If she wanted to stay awake, that was her own business. But when he decided it was time to sleep, he wasn’t going to be waking for a while. "The half elf returns." Kelvin nodded in thanks. It was good to have a bit of warning, not that he would have put more than two crossbow bolts on anyone who jumped them, right at the moment. That girl was interesting, seeming to have multiple voices speaking for her at any one time. Personally though, if he had to choose one it would be the more dominant one. It seemed accustomed to giving out orders- not a trait he prefered, but the voice was practical and could hold up a conversation. He would have to see if he could draw it out more often for conversation, no offense to the poor girl it was speaking through.

The scarred rogue appeared, carrying a child. Not a great development, but she could be useful. Old enough to do basic tasks at least, and to learn. Kelvin left them to talk to the oracle, instead choosing to do some more work on the shelter, until the gnome awoke.”I wouldn't mind some practical help, I suppose.” Kelvin looked at the crooked arm and grimaced. ”It won’t feel pretty for me to set it though. I am no doctor, so I will just have to straighten by feel.” He paused for a moment, and felt his own arm up and down, looking intent. It was an odd idea. He knelt next to the small man and carefully felt the arm. If the little guy was moving about with it, he must have decent pain tolerance. ”Start when I tell you, not before- and please don’t light me on fire.” On a burst of inspiration, he picked up a stick and offered it to the poor guy, mimicking biting it with his teeth. Kelvin turned back to the arm and felt gently above and below the break, then suddenly tightened his grip, twisting the arm just slightly and bracing his body against any possible thrashing. ”Now.”

Kelvin chose to look away from this particular event. Even as a man who had seen fingers crushed in gears and blown apart bits of partners, some memories were best left uncatalogued in ones brain. Other thoughts were better. Such as about Separ. Kelvin winced. It was really a shame. He hadn’t anything against him or that hooded girl, though he didn't trust her looks. Survival was the main thing for now.

(For Alula, happens prior to Carver)

Khat looked to the ground and scuffed her boots in the dirt, the floating person was really nice and she could sense the warmth of hair kindness radiating off of her, ‘or is that the warmth of her glow?’ she wasn’t sure but she felt warmth.

“What girl?” she asked, looking past Alula with even more interest, tilting her head at her before reaching up to tighten her bandana, “You’re here aren’t you? at least you look like you are here, its all relative, to me you are here and to someone else you might be there, but to me you are here, so what other girl must there be?” For a very long time, Khat had been blabbering about things that people didn’t really understand, or interpreted as the babble of a child, Relativity was one of them and she felt like she was on to something despite the critics of the adults.

When the knight, Carver, knelt to look at Khat, she squirmed and promptly hugged Vis' leg tighter, making him meep. "Momma told me not to trust a man in armor." Blurted Khat, as her mind was taken back to the first weeks she worked with her mother. A knight of some minor lord had barged into the bakery with his gaggle of squires and demanded free cake for all of them, her mother told them to get out but instead they got violent, smashing up furniture and threatening to do the same for her. Momma finally relented and gave them what they wanted and Khat watched on as the men filed out, laughing and eating her mother's hard work. Then a the knight touched her mother's chest and she ran into the kitchen to cry, though at that young age she didn't know what had happened, she had an idea of what it meant now. She clutched onto Vis' legs more, and Vis put his hand on her shoulder.

"He'th noth a knighth, he ith a paladin." Said Vis reassuringly, squeezing her shoulder gently to comfort her.

"I don't care," she retorted, glaring at the armored man, "he's wearing armor."

Vis frowned beneath his scarf but shrugged the frown away, instead he looked up at the sky and squinted, the sun was setting and throwing it's dying colors out into the sky in a chromatic spectical of oranges, reds and purples. Khat followed his eyes and yawned, it was getting late and she usually slept by nightfall, falling asleep in the kitchen after kneading the next day's dough. She looked up at Vis, "Can I sleep?" Vis nodded and thought about a place where she could bed for the night, looking around, he saw a willow tree with a large branch jutting into the clearing, Vis picked her up and approached the tree, holding her like a baby. He ascended the willow until he reached the branch, finding a a wide divot in it where he then placed the child, Vis looked around and was satisfied she wouldn't fall, anyway, the tree wasn't that tall. 

"I'll be back, gonna clean up." Vis climbed back down and asked the group, "ith thare a thtream near here?"

