Rozalind made her smile, though Gemma couldn’t imagine what she might have done to get on Twain’s bad side. It didn’t seem like Twain even had a bad side. Either way, she was looking forward to meeting her when the time came, though hopefully TIGER’s help would be unnecessary. She couldn’t help being relieved that they wouldn’t disappear like MOON did, though. To have someone on backup like that was reassuring.

Hoping that they would be able to drive right up to whatever horrific locale that they were going to be exploring was just wishful thinking, of course. It wasn’t long before they were heading out to the site of the event on foot, and oh, how Gemma hated it. Her headache and the sticky dread festering in her gut were just complimented by the bitter cold, icy thin air. Progress was slow, mostly held back by her, probably, but she refused all help that Icarus offered her. Who- or whatever had forced her to climb a god damn mountain when she was being pelted by god only knows what kind of occult crap while she was in the middle of her first serious investigation in her first serious job was going to get it when they finally got to that plume of smoke. As long as she didn’t freeze to death first.

As soon as Gemma saw the creepy castle in the distance, she knew that that had to be the source. She wasn’t even being influenced by the movies she’d watched as a kid; the power emanating from it was so strong that her fingers went numb at the tips, and not from the cold. She’d stuffed her mittens with hand warmers. The numbness was definitely a side effect of the event.

“I can’t just wait here!” Gemma protested at Twain’s suggestion. She’d come all this way, and to be left out when the real investigation began… “I feel fine, Twain, I swear. We have backup on its way and I’ll… I’ll freeze to death if I just sit here!” She felt like Zesiro, complaining like this. But it was true!

Gemma

"Okay then go with Ic... he's gone isn't he?" Twain sighed.

"Yep." Zesiro shrugged.

"Stick with Zes then. Call me if you guys need me. Gemma get your gun!" Twain winked and headed off into the snow followed by the three teammates who had tagged along up the mountain.

Zesiro rolled his eyes. "Great." He hefted his backpack and readjusted his radio receiver. "Let's go." He headed in a general southern direction...

The monk dismissed Herbert's aggravation with a wave and a smile "No need to appologize friend, it takes more than that to ruffle this monks feathers. This cold will take its toll on anyone if we're out here long enough."

Dimitri smiled warmly as the small female drew up on him. He had thought she just looked small because of the distance between them but evidently, he was wrong. No real suprise there. "Well you're a tiny thing aren't you?" he commented as he extended his hand introduced himself as Dimitri. Spareing Herbert the awkwardness of another introduction he pointed over towards thel older man "Thats Herbert over there"

The monks eyes narrowed as he noticed the feathers on the girl's back. He reached for one and gently tugged at it "Did you know that you have feathers stuck to you dear? how curious! Oh my, they are stuck on there good. Did you use glue?" he released the feathers with a smile. If she wanted to pretend she was a bird that was ok with him he had seen and done far stranger things in his time.

He glanced back towards Herbert who was picking his way through the mess of the room and heading towards a flight of steps that lead down into a hopefully intact castle. "Listen" he said turning back to the girl "That room back there is a mess...blood and gore everywhere, but it seems the only way to shelter is down those steps Herebert is heading towards. I don't knwo about you, but I am growing quite weary from holding this dreadful cold at bay, so I'm heading that way too." He flicked his hed towards Herbert then continued "you're welcome to join us if you like. I'm sure there will be some kind of shelter below and maybe we can all figure out how to gt off this cursed mountain."

A deep sigh escaped Herbert’s lips, clouding, winding off with the wind. It was good to know he had not upset the Dmitri; in the brief duration of their acquaintance Herbert had formed the impression that he was a rather genuine and warm-hearted man, who took pleasures in simples things, like good beer and raucous laughter. People of such quality were rare indeed, a saddening truth, that Herbert had come to accept, which is why he savoured meeting them so much in passing. Rather, he used to; he didn’t tend to get about much in recent times, regrettable, but necessary.

“You are a good man.”

Now the small figure had drawn into view Herbert could fully appreciate the fragility of person before him; a slight frame and spindly limbs, all the more accentuated by her tight fitting legwear. That she didn’t blow away was a surprise in itself.

He raised his hand in an awkward gesture, somewhere between a wave and a salute, when Dmitri introduced him. Some of the colour drained slightly from his face when he saw the wings upon her back. If angels were condemned, what hope had he? She was not as Herbert had expected angels to be, and it was possible she was not; she would be by far one of the most humanoid creatures he had seen on the icy capped rocks. However, in all the jumble of theories and thoughts in Herbert’s mind, he could not disregard that he may have died, for he knew not what lay beyond the veil. Angel or not, she seemed friendly enough, another head to help keep safety in numbers. Perhaps there would come a time where Herbert would find answers, but they were not going to find them standing idly in the snow.

The bone creature flapped its two branched limbs, bobbing somewhat at the new friend, standing on the edge of his shoulder, chittering in a way that one might be forgiven for thinking affectionate.

Ryann had to take a few more steps forward to properly shake the man’s hand, hoping then that her numb fingers would follow what her mind was telling them. They did, but not without trembling frightfully from the cold; it was a good thing it was a handshake being asked for, she noted with good humor. The taller man introduced himself as Dimitri, and then the man behind him as Herbert.

“I’m Ryann. It’s nice to meet you both.” She chirped happily, returning a much more enthusiastic wave towards Herbert. Her eyes then caught the tiny skeleton creature now bobbing on Herbert’s shoulder. It looked like something that would live naturally in Limbo, and for brief moment, she felt reassured that this was indeed Limbo. She waited a moment to see if either men would introduce the little guy, but neither did, and before she could ask, she was startled by Dimitri tugging at one of her feathers. It didn’t hurt any, but the sudden interest in her wings stole her attention quickly.

