Five years have passed since the flames of war engulfed the island. It’s scar still runs deep however, scorched farmland, and patches within the forest that have only recently begun to spring new life. Waeldeshore however, had become the heart of the once prosperous and lush land. The years were lenient on the port town. Not kind mind you, but lenient none the less. Despite the harsh toll war had on its economy, many other goods were produced for trade, on top of what Waeldeshore produced itself, mainly it’s cloth and metal wares.

The war forced many who lived outside the town gates to migrate into its fold, bringing in turn, different subcultures, different temples and monasteries. It wasn’t safe for many of them to live outside the security of the port town. Some had been chased out of their homes by demons, some by the effects magic had on some of the animals, making them rabid and hostile. As rare as it was for some of these different faiths to coexist so closely, the current situation of war forced them to settle their differences enough, and keep to their own sides in town. Of course your extremes here and there committed to acts to destroy one another, however they were quickly dealt with by the presiding government of Waeldeshore.

The Gypsies weren’t exactly welcome in town and so they stuck to the outskirts, setting up tents where they could. In attempts to be civil, Lord-Marshal Weyland Sr. had his guards patrol the outlands. He claimed that it was to protect their borders, which most likely was true, though it did benefit the gypsies. The last thing he wanted was another enemy, especially considering the ones he already had and the damage they were doing.

Despite all their efforts to secure the port town, troubles still brewed, both within and outside of the town. And not just because of the war that had nearly destroyed this beautiful island. Just as in any other towns, shady parts do exist. The under patrolled, over ruled by the shadows cast by crime and greed parts, the underground Thieves Guild, led by the one and only Leon Strobe, the Assassin’s Guild, led by Aern Glendale, the Red Bandits who constantly caused troubles for those traveling the road in and out of Waeldeshore. There was one major rule in town, that no matter your background, you were expected to follow - Do not make any trouble. These guilds of course didn’t care much for the rules of the Lord-Marshall. But times were changing, perhaps their reign over the town was coming close to an end.

Within the last two years Lord Marshall Weyland Sr passed his responsibilities onto his son, Weyland Jr. The new Lord Marshall was young, ambitious, smart though perhaps a bit too proud, a bit stubborn and was extremely against the use of the weave, whether for good or bad intentions, it was all the same to him. Since the war, there weren’t many incidents to speak of. It was only within the last month or so have there been sightings of trouble. People suddenly disappearing, demons popping up, extreme weather changes, etc. Some occurrences have been subtle, noticeable only to a few, while others raised concern of even the Lord-Marshall and his council who suspect it all to be the work of Jeltheor. The Lord Marshall has ordered extra guards on duty, extra patrols throughout the town, even a curfew was issued, encouraging all to stay indoors after sundown. But there are whispers of another war erupting. Rumors of an army gathering, with one intention - to set Waeldeshore aflame.

Today’s trade had the streets quite busy. Merchants set up their booths in the town square, just north of the Ugly Mug - Waeldeshore’s most traveled tavern. Beautiful dresses, the island’s finest armor and weapons, rare artifacts - almost anything you could think of, name it and you would most likely find it within the shops. The Ugly Mug was close to the docks, a perfect location for them considering the constant shipments of stock they’d receive. The sun was high in the sky when the boat came in this beautiful afternoon. Today’s order was a rather large one and the streets were busy enough as the stock boys tried to quickly unload and load up their precious stock. The tavern would be packed today as long as they got their jobs done. Just ask someone at the docks and they'd point you in the direction of the best food in the area!

"So anyways, anyways." she avidly told her friend, a mug of ale clasped in one hand with a bit of liquid trickling between two sticky fingers, "Th'nex' day th'firs' mate comes runnin'n down to'th'cap'n's quarters an' he wails, 'Cap'n! Cap'n! They's twenny Imperial sheps on th'orizon! What d'we do?!'" she threw forward her head as she told the joke, preemptively breaking out into her own chuckling and snickering. She had to take a moment to calm down before she could go on, "Righ', righ'. So th'firs' mate asts, 'Should w'git'che yer red shart?' an' th-th--" she broke into another bout of laughter. This joke was always far too funny, "Righ'. So th'cap'n says, 'No lad. Git-- Git me m'brown trousers!'" this earned a roar of laughter at her own joke. She raised her mug and took a drink, sputtering a little from her own amusement.