Furnace didn't get the idea of biting on wood. Wood wasn't food. He tried that. But as Kelvin held his arm right. And what felt like surges of negative energy ran trough his arms, he noticed he was gritting his teeth. The wood was a safeguard? This guy was really smart.

When Kelvin gave the signal Furnace concentrated and forced another golden white coil from his hands to dance along his arm.
The sparks sank into the flesh and they both heard the unsettling sound of setting bones. Like wet leather being strained against a hollow tree.

A few sparks missed their mark and jumped up Kelvins fingers instead. Immediately clearing out diminutive cuts amd bruises on his working hands.

"Thmph yuth."
Furnace spit out the stick.
It had deep bitemarks in it.
"Thank you."
He stretched his arms. He felt a little sore, but the pain was banished and he noticed a strong feeling of relief.

He looked around. The structure was unclear in it's function. But appeared well built regardless.
"How can I aid you in return?"

Alula looked over at the child, still hiding behind Vis as she spouted some strange nonsense. Well. At least the kid was curious. And yet the oracle knew that an illiterate child from a poor village wouldn't be able to understand a higher standard of magic, and she didn't really have the patience left to talk to the child.

"The girl is here, and yet not. She does not need to concern herself in problems that might cause her harm."

Alula looked down upon Carver, her flashing eyes displaying anger.

"Yes, but all Knights of the sun are rather unbecoming."

Her face contorted again, from anger to defiance and back to anger. An internal struggle, and argument with herself.

"do not be so cruel to him. All Paladins are dangerous. he protects us. Yes but for how long. His love of the sun will soon overshadow his protection. the incident was not his fault. It should not take an entire squadron of Paladins to 'guard' a village."

Alula shuttered, repressing voices. She put a hand to her forehead, her light fading for a moment.

She watched as Vis put the child up the in tree, finding it odd that he would choose that as a place to put her to bed. She only hoped that someone bought tents before the town burned. And she only hoped no one would insist on sleeping with her.

The child's reaction wasn't one that Carver was entirely unused to. Armor was a mark of power, and power was all too often abused at the detriment of the poor. Likely, this child or her mother had had some bad experience with a thuggish hedge knight or minor lord - perhaps Carver might pay said men a visit, when the matter at hand was attended to.

Another voice from his past. "We do not make them love us, Carver. The Sun loves all, and asks for nothing in return. So must we."

He smiled at her again as she was lifted to the tree. "I will keep watch, child. You will be safe."

He turned, his smile fading as he heard Alula speaking. She was still in the bizarre state she'd entered into during the battle, seemingly at war with herself over everything she said. However, most of her disjointed statements seemed to have a single theme - she was displeased with the knight.

He frowned. "My lady, if I have offended you, I offer my most sincere apologies. It is not my intention to threaten, nor to displease. And if you take issue with my faith, then... this need not be a matter of conflict between us. The Sun teaches us to understand, not to convert. If you are no longer desirous of my protection or my company, then you may release me from my vows, and I will depart without incident." He paused. "I... am glad to see you well. I did not stay close enough to you - I feared that that enemy spellcaster may have harmed you, after I was almost hit from behind by some spell."

Carver straightened his back and turned on his heels to walk away. "I will keep watch for the rest of our party. You all should rest. We will decide our next move when we are all gathered."

It should not take a squad of Paladins to protect a village. He would do better.

(For your listening pleasure)

Alula watched as Carver spoke to the child, glad that at least someone had some sort of skills with childcare, and yet she still had her angry expression when he spoke to her. This man was clearly trying to talk down on her, trying to demean her. And then an expression of confusion. Why was this paladin so kind to her? Why was he so different from the others?

His vows. He was still holding strong to his vow, even after seeing what she was and what she had become. He didn't understand, he couldn't understand. But perhaps that didn't matter. He took a pause in his speech, and she looked into his eyes. Her eyes were illuminated and unblinking. Why was he so kind?

He was glad to see she was well. He was afraid that something had hurt her, while it was him who was in danger of the attack. He was not the danger, she was. Something snapped in her. Voices screaming to overpower each other. Arguments and battles within her mind. But as Carver turned away a single voice broke through, a weak and slurred voice.

"Y...yes...a rest...would be...nice..."

Alula slowly reached out her hand, fingers extended as if to grab him. Her eyes flickered, like faulty lighting, before finally fading out. Bright lights again replaced with hazy blue eyes. A soft burst of light.