“Oh! Um, there’s no glue.” she answered by unfurling her wings just enough to prove that they were in fact actual appendages and not false limbs. “Only flesh and feathers.” Her voice held a light sort of humor while she explained, familiar with these sorts of questions. She didn’t extend them as fully as she would have though, thanks to the blistering cold that now scraped against her back. After another short moment, she hurried to furl them up tightly again.

The redhead’s eyes followed along with Dimitri’s while he explained their situation, and for a moment, she felt the knot in her stomach return. He hadn’t given any explanation to the blood and gore that waited inside, only that it was there and that somewhere near there, was the shelter they were looking for. Ryann could feel her heartbeat speed up a bit, but she ignored it and focused on how cold she was instead.

“I’d like to accept that offer, if it’s not too much trouble” she replied, trying her best to smile confidently, but doing little more than raising the edges of her lips nervously. She blamed the cold and earlier mention of gore, and silently waited for one of them to begin leading.

Will

“Do you know who has caused this destruction and the… N… Na… um… the winter?” Dzel followed Will through the hall, up the stairs and into the wide decorated chamber. “You will have to explain more to me… I have not heard of your country nor do I understand your ways.”

Dzel was very far from home.

She had trouble following the explorers story. She assumed that the destruction and the trouble in this land must have been caused by a powerful magic-wielder, for, in her home such a thing was possible. What she had never heard of before were words like ‘nuclear’, ‘industrial’, and ‘mortars’. These words confused her understanding of the story. She did not grow impatient. She understood that things were not what they seemed, and other things were best understood with time and patience.

The riddle would unwind as it was meant to.

“As for myself…I last remember being in the wood... I do not know where I am now, but surely, I am very far from that fair forest. I do not know how I arrived here instead. It is unlikely, but possible, that I have been bewitched... ” She tilted her head from side to side, as if amused by that idea.

She became quiet at his signal.

Inside the backpack was a set of cloths. Pants, underwear, a grey t-shirt. Two protein bars, woolen socks, a flashlight, a rubix cube (unsolved), a plastic bottle of water, a gameboy with a red cartridge, a stopwatch, and a handgun, which, if Will were to check he would find three bullets in the magazine.

Upstairs…

Dzel looked toward the altar, her face solemn. She marched toward the altar and closed the eyes of the dead.

“You are wise… I do not think we are alone, Listen.”

The ‘other entrance’ was simply the other half of the large once-great hall with the walls and ceiling missing. From outside, the wind carried in a conversation…

“H-Hello. Trying to escape the cold as well?”

"No need to apologize friend, it takes more than that to ruffle this monk's feathers. This cold will take its toll on anyone if we're out here long enough. Well you're a tiny thing aren't you? That's Herbert over there. Did you know that you have feathers stuck to you dear? how curious! Oh my, they are stuck on there good. Did you use glue? Listen. That room back there is a mess...blood and gore everywhere, but it seems the only way to shelter is down those steps Herbert is heading towards. I don't know about you, but I am growing quite weary from holding this dreadful cold at bay, so I'm heading that way too. You're welcome to join us if you like. I'm sure there will be some kind of shelter below and maybe we can all figure out how to get off this cursed mountain."

“You are a good man.” A third voice.

“I’m Ryann. It’s nice to meet you both.Oh! Um, there’s no glue. Only flesh and feathers. I’d like to accept that offer, if it’s not too much trouble.”
Alexander (Clone 1)

An arrow hit him in the shoulder. He cursed as he faltered, and the second hit him in the chest.

Alexander looked up at the woman and her arrows, she drew the third and stepped close to him, the arrowhead pointed straight between his eyes…

The clone bled. The clone winced in pain. Then the clone disappeared.

Arrows clattered to the ground. The girl was left wide eyed and astonished. She picked up the fallen arrow and ducked back behind the rock. She waited for the man to re-appear. Her heart beat fast in her chest as she posed for the counter attack and questioned her sanity…

Xavier (Clone 2)

“We should move quickly.” A look of deep concern crossed Xavier's face. “I sense danger.” He quickened his pace through the snow, headed northward in order to reunite with his original copy.

They would come upon Alex (original copy), a man strangely identical to Xavier, sitting in the snow. He knelt beside a man in a long coat. Alex had dragged the body close to a patch of fire in order to warm the poor unconscious man. It seemed to do little to help.

Alex looked up, bemused at the sight of his clone. “We have both found someone it seems… Even Alexander… He is gone...”

“I shall stand watch.” Xavier offered, turning his back to Alex and Vata, casting his eyes about for signs of whomever, or whatever, had killed Alexander.

Vata walked a couple steps behind Xavier as Xavier led him towards his friend, who would, for whatever reason look exactly like Xavier. He decided not to ask any questions as they walked, since it could distract them from anything they might see looking around. Not that much could be seen through the snow, of course.

A moment later, Xavier stopped walking forward, and Vata nearly walked right into him since he wasn't paying attention to where he was walking. Xavier looked like he was rather concerned about something, then said, almost to himself "We should move quickly. I sense danger." With that he started to walk more quickly towards...wherever it was they were going, and Vata struggled to keep up with him through the snow. A couple minutes later the two came across a man that looked exactly like Xavier, kneeling by a fire. As they got closer, he could see that the man was kneeling by the body of another man in a long coat, who also looked similar to Xavier. At this point, Vata was extremely confused. There were three people who looked just like Xavier, and he had no idea why. He was so confused by all of this that he didn't notice the short conversation between Alex and Xavier.

"W...what is going on here? Who's that guy laying in the snow, and why do you all look the same?"