The day had just begun for the two, but Pip would be damned if she didn’t start off her “morning” without a drink. She wasn’t the type to sleep in, but she also wasn’t the type to run on too little. The redhead had become accustomed to waking at noon every day, enjoying a drink and a good chat, and heading out for their daily work early in the afternoon. She used her free hand to prick more seeds from her eyes. Where did those things keep coming from?

“Anyway, anyway. I know y’must’a ‘eard that’un b’fore, bu’ I swear it don’t make it any less funny. Gimm-Gimmie m’brown trousers. Bloody brilliant!” another gulp of the drink yielded empty. She peered into the cup in disappointment, as if she simply wasn’t seeing the rest of her beverage. When her observation came up fruitless, she set the mug down on the counter,

“Y’finished wit’cher drink, Joey?” the girl inquired, resting her arms against a leg that’d been propped on the stool, “Figger s’a good time t’be ‘eadin’ out?” admittedly, she was always excited. When every day was a party like it was for Pimmy, what wasn’t there to anticipate?

Joseph stared at the barely touched froth that peered over the edge of his own mug. Drinking in the morning, a quirk of Piper's that he'd never adjust to. It just felt so wrong. He quickly took up the excuse of paying attention to another sailing joke, but couldn't help but grin lopsidedly at her enthusiasm regardless. The man pivoted sideways in his seat, his left arm braced on the counter of the bar, while the left took up place on his hip. He knew this one, or one like it. He'd heard every sailor joke a thousand times over. "...Brown trousers." He spoke in sync with her, which at least earned more of a smile, which eventually bubbled into a quiet laugh. Old as these jokes were, Piper's demeanor rarely failed to life his spirits.

"Ha. Only once." He lied. "Most folks tell their jokes to amuse their company, not themselves, y'know." He waggled his brows at her and gave her a prod at the shoulder, before he reclined right back. One leg slipped from his stool as he turned out to face the rest of the tavern. He was growing restless, something his companion had no doubt grown used to over the years. Near every night in the Ugly Mug didn't exactly leave him craving more. The morning crowd was equally disappointing, barren save for a few select, miserable individuals. He hoped they weren't like them. No, he knew they were.

As Piper's empty mug went down, he peered over to her hopefully. He hoped she didn't fancy seconds today. He could barely keep down one in the morning, two dragged him down for a day and half a night over. He flicked a look over to his own drink, only half-touched. "...But I've hardly touched mine." His tone oozed sarcasm, and he gave her a jovial look. When she continued, he bared his teeth in a wry smile. His left hand slapped on the counter, and the man was on his feet but a moment after. "And here I thought we'd have another inside day. Ha! New ships in port, you know what that means." He gave her a knowing look, jerked his head over his shoulder towards the door, then turned on his heel. With Piper presumably in tow, the man slipped out of the entrance. He squinted from the rush of daylight, but how glorious it felt. A sign of good fortune, he thought, today might just be that lucky break he'd waited on.

Swob left, then right, then left again. Xusins hands pushed the mop to and fro about the rancid deck of a fishing boat. A clock bell off in the distance chimmed off, setting the rhythm of her swobbing.

DONG! DONG! DONG! 1-2-3 Left-Right-Left. . This process repeated and drooled on three times. Just after the final chime of the bell counted off noon, Xusin sighed. One pale hand pushed back a lock of silky black hair into her unkempt matt utop her scalp. Whilst she tidied her hair, she leant forward propping her weight upon the mop.

"Jaltheor," she started at the mages name. The name was painfull for her. Merely uttering it reminded her of his sick and powerfull dark magics, which ripped her from the depths of hell and forced her to his subservience. "how much longer until you come back?" She was referring to his promise to return to warldshore. She dreaded the moment and thuslyobsessed over it.

"The humans are strong, but well they fight back?" Just as her mind began to ponder the thought, ITS THE COMPKETE FUCKING OPPOSITE!" The voice was strong, and clearly upset. Xusin turned her head towards the scource, and she transferred her weight from mop to guard rail upon the deck. "Do you know what anti-magic is? Of course you don't. Let me spell it out for you. It is anti-fucking-magic."