"I am...so tired..."

Alula fell to the ground.

Furnace was staring at the sunset as he heard a thud behind him.
He saw Alula lie down in the dirt. Confused he looked at the others, most seemed to either pay no mind or looked concerned. He remembered how he had been wrapped in a large blue cloth when he fell asleep. This was no doubt custom. So he chose not to ask questions and act as if he knew this was normal.

He threw the cloth over her and rolled her in it. She seemed unhurt, so giving her some positive energy would only wake her. She did claim she wanted rest right? He could help her with that too... He toyed with ideas of experimentation while he glared at his hand where a diminutive black spark danced eagerly.
It would help her sleep... But it would probably hurt... Furnace decided against it. At least until he found the taster of smiles.

In the end he just dragged the cloth coccoon over to Kelvin.
"You seem to have a plan regarding shelter? Where should she be?"

The sound of the arm repairing itself was going to haunt him. Good thing he didn’t plan on much rest tonight. It was surprising that the durable gnome was willing to help afterword, but he would take it. Kelvin rocked back on his heels. ”Separ hasn’t come back yet… give me some time to think.” He smiled in a way that he hoped was reassuring.

Kelvin sat by himself a bit farther from the others, ignoring the drama of various people working out their social differences. They had a bit bigger issue on hand. That army. It had swept away the town with little trouble, other than the small group they had here, which was more than unfortunate. A show of unnecessary force like that had two possible meanings; this was an intimidation technique, or this was a campaign. Being that the raider’s were mostly goblin… it looked closer to a campaign. Which put all of them directly in the path of it. They weren’t really far enough from town to be completely safe either.

Kelvin was still deep in thought when the gnome carried over a bundle. It was a bit comical to see. ”I have been thinking.” He motioned for him to put the oracle down, close to where the gnome and Carver had been laying. ”I have the gear to put a tiny shelter up, but it won't fit all of us... but besides that, I am not sure we should spend the night here.” Kelvin gestured back towards town, the smoke and blood could easily be smelt, and the black clouds made the sunset all the more bloody. ”It isn't safe to stay so close. It would only take one enemy wandering about to spot us us.” Kelvin lightly tapped his crossbow absentmindedly. ”And besides that, they will be moving on eventually. I think we should wait for darkness, take some time to rest, and head for the next town. A force that big will be slower than our group, so with some effort we can warn the next town down the road.” If they didn't, then this horde might spread from town to town, eliminating them so fast there were few survivors to spread the warning.

"There are more places like this?"
Furnace blurted out in response while he carefully aranged Alula next to their stuff as directed.

"And you don't desire this harvesting to happen there as well.."
He frowned as he spoke slowly. It was clear he understood on some level. But not why.
"So I take it we aren't returning there for the friend collector, that girl and all the wonderfull crafting materials strewn about? Then why even have a harvesting?"

Separ frowned a little bit at the girls words. Sure he really wanted everyone to be fine, but would they? For now all Separ could do was hope that Carver, Kelvin, and all the others had come through. "I really hope they're okay." For a moment Separ and the girl sat in silence for a few minutes before Separ tried to stand up almost falling over in the process. While he had gained a little bit of his energy back, he still would be practically useless in a fight. Remembering he was wearing a backpack he took it off and laid it on the ground and pulled out two tents. Handing one towards the girl he began to ask her "Would you like to stay here for the night? I think I can walk, but it's getting pretty late. What would you prefer to do in this situation? I also have a medical kit in my backpack by the way, so we could always heal ourselves up before dark." Sure Separ did not know the girl very well, but he trusted her. She didn't seem like a bad person after all, especially when she herself practically sacrificed her life when she fell down from over-exerting herself.

Carver crept through the forest with as much stealth as he was able to muster, which was to say, none at all. Had any goblins been in earshot, they probably could have heard the clanking of his armor from quite a distance away - however, it seemed the sun was smiling on him, and no foes produced themselves.

A brief moment later, the knight had another stroke of luck. In another small clearing, Separ and the witch sat in a half-unconscious pile. Carver was immediately gladdened to see Separ well - for a moment, he'd almost despaired for the young man's life.

The witch, although, was another matter entirely. Carver had been half of the mind that she was part of the attack in some fashion, but her current condition seemed to belie that. She looked half-dead; pale, sallow, and exhausted. If this was the result of her summoning some magical force to aid in the fight, then perhaps his initial reaction to her had been unfair, whatever she was.

