! That's what it's called... weird. And she isn't my Mum. My Mum and Pa sent me exploring to learn about the world! I'm not a kid either. I'm seventeen. That makes me an adult!" She placed her hands on her hips and smiled proudly. Then her stomach grumbled and groaned, causing her to frown again. "And I'm hungry..." Carving up the dragon was a waste of effort and now that she thought of it; the dragon was probably really tough and chewy to eat too. Any huge alpha predator like that would have a lot of tough muscle. She'd have to try and find some food, unfortunately, she didn't know which plants were edible and hunting animals would be a fair amount of effort too.

Sable sighed.

It was starting to get late, and frankly, she didn’t like the idea of wasting any more energy mindlessly slaughtering the predators of the night. So she turned in the direction of the nearest town, ready to make the long trek there. She fully expected Atreides to follow her when he was done conversing…but what about the others?

As if unconsciously, she felt her feet carry her towards the strange girl with the orbs, eyeing yet another stranger who was standing atop the dragon and ranting about food. Or something. It was probably best not to let these younglings run around.

And at that, she sighed again.

“No, that girl is not my offspring,” she answered with no emotion to the girl with orbs. "Can you care to introduce yourself? Also…I see that I have mildly scratched myself during the last target elimination.”

She held up her left hand to reveal a small criss-cross of scratches, probably when slicing away at that dragon’s scales. Nothing too serious, but she figured she might as give the girl what she wanted.

“If you wait shortly, we will find food at the nearest mess hall in the nearest town,” she called out to the girl still standing near the dragon.

"Oh, alright. My name is Exoris.~ And it's a pleasure to meet you, madame. You're quite interesting despite your frosty demeanor- oh. You did get hurt? Alright, lemme fix it. Just stand still!"

The orb at her side floated upwards, right over the woman's head as Exoris hummed a tune and held her index finger upwards against the sphere. A small beam, no bigger than a beam of her pinky, shot out from the tip and into the orb that had grown a bright, sweet pink color. Ah, yes, there it was. The shift in her weapon to turn it into a conduit for nice things!~ With the beam converging into the center of the orb, it would shoot right down on the entirety of the red-clad woman in front of her. What looked like an actual attack was instead a spell turned into a healing light. The crossed wounds would close up as it touched at her skin and Exoris would cross her arms soon afterwards with a satisfied look on her face.

"I doubt the details of how it works is important, so I won't bother boring you with the details. I'm tagging along until you die, if you don't mind! And come on, little girl! Or do you wanna be carried?"

Yes, despite the fact that the girl was only a year younger than her at most, she was still calling her "little". It was an endearing nickname! After all, who thought to go and try carving up a dragon for the sake of making a meal? That deserved some credit to her for creative eating...If not slight concern for how that thought process went to decide that big, green, and scaly equaled beef jerky for dinner.

"Name... my... name..." the ghostly knight had not been asked for his name in... well he was unsure if just how long had passed. He began running through most all the words in his memory, desperately searching for something to call himself... what was his name? Finally a word caught his attention... it would have to do, "I... was once... ca... called... Gilligan... long ago..." hopefully that would suffice. Though the number of the living had quickly grown since the fight, with more coming from seemingly no where. A strange girl with floating orbs, her soul two very different sides of the same coin. A boy already walking... his soul lobotomized... and temperamental... and fraying. Another woman long in hair... and with the least of corrupted spirits... and a white haired man... wielder of the relic... but his soul carried terror... and the bloodthirsty amulet only inflamed the aggressive soul... a strange group... Gilligan was unsure if they truly knew about even themselves. Gilligan... he would have to become use to calling himself that. Again his vision strayed to the Crimson one... Sable... her soul was strange to him... almost familiar... again memory overtook him... bright light and green grass... a wide beautiful field... and the form of a person... obscured by the sun... and again he was wrenched back to his half existence... how strange...
Returning his attention to the man before him, the soldier managed to sputter out, "You seek... the relics... I will accompany you... and... sable... this... is... Un... ne... negoti... negotiable..."

