Ethan hadn't a single clue what the name Starsion meant as it was his first time ever hearing it. Funny that Amuné knew of it though, it went to show just how "back water" his home was by comparison. So that made a Dimuran princess and some noble healer by the sounds of it, quite the crew they were gathering for themselves. Hearing the little Ydran girl's comment about Zander he barely suppressed a snorting laugh, taking the girl's hand and smiling. He might be difficult but that didn't make him a bad person, just as it didn't make Nymira a bad person; there was a notable difference between this Zander and the one from earlier in the day, already it seemed like he was coming around. Given a little more time and Ethan was confident they'd have another friend yet.

'Dumb meanie' was markedly better than what Nymira had in mind to call Zander, refraining for Amuné's sake. To hear he would indeed be coming with them despite her and Amuné's wishes was frustrating yet she expected it at this point. If they ran into those two men again from the river she wouldn't be terribly surprised if Ethan tried to befriend them either, regardless of how many times they were nearly killed as a result. Rolling her eyes at the thought she glanced to Geoffrey as he spoke up again, frowning when he announced he'd be coming along as well. This was not some traveling circus or pleasure trip, she had a job to do out here and she couldn't do that with so many people! Infuriating however it may be none of them knew the area, she certainly didn't trust Ethan's sense of direction and Cecil was far too out of it, meaning they had little alternative.

"Well thanks Geoffrey! You two really don't have to do that for us, but we appreciate it," Ethan said with a smile, giving Amuné's hand a gentle squeeze and looking down at her, "So the big meanie and his friend are going to travel with us for a bit, but we'll keep doing what we were doing." Find Amuné's parents, get Nymira to meet with other people in power, help Cecil figure out where he was made and then his goal, it was a quickly growing list of objectives. If Zander was traveling with them permanently now as well he no doubt had some goals, goals which could take them all over the kingdom. Could be seen as a hassle but he saw it instead as a chance to learn more about Adelon: considering Ethan had rarely ventured further than neighboring villages this was invaluable experience for him.

"Yes... Thank you, I'll be sure you're repaid for this kindness," Nymira added stiffly, "But we really should be going. Never mind our business here, if we want to retrieve our things then we need to get back to the ship. And Cecil requires aid, though I don't know where Norman might be." Traveling back to Galloway would cost them dearly in terms of time, not to mention there was no guarantee the buffoon would even be at his shop. Having one of her retainers injured was unacceptable regardless and she knew there was little chance of Cecil performing his job well if he was hurt. Being a Machina as well she wondered if Norman might be able to fix whatever had him all out of sorts, maybe his brain wasn't working properly. "Zander, if you are coming with us are you fit to travel? I'd prefer not to wait any longer if we can help it."

Right, they were going to have to somehow get Cecil help before they got too far. If he were a Muran or any living being they could just have a resident healer look at him and be done with it, but he required special attention. Considering their friend was somehow special too he didn't think it a good idea to have just anyone work on Cecil either, meaning they had to find Norman. Like Nymira pointed out he may or may not be back in Galloway, he may be here for all they knew, finding him was going to be a challenge. While Nymira "chatted" with Zander, Ethan looked back to Cecil and glanced at the dent in his head, his mouth pulling into a line before he turned it into a smile. "How are you holding up? Is your head still uh... Still hurting? I know you don't usually rest but do you need to lay down?"

---

For all the Church's influence and power there were still parts of the kingdom left in the dark. Whether they didn't care or didn't know some sections of larger cities were notorious for their crime, for trafficking and murder and smuggling goods among the few offenses. In spite of its growing power and the ever expanding ranks of guards and soldiers the black markets thrived as they always had, and likely would continue to grow as time progressed. In one such place something of a bidding war was currently taking place: not over food or weapons, not over drugs or any material goods but over Ydrans. Something of a rarity in this part of the world there was high demand for their kind, for their prowess in the wilds as well as their appearances. Some people with... Discerning tastes might pay a small fortune to own one or two, and there tended to be a particularly large audience for younger Ydrans. Today's group saw old and young alike, chained leg to leg with arms locked at their backs, corralled together on stage like cattle.

"2 Gold coins for the woman here, 2 Gold coins! She's a mother of two and strong in body and mind. She'll make an excellent servant in any home and a good caretaker of your children! Let's start the bidding at 2 Gold coins!" In the crowd of roughly 50 people half a dozen hands shot up, causing the man to grin behind his long beard in delight. "2 Gold, 2 Gold! Do I hear 3 Gold? 3 Gold for this lovely woman?" Waving one of his workers on they unlinked her from the rest, pushing her to the forefront of the stage. Grabbing her by the back of her shirt he forced her onto her knees, then placing a hand on her chin to lift her face for all to see clearly. "Look at her! Perfect and delicate, yet strong! What man in his right mind doesn't want a woman like this? Come now, surely she's worth at least 3 Gold!" More hands shot up this time and calls of 3 Gold quickly rose, then 4. Simply having a woman to do one's work was appealing to few, but show that she had looks and suddenly men in the room became far more vetted in purchasing her. It worked every time, they liked to think themselves high class and intelligent but, at the end of the day, they all gave into their lust. And like a minstrel played his lute he'd learned exactly how to make them sing his tune.

At last a man had won the bid, 5 Gold Coins for the rights to the Ydran woman. Watching as she was led off to be prepared for her departure he glanced back at the rest, debating on who to sell next. One of her children was broken down into tears by now and being yelled at by his guards, making the man roll his eyes in disgust. Life was hard, the sooner the children accepted that the stronger they would be for it. At least they had made it this far, there were several who died on the journey, and more still who died in the villages, resisting capture. Enslaved or not they would live on, they should consider that a blessing. "Right, now we'll move on to this man here!" he shouted, waving forward an elderly Ydran, "I'm told he's an exceptional craftsman and unparalleled in his woodworking! Anyone with an artisan in the family or who owns a shop could benefit immensely from his skill! Hell, I've seen it myself, the man makes some fine products!" he began, grinning once more as he scanned the crowd, "Let's start the bidding at 60 Silvers!"

Cecil didn’t really have his attention on the conversation, nor was he wanting to add anything to it. He was certain he was just wasting time standing around in this room with all of them and even the comment that he should proceed to consume something like some organic being might do didn’t have his attention. He was not going to pretend to eat just to make the person feel better about him, pretending to eat wouldn’t do anything to help him. All he could do was stand around and wait for the exchange to come to a conclusion, feeling regret that he didn’t just resist Ethan’s prompts to get out of the cart and come inside. He wasn’t of any use standing around nor was he involved in this conversation they were all having, wasting their time with having to watch over him too.

As everything as drawing to a conclusion it seemed the guy was going to travel with them, making him wonder why everyone needed to be in here. He was not really understanding the whole process and why it needed everyone to convince this guy to go with them, especially when he didn’t fully understand why they needed him that badly. The concept of healing wasn’t something he was completely familiar with but if they needed him this bad that they had to practically beg to get him to come along with them then it must’ve been important. Looking to the others he slowly moved to them again, still trying to keep his distance just in case he wasn’t going to be welcome going near them. He was hoping to be as quiet as possible and just blend into the background, just so he wouldn’t bother the others by accidentally bumping into them and set off the animal. He was afraid that he would be damaged more if that creature lashed out at him again.