Anti-Magic? Her attention was snarred into the quarell immediately. Half her mind woundered if the guards were going to interferre. Oh humans, your passion is amazing. It make apparent why the lord felt to make you in is immage. Xusin stared like a helpless romantic, waiting for the situation to elevate. The opposite of magic. Now I suggest you tell those two guards to fuck off before you piss off the best defense you have against any magic that may or may not be coming this way.

Xusin was suddenly in awe. A man had claimed himself as a defence against magic. I simply must warn him of Jaeltheor's intent! Suddenly the man turned and stormed from his quarell. Instinct led Xusin's hand outwards to reach axross the docks for him. She leaned to far forward however. A breeze glided gently by, swaying the boat ever so slightly. When Xusin shifted ger feet to stay herself, she stepped upon the wet mop, and slipped overboard, letting loose a meek "HEl-" before splashing into the barnicle infested docks, and staining but the smallest circle of ocean warer crimson.
@Elitestpotato

~Maria~

“Ah Paetyr! It’s good to see that you are well!” Maria called from behind the counter to the old man who stepped into her shop. He was short, and walked with a wizened hunch, plodding along in an almost tortoise-like fashion. A long white beard hung from his face in a gentle contrast from his bald head.

“Always puts the pep back into the step, your medicine does,” the old man grunted with a weary grin as he approached the shop counter. “My wife and I don’t know what we would do about our bone aches without you, Maria.” He rubbed his arched back in emphasis.

“Why thank you. I only want to do what I can to help,” Maria replied with a cordial smile. “Now I presume you’re here for the same blend as last week?”

Paetyr nodded. “The war rages on,” he quipped, chuckling a bit.

Maria smiled again, then tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she knelt down behind the counter. She opened a drawer that contained a loose assortment of common herbs, a row of empty cloth pouches, and a very old book. Maria plucked several leaves and tucked them into one of the small bags without measuring the portions - there was no need to. The only herbs she carried were spearmint, rosemary and thyme.

Before she rose from behind the counter, she opened the book, flipped to a page near the beginning, and muttered a quick incantation over the pouch. The leaves within sparkled momentarily, then faded back to their normal appearance. She had cast a spell that caused immediate but temporary relief from pain. Temporary was the key word, as it helped retain customers.

Maria stood up, and handed the pouch to Paetyr, who had already pulled out his coin purse. “Took you a bit longer this time. New stock?” asked the old man as he counted his coins.

“Yes, I just received a shipment from the far north today,” said Maria without hesitation, knowing that the ships had come in this morning. “I just had to reference the compendium to make sure the portions were correct.”

“Ah,” replied Paetyr. He handed her the coins in payment for the pouch. “I’d love to know where you find your herbs. They work so well, it’s almost like magic.”

Maria didn’t miss a beat. “You’re not the first to tell me that, though I appreciate the compliment.”

Paetyr turned to leave, but smiled again, though with a melancholy air. “You keep doing what you’re doing, you hear?”

“Of course. Have a nice day,” Maria called out as the man left. When the door behind him closed, she sighed wistfully. She knew that Paetyr’s son had died in the war, eaten alive by a violent torrent of magic. It felt almost cruel to trick an old man the way she did.

A pitter patter of steps from the upstairs floor signaled that her son had woken up, and moments later, Jason came trudging down the stairs rubbing his eyes and nibbling on a piece of bread.

“Good morning,” Maria greeted her son.

Jason nodded absentmindedly, then headed for the door.

“Ah wait, where do you think you’re going?” Maria asked, caught slightly off guard.

Jason pointed at the door, then walked out of the shop.

“Hey, come back here I--”

The door slammed, then was quickly opened by another customer. Maria huffed in frustration before reapplying a cordial smile as she greeted the dwarf who had just walked in.

~Jason~

As soon as he stepped out of his mother’s shop, Jason surveyed the town square, then headed south. His loose shirt hung lazily around his thin body as his unkempt bed hair drifted over his eyes. He looked rather out of place in the bustle of the town square, where mostly everyone walked with purpose and direction to conduct their business. In contrast, Jason strolled along casual and aloof, almost bumping into people before they noticed him and got out of his way. He continued on without much of a hitch, about to pass The Ugly Mug.

But then he suddenly found his head buried in a doughy bosom and strawberry blonde hair. It reeked of ale.