Time had passed, and Yem had made it to the inn. He was currently lying down on a straw mattress, thinking. He was in possession of a legendary old relic. By all means, he was now a rich man, should he decide to deliver the relic to the authorities. But Yem had little trust in said authorities, and craved no riches. He craved knowledge and power, and something told him the relics held both. He would have to learn to somehow decipher them to obtain it, but that was a problem for later. Right now, he was looking at his amulet and thinking about the strange experience he'd had earlier that day. Someone had been in his body, making it move, using sorcery that Yem himself had no knowledge of whatsoever. That someone could still be in his body, Yem had to admit, but he thought it more likely that it was linked to the amulet. He wanted to communicate with it, speak with it, learn from it, but he was unsure how to do so. Letting it take over had come so naturally for him before, and he was sure he'd be able to do it again, but he couldn't for his life remember how he'd done it now that he was out of the moment. It was probably more of the relics doing than his own. He pondered some more, and then decided to just try something. Experiment. He held the black stone to his chest.

Who are you?, he thought, And why are you in the stone?

There was no answer.

Who are you?, Yem asked again. He wasn't giving up that easy, Tell me who you are!

Still no answer. Yem frowned.

Can you even hear me, or am I making a fool of myself?

Not a sound. Perhaps if he approached it differe-

I can hear you, though whether you're a fool or not I'll leave to future judgement, a voice in his mind suddenly said.

Yem was startled but quickly regained his calm. He collected his thoughts and emptied his mind; whoever it was could hear his thoughts. Best not give too much away.

Why didn't you answer me before? I've been asking your name.

Because you were rude. One doesn't ask for names before giving ones own. It's common courtesy, really.

I see. In that case, I'm Yem.

Yem. What an odd name.

So I've heard. Will you not give me yours now that I've given mine?

I never said I would.

Yem smiled. Tricky. He liked that.

That's rather rude of you, don't you think?

Perhaps. But I've never claimed that I'm not.

He could see that he wouldn't get anything else out of the entity living in the relic tonight, so he decided to retreat for now and return later when he was better prepared.

Ah, I see. This has been illuminating, but I fear I must rest now. We will talk more later.

If you say so, Yem. If you say so.

He put the relic down beside him and wrapped it in a piece of cloth. Hopefully, it couldn't read his mind if he separated himself from it like that. He would have to think of a strategy to get the truth from the being in the amulet.

Atreides listened with surprising patience as the cursed soldier worked his way through his fractured mind and manner of speech, eventually giving forth the name of Gilligan. Well, that was better than Cursed one, although that would no doubt suffice in a pinch. The being proceeded to mention accompanying Sable and himself, and the matter was not up for debate. Well, that meant they had an undead and near indistructeable, from the showing he gave with the dragon, soldier following them around that could not speak very well. This would make visits to town far more entertaining, he thought with a mental sigh. Well, that did mean things would be easier in sheer violence situations, although why the cursed one insisted on the matter was a mystery to the Taskmage. Depending on how fractured the being was, Gilligan might very well see the past in them and be clinging to it. Or he was very perfectly all there and was putting on a show. He couldn't confirm that either way right now, and for now, it wasn't worth the pain.

"Well, Sir Gilligan, I won't tell you where to go or who to go with, so by all means, let's get the ladies and get moving."

Atreides turned towards Sable, seeing she already had a little gang of her own and snickered, a sound that she would be familiar with as a prelude to some sort of mockery or ribbing that was about to drop. Approaching the woman, whether cursed soldier was in tow or not, he crossed his arms with a sardonic smirk on his face.

"Look at you Meat, got yourself a little girl's night out club and everything already. No more babysitting for me, it seems. On a serious note, its late, we need to find someplace to put up for the night. Town sound good?"

Sable’s ears slightly twitched at the familiar snicker, a frown already deepening onto her face-wait, no. She was already frowning. Well that saved her some effort. Turning around, she met the image of her smirking partner with a look of clear disapproval.

“We are not a girl’s night out club Atreides,” she pointed out with no emotion. “We are simply travelers going the same way. I think a fan club would be more appropriate to utilize.”

With that said, she looked back at the girl with the pink healing light. Testing out her hand, Sable nodded in approval at the renewed flesh.

“Thank you…Exoris. I see there is no debating the issue of you following me. Therefore, do not expect me to save you in times of dire need. That is all.”

She turned then, giving Atreides a curt nod before heading for the nearest town. Dusk was soon approaching, and with it, the predators of the night. Not too far away from them, those very same predators had their sights on Ugnis and his green Relic.

Watching. Waiting.

Of course, none of that was on the Crimson Streak’s mind. No, no, she was wondering just what ever happened to her first fan, Muzai?

Back in town, Mal would find quite an interesting sight to greet him. For one reason or another, Imperium soldiers were on foot and looking for…something. Probably the Legend Relics, and that made the most sense. They didn’t notice him, and probably wouldn’t unless he caused a scene.