Staring down for a moment in a blank stare as if contemplating life he looked up to Nymira when she mentioned his name, realising she was talking about getting him fixed. It was something like sending Norman a message and he would be able to find him eventually, but problem with that was his memory felt like it had been damaged or rather he was in too much of a rut to think about how to do it again. He felt like he didn’t deserve to be repaired, not when he betrayed everyone. His faulty senses would just have to be his punishment for acting recklessly. They couldn’t go on a detour back the way they came just because he screwed up, that would be pointless and a waste of time. Feeling a little worried that he was just wasting all of their time now he looked to Ethan before reaching up to his cap, pulling it down over the damaged part of his head. “I-I-…I don’t know what purpose that would serve…” he spoke, slowly looking away, “I can, uhh…repair myself. Don’t worry, I’ll just-…I-I’ll be fine…” He couldn’t even understand why he was so concerned over a Machina. He was only pretending to be one of them when in reality he wasn’t even close to being one of them. “Just keep me in the cart. I’ll-I’ll-I’ll stay out of the way there”.

Geoffrey shook himself as if he had lost his train of thought in the middle of a conversation. "Ain' no problem. Figured..." coughing to get the "frog" out of his throat. "I have figured, since Zander is travelling with you. None of you are from around this area. Plus, if the guard does happen to stop us, I can get us out of it. Travellers round these parts usually hire meself or one of the barmaids."

Zander scowled at the younger and opened his mouth when Nymira's question cut across him. He felt light headed mind you, tired still, and he didn't really have a horse to travel on. His stead had been left at the family stables all those moons ago. Geoffrey would offer him to ride with him, but they both stood about the same height. It would make it awkward, and would probably give the little one a laughing fit. Turning his gaze to Cecil as he stuttered about still, Zander couldn't help but feel at a loss. He knew nothing of Machina. Sure the outside looked organic, and the insides probably wouldn't take any healing he would try.

"I have no horse," Zander stated pointing down to his well worn sandals. "I've either gotten a ride with a caravan of travellers, or walked wherever the wind takes me. Having my Seal Papers helps, everyone can use healing..." He tappered off there and looked again at Cecil. "Is there nothing I can do, to help you relax... Can you even sleep for that matter? Would that help at all?"

Geoffrey tilted his head, why wouldn't Cecil be able to sleep? Zander was a better healer than most he had met. Was he missing something. Tilting his head the other way he replayed the conversations going on, something about someone needing to repair Cecil. Mayhap he misheard, than again, he had seen all sorts of strange folk, so maybe this Cecil had Machina body parts and that's what was bothering him. Geoffrey shrugged.

"You can ride with me Zander," he told the other Myuran. "It'll look silly but I don't trust you on a horse right now. Ya passed out once, needn't let it 'appen again."

Zander scowled and let it go. He; however, couldn't help the grin when Amuné glared at him. He knew she didn't like him, and he had a feeling they wouldn't get along well either. She knew his family, better reason to keep her away so she didn't ask questions that didn't need answered. Turning back to Nymira, "Geo will guide us to the next town I guess... So, when do we leave?"

Geoffrey headed out into the main room of the bar, waving Bev over with the packed food and a scowl set on his face. Addressing her to take it out to the travellers cart, he sprinted up the stairs, heading for his room. Stepping inside he took a deep breath and scowled harder at his mother. "They'll be leavin' soon.. Ya sure ya can 'andle the Inn and da Bar when I'mmaway??"

"He was burning his papers," Olga ignored her sons question. His bow and quiver already laid out on his bed. A pack...packed with clothing and minor essentials. "I want you to keep away from town for awhile. Don't argue with me boy! When the town finds out we had a Magi staying here, one that killed the mayor. Questions are going to be asked. I'll send word through the group when you can come back. No sooner no later." Olga handed him his flute as well. "Get! You been wantin' an 'cuse to see tha' world, get! Leave this old woman to man the income."

Geoffrey hugged her tight, and felt dread fill him. If she was talking about sending word to him through the Pirates that she once worked with, that meant things were going to get serious here. Hugging her tighter and listening to her wheezing breaths, he grabbed his pack and went back down to meet the group. His scowl leaving him as he watched the odd group try to get along.

"If you can repair yourself then why'd we find Norman before?" Ethan asked, smirking as he questioned Cecil. Reaching up he gave his friend a pat on the arm, turning his body in his seat to better face him. "If anyone here is sick or hurt we help them first, got it? We go out of our way to help people we don't even know, of course we're going to help our friends too." With how afraid Cecil was earlier it didn't seem likely that he was as fine as he claimed to be. Honestly most everyone was shaken up from today, it just happened the Machina had freaked out more than anyone else. Ignoring all of that because he said he was fine was just out of the question here.

"We leave as soon as possible, which means we're waiting on you," Nymira answered as she scrutinized Zander, "I know you're tired, we all are, but we must keep moving. As soon as we're a ways from this place I imagine we'll be taking a break, we can rest then." If the healer was accustomed to a cushy lifestyle before this then he was going to be in for a rude awakening. As she understood the situation he was traveling himself, yet he likely didn't have remotely the same hardships they did. Today was more hectic than usual but it was a good representation of their journey thus far, she thought. If they survived today's ordeal then she was tentatively confident they wouldn't fail her as retainers. Not completely anyways.

Nymira had the right of it, departing sooner rather than later was in their best interest. As the situation stood there was little in their favor concerning the death of the mayor, and especially concerning Zander's hand in it. They may be able to explain their presence at the manor, yet any bystander would have seen them gone in, and then leave after the chaos that unfolded. At the very least they would be kept in holding for a while and questioned, time which none of them could afford to waste. "If everyone's in agreement then we can probably get going right now," Ethan said as he pushed himself to his feet, stifling a groan as his body ached in protest. All that magic today had really left him in a sorry state, he'd sleep like a log tonight no doubt.

Upon Geoffrey's eventual return they were gathered up and prepared to move again. Their cart being just outside made loading up quite convenient, and with Geoffrey providing a third horse for Zander and himself there was no issue of how to transport everyone. Once everyone was settled in they were able to leave without much hassle, save for the small crowds bidding Geoffrey a farewell; to them he was but a simple innkeeper's son, yet it appeared that the boy held something of a reputation with his fellow townsfolk. Hopefully he wouldn't be too sorely missed on this journey of there's as there was no knowing when they might return to East Orosi. Whatever he had on his person had best serve him well, and whatever goodbyes were made should hopefully do enough until his return.

"We've got to get back to the ship first, get back whatever we can before we leave for good," Ethan pointed out as they traveled along. With the docks at their back they were all but removed from the town once more, for the third time today they traveled down the road trailing along the river. Easing up his grip on the reins he leaned forward to rest on Jorvind, inadvertently resting his head on top of Amuné's. Keeping his eyes open right now was a struggle with how tired he felt, and play it off as much as he tried to there was no denying he'd be out before long. Certainly wasn't doing himself any favors by not eating either, he reflected, a hand going to his stomach thoughtfully. A meal before sleeping would do wonders.

For her part Nymira hoped at the very least her daggers would still be on the ship. Crafting new ones would be easy, though she lacked the resources to do so. Something in the cart might be suitable yet she'd prefer not using sub-par ingredients for her weaponry. She supposed Zander had left his staff at the ship as well, and while a piece of wood hardly compared to a finely crafted blade it would be easier for him to retrieve that as well. "If there are guards still at the ship we should simply request our items back, I doubt word has spread out here just yet," she pointed out to the group, frowning however as she looked ahead, "If they should know though... I don't imagine they'll simply hand our weapons back to us. We'd best be ready for a bit of a fight."