I think for a bit- is it wise to give weapons to someone that I don't really know?- then again, this Tyrael guy hadn't run at me screaming bloody murder yet... and besides, the guy's either really lazy or at least partially blind to have me looking for his weapons for him and I could beat, or at least run away from, any blind guy. I nod, then remember that, yeah, I'm talking to a blind guy. "Yeah, I'll see what I can scrounge up so long as you promise not to kill me first chance you get."

After a few minutes of searching over, around, under and sometimes even in corpses, it turns out that my hesitation to arm someone about twice my height with a medieval weapon was as much a waste of energy, as my search for said weapon.

"N-n-n-nothing." I say as I turn over the latest body- some human like thing with brown skin and wiry hair- my teeth chatter as I speak, and I shiver almost constantly now. I feel I'd done a decent job of doing the "tough guys aren't bothered by the cold routine", but it was exhausting and I wasn't getting anything out of it. Yeah, maybe Tyrael would laugh at me for shivering, but he could go ahead. "N-n-not an-n axe, n-n-not a ssssss-ssword, n-not a d-damn piece of wint-t-t-ter clothiiiiing... G-give m-m-me a m-minute.”

I hunch over a bit, put my hands in my armpits and just try to get some circulation back as I try to think.

I start going over my winter survival courses from back in basic, then quickly discard all that when I remember how useless most of it was to someone without proper military equipment. My mind begins to wander, a bad sign in someone shivering as much as I was by that point. For some reason I keep thinking back on a guy I knew name Gus- old pitfighter I met back when I used to sneak out at night to watch brawls. This'd be when I was a teenager and a right little twit. Night I met Gus it was because I ended up “accidentally” spilling my drink on some huge guy- massive fella, around nine feet tall; probably would've been the end of me if Gus hadn't just come up and nutted him. That was Gus though, dirtiest fighter I'd ever seen. Gus was a genius barfighter, could see the weapon in anything- a wall, a cloth, I even saw him pick up someone's arm after it'd been cut off and go clubbing with it. Talking with him had been a real education.

I shake my head, try to clear it, look around... and I catch something I hadn't before. Four figures between us and the castle; I zoom in on them as much as I can... all in recognizable winter clothing, both human as far as I could tell. As I watch, first one and then the other move off, leaving one with goggles and another who, according to my expert investigation skills, was probably a woman.

That got my circulation going- Memories of past slogs through inhospitable landscape begins to blend into this one. Anyone with winter clothing was probably someone who had chosen to be here, so very possibly an enemy... What are my assets? First, I had the clothes on my back, then a mostly dead stunner. Ok, what else? One ally-sorry, one blind person who hadn't tried to kill me yet. The environment. Snow; most people wouldn't be able to see through this whiteout that far, we could use that. I scrape a foot down through the snow- Rocks. Ok, a plan forming here- I couldn't hold a candle to Gus, but even I could figure out what to do with a rock.

I go over to an outcropping of rock and begin to excavate the snow; tiny flecks of blood stain the white with specks of scarlet from the miniscule cuts on my fingers accrued during my search- I don't feel it though, not really. All I feel from my fingers is the constant burn of frostbite beginning its hold.

Down past a foot of powder I find a stone about the size of my fist, maybe a bit larger. Not much of a weapon on its own but better than nothing. Now if only I had a nice thick branch and some rope I could emulate old Gus...

My eyes settle on this one corpse's arm, and I just stare at it for a while. Then my brain catches up to what my eyes have already figured out “Even an arm...” I mutter. I go over to the body, put the stone in its hand and it fits perfectly. Then I rip off bits of cloth from the surrounding bodies and tie the hand shut so the rock can't possibly fall out. I grab the wrist of and put my foot up against the elbow. “You sh-sh-should be g-glad you c-c-can't see, bec-cause... Eh, thisss's gonna b-be gruesome.” Then I pull my foot up and stomp. There's a gross kind of crackle as the elbow breaks, and I shudder- well, I was shuddering already, but now it's from something other than the cold.

“C-come over here and p-p-pull this guy's forearm off. It's gonna be your mace.”

"I promise nothing."

Karnage said in responds to Fitz comment about killing him. While it hasn't really crossed his mind, he was now considering it if proved to be useful. He heard the man search around and grow colder from the chattering of his teeth. Karnage didn't really notice the cold. He felt a breeze, sure, and maybe even some wetness, but he hardly felt cold. Though he guessed that it must be a cold climate for humans, which was nice to know. Gave him a sense of terrain and setting.

Walking around a bit Karnage picked up some stones and tossed them around. He was checking his surroundings, hearing where the stones fell. He didn't exactly have echo location, but this way he could at least figure out if there was a cliff near him or not. It also got his arms and body moving, and hearing the rocks break apart when he threw them against the wall or ground gave him a small satisfaction knowing that he can at least throw stones pretty hard.

Eventually Fitz made a comment that he was doing something gruesome. A whiff in the air and Karnage could smell the corpse he was messing with, and imagined that he was mutilating the dead to arm him. He never did find his weapons, so Karnage figured he'd have to improvise now. Walking over to the corpse Karnage didn't even bother to rip the arm off. He just lifted it by the legs and hefted the corpse over his shoulder. Unfortunately, Karnage needed to put more effort into it as the dead body had dead weight. Before swinging a human corpse was nothing to him, but now it was actually a bit of a strain. Not so much that he can't do it, just that it was harder than before. "Do I look like the type of creature who cares about the sanctity of corpses? Now let us leave this place."

The demon was fairly certain that he could hear the wind blowing through perhaps a crack or crevice not too far away. Given that he couldn't see it Karnage couldn't say for certain if the hole was big enough for him to go through, but at least with this corpse on hand he had some material to work with. Or a snack.