"Separ! ... Other lady!" He called out to them as he entered the clearing, in the loudest whisper conceivable. "It's good to see you safe! The others are together, they're nearby. Are you able to walk? I can carry one of you."

Vis turned away from the clearing and walked towards the burning sun, it's light peaking out from between the gaps in the canopy as he ventured out for a stream or a pond of some sort. The further he got from the camp, he felt an indescribable feeling, it was a mixture of relief and heartache.

Soon he had stumbled upon a small pond, fed by 3 trickling streams and hidden by the forest canopy, looking around to ensure he wasn't being followed, he began unbuckling his armor. Once the leather plates dropped off his body, he took off his under clothes and tossed them into a pile next to the bank, so he stood naked by the water. Slowly he slipped in, first sitting down then slowly levering himself into the cool pond using his arms but as he got into the pond, he found that from where the land met the water, it was a vertical sloap downwards for about 3 and a half feet. Vis stood in the water for a moment, to get use to the temperature, before submerged himself completely and opened his eyes, casting a green glow in the dusty water. Small fish swam around, eating the green that grew at the bottom, oblivious to Vis or his light. He emerged from the water and returned to the bank, resting his head on his folded arms and letting the rest of his body float. He decided he'd rest before washing his gear.

Separ quickly turned to see Carver and smiled at his presence. "Carver, you're alive. I'm glad to see you." Separ put the tents back into his backpack and strapped it on to himself. "I think I can walk, but the girl fell down earlier, so maybe you should carry her. I also have some supplies we could use, including a tent and a medkit." Separ started to walk towards Carver only to stop and stare at the ground. "How..., how many died?" Separ's voice was shaky as he asked, not because he was tired, but rather because he was scared of what the answer would be. Perhaps Carver and maybe only a few others survived? Did the whole town die? Kelvin, the disfigured man, the little gnome, the girl who had healed him, "Phoenix". Just how many were still alive? Were the others injured just as bad as I am? Thought Separ as he slowly walked over to Carver. All Separ could do was silently hope for a good outcome.

Tearing flesh, screams of agony, clanking weapons and clattering teeth. Silence.

Hazy blue eyes shot open, cutting the gruesome dreams of the oracle short. She glanced rapidly around the tent she had been placed in, trying to remember what had happened up until this point.

Alula attempted to move, but found that everything was burning and aching. It felt like every vein in her body had been set alight. She groaned softly, forcing herself to sit up through the pain. But she found she was still constructed, she had been wrapped in a blanket. That's odd. The girl ungracefully squirmed her way out of the blanket, wincing every time she had to move. But if she didn't get up now she might never move again.

Her head hurt. A lot. Voices were talking, softly but still there. They were trying to explain what had happened. Her mind felt fuzzy. She remembered agreeing to join a group of adventurers, and then something had happened. Something bad. The rest was blurs. She rubbed her eyes, wanting to pull down her hat. The voices told her that it was long gone, buried beneath the ruins of the burned town, soon to be found by looters.

The cloth that the half-elf Vis had given her lost as well. Tucked up into the rim of her hat for safekeeping. And her staff, that was likely in the field where she collapsed. Collapsed. Somehow she had been broken from her trance. That had never happened before.

The paladin. The paladin. She was silently panicking. Why couldn't she remember his name? She had to remember. A calm voice echoed through her head, shoving other voices aside.

"Carver. Ser Carver. He was the one."

Another grunt as she attempted to stand up, her crippled leg buckling out from under her. With bitter determination Alula got to her feet, leaning all of her weight on her good leg. She looked out of the tent, keeping her eyes cast downward. The sun was setting and she needed to get away.

Carver put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Do not, my friend. Down that path lies madness. There will come a time to mourn for the fallen and commend their souls to the heavens, but now we must turn our minds to those that may still be saved."

The paladin bent down and hoisted the witch none-too gently over his shoulder. "Such as those waiting for us, for example. Kelvin, Alula, the gnome and the half-elf are nearby - I have not seen Rose in some time."

Carver turned, and began carrying the witch back to camp.