"We won't fight the guards, that's not going to do us any favors," Ethan interjected as he sat upright again, running a hand along his face before shaking his head, "Hm... If we have to leave them behind then we will, no sense in creating more problems for ourselves." She was much too eager to fight, either that or those daggers meant more to Nymira than she let on. Simply put picking a fight with guards now would not only be risky, given how exhausted they were, but it would only incriminate them further. Running away was bad enough without leaving some officials lying in the dirt in their wake.

Cecil frowned at Ethan’s rebuttal, raising his shoulders briefly. “That was a battery! J-Just…a battery…no big deal…” Lowering his head a little he gasped when Ethan touched his arm, his eyes quickly looking to it before down at Ethan. He just didn’t understand, he wasn’t like them so being ‘sick’ or ‘hurt’ wasn’t a category he fell into. He didn’t know what organic beings saw sick or hurt being like in terms of machinery, he didn’t even know how they interpreted that themselves. Feeling confused he shook his head, his hand reaching up again to his damaged spot. They were all just wasting their time with him, they were just going to lose their money getting him repaired every time he screwed up.

Knowing they were going to leave meant he was going to follow along and not get in the way, feeling like he should just switch off when he got in the cart. He wasn’t going to find somebody who would repair him without becoming frightened over what he was or wanting to exploit him in some fashion. Looking to Zander when he questioned possible methods to make him feel better he stepped back slightly before shaking his head, looking away. “No…no, that doesn’t h-help…” If he went into sleep mode he would just come out feeling the same if only a little more recharged. His feelings and memories wouldn’t change, his brain wasn’t like theirs. Glancing at Geoffrey he almost immediately looked away again, raising his shoulders as he rubbed his head.

He just couldn’t understand it. The whole desiring to help him didn’t compute when he had caused so much trouble and had effectively caused more trouble with the entire group. He brought a sense of unease to the group with that attack of his, not to mention he was very obviously a danger to them all. These repairs he was needing was only going to cause them all to have to head back the way to Norman’s if it was decided upon that, sending them back a whole day’s worth of travel. Once it was finally time to leave he was slow to climb into the cart, hesitation bringing him to a gradual halt before he finally settled in and packed himself tight to avoid getting in the way. Once everyone was settled to go he kept himself low, pulling at his cap a little to hide his head.

While he was tucking himself away he was still listening out to the others, trying to come to an understanding as to what their next plans were going to be. Even if he didn’t feel he should be a part of their group he still felt the need to know where they were going to go next. If they were thinking about going back the way to Norman he would have to stop them from wasting their time. There would be so little good in going back the way just because he couldn’t function correctly, it wasn’t as if he was leaking fluid like they might. Hearing that the plan was to go back to the ship and see if there was anybody around for their weapons, he let out a groan, raising his shoulders. It was like going back to the crime scene for him, he didn’t even know how they might feel about it if only to check on their weapons. Amuné was probably going to hate going back and only end up hating him more. Feeling downright terrible there was a strange feeling inside him to add onto it all, a feeling of emptiness even though everyone was still around him.

Geoffrey stalked towards the stables, but forced a smile on his face. He didn't know why he was annoyed at basically being told to leave the town. It wasn't like his mother to instantly send him away like this. Did she know something that she wasn't letting on when he had been entertaining the group he was going to travel with? To settle himself, he clutched the flute he dug out of his sack, and put it between his teeth with a clack. His horse pranced in the stables, and Geoffrey let his worries leave him as he saddled her and her mate. Zander would be learning to ride sooner rather than later to make up for time.

As he brought them out, and Ethan and his group got settled, he waved good-bye to the crowd, stating he was taking this group to the next town and using some misdirection stated they wanted to take the scenic route. They would travel out the North Gate and than head West towards the village and along the wall.

Zander's scowl when he was told he would be riding solo, along with the boy falling flat on his arse when he misjudged the amount of force behind the jump to get on, was well worth this. He laughed, and ignored Zander's muttered cursing and patted the spoiled priest on the head. Helping him get up and explaining how to be gentle with his horses mate, he jumped onto his horse. Waved goodbye to the crowd and placed the flute to his lips and let a sweet song take over.

Zander felt sore all over, and a little ashamed of not thinking of the rest of the group being just as worn out as he was. He didn't know how to help Cecil, and every attempt to get close seemed to be met with weary eyes and uncertainty. It bothered him, but for now he'd set it aside to pay attention to what he was doing. He had never actually ridden a horse. Not that he could recall any time of doing such an odd act. Watching Ethan place his head on Amuné's head he shook his own. As he went to open his mouth to say something cruel, he stopped. Nymira had warned him and Geoffrey had booted his leg when he saw Zander's mouth open to catch flies.

Geoffrey still with his hands still on the flute, and his knees guiding his horse, he pushed her into a trot to get beside Ethan. He let the words sink in, they wanted their weapons back. Understandably so, but the guard would be most hostile towards them. "Leave 'em to me than. If you lot don' mind sharing some of da food me ma packed.."

"Geo," Zander called after him. "Speak like a person... You're slang is sticking out like a sore thumb."

Rolling his eyes, clearing his throat and throwing Zander a patient look, "Yes, MiLord! The world and it's riches for you, MiLord." He winked at Amuné as he spoke now. He was hoping to soothe the tension between the two. "Anyroads," he chuckled a little at Zander's glaring at him. "Ethan right? Why not let the little lady ride with me? You get some rest in the cart. You look tired and if I didn't know, a little older looking at the moment. Old men should rest when their bones are weary." Grinning now. He wasn't sure how this would be taken. If he was to actually guide them. He'd guide them his way. "Plus," Geoffrey added. "If the young lady here, Amuné right? Prefers it, I'm sure Serina here would gladly lead your horse as you rest."

He let the seriousness in his eyes show as he cast a glance at Nymira. He would no more order her around, nor tell her what to do. She was a Dimura. They could handle themselves, and if the regal lady decided to rest. She would. He could just tell by the way she kept her back straight even on the horse. Getting a little closer to Ethan if he wanted to pass the young girl off to him easier.

"The guards know me," Geoffrey went back to the main topic. "Let me speak for you. Show them food and good mead, and they will let me gather what I want. My mother will cover anything else for this. She's no fan of pirates that pillage her home port."

Zander scowled at the back of Geoffrey's head as he got friendly with Ethan. He wasn't worried about the younger man's affections, but more of feeling a little left out. He pulled in a little more, and turned his attention to what had caught it earlier. As they had been going, he felt the Cursed Seal Paper in his pouch like it was a fire against his bare skin. When they finally rested, he would try a hotter flame to burn the tainted paper. He scowled down at his side pouch and pulled his hoodie on tighter.

"I doubt the guard will be hostile. Word shouldn't have spread out here yet," Ethan remarked tiredly, putting on a smile to try and hide it, "If worst comes to worst we can always try and lie. Say we finished in town and were coming to retrieve our things." He didn't much care for lying yet in this case it was far better than the truth; the mayor was dead, several of their comrades too and they were hoping all that would be ignored, so could they have their things back? Optimistic as he might be even he knew how poorly that would go over. Hearing a request to allow Amuné to ride with Geoffrey he turned to the latter, seeming to deliberate it if only for a second before shaking his head.

"No, that's alright. I don't want to be sleeping just yet and having her to mind keeps me attentive..." Ethan began before laughing breathlessly, "Well... Attentive-ish. Besides she's gone as far to name this horse, I think its fair she gets to ride the one she's named." He would sleep once they had camp established, once everyone was well and set in and the danger had passed. He could never forgive himself if he passed out now and something were to happen to anyone. Doubtless the others were in the same state as him anyways, if they could manage then so could he.

