"Ughhhhhhh...."

Who was shouting?

Why was the world spinning?

...and why in twelve hells was it so bright?

Holding one hand up to his temple, the small, white-haired Lalafell squinted as he tried to raise his head up. The pounding in his head felt like that time he'd done dragon dives -- pints of ale with shots of rum dropped into 'em. Was that what they'd done done then? Was that why his head felt like it had been cleaved in twain, then smashed repeatedly by a brick whilst being shouted at by whatever it was that was filling his vision?

What was all that... jumping? floating? ...that stuff, whatever, was all about, then?

Grimacing against the daylight stabbing daggers into the backs of his eyes, the small rogue braced one hand against the ground beneath him, so to perhaps stave off the sensation of the world spinning, and then adjusted the hand that was on his head to provide for some relief from the sun. "Bloody 'ell, what you on 'bout?" the Lalafell asked, in the accented speech frequently heard among Limsa Lominsa's docks.

Blinking, pale green eyes looked out upon a curious creature the likes of which he'd not seen before. "Thal's bollocks, what are you?" the rogue blurted out next, startled to find himself looking at what looked like a cross between a phurble and a spriggan, with the wings of an imp and the ears...

As he looked past the ears, the little rogue's eyes feel next to the horizon beyond them. Forgetting the phurble for a moment, the Lalafell was dumbstruck by the absence of the sea.

Well, the sea... the sea should be there. If he'd been doing dragon dives, then they were... at that, that place. The alehouse. The one that was... Well, it was...

And he'd been drinking with the mates. You know, the mates! They were... And there was...

Was he still drunk? Why couldn't he remember? Small hands patted around his slight frame, noting the presence of his short blades and the particular absence of a flaggon or flask. As he turned his head, the Lalafell was presented by land that stretched in verdant, fertile fields in all direction. With no ocean in sight. "Belay that... where am I?"

And why wasn't there more rum?

The first thing Edward was aware of was a voice. Someone, or something, was speaking to him. He didn't understand most of what it said, but what he did was very disconcerting. Then the voice changed, or it was someone different, more high pitched, and he would recognize that familiar speech pattern anywhere, it was a Moogle. He tried to remember why there would be a Moogle near him, but he couldn't. In fact, he couldn't recall anything. Frantically Edward searched his mind for anything, but none of his personal memories were there. Other than his own name. Edward Chris von Muir, it sounded fancy. Was he some sort of noble?

Edward opened his eyes to find himself staring up at the sky. Long grass tickled at his nose, making him wrinkle it. How did he get outside? Where had he been before this? He really didn't remember anything. A Moogle fluttered above him, looking as worried as a Moogle could, but relaxed when they saw that he was now awake. "Thank goodness, kupo! I thought you'd never wake up, kupo." It said, landing on his chest.

Edward chuckled, did he like Moogles? He must have, because of the sight of the little thing made him smile. "I'm sorry I made you worry. My name is Edward, what's yours?" He asked as he lifted the Moogle off his chest so that he could sit up.

"I'm Anna, kupo!" The Moogle replied, flying out of Edward's arms.

Anna, huh? That name sounded so familiar to Edward somehow, and yet, he didn't know why. He put a hand against the ground to push himself up, only his hand didn't touch the ground, it hit something else first. Edward glanced to the side to find that there was a harp sitting next to him. Curiously he picked it up and examined it. "Anna, is this yours?" He asked, wondering why else it would be there.

Anna giggled, "No, kupo, it's yours. It was next to you when I found you."

Edward stared at the harp for a little bit longer before running his fingers across the strings. They made a sound, and he did it again, this time skipping a few strings as he did. Maybe it really was his. With a shrug, Edward tucked it under his arm and got to his feet. He glanced around the area, trying to figure out where he was. All he could see was green, it was quite pretty actually. Though it worried him a little, his clothing didn't exactly blend in with the surroundings, at all. What if there were monsters around? Could he even fight? Well, if he ran into one he'd find out pretty quickly.

Anna was flying right near his head, and landed on his left shoulder, taking a seat there. Edward glanced to the side in order to look at her and smiled. It looks like he had made a friend already. "Well Anna, not much is going to happen if we just stand around here. What looks like a good direction to start it?"

Anna appeared to be pondering the question, then pointed to Edward's left. "That way, kupo!"

"That way it is." Edward agreed, heading off towards his left. The entire situation was scary, he had no idea where he was, why he was here, or even who he was. But, he wasn't going to let that stop him.