”Yeah, a lot more places.” Kelvin grimaced and stirred some leaves with his foot. ”If the ‘harvesting’ happens everywhere, there will be no where left to harvest.” He turned, laying down. Maybe he would take a rest. Kelvin continued talking, his eyes closed. ”They might not be alive anymore. As for the rubble and corpses… they were harvested by someone else. When selfish people want other people’s possessions, they take them by force. Harvesting is bad when you take things that other people have, that is why we trade gold for things we want.” He opened his eyes to watch Carver move into the woods, noting the elf’s absence. That left him alone with the two that needed watched. Luckily, the gnome didn’t seem likely to wander, and the oracle was passed out near him.

”If you go back, they will harvest you too.” His voice had dropped to a low murmur. ”Heroism is for the brave.” Kelvin had drifted to sleep, propped slightly against the tree with his crossbow in his lap.

Furnace listened intensely to the explanation.
He couldn't wrap his mind around how the harvesting would be less effective if the materials were held by other beings.
The line ”Heroism is for the brave.” held no meaning to him, but before he could ask Kelvin had fallen asleep.

Muttering under his breath he repeated his words.
”If you go back, they will harvest you too.”
He though he understood. If he was harvested, he might become too damaged.
The voice had warned about that. So it was something he didn't want?
Was it important what he and others wanted? Was he free because he wanted to be?

Disturbed from his thoughts when he heard someone struggle with cloth he looked around.
He saw a distressed Alula clamber out of the cloth structure they had build around her.
Her eyes aimed at the distance, she was going somewhere.
Carefully he obstructed her path.
”If you go back, they will harvest you too. Heroism is for the brave.”

Alula looked around the open field again before hobbling her way out of the makeshift tent. Vis and Carver were nowhere to be seen, as well as the hooded girl and the punching man. She glanced over towards Kelvin, who seemed to be falling asleep. Perfect. No one would be there to stop her. She nearly tripped trying to get out of the tent, cursing in a strange language as her bad leg took most of the fall. This wasn't going to work. Staff first. And then leave.

She struggled ungracefully towards the middle of the field, where she had dropped her staff. But it was slow moving, and she had forgotten to account for one of their companions. The gnome. She was just about to reach her staff when he suddenly appeared in front of her, blocking her path. She growled impatiently, wishing she had her hat to pull over her eyes.

Harvesting? What the stars did he mean? A voice calmed her confusion, explaining that the strange gnome was referring to the destruction of the town as harvesting, as well as the fighting and death that occurred there. Must be a gnome thing. She took a stumbling step backwards, hair falling in front of her eyes but not blocking out their slight, weak, glow. She looked up at the setting sun, frowning.

"Hero's don't die, not before the story starts."

She looked down at the gnome, her voice weak and straining.

"Night is...coming...and I don't...want to...hurt anyone..." She shook her head, frustrated that she was having trouble portraying what she wanted to say. "Night is...unpredictable...I have to...go."

The chirp of a nearby grasshopper woke him from his nap, Vis yawned, opening up his maw and stretching the scar on the side of his face. Vis looked up at the sky and the sun's light was al but gone, only a few slivers of purple left, 'not long left till the stars come out.' he thought to himself as he got to work, picking each armored section form the pile and cleaning it. Vis found out that the inside of his armor was as dirty as the outside, it was covered in grime, dust and dirt plastered onto the leather by his sweat. Vis scraped this off with a stone and cleaned off the dried blood that was caked on some the pieces. He would have to get some of the segments repaired, one had a hole from the arrow and another had a long gash in it from where he was sliced by the raider's sword.

Once done, and after he caught some of the small catfish that swam at the bottom of the pond, Vis slipped on his under clothes and decided to hold out on the armor as it dried. His under clothes consisted of a white tunic and black trousers, simple enough for it's simple purpose, to stop chafing. Vis strolled through the forest back to the camp, a bunch of fish impaled on a stick in his hand.

Up in the tree, Khat was having a nightmare, her nose was filled with the pungent oder of blood and outside of her dark crate she heard laughter. The crate opened, but instead of finding the bewildered Blue-Green eyes of Vis, she looked into the malicious grin of a raider, he reached for her throat and she screamed. Khat sat bolt upright, waking with a whimper that she quickly stifled, during her sleep she had soaked herself in a cold sweat and her pale face was even paler. She undid her head wrap and her cascading hair fell from it, matted with sweat, she climbed down.

"I need a drink." she mumbled as she passed the gnome and the floaty lady, more to herself then to them.