Nymira was fine to have someone act as her guide in these unknown lands. She was even fine with being given suggestions as to where to travel for her mission. Having someone speak on her behalf though? And to do so without her permission? Unallowable, and certainly not someone who carried themselves as commonfolk and who spoke in such tongues that she could scarcely understand him. "I think we'll be fine addressing the guards ourselves," the Dimuran added in with a frown, "We were there involved in the fighting, I think it best this comes from us anyway." It was their deeds and in turn it should be them that spoke of the issue, not Geoffrey. To do so showed a level of detachment and refusal of acceptance of their actions. Had things gone south on the ship? Perhaps, but it wasn't going to disappear if they tried distancing themselves, best to accept it now. Same could be said of the mayor's incident, but that was well out of their control: this they had a say in.

As the trees began to thin, signaling the shore up ahead, the group would be made aware of a dull droning noise up ahead. At first it sounded similar to a creature's growling, albeit oddly consistent and steady. The horses didn't appear to be terribly unnerved by the noise either if only confused, their ears perked and movements slowed somewhat as they no doubt were trying to place the sound themselves. The noise began to draw closer and increase in volume, and before anything became visible a cloud of dust could be seen up ahead on the road. Drawing the horses to a halt Ethan reflexively reached down to his hip for his sword, forgetting he no longer possessed it and instead trying to muster up whatever minute traces of magic he had left. Was it a beast? Some kind of known monster? They needed to be ready for anything, and the timing on this encounter couldn't be worse.

The situation wasn't confusing enough without seeing a man riding towards them, mounted on something unknown and traveling at a high speed. As the figure drew nearer they caught sight of a familiar cropping of blond hair, a worn duster jacket swaying in the wind. It was Norman approaching them, that much they now knew, but just what in the world was he riding? The mechanic must have spotted them as his mount slowed its pace to nearly a halt, the rumbling noise emanating from it dying down until it was all but silent. He was covered in dust and oil, his eyes hidden behind a thick pair of goggles and a bemused smile on his lips. The looks on some of their faces told him they had never seen anything like this before, though very few people had. It wasn't completely dissimilar to the reaction the guards had given him upon arriving either, no one knew what to make of it.

"Well, fancy meeting you kids all the way out here. Didn't expect to run into you here," Norman greeted, smirking as he pulled up the goggles to his forehead, his eyes cleaner than the rest of his caked face. "What's got you out here anyway? Going to inspect that ship?"

"Er... Actually we're heading back there. We were the ones who fought on it," Ethan admitted sheepishly as he continued to stare at the contraption beneath Norman, "It's uh... Well we left some things back there and we were hoping to get them back before we left. I don't suppose you saw any weapons or anything back there?" Hopefully he didn't ask about what happened, even if Ethan was confident Norman wouldn't think any lesser of them for it. Even Cecil's attack had been in self defense, they hadn't done anything on that ship out of cold blood.

Norman smiled knowingly as he swung a leg over his motorbike, nodding as he walked around to the back of it. "In fact I do, I even found them. Guards there mentioned they belonged to you, said I should bring them back to Orosi and hand them in. Whatever went on that ship sure must have been one hell of a fight, the poor things all beat up," he commented, unlatching a pack on the rear of his machine. From inside the pack he fetched Nymira's daggers, wrapped together in a cloth and bound by twine, handing them over to the Dimuran as she hurried down to fetch them. "Found this staff here as well on my way back, I'm assuming it belongs to one of you," Norman added as he glanced around, handing it over to Zander when he raised a hand, "I just got done repairing the engines on that ship, have to say you kids sure know how to make a scene."

"Well... To be fair it wasn't completely our doing," Ethan laughed, rubbing at his neck awkwardly as he tried to explain, "We uh... Well the thing is we were asked to get the ship back. There were just bandits at first, and then some men showed up and complicated things. Somehow we made it out of that mess in one piece." Considering how some of the men ended up in all the fighting they had gotten off remarkably easily, with little to show for the ideal aside from some minor cuts and fatigue. Seeing the others get their weapons back was of somewhat relief too, knowing that at least some of them were armed now.

"There's no honor among your people, Norman. They attack without reason and steal from one another like its nothing. I don't understand you Murans at all," Nymira said with a shake of her head. "Still... I suppose you were right before, not all of your kind are thieves or hopeless buffoons. Even Ethan has proven to have his worth." Ignoring the proverbial cloud she'd created over Ethan's head she unwrapped her daggers, inspecting them briefly before returning them to their homes at their sides. Then, knitting her brow together the Dimuran looked up to Norman expectantly, a hand going to her hip. "Since no one else has asked yet... What in the world are you riding on?"

The head of the vehicle, if it could be called a head, was crafted of some silver metal and shaped in the head of a horse. That aside nothing of the machine was recognizable. There were two wheels on it, one in the front and the other in the back, and long poles connecting the former to some kind of steering device. A leather seat sat between the wheels and some kind of mess of piping and a large, blocky object sat beneath that. She had never seen anything like it, and clearly neither had any of the others.

Norman smiled proudly as he was asked about his creation, his eyes shining with a certain delight as he was given a chance to explain. "This, my dear, is my latest invention. I call it a "motorbike", isn't she beautiful?" he mused, running a hand along the seat before gesturing to the assorted pipes. "It's a vehicle propelled completely on Demacite, and it travels even faster than a horse might. Beneath the seat here is a housing unit for a demacite crystal, and then circuits from that travel through the piping here, to both wheels through the undercarriage. By using the handles here," Norman explained, gripping the throttle on the front, "I can increase or decrease the flow of energy. It's quite ingenious if I say so myself. By using Demacite's energy properties I can convert the magic into raw power, making the vehicle capable of-"

"I asked what it was, not for a complete lesson on its parts," Nymira said exasperatedly, "I see that's how you managed to get this far so quickly though. I don't recall seeing this in your shop..."

"Because I had it hidden. It's not much of a secret project if it's out in plain view now is it?" Smiling at the cross look on Nymira's face the engineer looked past her to the rest of the group, noting how worn down everyone was. Whatever had happened on that ship certainly took its toll, some of them looked more than ready to pass out. A few new faces among the mix as well he noted, one of which had certainly seen better days. "Glad to see you're all well despite that battle, I can only imagine how difficult it must have been," Norman mused, looking then towards the cart and to Cecil, "Ah, how're you holding up there Cecil? Any problems since your last visit?"

Cecil remained out of the way and quiet in the back of the cart, keeping very much to himself at this point. He was certainly a little concerned that he was making the wrong decision to keep going with these people, he didn’t even know if they still saw him as a friend anymore. If something like what happened on the ship happened again then they were better off destroying him. He didn’t know how his life might compare to a real person’s life or whether he was in the same league as them, he didn’t even know his limitations and whether there was a way to shut him down without having to touch him if things went wrong. It would probably be for the best if he was going to be controlled in some fashion by the others, much like how those Machina at the manor were controlled up until their master died.

The images of those Machina dying in such violent manners got to him quite a bit still, but the others probably didn’t understand why it was so terrifying to him. He didn’t know if they would ever understand, they thought it was fine to kill a Machina but not their own kind after all. There was probably nothing stopping Ethan from chopping his head off or Nymira from melting him if he stepped out of line like those Machina did. He felt pretty thoroughly disturbed by how they were killed, yet the others were barely phased by it if only for the deaths of the soldiers. It couldn’t be fair to think like that, as if the lives of organic beings were worth more than Machina and yet that appeared to be the reality.