"Urgh..."

The thoughts and voices swam around the tan-skinned man like frantic dolphins, setting his mind awash in an incomprehensible haze. Names of places and people, memories of sights and sounds - none were spared from the chaotic aura that enveloped the man's brain, and the result was a splitting headache that throbbed painfully as he tried to move. An attempt to open his eyes and sit up found itself quickly shut down as his senses were overloaded, and he collapsed again into the heap of scraggly black hair about his scalp.

"Oh-! Are you okay, kupo-?"

He grumbled in annoyance as one of the voices in his ears took priority above all else. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," came the man's response as he blindly tried to wave off the worrywart fawning over him, "Quit whining, jeez..."

With some effort, the burly figure managed to lift himself into a sitting position, vocally straining all the way. Not faced with the sun anymore, his eyes were able to adjust to the light and gaze upon the environment he found himself in. He was quickly able to discern the lively swathes of green composed a set of nature-dominated plains. Almost immediately after, the man identified what appeared to be several other humanoids among the backdrop of the landscape, most occupied with their own personal attentions.

But never mind those people- what about himself?

"Thank goodness you're awake, kupo! It would've been terrible if you just-"

"Pipe down, will ya?" The man spoke back, perhaps a bit more gruffly than he meant to. "I can't hear myself think." Indeed, he couldn't bring himself to recall anything definite; there was something about someone important... a child? Was it his child? Who did he even have a child with? It had to be a pretty woman, surely, but what made him so sure? There had to be something attractive about himself... he did have a pretty well-toned body, he observed. But then he remembered that he was famous- for what, though? Who even was he?

"Jecht."

"Kupo?"

"That's my name, I know it," Jecht half-replied, half-thought out loud. "One of the most well-known names in... damn, what was that place? I know it was a big city- or is that something else?" The burly man furiously racked his brain for answers and was only rewarded with names and terms he couldn't piece together. Too many questions and not a single answer to be found among them- the strain gave Jecht another headache. This was starting to really piss him off. Growling in frustration, he lamented out loud, "Son of a- I can't remember a damn thing right! Everything's all fuzzy... what's going on here, anyway?!"

Invigorated in the spur of the moment, Jecht scrambled to his feet and looked to the other people going about their own business. Something about this whole situation felt familiar, but these sights he was witnessing were not. A sly and stern-looking woman, an aloof young man in bardic clothing, some weird midget-like thing - none of them struck a bell in Jecht's and the confusion aggravated him even more. "Hey, you bunch!" The tawny strongman called out to the other people in the immediate area, being rewarded with a few doubtful looks, "Yeah, you heard me! Do any of you, any one of you, know what the hell is going on here?!"

"Yes, kupo!"

Caught with his arms raised out to the side in confrontation, Jecht quietly turned his head back to discover the source of the noise that had been plaguing his patience for the last few minutes. It was a tiny white creature about the size and shape of a stuffed doll, complete with slotted eyes, a comically small satchel around its shoulder, cartoon-ish bat wings jutting from its back, and a yellow pom-pom dangling from the single antenna on its head. The creature had clamored onto the hilt of a large sword planted in the ground in order to better stand up to Jecht's size, and was waving its little stub arms in order to grant itself attention.

"Alright," Jecht turned back with a reprisal of his words, "So, anyone besides the- uh..." He quickly and awkwardly turned back to the creature, his voice turned drastically quiet in a futile attempt to mask his embarrassment, "What even are you, again?"

"Mogolia!" The creature announced at its full volume, oblivious or possibly uncaring as to Jecht's moment of humiliation. "I'm a moogle, and I'm here to help you, kupo!"

A moment of stunned silence followed, the tan-skinned man scrunching his face as he attempted to comprehend the strange being's intentions. "Uh-huh. Say, are you using that?" Jecht changed the subject to the blade the moogle was standing upon.

"Huh? Oh, well, this isn't mine, if that's what you're asking-"

"Then I'm borrowing it," the tough-spoken man declared, his right hand decisively clamping around the wrapped handle of the weapon. A high-pitched yelp escaped from Mogolia as he was forced to escape from his perch, wings flapping furiously to bring his body aloft while Jecht yanked the sword from where it rested. The long blade and proportionally long hilt gave the impression that it was built as a two-handed weapon, but Jecht felt confident he could wield it in just one hand given his strength. Though he did not recognize the work of the blade itself, the heft felt strangely familiar in his hands- was he meant to use this kind of tool?