He could probably slip by and get a room without worry if he kept his composure. With that demon festering inside of him, it was certainly a large gamble.

Far away in a similar town, Yem had finished his attempted conversation with the black Relic. As he departed for the night, a presence was watching him from the darkness. They waited and watched, before slipping inside his lone room through a window. Keeping themselves into the shadows, they focused on his sleeping form.

At once, they drew a crimson blade and became poised to strike.

Katarina smiled as Sable mentioned that there would be food at the mess hall of the next town they were going to. "Yes ma'am!" She didn't really like waiting for food, but she was fairly used to being hungry and skipping meals. She had learned to take advantage of any meals she could get while she was in the desert, so food was especially important for her. Even if she could slow her metabolism down and go a few days before getting hungry.

She then listened as Atreides and Sable spoke with each other and scratched her head at the phrase "fan club". She looked around and didn't see any fans. She knew what a fan was, she had seen her mother use one to cool herself off, but it sounded weird for someone to make a club out of them. She didn't even see any fans on Sable. "'Fan club'? I don't see any clubs made of fans... That doesn't sound like a very efficient weapon either." She was genuinely confused.

She then realized that they were adventurers. She definitely wanted to come along. After all, adventurers traveled the world just like her dad did. "I'm definitely coming too!" She practically cheered. "You guys are adventurers, I can get to see the world with you all!" She didn't quite understand that most of them had only just met.

Well, this was quite a sight.

As Mal limped up to the town gates and ditched the stick he used for support behind a fence, he noticed the glint of well-polished armor in the distance. Numerous men in metal helms wandered around the streets, knocking on doors, careening into bars and essentially walking across the territory as if they knew the place.

He grimaced when he noticed the sigil on the shoulder plate of one of the men. In a fluid movement, he pulled his hood further over his face in an attempt to obscure his eyes as he slinked down the side of the road. The shadow inside him bubbled in frustration. This was one thing Mal and the shade could agree upon. The Imperium and all that protected them were scum.

Even so, as much as Mal would’ve liked to rip them apart, he knew his body could not handle it. He needed to recover his energy with food and a good rest for the evening.

It didn’t help that Mal had multiple accounts of murder stacked against him that got his face on the posters of many large cities.

He slinked in the shadows, keeping to the darker spots as darkness came closer. He was steps away from the inn he had passed the first time when he heard rumors of the Relics waiting in Rivenwood.

The fact that Mal had travelled all that way after assassinating a classist aristocrat only to continue searching and using his magic was probably a bad idea in retrospect, but Mal wanted to get there before anyone else, and find those things before they ended up in the wrong hands.

“Excuse me, sir,” a heavy voiced asked as Mal took his first step towards the inn. The little wooden steps leading up to the main door were only feet away as Mal heard clinking armor behind him.

“Can I help you?” Mal asked without turning around.

The man cleared his throat, “You wouldn’t happen to know of any strangers passing through that would know something about the Legend Relics?”

Mal paused, “I wouldn’t know. I’m a stranger myself.”

Before the man could continue, Mal slipped through the doors of the inn and approached the counter.

A few moments later he was in a small room tucked away in the corner of the upper floor. The kind owners had promised to bring food up to his room as he was feeling “under the weather” as he put it.

Sometimes, with just the right smile and proper politeness, it was easy to convince people to help him out. Especially if they didn’t talk for extended periods of time.

Mal didn’t waste any time. He borrowed some of the linens from the drawers of a tiny cabinet and methodically tore strips from one of the sheets to wrap around his chest and shoulders. Then, with his hood wrapped around him once more, he tumbled onto the bed. It wasn’t perfectly comfortable, but it was better than a dusty road.

Mal was asleep within seconds, with the word Zyaxomort sitting on his tongue.

It tastes so delicious dont you think?

N'kara took another bite out of the meat she had in her hand. The meat was still fresh and tender, exactly the way she liked it. You're in my head arent you? You surely know wether I like it or not, dont you? She could hear the voice in her head laughing. Ofcourse I do and I know you love it. Just wanted to hear you say it.. N'kara was walking on a path through the forest towards the town of Rivenwood to find an inn to rest for the night. She wasnt planning on staying for long as she had other business elsewhere.

N'kara took another bite out of the meat as she walked on. Fine, I like it, happy now or are you going to ask me again the next time I eat it? The voice let out a snicker. What do you think? N'kara let out a sigh. I was afraid you would say that...