These past few days were really making him question his existence and if he really was never going to fit into society. He wanted to be a part of this world, he didn’t want to be seen as different, but in reality he didn’t know why he felt so compelled to join their society. He hadn’t been active for one of their years yet he was desperate to join their lives yet he didn’t even know why. It was all a matter of why he wanted to fit in but he couldn’t find a reason or understand how he came to the conclusion that it was what he definitely wanted. Maybe once everybody had forgotten about what he did he would be able to ask about life and what it offered him. He had so many questions and yet didn’t ask any of them when everyone still liked him.

Contemplating over what he should’ve done when he had the chance the noise he was hearing elsewhere that was fairly close certainly put him on high alert. He didn’t know what it was and could only feel nervous, thinking it might be another battle coming their way. It was surely too soon for something like a battle, but what was worse was nobody had the right energy output to fight off the threat. He did have some energy but he couldn’t use it when he was in danger of going berserk again. Pulling at his hat as he cowered in the back of the cart he gasped when a voice called out instead, one he recognised. Looking up he saw Norman over all their supplies, gasping as he stumbled back onto his spot and pulled at his hat again.

That was certainly a sight he didn’t know how to react to, he didn’t even know if he should be happy or scared that Norman might think to have him decommissioned instead of repaired because of what he did. It was Norman who told him he was a combat-type Machina, but whether he was opposed to having him functioning and in favour of having him shut down or accepted him for what he was still remained a mystery to him. He was stressing out fairly quickly again, he didn’t know how much trouble he was going to be in. He had been using his battery power like it was no big deal and now he had killed people and damaged his internal systems. Norman was going to be angry with him, he knew it for sure.

Keeping quiet as he tried to think up excuses he gasped when Norman finally came around to check on him, staring down at him as he asked him the questions he knew he would struggle answering properly. “Uhh…I-I-…not…very good…” he spoke lowly, slowly shifting to the edge of the cart before simply falling off, landing on his feet but falling onto his backside at the end. Groaning lightly he rubbed his head, frowning as he looked up at Norman. “I-I-I d-damaged my head. I’m sorry, it’s all my-my fault too! I should had been careful…”

Geoffrey held up his hands in a sign of universal surrender. He wasn't trying to tell them what to do only offering options for them to take. He didn't think the lot of them could put up a fight if the guards tried to capture them, and he wouldn't help one way or another. His mother would tan his hide faster than Ole Tren could down the ale. Chuckling to that thought he turned his attention back to Ethan and Amuné. The young girl shook her head and Geoffrey had to resist the urge to mess up her hair with his hand in a fond gesture. He knew it wouldn't be taken well, not yet anyway.

"Understandable," Geoffrey replied as they cleared the trees. "I meant no offense to either of you ladies, just simply that--"

The noise coming towards him had Geoffrey falling back quickly, slipping the bow out of the quiver tied to his saddle, strung and aimed at where the noise came from. Eyes focused on the clearing, and only when Nymira and Ethan relax, did he lower the bow and unstring it in a swift practiced motion.

Whatever this man road in on, had to be magic. He looked greased up, as if working with machinery. As Norman spoke to Ethan and Nymira, Geoffrey turned in his seat to face Zander, "Any idea?"

Zander shot him a look as if asking how he would know this maniac on his weird looking contraption. When Norman asked about the staff, Zander rose his hand and took it back without so much as a thanks. His eyes scanned over the polished wood and ran his hand over it. Pulling at what little magic was in the knots and grain, he pulled it back into him and still felt like his skin was too pale. He was exhausted and not paying even a note of attention to the conversation going on around him.

He did hear Nymira complain about his race and bite his tongue to keep himself from saying how their race was barbarians and full of false pretense. He knew better of course, and Geoffrey would thump him good. Speaking of the other Murans in the group, Zander watched Geoffrey as he made a move to help Cecil off the ground but shook his head. He wanted to press on to put as much distance behind him from this village. When Norman looked at him, Zander flinched. Turning away to look into the forest he kept his hand near his leather pouch and scowled at the scenery as if it bothered him.

Norman seemed like he was intelligent enough to spot problems and Zander didn't need more at the moment.

Geoffrey smirked when the man went off about the machine, "Now dat's magic if ya be askin' me! Unaspected Demicite or does it work any other way? Is it stable!? Seems stupid ta not add more seats if ya need to transport someone!" Geoffrey looked on in excitement and stopped his questions when he watched Cecil fall. He stopped heading towards him and let out a huff. Hopefully Cecil could do something to help him out. Moving his horse away instead, to give Norman and Cecil some room, he headed towards Nymira.

"Since ya gotcha weap'ns," when he received a look he cleared his throat sheepishly. "Sorry. Since you have gotten your weapons, and your friend is here with us, shall we head away from the ship? Once your friend helps... Cecil, we can head towards the next town and perchance rest along the way. It's no more than a day and half travel."

Ethan wasn't much in the mood for arguments, though he was glad Amuné voiced her opinion on who to ride with. He was just as fine either way even if he knew she had something of a penchant for him, and her telling Geoffrey herself settled the matter. Chuckling as she took his hand he smiled down at her, nodding once in agreement. "Yeah, stupid plan. We won't lie to the guards." But then speaking the truth seemed even worse, there was absolutely no reason for them to believe what they were told. Best case scenario they could just avoid the topic altogether and not have to discuss it, and while their going back to find the massacre would look badly they couldn't help that.

Everyone's attention was stolen away by the roar of something up ahead, something not quite natural. When Norman appeared on some kind of metal steed everyone was confused by the contraption, and his explanation of the vehicle did little to alleviate that. Smiling in amusement as Nymira snapped at him the engineer brushed off her critique, putting up his hands and lifting his shoulders in a shrug. "You wound me, honestly. I thought you might be interested in trading with my company, once I get up and running," he began, looking away as the Dimuran adopted an abashed expression, "But I guess not. Perhaps some other clan would be interested..."

"Alright, you've made your point, grease-monkey..." Nymira snapped, folding her arms and scowling, "The details are wasted on us anyways, no one here has the expertise you do. Save yourself the trouble and spare us the headaches."

Norman nodded respectfully at that and let out a chuckle, taking his gloved hand to his cheek to wipe some grease from it. "All's fair I suppose, I won't argue with that," he responded, looking then to Geoffrey as he questioned the vehicle. The boy sure did seem intrigued, though he questioned how much knowledge he had about Demacite. "Nah, it's fire aspected actually. Unaspected Demacite generally doesn't hold any charge, I'm basically using it as a combustion system," Norman explained, leaning down and prodding the container, "Simply put, the Demacite discharges a burst of energy every now and then, and that energy us used to turn the wheels. I can use the throttles to pump out more energy and get more speed. That's the gist of it anywho, the actual mechanics behind it are a slight more complicated than that. As far as being stable... Well, unless you take a tight corner, yeah. And because I haven't gotten the balance just right, its barely keeping steady when it's just me..." he mused, frowning as he scratched at his head, "Darn thing teeters like a sunnuvagun, I need to figure out how to stabilize it..."