"Now, then- Hey, HEY! Don't ignore me, I'm not done yet!" Jecht called back to the fleeting mass of individuals among him, some of them clearly wanting to go their own way. Jecht, however- he wasn't going to budge until he could get himself some answers to this predicament.

"Ugggh....Did anyone get the name of that...."

The ground swayed and rumbled, almost like it was water rather than solid ground beneath the woman who laid there on the grass. For some reason it felt familiar, only to be swept away in muddled thoughts and visions. Pain, joy, sadness, and a piercing emptiness that seemed like it would go on forever as she swore that she smelled sea water for a brief moment before it was gone. What it meant was impossible to tell, as consciousness slowly began to return to the blond haired woman, leaving her only with a confusing message and a single name: 'Sarisa'.

Slowly she began to wake up, her eyes flickering open to see a field of green stretching out in front of her in row upon endless row of grass. Sarisa herself was stretched out upon the same grass, oddly soft and comforting amidst the fuzzy and clouded tumult of her own mind, even as it settled for the moment. She was left to wander and wonder, trying to figure out why she couldn't....think, remember how she had gotten here.

"Hey, are you awake now, kupo?"

A slight groan escaped at the irritating noise, but Sarisa quickly realized that this one was not inside her head, and rather nearby. Her clothes rustled as she turned in place, shifting to see a small creature with a red ball on its head staring at her. For a moment there was a flash of panic, then irritation, before it settled into a dull acceptance. What was this again? Oh, right. Some silly animal.

She groaned, sitting up as she looked over at the annoying creature. "I am now," she grumbled to herself, and to her companion as she looked around. Surprisingly, it seemed like there were other people here, yet she had the feeling that something was missing. Not the gaps in her memory, which were fairly obvious, there was a deeper ache inside her, like something precious was no longer with her. Honestly, the fact that she didn't know what it was was starting to tick her off.

A hand came to rest on her knee as she examined the creature, who in turn seemed to do the same to her. "Who're you?"

"You can call me Mojito, kupo!" For speaking with such odd mannerisms, the creature had a very dull tone of voice. It was a bit annoying, but Sarisa decided that she had bigger things to worry about at the moment. "I found you here."

She grunted, bracing for a moment before rising to her feet. "Is that so? Well, thanks." It was somewhat halfhearted, since Mojito obviously hadn't done anything to help her recover or wake up, but she couldn't really be annoyed about that, when so many other things were important. She took a few steps before a glint caught in her eye, drawing her over to where a steel blade laid in the grass.

Stepping over to it, Sarisa crouched as she examined the blade before picking it up, making sure that it was sharp, checking the weight of it. It seemed passable, even if it wasn't that long. She wasn't sure, but she had the feeling that she could use the blade pretty well in a fight, if she needed to. After a few moments she decided that she had a good enough impression of it, and decided to inquire with her current companion. "Did you bring this?" she asked, looking over at Mojito.

After a moment of waiting Mojito shook his head, the red pom swaying in the wind as it accompanied the motion of his body. "No. It was here when I found you, kupo."

"Huh." Considering it for a moment, Sarisa at last gave in ad slipped the dagger into her belt, where it was securely held and easily in reach should she need it. "Guess it's mine then. Finders keepers." Not like anyone was going to argue with her, at least as far as she could tell. The presence of a weapon for self defense made her feel a bit safer, allowing her to focus on other things such as figuring out where she was.

Now that she had risen, Sarisa could get a better look at everything. Grass continued to stretch as far as the eye could see, but there were now plainly trees about as well, providing some shade and dispersed across this open field so as to not make it completely barren. Yet there was more to it, as Sarisa spotted several individuals, some like her, and others like Mojito. It seemed that many of them were headed their own ways, while a guy with a weird tattoo on his chest and a red bandana seemed content to stand there and yell at them.

With a sigh, Sarisa made her way over to the man, wary to some extent but not completely closed off even as she frowned. She didn't know anything, and it was obvious that Mojito didn't. Maybe this guy did. And besides, she had this feeling in her gut that it was better to stick together as a group, working towards a common purpose, than to go it alone. "Looks like they're in a hurry," she noted aloud as she glanced from the others departing the scene towards the man, Mojito coming up beside her. "Don't suppose you know where we are, do you?"