So the feathers were real! He smiled warmly as Ryann spread her wings and suddenly such a tiny frame made more sense. On any other day that might have surprised Dimitri. Things of that nature were expected to be more acceptable under a state of inebriation but the monk was just about sober by now, a state he wished to alter as soon as possible but alas, there was no booze within sight at that moment.

"Oh we'd be delighted to have you join us wouldn't we Herbert? The more the merrier I always say!"

He chuckled at the boney skeleton's reaction to Ryann. He knew the tiny creature meant well with its insipid crackles and pops that now served as a voice for its reanimated state but in all honesty the grinding of cartilage in its throat almost wrenched a wince from the jovial monk. Maybe a good scoop of honey mead down the creatures gullet would help smooth out the retched noises that perhaps at some point in time had been very musical and calming. It was difficult to tell right now.

"Oh Ryann how could I forget?" He gestured towards the tiny skeleton and smiled "this is our boney little minion. It deserves a name but I must admit, I am at a loss right now when it comes to deciding on a name for it. Perhaps Bizbee may suit it?" He laughed at the sound of the name then smiled at the creature. "What say you to that hmm? My tiny skelenial friend? We could call you BB for short!"

With the round of introductions complete, the monk turned towards the grim alter once more and trudged forward biting back curses directed at the horrid snow and icey winds that were constantly batting at his face and whipping his robes about.

It was not until a sickening crunch beneath the monk's feet vibrated through him that he realized they were just about to the alter. He cast his eyes down to the ground and frowned at the mess beneath his feet before glancing over his shoulder to make sure the others hadn't blown away in the breeze. After all; Herbert seemed like a weary old leaf of a man and well Ryann was so tiny it was a wonder the wind didn't carry her about like a piece of paper.

Will didn't show any outward signs of confusion at the question, deciding to try and piece it together properly rather than potentially saying something that would prove dangerous. He could only speculate on where Dzel was from, she was old enough that she must have been through most of school before The Cremation, so even if her current community was very inwards focused and cut-off, they must have been like that before too. Somewhere backwards, kind of place that might inspire a short horror story or murder mystery set in a tiny village with vaguely threatening locals. Sheltered, lots of ingrained and powerful xenophobia. Plus this little community had existed for a long time in the Slavic Union, so she probably believed Will was a godless red devil, which was not entirely accurate.
Of course, the growing possibility that this was something else entirely was also there...

"Well, the CNC kicked in after the war got hot in South America, and kinda grew from there. The nuclear weapons-" He glanced across, seeing her expression was not that of someone who was gaining a greater understanding of something "-I think I'll reel the explanation back a bit. Sorry in advance if I explain something you already know, point it out if I do."

"7 years ago, the Cremation War occured, taking about 3 days, start to finish. It was fought between the nations of The Internationale and the nations of the Wolfram Pact. The Internationale was a bloc of nations promoting socialistic principles, so workers owning the means of production, the people having a direct say in governance, the structuring of society to redistribute the wealth it generates based on the value of labour and what is needed for a dignified life, rather than pooling wealth into the hands of a group of capital-aristrocrats, the prevention of the disproportionate and vastly unfair devaluation of labour seen in many systems, and (with a few sad exceptions) full gender and racial (and more) equality. They controlled the continent of north America, all of the South American continent aside from Brazil, the British Isles and former Dominions, Central America, Southern China and Free French Africa. The Wolfram Pact was a group of fascist totalitarian states, and I'm trying to be unbiased but I can't put their ideologies nicely at all- each of the states in the Pact promoted some form of ethno-ultranationalism; the belief that their particular cultural grouping was inherently superior and that this could be used to justify atrocity, conquest, war and more. Continental Europe, Russia, North China, Japan, Brazil, South Africa."

He paused, collecting his thoughts. They had been racing off, and he had to cut down the scope of what he wanted to explain; now was not the time to explain the distinction between an implosion or gun-type atom bomb, or between a fission and fusion bomb in depth.

"Each side had cultivated an array of missiles armed with nuclear warheads, and extensive networks of communication and detection stations. It was a brilliant deterrent, no war between peer-powers would be declared, or between members of either bloc, as the alliances would expand the war until it became desperate for someone. Then they would use nuclear weapons, and someone would reply with them, but worse. That network would take over, running on protocol and paranoia and some automated systems. CNC refers to Catastrophic Nuclear Check, the idea that neither side could attack because both sides were in check and would be destroyed. Missiles are like bullets or arrows, with a thinking-tool inside them and machines that approximate the parts of the body that lets you keep your balance. Instead of flying across meters or hundreds of meters, they can cover continents in minutes, and are incredibly hard to shoot down. Nuclear weapons, the warheads in the missiles, are weapons that work by taking a clump of material that is unstable at some of the most fundamental levels of existance, and pushing it all together, causing that instability to multiply out, making the material split apart at nearly the tiniest level and release a huge amount of energy. That's one kind, the other kind is the fusion bomb, it basically does the opposite, using the first to provide the energy needed to push together material that is very tiny on its fundamental levels, to release... even more energy. The first kind poisons the land around it and living things, and both release enough energy to destroy a moderately sized city.

Large cities, those with a million or more, normally had about 5 of these aimed at them, with only 2 or 3 expected to get past the interceptors. Capitol cities or otherwise very important ones could expect 8-9 with about half hitting. Exceptionally important capitols could be hit with roughly 15. Thousands were fired in a few minutes by both sides, no significant city would not have been targeted, nearly every nation had been drawn onto one side as well as those core nations I mentioned earlier. This happened, with most of the world's population of about 4 billion at the time, perishing in... 30 minutes. The vast majority of the rest died in the chaos and collapse following. The burning of all of those cities made the situation worse, as once those survivors tried to bring in their first harvest or not freeze to death, they found that all the ash had cooled the planet, blocking a lot of the sunlight from reaching them."