"You're doing it again Norman. Spare us the chatter," Nymira commented dryly, turning away as Geoffrey spoke up. It made sense to skip the ship now, there was nothing for them there and it may only lead to complications if faced with the guard. If Geoffrey knew where to go from here then she supposed leaving navigation to him wasn't so bad, so long as he did his job she didn't mind. "Yes, we'd best be going," the Dimuran added. Before that however Cecil did need attention, and with Norman bringing his condition into question the Machina seemed very uneasy about it. He appeared fine, what was the worry?

Norman cringed a bit when Cecil fell out of the cart, smiling sympathetically when he found himself in the dirt. "Hey now, these things happen. Everyone and everything gets a bump or a bruise now and again, I'd be constantly angry if I got mad any time that happened," he said in a dismissive fashion. Joining them at the back of the cart he eased Cecil down to sit on the tail end, lifting up the cap and inspecting the dent. "Hm... Well the good news is its a superficial wound, nothing more than a dent. I can't run diagnostics here but you seem to be operating fine, so I just need to pop that little ding out. One second."

Watching Norman return to his strange vehicle Ethan breathed a bit easier now knowing they were free from that mess. Not having to return to the ship was a huge weight off his shoulders and once Cecil was taken care of they could return on their journey. Wherever that was, Geoffrey was leading this leg and no one knew what the next town was even called, never mind where it was. "Boy... Sure has been one heck of a day, hasn't it kiddo?" he chuckled, looking at Amuné and placing a hand gingerly on her head, "But we all came out of it in one piece. Banged up, but no worse. Sorry we never had a chance to ask about your folks, I promise we'll do it in this next town, okay?" He'd wanted to get some information but that chance was long gone now, unless they wanted to risk being brought in by the guard. "How're you doing by the way...? You going to be okay?"

"Ah, here we are! This should help you out," Norman said as he returned, a small clamp in hand with a magnetized pad attached. "It might pinch a little bit Cecil, fair warning. All I'm going to do with this is put these on the side of your head," he explained, pointing to the two padded tips of the clamp itself, "And then lower that pad to the dent. It'll grab hold of the metal and I can pull it back out, slowly. Your skull's comprised of a very solid yet malleable metal alloy, getting a dent is perfectly reversible. So just sit tight while I do this, you'll be good as new in a second."

((Nothing to see here, move along. @.@))

Cecil felt like a mess, falling all over the place like this. He didn’t know how to properly balance himself when he wasn’t used to having his cranium damaged in such a fashion, or how to handle being damaged in the first place. It was his first proper fight he had been in and even if he destroyed the enemy he came out more than just physically damaged. Frowning as Norman helped him back up onto the cart he lowered his head as it was given an inspection. He didn’t know if he was right with calling it a ‘superficial’ wound or if he was just being kind, but either way he hoped he was right with it not being that bad and fixing it would mean it would stop pressing on his circuitry and allow him to function normally again.

Staring at Norman as he went to get a tool out of his vehicle he lowered his head and sighed, giving it a slow rub. He probably should ask him about the capabilities of a combat Machina while he was here, especially when there was so much he still didn’t understand about himself. Without his creators to tell him what he was made specifically for and how he functioned he was left in the dark with everyone getting mad at him for what seemed to be his own programming. He wanted to understand what he was all about so that maybe they won’t get so mad at him, but that did make him scared that they might ditch him too. If he was dangerous they probably wouldn’t want to be around him for too long, even if he had an excuse.

Watching as Norman retrieved a rather frightening piece of equipment he gasped, pulling his legs up momentarily before trying to calm down again. “Oh…uhhh p-pinch…?” he muttered, staring at it apprehensively. Staring at the clamp as Norman explained what he was going to do with it he bit his lip as he slowly nodded, raising his head again. “So…so I’ll be…okay a-after that?” he mumbled, staring down for a moment before looking up again, “Or maybe…maybe I won’t be. I h-have some questions to-to ask after this and-and something to uhh…to show too…”

Warped metal, it just so happened he had precisely the tool for the job. Having to fix numerous dents on both the hull of the ship and on the deck he'd brought along a magnetized clamp, and such a device was precisely what Cecil needed right now. Digging through the bags on the back of his vehicle Norman looked down at Amuné when she came over. He expected something when she adopted an uneasy stance yet not her claiming guilt for the Machina's condition. Wyth had done it then? He supposed that was probable, a moorcat had an awful lot of power behind its paws. "Of course I can fix him. I've fixed Machina in far worse condition than he is, he'll be fine. All of his wounds are on the outside it seems, plus he's a bit shaken. Things will be just fine, don't you worry."

"Yes, though... Maybe saying you'll feel a pinch is wrong. Pinch means skin... Come to think of it this is difficult to explain what you'll feel," Norman mused, tilting his head to the side in thought, seemingly deeply trouble by that. "A warping sensation? That makes no sense. Perhaps a tugging sensation? I suppose that works, though I'm not certain if your sensors react to that kind of feeling. Hm... I suppose we'll find out. All you need to know is it's painless and it'll fix that dent of yours in seconds." Adjusting the clamp itself to properly fit his skull Norman eased it over Cecil's hair, letting the pads settle down before starting to lower the magnet itself. Easing it into the dent he felt it snap to the piece of the Machina, slowly starting to turn the handle again to fix him.

Just like that Cecil's head was fixed, the metal of his skull popping back into place with a soft snap and settling right back as it was. Satisfied that it was finished Norman brushed a fingertip over it just once to check for any more damage, giving Cecil a pat on the shoulder. "See my friend? Good as new! Just a small dent, it seems it wasn't deep enough to come in contact with anything, just superficial as I said." Folding the clamp up he slipped the handle beneath the band of his tool belt, dusting off his hands on his already sodden shirt. "Something to show me? Well then let's see it, in just a second though." Amuné was back, and she looked like she was awfully nervous again. So she wanted to go over in detail what had brought this about, that was fair enough. It was best he hear about it anyways so he could figure out if Cecil needed further attention or not.

"Strange... So he seemed to just... Go blank, as you said? And he attacked those men?" That was unusual, and a very rare occurrence. It did happen, occasionally a Machina's programmed personality would shut down leaving a 'blank state' as Amuné had described it. Generally speaking though they went about their task regardless, rarely did they lash out as Cecil supposedly had. Considering he was a combat Machina it wasn't unreasonable to assume that was his job, yet something still tickled him the wrong way. "I can certainly try. Thank you Amuné, I'll be sure to do my best." He wasn't expected back in Orosi for a little while yet anyways, in fact he wasn't even expected at the ship for a few more hours. What was 20 minutes checking up on an old friend?

"So then Cecil, now that we both know everything that happened, why don't we try figuring out why it happened. Amuné said you went blank for a moment there, and in a way it almost sounds similar to how we lose consciousness." Sometimes a warrior on the battlefield could fight on despite that, running purely on adrenaline. Yet Cecil was a Machina, he didn't possess that quality. So what had brought it about? Taking a seat on the back of the cart beside Cecil, the engineer placed his hands in his lap and slouched down slightly. "My initial guess is you defaulted to your original programming. You're a combat model, so you did exactly what you were designed to do. Normally I'd like to leave it at that, but something doesn't quite add up." Norman frowned as he sat upright, looking up towards the sky as he rubbed at the back of his head. "Typically a Machina has to be shut down completely and rebooted to reinitialize their personality properly. By the sounds of it though you just kind of... Faded, which suggests there may have been a glitch. Can you recall what you experienced then? Describe it to me as best you can."