"Hey! Hey, wake up!" There was a weight on his chest, the feeling of cold ground beneath him, a breeze. "You're not allowed to die, Kupo!" He opened his eyes, squinting from the unexpected light. He was partially under the shade of a tree, and the branches above kept moving, allowing the light from the sun to come directly into his eyes, only to be blocked again when the leaves rustled. A shadow fell over him as a small creature put its face inches from his. "See, Kupo," it said, scrunching up its furry little nose, "I'm in charge here." It was a strange thing to wake up to. He sat up without giving the creature notice, which caused it to tumble to the ground. It protested loudly, but he was only half paying attention to it.

He was more concerned with where he was. It was beautiful. A perfect day, too. The grass and trees moved gently with the wind, and there was no building in sight. The only possible sign of civilization was the group of people he had woken up next to. Was this his group? He didn't recognize anybody. He didn't recognize this place. His thoughts were all jumbled, confused: it was a familiar feeling.

A large sword was stuck in the ground next to the tree. He went to retrieve it. The creature was saying, "Hey, you need to pay attention to me!" and stomping its feet. He rested his hand on the hilt of the sword, feeling like he should know something about it, but not knowing anything at all. He had no knowledge of it, no recognition, but why was he immediately drawn to it? He pulled it out of the ground and instinctively swung it around onto his back. Huh.

"You're in charge, huh?" The creature stopped talking for a brief moment, opened it's mouth to speak, but he beat it to it with more questions, "Where are we, then? What are we doing here?" He didn't know, and it seemed that the entire group didn't know, either. One man was yelling at people for answers, and demanding not to be ignored–must be this strange creature's owner. His best guess was they all actually did know each other, and while they were fighting some creature it cast a confuse spell of some sort. But he didn't say that. Maybe he'd bring it up in a minute.

Like giants rising from our of the tide's dark mist, the boyish Lalafell turned his head up as a veritable forest of longshanks sprang up around him. Hyurs, all, by the look of them. So, would that make these the mates that he'd been drinking with? Bringing his hand back to his forehead, the small rogue was again confronted, confounded, and confused by the absence of memory.

He didn't know.

A woman with dark hair was already walking out. Soft, pale green eyes watching her back when a sharp twang of something that might not quite have been music sprang to the little one's elvish ears. Glancing toward the sound, the white haired sailor found himself looking at a yellow haired man strumming a minstrel's harp whilst having a chat with a smallish white creature, with bat-like wings, and a furball of red over it's head.

In point of fact, they all had something rather matching the like of that description hovering about them.

"O Brave Souls of Celestia..." A whisper in his ear, a voice so strong and clear. Hooking his thumbs around the pommel of the short blades, the boyish rogue's arms settled at his hips as he stood back and turned his head to regard the strange creature next to him. Unlike the others, she was more of a brown color. With tapered ears that gave her the likeness of a rabbit. ...lost through the peril of living time...

"Peril?" the rogue echoed in a whisper. What was she on about? A warning? A threat?

Looking over, the sailor looked out over his companions. A woman going her own. A man talking of the east, as though he knew what waited for them there. And another two talking of who was in charge. The bunny-in-a-dress was whispering still, her voice smooth as it sent shivers up his spine.

"Your End awaits at the horizon of your Origin:
To the South, and be delighted by the glamor of greed;
To the North, and be freed in the eddy of despair;
To the East, and be soothed by the poison of lust;
To the West, and be drowned in the sin of pride."

"Well, that sounds lovely," Underfoot muttered darkly. Sin and lust and greed and all. Pirates on parade, except they looked to be bloody far from the shore. Looking back at the furry prophet, the boyish imp wryly tossed back a question. "And which would you be recommendin' then?"

"South," the bunny-in-a-dress answered, without any hesitation. The confidence she presented took the Lalafell back a step, his mouth slightly agape. "To Areiadune," the moppet added, with a firmness that bordered on ominous.

"Areiadune? A place?" Underfoot asked, trying to recall and finding himself coming up with naught but mere scraps of half-recalled dreams. "You said Celestia earlier. Is that what this place is? Is this Celestia?"

"The world is Celestia," the winged rabbit answered. "This region is Grasveldt. The plains."

Celestia. Grasveldt. "And south is Areiadune," the rogue said. It was less of a question, though he elicited a nod from the moppet to ensure that he was understanding everything correctly to the point.

Well, that was something anyway.

Striding out toward the middle of the circle around where the Hyurs had sprung up like weeds on a Goobbue, the rogue called out, "Oy! You lot o' big'uns." The Lalafell waddled slightly as he walked, giving him something of a child's swagger, with an accented voice like that of a young cabin boy's. Pointing a thumb back toward the overgrown mouse in a dress, the impish figure said, "That one says we go south. Some place called Areiadune."