Just as she finished her sentence she heard the trampling of hooves, it didnt matter to her so she continued on her path, her cloak blowing in the light breeze. As the sound got closer there was also the sound of plate armour clanging against itself. Behind her was a horseman aproaching, he bore the banner of some Imperial priesthood.

The man, who was of a small stature, hailed N'kara. "Hail traveller. Could you aid me in something?" N'kara covered her face with her hood as she stopped and took another bite of her meat, tearing a piece violently off before she grinned. That depends on what you require of me. The man responded with a hint of amazement: "You're a woman!?" Ooh boy... Wrong choice of words. The man quickly readjusted his speech. "I'm sorry, judging by your stature I assumed you were... ooh nevermind. Anyhow, am the bodyguard of a priest but I euhm... Lost him when he was "blessing" a young woman not far from here." And you want to know if I've seen him? she responded with a grin on her face. "Indeed madam, have you?"

That depends...She turned around and faced the man, even though he was sitting on horseback they met eye to eye. When the man saw her face he turned pale in an instant. What he saw was something which was reminicent of the ghost stories he was told as a child. The woman infront of him had pitchblack eyes save for the near white iris and the pupil was very narrow and long. Her mouth was filled with teeth which seemed to come from a wolf and her face was covered in blood. She slowly turned her hand in which she held her food around to him and what he saw shocked him to his core. ...Is this the man you are looking for? The horribly mutalated head of the priest was resting in her hand.

"Demonspawn!" the man shouted. Before he could do anything else however his horse was already dead. N'kara took one swing at the animal's head and fractured it's skull. With this the horse fell and the man became stuck under it. He was desperatly trying to get the horse off but he had no succes. N'kara on the other hand was taking her time as she walked over to him and eventually towered over the man. He looked up, tears in his eyes. "Please, I have a family! They will die without me!" N'kara bend down next to the man. Ooh well that changes thing. She took one last bite out of the priest's head, ripping away the final piece of flesh. Blood fell on the man as he was crying out to her. "Please, dont let me die like this!" N'kara threw away the head and responded. Well... Alright, because you asked so nicely.

With little effort she pushed the carcas of the horse away. The man couldnt believe it, she had been so close to killing him and now she was helping him? Surely the gods were- Before he could finish his train of thought he had a hand around his troat and it lifted him up in the air, slowly chocking the life out of him. You were right, I could let you die like that. I would much rather do it like this. She grinned widly, baring her teeth. At this point the man was starting to wet himself, thinking that his was the end for him... How wrong he was.

15 minutes later N'kara was continuing her path towards Rivenwood, hoping to be able to get a warm bed and meal. A soft moan was still audible and N'kara smiled, she had her fun for the day. As she was walking away the man was still alive... His hands and feet were impaled into a tree nearby and his entire body had runes carved into him. Another fitting sacrifise to the gods my dear. N'kara smiled. Indeed... Now lets hope that Rivenwood can provide us with some more entertainment then he could. Her bloodlust was tamed and with the totem in honour of the dark gods left in behind her she walked on to Rivenwood.

“You’ve met with an interesting fate, now haven’t you?”

The man pinned to the tree looked up with fading eyes, half-conscious and bleeding. The masked man had appeared without notice or warning, starting at his pathetic form with those haunting eyes of his. His mind struggled to piece together a word for the man, only to realize that he had no name. Only a title.

“J…Jester of the…Court…please…”

The Jester did not make a move to assist him, merely tilting his head curiously. And then he chuckled. The man blinked, confused, before raising his voice a little higher to sway the Imperator’s closest benefactor.

“Jester….help me-wait, what are you doing?!?”

The masked man reached out with an outstretched hand. At once, the pinned man’s body began to dissipate into nothingness, his entire core slipping out of reach. His flesh, bone, and blood all began to tear away into scraps of dissolving pointlessness. Yet his mind was kept conscious, aware, and intact. Jester made sure of that.

“Praising the dark gods of old, are we? That’s a terrible sin you know. Worry not. I forgive you for such blasphemy. Be calm in knowing that you will be missed substantially. Farewell side character.”

The man was no more, though his mind was sealed into the spot at the tree. Forever trapped, howling with silent screams to the world and the fate that would play out before him, over and over again. For all of eternity.

“Hmm.”

The Jester looked up to the sky, narrowing his eyes in newfound interest.

“It’s you then, N’kara. Finally causing trouble, are you? Heh…it seems it can’t be helped then.”