Nymira was glad to have her daggers back, it meant going on she'd be able to defend herself. And she supposed in some small way it was nice running into Norman again, even if his droning on about his toys bored her to tears. Pleasant as it all was she would prefer to keep moving however and only remained silent on the matter since Cecil required attention. She hardly hid her displeasure though, frowning as her fingers drummed on her arm rhythmically. Getting further away from town would be ideal, especially if guards were already coming after them. Seeing as Cecil and Norman were quite busy however she knew they had some time yet before they began moving, meaning sitting still was their only option. Considering their guide Geoffrey was waiting as well she couldn't quite forge ahead on her own.

"Geoffrey was it...? I still don't quite understand why you agreed to take us to our destination, but I suppose I should thank you," the Dimuran said, glancing over at him and Zander, "Name your price once we arrive and its yours. Considering my retainers' navigation leaves a lot to be desired there's something invaluable about someone who knows their way around." He'd already proven himself more capable than Zander, and far less bothersome even with that accent of his. If not perhaps for the healer's saving grace being just that, his ability to heal, she'd have argued to leave him be. Perhaps they still could leave him in the next town, that should keep him safe from vindictive guards. "I have to ask as well, that bow... You're a marksman? I've not seen any of your people wielding one yet," Nymira said thoughtfully as she looked down at her hand, listing off with fingers as she recalled, "I've seen swords, lances, spears. The strange weapons those men earlier used. But no bows. I was beginning to think Murans were incapable."

Cecil felt a little bit of anticipation when it came to fixing his head, even though it would feel a lot better. The compression in his head from the warped metal was making everything worse for him whenever he tried to think about things or do anything normal. He just wanted relief at this point and even if it meant sticking his head in a vice he would still do it. Staring up at Norman he gasped when Amuné approached them, feeling a little nervous at first before he frowned, his eyes looking up to Norman momentarily before he raised his shoulders and stared at the ground. He didn’t know what to make of her plight, whether it was something she was saying because she was concerned or she felt guilty that it happened. He didn’t hate her or anything, but he wasn’t sure about her own feelings.

Slowly rubbing his hands together he gasped when Norman finally fitted the clamp on his head, raising his shoulders nervously. Even though he was told it was hardly a thing the thought of his skull being pulled at made him feel pretty scared. If it went too far then his skull was probably going to be ruined, but judging how the device was made he was pretty sure it wouldn’t happen. Letting out a gasp when it finally did bend back into shape there was suddenly a sense of relief, like popping a loose cog back into place. As Norman removed the clamp he let out a sigh, the pressure in his head being relieved and hopefully not causing his basic functions to go a little crazy. Even after all that he didn’t feel satisfied, looking to Norman when he patted him on the shoulder. “Thank you…I, uhh…” he muttered, raising his gauntlets slightly as he contemplated how to ask before gasping lightly as Amuné returned.

Placing his show and question time on hold for now he stared at Amuné as she decided to tell Norman what happened back on the boat, his expression changing quickly as he got scared about what Norman might think of him killing other people. If Ethan and Amuné got mad at him for it then Norman getting mad was probably a sure thing. The way Amuné worded it made him sound like he was malfunctioning and if he was it would mean he would be opened up again and shut off as he was changed from the inside. Slowly shifting back on his spot he reached around for his cap, just wanting it to be over. He didn’t like the thought that he might be broken, he wanted to be considered a good Machina especially after he saw what happened to bad Machina. Feeling a little scared he kept his gaze low, hoping he wasn’t broken just to spare himself the grief of being destroyed for it.

With some level of fear being conjured up from his worry he’ll have to be fixed up he kept his eyes shut, his shoulders stiff as Norman took a seat beside him. It was hard to not feel scared, he knew Norman fixed all sorts of Machina and if there was something wrong with him he would probably do what he had to just to stop Cecil from doing it again. Opening his eyes eventually he kept them directed to the ground as Norman told him he probably experienced a glitch. Hoping he might be able to defend himself for his actions he opened his mouth to speak before sighing, rubbing his hands together.

“I don’t know…it was probably a glitch overall. I mean, maybe what I saw and experience was just all made up in my head because it sure did seem like it…” he spoke calmly, moving a finger to slowly rub at the panel on the back of his hand, “I mean, I touched something and saw something weird…like something I’ve never seen before. I don’t know what I touched, but uh…I somehow have it in my system…” Not really knowing how to explain it to him he held his gauntlet out only for it to drop to the ground, giving him a bit of a fright when it hit the ground. While it could’ve been anticlimactic, it wasn’t his gauntlet that was the concern. The chain he had picked up was keeping his gauntlet and arm connected, his fingers lifting the chain up a little. “I don’t know what this is, but it…I don’t know…something like ‘melded’ to me? I saw some weird things after it did but I don’t know who it was or if they were even real, but someone was being tortured by something like it and it was really painful to feel…” Pulling his gauntlet up a little he sighed, his fingers on the end of his dangling hand flexing a little as sparks of electricity ran down the chain before he ceased moving it. "I don't know how but I feel like I know how to use it without ever seeing one before. I killed a lot of people using it..."

Geoffrey grinned at the Dimuran when she seemed a little puzzled on his helping, "Aye, I ten' ta do this for travels. Get me out under me ma's thumb." When she mentioned a price he shook his head and cut his thumb back at Zander and shrugged. "I may 'ave only known 'im for a bit, but me ma knew I want ta travel. Perfect chance, with 'im around. Heals well, 'at one does."

"Honestly Geoffrey," Zander let out a sigh. "I'm starting to think you're doing this just for my annoyance. Tis obnoxious." Geoffrey's only reply was to stick his tongue out at the healer and smile even more.

"Dis ting," Geoffrey winked at Nymira as he lay the street talk on strong with that reply. When he heard Zander let out a sigh of disgust he finally cleared his throat. "It's not a long bow mind you. A short one, not as much range, but with the same power and easier to unstring and restring as ya seen. Mostly guards use it, or huntsman. I use it for the odd monster when they want ta try eating me and me travellers when I take em ta Warren. Those stabbies look sharp, and flawless. Don' know much 'bout 'em though. Ya clan smith make 'em for ya?"

Watching Amuné walk away from Cecil, and seeing the large moorcat place his head against her back. He let out a whistle, "Da's a big un. Lass got grace, if dat cat be hers. 'e seems sentient too... Better den some o' the dogs if ya be askin' me."

Zander wanted to smack the Innkeepers son with his staff. He wouldn't tell anyone, but he did enjoy it when Geoffrey talked like that. It reminded him he wasn't stuck in his temple walls. Away from the rest of the world. So ingrossed in giving Geoffrey the peanut gallery treatment he barely noticed Cecil's arm come off again but did catch the tail end of his statement.

He's still waxing about killing them... Zander let out another sigh. Dropped from his saddled horse and walked towards the two.

"You shouldn't care about the death of those scum," Zander stated matter of factly. "As I told you on the ship, you saved Amuné and Nymira and myself. Thank the twelve for your augmentations if you ask me. You did this town a service, putting them OUT of service."

Geoffrey scowled at Zander's back as the Muran's voice carried back to him. His mother was a pirate, Zander knew that. Geoffrey also knew, that if he yelled now, it would make the boy act up more and dig his heels harder into the dirty. Having been showing the bow to Nymira, he didn't realize his grip on it had tightened and it let out a silent creak. Looking down, and blushing he apologized to the weapon and blushed harder when he could see Nymira was still within ear shot of his soft apology.