A loud, male, and most likely human voice caught Edward's attention before he got too far. Curiously he turned towards the source of the voice, to find that there was another person nearby. Several actually. Well...didn't he feel stupid? He was pretty sure that he hadn't seen them before, yet here they were now. The only explanation that made sense was that they had been lying in the tall grass. Anna giggled at the fact that they had missed them completely. "Oh, I didn't realize they'd be so close to you." She said, grabbing onto Edward's collar for balance. Something about the way she spoke made Edward think she knew more than she was saying. "Anna, do you know something about this situation?" He asked, doubting he was actually going to get anything.

As he thought, Anna pat his cheek. "I do, but I can't say anything, Celestia's rules." Edward smiled, she told him something after all, even if it wasn't what he really wanted to know. "Ah, so this is Celestia then? It's very different from...from... well, somewhere I've been." Edward frowned at the image that popped into his mind for a split second, then faded again. Was that, some sort of desert kingdom? A name was on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn't force it out. He felt like it was important though. It was very frustrating to have these hints of memories that just wouldn't come out.

Short conversation over, Edward decided it was probably a good idea to talk to these new people. Maybe one of them knew something after all. He jogged up to the loud man who had spoken before, seemingly not phased by the large sword he was now holding. All he had was a freaking harp, if something wanted to kill him, it probably could. If the man with the sword was an ally, Edward wanted to be close to him. "I uh, don't suppose you're some sort of godsend who knows where we are and has their memories are you?" He asked, already knowing the answer to that.

Before he could get an answer though, another voice sounded. The owner of the voice was a small creature that wasn't familiar to Edward. Whatever it was, it was adorable. Even it was armed better than he was. The harp must of have been some kind of weapon then, but what was he supposed to do with it? Entertain his enemies? Bash them in the head? He'd have to figure out his to use it quickly. The small, adorable, creature mentioned something about them going south, to a place called Areiadune. "Areiadune, huh? Not like we have any other leads to go off of." He said with a shrug. He didn't care where they went first really. He just knew he wanted to stay close to the people with actual weapons.

With little more than an exasperated sigh, Jecht shrugged with his unencumbered shoulder and promptly threw that hand down again in frustration. Being out in the middle of some godforsaken field didn't quite bother the burly fellow as much as the fact that he couldn't get any of his memories straight. It was like being eternally drunk, without the happy buzz that would turn the visual world into a blur too.

"Looks like they're in a hurry."

Jecht glanced to his side, finding the new voice to be a refreshment in this sea of problems so far. The owner of that dulcet tone, however, bore a face that was looking to solve a few problems of her own. Unmistakably female locks of blonde hair trailed behind a rogue's brigandine, expressing a woman of little femininity. She continued, "Don't suppose you know where we are, do you?"

The blitzballer only stared back at her, seeming to absorb her features carefully. Not familiar. "What, do I look like that kind of guy? Don't you go telling me we're in the same boat," Jecht retorted, not quite able to contain the aggravation from infecting his words.

"Kupo! Listen to me!"

"Gah- what do you want?" The guardian whirled around to meet his moogle again, face-to-face.

"I'm trying to help, kupo! If you would just hear me out-"

"Hey, get a load of this," Jecht turned back to the stranger, perfectly insulting Mogolia. As the furry creature started to turn a shade of red to rival its pom-pom, the man rattled off, "The freaking fairy-tale creature want to help me. Can you believe that?"

Finally, the moogle reached his boiling point, and out of sheer anger charged the burly figure in a full body slam. Though Mogolia's inferior size and toughness made the attack resolutely less effective, it was still impact enough to shove back Jecht's head and get the moogle's point across. "Don't make fun of me, kupoooooo-!"

"Why, you-!" Jecht swung his armored arm in retaliation as the moogle redoubled its assault. The bulky athlete's vain attempts to knock away the nimble creature only succeeded in making a fool of himself in front of the crowd he had tried to amass. As Mogolia evaded Jecht's reach once again, the man forced himself to stop and take a breath- and then turned his head to fully face the bard that had also come up to him, now wearing a rather confounded expression.

"Er."

"I uh, don't suppose you're some sort of godsend who knows where we are and has their memories, are you?"