Looking across to gauge the effect of what he had said, he was expecting either a muted reaction if she knew of this, horror if not, or anger if her community had been Slavic Union loyalists. Horror and deep confusion was a bit disappointing. She recognised none of these place names, and the terms used had not been even vaguely familiar to her. They gave up on explaining the situation from his end for now.

"A forest? Are- are you sure? There shouldn't be any around here, literally for hundreds of miles, never have been. No, that's a dumb question, of course you're sure."

There was another lull in the conversation. As usual, Will started back up again. His brow was furrowed, which was quickly becoming its defaut state, and he looked concerned.

"I'm not gonna insult you by assuming you're confused or something... So you came here for a country called Avalon, in a forest, and don't recognise any of what I'm saying, even words like 'gun'. I don't know what questions to ask, normally I have an idea of what sort of things I don't know, but this, this is a solid contender for the most confusing thing I've ever experienced. Can you tell me about Avalon? Also, do you recognise these contintent- Asia, Europe, Africa, Antarctica, Astralasia, North America, South America? It feels like we've come from different worlds. Maybe we're concussed. I don't know. Ask what you want though, we need to figure this out."

They kept trying to understand the situation as they walked on, the discussion and confusion providing a good distraction from the cold.

Finding the gun in the backpack, Will quickly searched some of the others too (not all, too many), filling the magazine of the gun and taking other magazines as spares. He then took an empty gun and set it on safety, double checking that it was unloaded, and handed it to Dzel.

"Here. I have a hunch that you'll get taught how to use this soon, for now, it can't do anything but it makes us look more intimidating if hostiles appear; two people with guns. If you want to make someone feel threatened with it, point it at them. Be very careful to do so, it will make them very afraid."

Knowing they had a measure of safety now, Will ripped up some of the clothes from another bag, and they bandaged up Dzels worst wounds before moving on to some of the other supplies. Will and Dzel both took a flashlight with them, and Will explained their use to Dzel, but they intended to come back for the other supplies once they had explored. Will spent some time looking at the gameboy, it reminded him of a tiny version of the arcade games in Sapparo that he'd seen while working at Sakhalin before the Cremation. He put it aside for now, without trying to turn it on.

Thinking on it, Will thought 'She might not be the only one who's far from home. This place just looks similar to where I was from, those pieces of electronics, I have no idea what that is. Possibly I'm a stranger here too.'

They soon moved into the altar room. After Will had calmed down, he watched as Dzel moved into the room and closed the eyes of the victim, not wavering in her path. His eyes widened, still finding it quite hard to talk.

"Good. That's impressive."

They heard the voices, abruptly turning and moving to what cover the wrecked building could offer. The guns were visible, but not in hand.

"They sound safe. Like they're just greeting someone who just appeared. Could be a trap, but I really doubt it, nobody can see or hear far enough through this wind to do it, wouldn't be worth standing around outside either. No reason." They agreed to look, and introduce.
Will and Dzel stepped around the corner.

"Hey. Am I interrupting? It looks like you've already got some introductions going on. I'm Will and this is Dzel- guess nobody here knows where this place really is? Would fit the general theme."

Surprised he’d been asked, Herbert simply shrugged his shoulders, a minute gesture masked almost entirely by his shuddering, “Perhaps it would be so under different circumstances.” There were certain sights meant never to be seen by certain eyes, and if the scene was as awful as Dimitri told, then one such sight was awaiting their fair maiden companion. Herbert, on the other hand, had likely seen worse before. He hoped.

The tiny skeletal creature undulated its entire form, watching the large monk, making a high-pitched scratching that would make eardrums vibrate rather noticeably. As it chirped, it would flap its membrane-lacking wings; long bony protrusions that seemed to fan out. It hung tremulous in the air, but at a strong gust, it was quick to latch back onto Herbert. Regardless, it seemed happy.

“I think it is fond of it. How quaint,” Herbert said with the ghost of a smile.

He fell quickly in line behind the larger man, somewhat pleased that he was taking point. It was not the blood Herbert cared about; it was not uncommon in the medical field, and was far too common in his research. No. With every step Dimitri took, Herbert answered with one of his own, resigned to be led, rather than to lead. That was a great weight of off his shoulders.

He cast nothing more than a glimpse back at Ryann. How old was she? Sixteen perhaps? Certainly not that far out of childhood. There was an instinct to protect her, to keep her ignorant to the scene they were fast approaching, perhaps a remnant of a shared dream that never bore fruit. Then he remembered her wings. She was no human. The urge dissipated quite suddenly then. He gathered his jacket around him a little tighter, turning from her, bristling. He strode onwards.

The ground went from slick-crunch to sticky. “BB” scurried inside his Jacket, hiding in the breast lining. Herbert slipped past Dimitri to get a better view. There was an oily sheen on the floor, a charred residue. The room was a circle, swathed in fire, blood and ruin. Around the periphery, charred bodies lay mangled, stripped of all skin and clothing, black immolated flesh with weeping red sores. There were about a dozen of them, maybe more, maybe less; Herbert did not let his eyes linger, trying to keep them moving to avoid the scene. Human debris and viscera grew denser around the centre. Moreover, the centrepiece itself, upon a stone altar was-

"Hey. Am I interrupting? It looks like you've already got some introductions going on. I'm Will and this is Dzel- aside from that we'll just join the queue."

He looked at them; one seemed practically dressed. The other reminded Herbert of Sir Gawain when the eldest schoolchildren acted out Sir Gawain and the Green Knight at the festivities around every summer solstice celebration, only in this case, “Sir Gawain” was a female. He was surprised he had not noticed either sooner.