"You shouldn't feel bad about it, as well," Zander continued. "Them or us. I personally am thankful you did what needed done. They'd have done us in without a second thought." Leaning his body weight on his staff, he tilted his head as he looked at Norman and Cecil. "Death is just another part of life."

Geoffrey watched Zander wearily, but his eyes also landing on the youngest of his small group following his lead, and the defacto leader. Clearing his throat and putting the bow away, he mounted his horse and stroked her white mane. She pranced slightly at his worried tension, her chestnut brown body shivering in the breeze. She was as ready to lead them away from her, as her master was.

"See? Easily remedied. Besides the damage to anything inside of there would be relatively minimal, and easily repaired. At most your sense of balance might have been thrown off." That would have easily been fixed as well if it were the case, though he lacked the pieces to repair it right now. Surely someone back in Orosi would have had the components they would need. Now that Cecil was repaired Norman could ask his questions about what had brought on the injury, just to make certain nothing more might be damaged by whatever had happened. Getting an explanation from Amuné didn't indicate there were any other injuries yet it raised some more concerns, particularly about Cecil's lapse in focus. There were any number of reasons why a Machina might default on its programming like that, yet without being manually reset they shouldn't revert back on their own. So what had happened?

The good news was that Cecil could recall what had happened, and do so with great detail. The bad news? Norman had no explanation for it. While he listened to what was being said the engineer's face turned into one of pure confusion, never having heard of such a thing with Machina before. He could understand the "melding" as Cecil described it, some units were compatible with components from other units, making them more versatile. Yet these images he felt, the pain, was that even possible? To him it sounded almost like a flashback and yet Cecil was not human. He should not have memories, and moreover he shouldn't be able to feel actual pain, no Machina was that advanced yet. Watching silently as the gauntlet was released he let out a silent 'Aha' at the crackle of electricity, able to at least understand that aspect of it. The rest though? This was new, even for him.

"That sounds like you had a flashback. Sometimes we remember experiences, and if they were painful our bodies might react to that pain," Norman explained, taking pause as he examined the gauntlet, "But you're a Machina... To say you experienced those is to suggest you've not only got the capacity for long term memory, which isn't impossible but unlikely, but you can also feel pain. And that pain was vivid enough to induce panic. I won't lie Cecil, I've never heard of such a thing in a Machina. Whoever made you must have systems more advanced than anything I've worked with." And yet when he'd run diagnostics in Galloway everything seemed familiar, save for that Demacite crystal embedded in Cecil's chest. Just what in the world was that for? Norman couldn't say, but he had a suspicion that was somehow linked to this event.

Looking to Zander as they approached the boy certainly knew how to make a poor first impression. Norman wouldn't get into the debate of morality on taking lives, nor was he even aware such a thing had happened until just now. If Cecil had indeed killed someone then it was unfortunate yet not out of line for someone such as himself. It was curious though, just how sentient and emotional this Machina was. He could expect some kind of simulated emotion from a machine, be it joy, sadness, anger. He even knew of an incredibly niche market where robots were made to... Service clientele. But to express remorse, joy, gratitude, anger, a wide array of emotions? Cecil was truly one of a kind in that regard. Hearing another set of footsteps approaching he spotted Nymira coming back over as well, promptly cringing when she smacked Zander across the face.

"They may have been an enemy, but its an insult to call them scum," the Dimuran barked, glaring daggers at the healer, "They fought and died for their cause, they deserve respect for that much, even if their cause was foul. If they had turned tail and fled, or plead for their lives then they would have been cowards, but they died fighting. Don't sully their souls by calling them scum. If anyone here is scum, its you."

"Nymira!" It was hard to sit by idly while they fought among themselves, even if he was too exhausted to do much. Ethan shook his head in disapproval from where he stood, putting one hand on Amuné's head to comfort her at his side. "They never should have died to begin with. They should have surrendered if we beat them, they should have gone to jail, not pay for it with their lives. People can't atone if they're dead." Then, looking to Cecil his expression softened, smiling apologetically. "And I'm not blaming you for that. You protected everyone, and what's done is done, I can't hate you for saving us. Just... Please, in the future, be more careful? We're trying to help people here, not scare them. If we started killing then we'd be no better than some of the bandits out there."

What a difficult discussion they were having here. Was killing morally acceptable? Should someone like a bandit be shown mercy? The way which Ethan spoke was naive and frankly idealistic, to think of a world where one could simply forgive and forget. Were that the case then Adelon would not have a history of wars, yet that was the state of things. Nor could he say killing any offender was the right choice either, as you'd become the very thing you sought to stop. "What's in the past cannot be undone, but you can make amends for it in the future," Norman chimed in, standing up and adjusting the goggles on his forehead, pulling them back over his eyes. "I know it's not my place to say this, but take it from my experience. Life's never just black and white, sometimes good people do bad things, and sometimes bad people do good things. Keep an open mind but remain cautious, naivety and over-acceptance can lead to problems down the road." Taking a seat again on his vehicle Norman eased the stand back up, looking over the bike to make sure everything was still in place.

"You're a mechanic Norman, not a philosopher," Nymira commented with a roll of her eyes, "But... You're not wrong. I've seen our enemies show kindness to our troops, and our troops do the same in turn. In war there may be two sides, but at the end of the day we're all simply trying to survive in our own way." Looking back at Zander then the Dimuran turned her nose up in disgust, frowning as she added, "Which is why we honor warriors and their sacrifices, no matter who they fought for or why they fought." Some enemies had turned into servants at her home, and one had even become a friend. To say you should always scrutinize the enemy, or call them "scum" was as big an insult as you could give. A true warrior understood the enemy had something to fight for as well, even if you didn't know what that something was.

There she went on again about honor and respect. Difficult though Nymira may be, Norman reflected, one couldn't deny her morals. Smiling in amusement he turned over the engine on his machine, the wires running along the side lighting up briefly with a yellow glow as magic energy was channeled through them. "I hate to run but I should get back soon, they'll be wanting to know the ship is repaired. Get some rest when you can kids, you look exhausted. I'll be seeing you later I'm sure." Giving the throttle one turn he sped off again, the machine roaring to life as it sped past them and raced down the road, leaving a trail of dust in its wake.

Well that was an eventful if short meeting. Cecil had gotten the repair he needed though and Nymira even got her weapon back, as well as Zander his staff. With no need to return to the ship maybe now they could get a move on again to the next town. Just as well too, Ethan felt like he was going to fall asleep on his feet at this point. "Let's get moving then, if we're done with all that. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm really itching for a nice bed," he said with a tired laugh, looking down then to Amuné with a smile, "Maybe we'll even find another minstrel in the next town. Then you can listen to your music." Grabbing the Ydran at her sides he eased her back onto Jorvind, climbing up after her and settling in place. Giving Geoffrey a nod he glanced back, waiting for everyone else to mount up again.

Nymira scrambled back up onto her own horse, earning herself a whinny of disapproval as she accidentally kicked it in the side. "Not my fault, stupid animal... Don't be so big," she grumbled irritably. Picking up the reins again she eased into the saddle, giving her shoulders and neck a roll to try ridding them of stiffness. Horses were hardly her favorite way to get around as she was quickly finding, she'd almost prefer to walk again at this rate. Looking back to Cecil in the cart she stared for just a moment before clearing her throat, giving her horse the go ahead to get moving once more. "Between us Cecil, you did the right thing. Ethan can say what he will, but your friends would have died if not for your help. You saved lives today, and possibly more in the future if those men yet lived. Take heart that you were a hero today, and don't be ashamed."