Jecht could only sigh in defeat. This day just wasn't working out for him very much. He slid his claimed sword down to bury the tip in the dirt, proceeding to lean on it halfway.

"Oy! You lot o' big'uns. That one says we go south. Some place called Areiadune."

It took a moment for Jecht to take note of the imp owning the brash pirate voice, and the face that he was pointing out something that had given them information. That one? He couldn't be talking about that lagomorph in a nightgown behind him, could he? This getting to be some sort of massive practical joke, and the blitzballer couldn't bring himself to laugh for a moment. Yet, he also couldn't shake off how familiar this was all feeling. Ah, geez...

"Areiadune, huh?" Jecht finally responded, in the interest of saying something and not just laying there like a monument to idiocy. "So what about it? What's there?

"And, uh... which way is south?"

Slowly a group began to coalesce into existence, Sarisa watching as those who had seemed intent on wandering before began to gather with her and her current companion, forming a group so they could debate or talk over their situation. She supposed that in this case a common sharing of knowledge would be alright, since it wasn't like she had anything to go on. A slight smile escaped as Jecht and his Moogle began to fight each other, but it was tempered by the knowledge that he was as much in the dark as she was right now.

It did seem to have drawn some attention, though, a blond man with ha harp approaching while some other fellow with a giant sword stood on his own for now. "Sorry, can't help you there," she replied with a shake of her head as he asked if she had her memories and knew where they were. Well then, surprisingly it seemed that she wasn't the only one with this problem. It seemed reasonable to assume that they all did.

She would be forgiven for not noticing he smaller being there until he had spoken, calling out to them and saying that his Moogle apparently had a direction for them to go in. It was something, if it was true. "That right," she asked, looking back to Mojito.

"Yep, kupo," Mojito confirmed with a nod, looking at the the Moogles present. Well then, it was interest to see that everyone else had Moogles with them too. Sarisa wondered why, but didn't ask about it.

Instead she focused on more important things, head swiveling to take in the entire landscape. There was no point in sticking around here, but given that she had no memory, it might not have been the wisest choice. "What do you think," she asked Mojito.

The Moogle hopped in place, giving its version of a shrug, or so it appeared to her. "Sounds good to me, kupo." At that point another woman drew near, drawing Sarisa's attention away as she began to talk. At least they had another person now, but the good mood rapidly vanished with words and actions that Sarisa was able to witness at the moment.

The way the woman looked at Sarisa like she was some dumb brute, and the way she talked with a pompous haughtiness immediately set SDarisa on edge. The woman frowned, her hand twitching for the dagger on her belt before she decided that it was a bad idea. Not that she wasn't confident in her skills, but a fight right now didn't seem like the wisest decision.

Nonetheless, she would not remain silent in the face of this obvious bias and smug superiority. "Oy," she spat out, glaring at the unnamed woman. "Don't think that you get to be in charge just because you're in fancy clothes and can use big words. I'm not being some brute muscle so you can hide in back. And the name's Sarisa Tycoon, if anyone cares." If she wanted to argue that, she could take her best shot.

The bard with the blond hair seemed agreeable.

Some big-haired chap was asking which way was south when some blonde gone and opened her mouth. In less time than it took an Elezen to turn his nose up, the austere lass had summarily belittled, badgered, and buggered about in a verbose bit of both vitriol and vacive commentary on the whole lot. Now, being just a simple pirate, the small Lalafellin rogue was left, mouth agape, throughout the whole travesty which resulted from the lady speaking.

More the pity, that, as it permitted another lass to speak before Underfoot could have gone and done or said something rash. This one was also a blond, but far less a bitch about it.

Whilst she was speaking, however, the small Lalafell had a slight buzzing in his ear. It was a mild annoyance at first, until it grew from a faint sound at the edge of his hearing to a whisper. Stealing his attention away from the two women, the boyish rogue found himself straining to hear a voice.

But who was speaking? It didn't seem to be any of them. Nor the spriggan-like beasties. Or, at least, the voice suggested as much. So, for all the talk, it left more questions than answers.

Not that Underfoot was all that good with questions to start with. He liked dealing with facts. Puzzles, even. And it seemed that the only fact they really had at this point was that there was something to the south of here, and what direction that might have been.

"That way," the Lalafell offered finally, pointing as he spoke in the direction that the spriggan in the fancy nightshirt had directed him toward earlier.

He didn't ask about the voice. He didn't give his name. He just answered the man's question from before, because as far as he could tell, that was the only fact left to them. "South is that way."