“Salutations,” Herbert managed, blinking exaggeratedly, trying to clear his swimming vision, “I’m sure Dimitri will be rather fond of you both.”

His head felt light, and he could swear the whole room was spinning about. He smiled at them curtly, and drifted away, towards the centre of the room, very much disinterested with these new people. He knew what lay at the altar, he had seen it, and he wished he could omit that sight from his mind, but he was drawn to it like iron to a lodestone, drawn by morbid curiosity. Each step was unsteady. Each breath was ragged. The wickedness grew stronger, and he had to swallow back the bile rising in his throat. Lone tears fled from his watering eyes. He stood over her.

A woman. An untidy cut down the centreline laid bare her insides, from just above the sternum, across the abdomen, finishing at the womb. Ribs, terribly white against the sanguinity, snapped and broken, marrow-filled shards protruding from the cavity, pulled wide open. Most disturbing of all, arguably, was that her insides, instead of being definite organs and bodies, were a liquid, a macabre soup of that which was most vital to life. A veil of steam rose from this, as if he had once been hot, and now was cooling. Mercifully, her eyes were closed, but her mouth was wide and gawping. Flecks and splotches of red marred her face and matted strands of her hair.

It was odd, that he had never worked upon a female before, and perhaps now he realised why. His mind was drawn unavoidably to memories of his late wife, and the vile thoughts that began to manifest were overwhelming. So, he tried to distract himself, hoping to lock the grief away again.

With utmost care, and the steady hand of man from a walk of life that demanded it, he began to wipe away the blood with the cuff off his jacket, and clean her face as best as he could. There was still the radiating foulness that permeated this area most strongly, but, in his distraction, he was able to partly forget his knotting stomach and raised hackles. He propped her head in such a way that her mouth would stay closed, and her hair fell in auburn waves. The split down her middle was far too large to bind with a strip of fabric. He thought about cauterising it with the heat from the unending flames, but that would be too difficult, as he doubted he could find iron suitable.

Instead, after a little consideration, he took off his jacket, and draped it over her exposed front, tucking her arms over the top. The cold bit him immediately, but if they would be heading inside soon, a mild discomfort was a far lesser sacrifice to make than a woman’s dignity in death.

And then, because he felt it expected, he spoke a few words, for his sake more than that of the woman. “Rest well, forever undisturbed.” A small amount of closure. Nevertheless, enough to sustain the shocked and readily accepting state that had kept him sane thus far, locking away portions of his mind for his own safety.

He turned. Suddenly he was very aware of how queasy and weak at the knees he was. He needed to sit down. Blood everywhere. If he was to take a step, he feared he might have fallen, so he stood, swaying slightly.

The whole thing wouldn’t have taken more than a few moments, and he drew his attention back to… “Will and Dzel”, those were their names.

“Have you any idea what happened here?” He very much doubted so, but you never knew until you asked. Somebody had to know something. Herbert had his suspicions of course; the whole thing spoke of sacrifice. The body on the altar was the only one in the room not burnt to a cinder; not a mere coincidence. Not that he was foolish enough to believe that such poppycock worked; he was a man of science, not arcane suspicion.

He rubbed his arms, trying to generate some friction to keep warm before they delved inside, to where it was hopefully much less cold.

Bizbee? What a cute name. Ryann smiled and nodded approvingly at Dimitri’s choice in names, simply happy to see that someone cared enough to give the little critter such a right. She watched with curious eyes as it flapped its bony wings, though she didn’t much care for its chirping. The sharp sound of grinding, clicking bones bothered her ears, and made her wish for a moment that the little critter had just a bit more flesh so that it could produce a proper sound. Perhaps it would sound like a bird, she thought briefly.

As the trio moved onward, Ryann found herself mostly keeping an eye on the tiny creature that sat on Herbert’s shoulder. She watched with obvious curiosity while it clung to the man’s jacket, casually noting all of its strange but charming features. It supplied a good distraction from the cold and wind, which hadn’t lessened its fierceness any in the time it took her to find companions. Had the situation been kinder, she might have been able to call the wind into submission, but sadly, it simply didn’t wish to listen to her today. She supposed her companions might have been happier had it listened. The taller fellow seemed especially bothered by it. She listened quietly to his foreign sounding curses, noting down the ones she found the most curious to ask about later.

The sudden change in footing was barely noticed, thanks to how numb the tiny avian’s feet were by now, but she did note the thick stench of burnt meat and ash that began filling her nostrils. The knot inside her stomach suddenly doubled in size, and she found herself stopping just behind Dimitri, the doorway before them. She hesitated at first, watching Herbert head inside first, but eventually, something close to curiosity and panic made her feet move.

She looped around Dimitri lightly, suddenly more aware of how sticky the ground was. Her eyes quickly found the charred forms that littered the ground—bodies, burnt a harsh black and curled into themselves like fetuses. Fire still licked at some of them, haphazardly left to burn in a few corners of the room. Then there was the center piece of the whole massacre, which left Ryann nearly reeling. A woman, torn open from the chest down and left to scream in silent agony, like some twisted piece of art. She reeked of death and something else, and left Ryann nearly choking on the knot in her stomach as it suddenly found its way to her throat. If there was ever a place she expected something nasty to be living, it was most certainly here, and that thought only added to the unease she felt for being in this place. Her small hands curled into the edges of her shirt, and she found herself scooting as far from the corpses as she could without ending up back outdoors.

"Hey. Am I interrupting? It looks like you've already got some introductions going on. I'm Will and this is Dzel- aside from that we'll just join the queue."

She jumped when a new voice broke the silence, snapping her attention to the man and woman who’d just entered the alter room. Only one of them looked as out of sorts as the rest of them. A knight of some sort? Ryann had read about them in books before, but never met one. The other looked much more suited for this place, and for a second, she wondered if maybe he was the nasty thing that lived here.