@Ryciera @Plecy

She trotted along behind her blond friend, chattering eagerly all the while about any little thought that passed her way, "New sheps mean-- course, y'know what they mean." A grin remained plastered on her face as she walked, her tongue occasionally poking through the gap where a tooth had gone missing, "Figger if they's lookin' fer a little d'straction we's got-- well, y'got th'face t'charm any sailor, aye?" she broke into another bark of laughter while she walked, sliding her hands into her pockets. Her gaze floated about the square as the two of them stepped out of the Ugly Mug, surveying vendors in the distance for any sign of loose--

"Oh!" she threw her hands up when someone plowed into her, offering a string of colorful words, before reaching to grab at his arms. Street urchin. Pickpocket. He had to be, "Oi'yo, Joey!" she leaned down a little, trying to keep a solid grip on the boy before her, "Y'see this? S'a chil'e!" her gaze briefly flicked to her blond friend, then back to Jason. She was wary of spontaneous children out of nowhere. Kids had an easier time at this than people Piper's age.

(( @Plecy @Strafe ))

"Prettier one than they'll ever see, I'll gladly wager." Joey confirmed with something of a pose, tilting his chin up. The man's lips twitched up at the corners with the joke, then just as quickly as he turned to her, he flicked back to face the market. Busy, very busy. He half extended a gloved hand, pointing with a middle and forefinger to a pair of city guards-- Only trouble, he thought. "See them, sneaksby? Can't work here, no matter how good ya' think y'are." He knew he'd have to voice caution, that had become something of his job over the years... That and he knew the boats held more profit, and damned be the risk for those riches. "Y'focus too much on what you need, not what you want. Boats'll be stuffed from aft to prow, believe m--"

And like a startled animal, his attention was wrought from his scheming, boots scraping along the cobbles of the street like nails to a chalkboard as he whipped around. His lips parted, but remained tilted upwards at the corners, and he too descended on the poor boy. He reached to grab at his shoulder and, with any luck, pull him back to stand between him and his stocky companion. "Haha! Kid's barely outta' the crib!" Clearly, he didn't see much threat in the child, what good were they, anyway? "Bold try'a luck." He cocked his head at Piper, focusing on her now, though still aimed to keep the boy held. "And did our bold tyro get anything from ya'?" And, for effect, he tried to give the boy's shoulder a light jolt, though no doubt he would be taking this far worse were he the intended target.

(( @Ryciera @Strafe ))

The shopkeeper trembled as Edict yelled and cursed. He meant no harm by his question, and was only curious. He’d seen magic artifacts in town before, in fact at some of the other shops even. But the town's defense? What in the world did he mean? As the man trotted off, the shopkeeper shrugged and went back to the his shop, his gaze moving over to the crowd. With any luck, the angry man didn’t scare any other customers away.



Despite the hustle and bustle of the town, nothing was out of place. The Lord Marshall glanced about quickly and he took count of the guards he had stationed through the area and nodded with approval. Hopefully any newcomers would get the idea that trouble was not welcome here in his town. He nodded again, a signal to the captain of the guard, before moving away from the square and back to the northern edge of town where he had business to tend to.



She awoke to the noise of a clocktower. The boat had been docked already for a few hours, but she was in desperate need of sleep and no one seemed to notice her still on the boat. She slept with her axe firmly planted in her hands, perhaps that was why no one bothered her.

Strapping it firmly to her back, she continued to fix herself up enough to greet the world she had stumbled upon. Slowly and cautiously she wandered off the boat and onto the docks. She pulled her hood back slightly, gazing at the wonders that were Waeldeshore. There were shore men yelling orders, still pulling shipments off the dozens of boats that were docked. The street shops seemed busy and the square was quite crowded. She counted the number of guards positioned on the docks and throughout the square. “What are they expecting, a siege?” she muttered to herself, a smirk edging its way on her lips. She checked herself before hopping into the street, patting her pockets and pouches, her fingers gliding slowly over the hilt of the dagger stationed on her belt. “All ready to explore the heavily guarded town” again muttering to herself as her gaze drifted over the crowd.

There was a man yelling at a shopkeeper, something about ‘anti magic’ … “note to self - stay away from him”, a splash in the water as someone fell nearby. Elsewhere in the square, a pretty boy and what seemed to be a short one were picking on a little boy, “tsk tsk” she shook her head slowly. She pulled a flask from a hidden pocket, and quickly took a sip and put it away. She tugged her hood back over her face and decided to meander through the crowd, hoping no one would notice her. Who in the world would notice the woman covered head to toe in dark leathers and cloths?!