The masked man began to fade away from the gruesome scene, his purpose meant for elsewhere.

“What a foolish little girl. Don’t you know that all gods give worship to me?”

By the time Sable’s group had reached the nearest town of Rivenwood, the Imperium soldiers had all but left. There were a few stragglers still in search, but they too soon left on their way to depart for the growing night.

Sable was brief and brisk, stating a robotic farewell to the gathered group before departing for the night in an inn not too far away from the one both Mal and N’kara found themselves in.

Sleep did not come easily for her, though morning did eventually come. Paying for her services to the inn-keeper, she made her way to the center of the town’s square, waiting for the others who would no doubt awaken as well.

The next Relic was close.

Atreides had eventually made his way back to town, alone for the time being. He avoided contact with the last few Imperial troops roaming about, still sniffing for further relics or hints towards those relics. The Taskmage really didn't feel like dealing with those mindless goons right now, so he skulked in the shadows until they left, sighing quietly as he walked down the empty streets. He wasn't tired, granted he slept little and ate less most days, but that was nothing unusual for him, not anymore. People commented on it, usually, but he shrugged them off for the most part. He still functioned normally, he just had to crash every once in a blue moon to catch up on what he missed. But he had to figure out the next general location for the next relic, Sable usually relied on him in that regard, if any others even existed. He had a knack for figuring out the right place and right time to pick out relics and their locations.

The Taskmage headed for the seediest part of the town, he knew some people there that would be able to help him out. They would probably not be happy he was back in town, one of them might be dumb enough to draw on him, but that would be the blood he needed to intimidate the rest into cooperating, no doubt. He had no qualms doing so, as long as he got the information he needed, that would be that. He walked into a bar that only thieves, murderers, other equally dangerous sorts, and fools would walk into and began putting out feelers with the few night walkers that were there, digging around for information. The barkeep knew him and what he did well enough to not try and stop him, but several beatings tended to loosen tongues, and as he picked up the pieces of a table and set them aside, he was mulling over what he knew so far.

Atreides wasted no time heading for the tavern that Sable was staying at, walking through the front doors like a shadow more than anything else, sitting himself in a corner of the main common room, eventually coming to have a drink in hand as he kept his peace, and someone who knew the man would recognize that he was guarding the only way up to the bedrooms, where Sable was asleep. He couldn't stop people trying for the windows, sure, but he trusted the woman was smart enough to take care of herself in that regard. He could keep an eye on the main way upstairs, she could handle herself in her own quarters.

Mal’s mind was sharp and his body refreshed as his eyes snapped open in the later hours of the morning. He stretched his back slowly as he moved to his feet and pulled back at the linens around his body. The wounds were still there, but they were already scabbing. They were bleeding quite a bit the day before, but they weren’t all that deep. He quickly assessed himself and the bedroom.

By taking a deep breath, he was relieved to feel that his magic was flowing through him again at his full strength. Sometimes all it took was a
decent meal and a night’s rest to reinvigorate him for another day. Carefully he coiled the spiked chains around his waist as he glanced out the window into the yonder. He knew that he needed to find a library stat, and the best place for that would be Infinitum, unfortunately. Already his spine was crawling at the idea of stepping into that over-glorified self-serving kingdom of which the Imperator calls his home, but he also knew that he wouldn’t be finding this “Zyaxomort” any other way.

Even so, it was several days away. Mal would probably have to walk a decent distance unless he could find some sort of ride. There was always the possibility of finding some other school along the roads: some place he had missed, but his main target was in mind.

Carefully he placed his hand against his chest. The spirit inside was calm at the moment. Well, it was still slightly agitated, but the presence of that man and the relic was enough to put any magical being on edge. So, with his belongings back in order and his strength filled once more he shoved the bloody linens back in the drawer, descended the stairs and bolt towards the exit of town without a second thought. He was just passing through town square when his eyes caught sight of the woman in red from the day before.

He paused for a second. Wherever that girl went he knew for sure that the eye-patched man followed her. He wanted eye-patch man dead. He also wanted to go to the library and figure out what that random guy had been talking about.

His grin faltered only for a second, but the insatiable bloodlust was already twisting his intentions as he sauntered over to the girl.

“My my,” He chuckled, “I didn’t expect that a relic hunter like yourself would stay here overnight. Are you not in a rush?”

He was at full strength this time. His hands were crossed behind his back as he leaned towards Sable.

This time, he would not let them think he was weak.