“Hello.” Ryann added shortly after Herbert’s greeting, followed by what she hoped wouldn’t be too shaky of a wave—she was wrong, but continued anyway, just to be polite. “That’s Dimitri” she pointed to the towering monk behind her a moment after Herbert’s last comment. “His name is Bert” she pointed towards Herbert while he wandered towards the center piece, unaware that she’d gotten his name wrong, “And I’m Ryann.” She ended introductions quickly and with her best attempt at a smile. She wasn’t exactly past the contents of the room, no, but she was perfectly content with accepting the distraction that suddenly walked into the room.

Vata

Upon a second more thorough glance, the man unconscious on the ground was not the triplet of the first two. He lay where Alex had set him, near the fire for warmth, a stone for a pillow. Neither seemed to be doing the unconscious man much good. He was pale, his face thin and haggard like one who was famished and weary. He showed no signs of waking, but did groan and shift once and awhile where he lay.

Alex, the one that Vata only just met, is the one who answered. “This man I found here, lying in the snow. He is in poor shape but he is still alive.” He turned away from the man, there was nothing Alex could do for him at this point. He was a warrior prince, not a healer. “May Xela give him the strength.”

“We appear the same because… Well… Xavier is a copy of me.” Alex explained with a casual air. On his home-world such a power was not unheard of. Alex did not know how far from home he was.

“You see, I am Prince Alexavier Xelanar, Reiva Xela.” He spoke this with a finality. As if it would explain everything. He assumed that Vata, like everyone else on his home-world, knew of him and his powers.

Johnathan, Karnage, & Gemma

Zesiro watched Twain wander off, complacent, and uncaring. “Let's uh… Go this way I guess?” He began to walk, he clipped his radio to his vest pocket, then unclipped his firearm from this side of his pack. With a few clicks and a snap he unfolded the short rifle.

The cold landscape was quiet. Too quiet. It wasn’t long before they began to cross over shattered stones, tongues of fire that should have snuffed themselves out hours ago, and of course the dead…

Zesiro turned his head as the silence was disturbed by a gruesome crack Unfortunately, Zesiro knew exactly what that sound was.

Breaking bones.

He brought up the rifle and took a step toward the sound. He saw two figures. One was a man, he had just finished twisting the arm of a dead body, breaking the joint and cracking the bone.

Then a… a… something else larger than a man, and much uglier, approached the body and hefted it into the air. The body was a rag doll to this man-beast.

“What the fuck!?”

Zesiro wanted to shoot the bastard, but, MERCY protocol required him to ask questions first… And as the senior member of MERCY he would have to take point on this one. He stepped so that he was in ahead of Gemma, and hoped she had practiced enough with her pistol...

“HOLD IT!” He called out, he aimed the rifle at the big ugly one. “Drop that fucking body!” His pubescent voice cracked as he spoke, he coughed and forced his voice to drop down to a reasonable manly timbre. “I won’t shoot if you cooperate… If you... can… understand me… put her down and put your hands up!”

Will

Dzel listened politely, but the more he spoke the less she understood. He named many places she had never heard of, and cities with a million people? She couldn’t imagine it… and [i]4 billion[i] dead? It was a wonder to her that there were so many people…

“How very tragic.” She concluded that Will was from a place very distant and different from her own. There was strife in her home, true, but not such as he described.

“Yes… There are no forests nearby. I must have traveled very far.” She commented as he spoke.

She shook her head as he listed the continents.

“Perhaps we are in a different world. I am nearly certain that this is not the Fey Realm, and I always wondered if there was not a world beyond that one.”

“My only question is if we have a common purpose. We do not have a common origin nor common knowledge, yet, it is plain to see a great injustice has been accomplished here.” She turned her head toward the altar where the young girl lay. “In Avalon, it is my duty as a knight to right such wrongs. This may not be Britain, but I am still honor bound to do what good I can here.

She was quiet for a moment, she was unaccustomed to making such speeches. She felt much more comfortable with action than with word. She continued. “Your companions are missing. We should seek them out, and if any of them have survived this, and see if they know more than ourselves of what has happened.”

When Will gave Dzel the gun, she first took hold of it by the barrel, assuming that the longer part was the handle, treating it like a blunt axe.

When Will corrected her, she curled her finger around the trigger with a sense of foreboding. The strange cold metal in her hands made her uncomfortable.

She thanked him for tending her wounds. She was grateful to have met a healer.


Will, Herbert, Dimitri, Ryann

She let Will take lead greeting the strangers. They were not one of his old company, that much was certain. She kept her hand on the gun but did not point it at them as he had taught her, not yet, she would wait for his signal. They needed to determine if these strangers were honorable or villainous.

There were two men, a woman. The woman had wings. Dzel wondered if she was a fairy or not.

There was, upon one man's shoulder, a skeleton that moved on its own. To her, it seemed to take the shape of a small dragon. Claws and wings, but its maw held no teeth like a baby dragon would. She studied it briefly, but her eyes did not linger upon it over-long, it was a creature of magic and she would respect it.

"Never figured you for a quitter" I mutter to Tyrael, sprinkling in a tone of amusement as I relax my stance. All kidding aside, I'm kind of surprised that he'd complied. Tyrael struck me as the "charge in and face my problems head on" sort of guy, but I guess he's got more cunning in him than I gave him credit for, and seeing as he didn't just fling the body straight at the kid, a good deal less bloodlust. I look up at him and see his evil smirk. "Q-quit smiling, you're gonna scare t-the n-nice k-kid h-h-holding us at-t g-gunpoint t-to death."