~Jason~

Though the expression on his face didn’t show it, Jason panicked. Jerked back and shaken by a pair of arms much stronger than his, Jason peered an eye up through his long brown hair. The woman was scary, and reminded him of some of the more unsavory characters he had read about in his book of tales. He turned his head back. The man looked… he looked like…

He looked like the great hero Sir Joffridus! The valiant knight who swam across the ocean of doom, survived the pit of ten thousand serpents, and defeated the mighty seven headed demon bear-wolf to rescue princess Grellica!

Jason blankly stared at the man, blinking several times in amazement. His blonde hair! His dark blue eyes! The rings and the necklace that showed his prestige! His eyes fixated on the beads in his hair. He had read that Sir Joffridus wore beads just like them!

"Oi'yo, Joey! Y'see this? S'a chil'e!"

Jason’s mouth fell open. Surely Joey was short for Joffridus! Jason impulsively jumped up in amazement. In a feat of strength that did not seem appropriate for his slight build, he broke the man’s hold on him, ran into his torso and embraced him.

Sir Joffridus was real!

But why was he with such a scary woman? He peered back at Joffridus’ companion quizzically.

@Ryciera @Plecy

Tirarrian stepped off the measley ship she had arrived on and inhaled. Hmmmm! The lovely smell of sweaty sailors and slowly rotting fish in the midday sun. "Wow." she thought to herself "I take me to some lovely places."

Shouldering her heavy crossbow and with an adjust of her hat, the Gnome set off down the dock to the port authorities. She went back over in her head the various ingredients she would need to acquire from the marshland on the far side of the 'island'. Her brisk walk and thinking was interrupted, however, by a high pitched yelp and a loud splash.

When she arrived at the scene various sailors and other unsavoury types had gathered round, mostly to laugh. Tirarrian could see why. Sailors never react politely to such well dressed individuals, let alone those who had fallen into the water.

Tirarrian pushed her way past various sets of legs to the front of the crowd

Joseph never thought to hold the child too tightly, the amount of slack in his arm as he shifted on his feet was more than apparent. Children weren't a threat, he thought. Though like plenty of the man's underestimations, it was a damning one. Not even a second after his string of mockery and questions, he was jolted at the shoulder as the child jumped. A runner, surely, he barely had time to think. If a child had one talent, it was escaping the clutches of another. His hand snatched downwards to try to catch the slippery boy, but only pawed through the air. "Little--"

And thump, the boy ran straight into him. Ha! A novice and a fussock, he thought at first, before an entirely different assessment came about as he felt arms wrap around his waist. The gall of the lad! To try with him, right here? For a moment, he stood rigid upright, arms raised as if somebody had just poured a bucket of ice water down his shirt. He admittedly didn't have an immediate reaction for a move so brazen, but he'd long got the idea in his head that this boy was a thief, no question. "Hey--Hey! Off off off!" And his arms descended, aiming to pry between himself and the child's arms in a wild attempt to dislodge him. Without thinking, the man might have given more push than necessary, though likely not enough to topple the boy.

Just what sort of game was this lad playing? Should he have pried the child away, his hands, in a routine that looked just a bit too practiced, darted around his waistline, touching at every little trinket, oddity, or pouch that laid along the leather belt there. Coinpurse, check. Sword, check. Everything was bizarrely in place, and he looked upon the boy with an apparent sense of perplexion, though he kept his hands protectively at his waist, apprehensive. He gave Piper a bewildered look-- Definitely not the first one she'd seen from him, though snapped back to the child quickly after. "If this is a game, then neither'a us are playing!" His tone held let off uncertainty, though with a blink and a shake of his head, he cut to the chase. "None'a that. Think you owe the two'a us an explanation. And make it good, guards ain't kind t' thieves."

@Ryciera @Strafe

Milady, are you alright?

Micheal! I wasnt aware that you were concerned for my well being! Im flattered. Xusin was back in the heavenly realm, in the hall of justice. They were trying an angel for treason itself. Xusin was staring blankly at some parchment in her hand. Who is that??? Xusin stared at the blurry figure on trial.

Milady, are you alright?

Micheal im fine. You really shouldnt press. I recieved a prick from my quill is all. Xusin extended one hand forward to show him, and to her surprise, a barnacle was protruding. Huh? Michael what is this?

Milady, are you alright? suddenly Xusin was on a wooden floor soaked with salt water. The sun was bearing down on her blurring out her vision. Suddenly feint of breath, Xusin became frightened. Michael? Michael? What going on? He--

Xusin was coughing up salt water now. Milady, are you alright? Michael too was but a blurr against the sun now. Then one great cough escaped Xusin, spraying water up at Michael. Her injured hand clasped about the blurred outline of his divine robes. Slowly her vision came clear, yeildin sight of not an arch angel, but instead a muscular human, with brown hair and a strange scar. Her hands remained loftly against his chest. His beard was speckled with water that se had coughed up.

Xusin struggled for a few silent seconds to regain coordination. Milady, Are you alright? Xusin starred up to the man for several moments, admiring the beauty and helpfullness of humans. Above all else though, she admired his sense of empathy, to feel what others are feeling as if the feelings were ones own. She had to stop herself, as her hand lifted to brush his cheek in admiration. She had never been so close to a human.

Eventually, Xusin realized what she was doing and changed paces, to cover up her actions. She feigned a cough and redirected her hand from the man's face to cover her mouth. *COUGH COUGH* Im *cough* ugh I'm *cough* Im fine, I am fine. she closed her bloodied hand to hide the barnacle lodged in it. Suddenly she wasnt in heaven, but rather on the docks of waeldshore.

Xusin turned a flush red, and scooted back a bit nervously. Everyone was watching her. Sailors, merchants, hell even a gnome had eyes upon her! She didnt want oe need the attention....

Tirarrian bustled past the crowd, shoving legs aside "Excuse me, excuse me! I'm an apothecary!"

Finally reaching the front of the crowd, she slipped a small hand into her pouch and pulled out a bunch of dark brown herbs. Putting the dainty ladies head on the Gnomes small lap, she lit the bunch of herbs and put them up to this ladies nose as they started smoking

"Breathe deep, it will make you feel better."

Tirarrian became acutely aware of this ladies pitch black eyes, and felt surprisingly perturbed

Next Tirarrian addressed the armoured man.

"She didn't breathe in any water, did she?"

Xusin was suddenly on the spot. The man before her, or more apropriately, the hunter before her had gotten rid of most of the crowd, but now he was talking to her. That was only natural considering she just woke up spraying water on him, but it set her in unease none the less. I uh... Im.. Xusin struggled with words. Her fingers fiddled about the dock looking for a life ring of sorts. What she found was far different. She found the handle of a broken glass mug.

I must be going. I have to give this back. Xusin looked back and forth between the man and the gnome hopin that one o them would give her enough space to run inside the safety of the tavern. She was scared and cornered. She had only wanted a look at this man, and now she was all too close. Furthermore, there was that pause in his scentence...

The man's words echoed loudly in her head. The... Hunter. He didnt say what he hunted... It left just the earie sense that he meant her. Xusin turned a sharper red.

~Jason~

Joffridus didn’t seem too happy when Jason embraced him.

"Hey--Hey! Off off off!"

The valiant warrior pushed Jason off of himself, almost sending him tumbling to the ground. Jason was startled, but realized that Joffridus probably had world saving to do, and didn’t want to be distracted.

"If this is a game, then neither'a us are playing!"

True. A mighty hero didn’t have time to play silly games.

"None'a that. Think you owe the two'a us an explanation. And make it good, guards ain't kind t' thieves."

Jason shrugged. Not like he could say anything to diffuse the situation… oh wait!

Jason rummaged around his pockets and pulled out his half eaten bread, which had tracked quite a bit of lint and fuzz on it. He lifted it up to Joffridus with reverence. A luxurious gift for the dashing champion!

@Plecy @Ryciera

Tirarrian held the smoking bundle of herbs closer to the ladies face.

"Breathe deep, it will give you more energy."

"So... Where exactly are you from M'lady?"
The armoured man said to her.
"And what's your name M'lady?"

I uh... Im.. was all she could stutter out before she held up some sort of broken glass
I must be going. I have to give this back

Tirarrian laughed. "No, silly. You have to stay here and rest for a moment. I'm sure our friend here can drop that off and come back."
The Gnome observed the blood pooling around her hand onto the sopping boardwalk. "Could you open your hand, for a moment?"

@notdeadyet@Elitestpotato