I cross my arms and conceal my stunner in the crook of my elbow- it's small enough I could just close my hand over it, but with the cold I didn't want to risk dropping it- still shivering badly. I open up with a huge grin and shout at the duo. "W-wonderful w-w-weather we're hav-v-v-ving, isn'ttttt it-t?"

Vata's expression became increasingly confused as Alex explained who he was, and that he didn't know who the unconscious man was. Even if what he initially believed about the unknown man was true, it would not have made him any more, or less confused. The concept of a clone was alien to him, and furthermore, the possibility that two seemingly distinct people were in fact just two instances of the same person was just as bizarre, if not even more so than the idea of clones. While he had heard of, and seen some very strange things made possible by Blood Shaping, this was well outside the realm of possibility of what he knew about it, since it only seemed to produce unusual physical characteristics, not supernatural abilities like this. He also knew of no Shapers with any abilities like this. Now that Alex had told Vata who he was, Vata wondered what he was.

"So, both you, and Xavier are both the same person? You two certainly look the part, but I have no idea how two seemingly distinct people could be the same person."

Then, a thought occurred to him. Where is this person, entity, or whatever Alexavier Xelanar is from? Perhaps that could shed some light on what's going on here.

"Also, where are you from? I am from the city of Nishi'an, in the Great Abeyance, a vast desert in the south."

Despite his friendly attitude, it would be clear to Dimitri, Herbet and Ryann that he was tense and surpressing some small panic. The way he held himself gave the impression of someone aggressively pushing down the desire to run, though it would be essentially impossible to say if he was shaking slightly from tension or simply the cold that they were all feeling- especially as Dzel still had his jacket. He wouldn't come off as a madman ready to attack at any moment, but definitely someone shaken and trying to carry on.

Will avoided looking or glancing at all towards the body on the altar as he spoke, and listened to their replies, but broke from this pattern as soon as Herbet moved to cover it. He seemed relieved to see this, and his expression softened somewhat as he looked at the trio.

He nodded in approval and spoke "We were planning on that, as soon as we could get something to spare, only just passed into here. You're more willing to sacrifice protection from the cold for whoever she was, I can respect that."

Shifting his gaze to address the trio without a focus on Herbet, he spoke again "Its good to meet you all, though not so much in these circumstances. No, I have no idea where or what this is. I have one piece of knowledge and one piece of unrelated good news. First, we've found a room full of... light expedition gear. This place is abandoned, and to be honest whoever left that there is more prepared for these conditions than we are, so I personally have no problem using what is there to survive. Especially as the owners may be who caused this. Clothes, limited amounts of food and water, backpacks. Also handguns and ammo. It is just back where we came from, all in good condition, enough for everyone here. The information, I have to stress that it poses no danger unless you're going to camp in here for a few weeks, but this whole site is more radioactive than background. Gets worse closer to here, peaks at the woman on the altar. I'm hoping you know what that means," he gestured to Dzel "we are not finding much common ground with words like 'nuclear' or 'europe' so I don't want to make assumptions. Our homes seem very very distant."

"If you're willing to follow me- a stranger in a terrible place- I can show you all the supplies. Better to be out of this room. Also, if anyone here has medical experience, looking over Dzel's wounds would be very good, I've done what I can to bandage and clean them, but it isn't much." If they assented, he would then lead them to the other backpacks below.

Karnage, Johnathan, Gemma

Zesiro’s eyes widened as the body was flung aside like a paper doll. When it landed, with a sickening thwap he furrowed his brow and his frown deepened. “Both you put your hands where I can see them. Don’t move.”

Zesiro took a step toward Gemma, and whispered. “I’ll keep my gun on the ugly one, you follow the other. Just because he doesn’t look as scary doesn’t mean he isn’t. Things are not always what they look like.”

He addressed the pair. “Yup, armed and human.” Zesiro hefted the gun a bit for emphasis. “We are conducting an investigation, therefore, I will be asking the questions.” His eyes wandered to the one who looked human, asking about the weather? neither was dressed for the snow. Was he surprised by it?

“This is so sketchy.” Zesiro muttered to Gemma.

He kept the rifle aimed and steady with his right arm, right finger still on the trigger, but, took off his left, reaching for his radio. Unclipping it from his coat and pushing down the button. “Found two suspects. Unidentified. One human, one… humanoid… or something... both male… I think...”

He lowered the radio from his lips and turned to his head toward his companion. “Gemma? You getting any vibes off these guys?”

Vata

“Here… I will show you.” The prince was always eager to demonstrate his skills. Alex waved his hand, and Xavier vanished. Now he was Alexavier. “There. Now I am one. When I create copies they are only temporary, and much weaker than my original and whole self.” He nodded his head slowly and spoke clearly to be sure that Vata understood. "I used to be able to make many copies of myself, but today I find I am weakened and can only make two or three at a time..." He looked wistfully into the distance. "Perhaps it is because I have lost my crystal..."

“Now, I have not heard of… Nishi'an… or the Abeyance.” this only bothered Alexavier a bit, as his world was very large and there was only so much he could be expected to remember. What did bother the prince is that this man had not heard of him. How backwater was this ‘city’ that Vata had come from that he did not know his own royalty.

“You are not from Xela Redna, are you?” The prince became wary that did not recognize their current region nor the ‘dessert’ that Vata spoke of. Had he been captured and taken to Xela Redna? “Is that where we are now?”

Will, Dimitri, Herbert, Ryann

Dzel would stay quiet, allowing Will to take point in greeting the strangers. She was a Lady but had never taken well to the role of courtier & diplomat. She would turn her head slowly, scanning the snowy horizon. When will mentioned the ‘radiation level’ she shrugged and shook her head, indicating that she didn’t know this word either.