Cyneburg

Location: The caravan
Interacting with:

Calanon

And then everything began to move once again, as if nothing had ever happened, which honestly, nothing really did. Even with another follower on board, most didn't want to share among strangers they had known for less than a day, which was understandable, if perhaos a bit frustrating. Travelling with this caravan was less a group unified for a single purpose, but a bunch of people who just so be moving in the same direction in the same place at the same time, relying on safety in numbers to help protect against any bandits/hostile orcs/undead hordes that might be gallivanting around. This situation really wasn't what Cyne had been hoping for when she smelled food last night, but it was fine too. She guessed. Not every adventure had to be pony rides in May sunshine.

Well fine other than the weather. That was a given.

Or that everyone here seemed like either an asshole or naive. But that tended to also be a given among any group of people.

"So, mind telling me about yourself?" Cyne asked the elf, Calanon if she heard right. Perhaps starting a bit of light conversation would help with the dour atmosphere.

"Stop that." Malkus said sternly as the strange woman started pestering him. At first she just came over to stare at him, which Malkus had said nothing towards. he simply looked away and tried to take a small rest. But that was quickly disrupted when she started throwing dirt at him like some sort of child. He was honestly confused; was she trying to annoy him or was she really bored? Either way while Malkus growled at her, he didn't do anything aside from raise his hand to block any of the projectiles from getting into his eyes.

Eventually the girl left to talk to Kyra, giving Malkus a short moment of reprieve. He noticed some rafters above him and considered staying up there. He was no stranger to forcing himself onto narrow places like rafters or branches, though he was a bit worried if it could support his weight. Before he could really consider the climb, he noticed that the woman was not messing with the cloak and poncho he had left by the fire. She said something about dumping it into the fire, and that's when Malkus decided that it was time for his counter attack.

Employing stealth, he silently crept up right behind the woman. With the poncho over her head it would be easy for Malkus to get near her, as the poncho should block her vision and, yes, clutter her scent due to Maolkus's strong odor on the clothing. There was also a faint scent of Sona on it, though at this point the damp musk of the half-orc was most powerful. As he kept over Malkus took his traveler's anytool out, transforming it into a gong of sorts. It looked similar to a pan, but the purpose was to be a gong. Once he was in position Malkus... Did nothing. He was simply very, very close to the woman, to the point that if he wasn't still cold and wet, she could practically feel the heat off his skin.

"I'd like that back please."

And then he hit the gong, causing it to ring very loudly right next to the girl's head. Malkus prepared to run away at a moment's notice.

Location:The Forest, The Wagon
Interacting with: Cyneburg @Dragoknighte, Brogach

Calanon gave a small smile at Gretchin as the caravan began once again. She seemed amiable and endearing in a few ways. At the very least, she could have been much worse. Everyone else here could have been, he realized. He was glad Sona and Satilla were fine as well. The Elf sighed as he walked along, his hand on his Elk's side, comfortingly. Brogach snorted and trudged along. The day was wet and dreary, but nothing he wasn't used to. Nature and all of its working was to be admired, and this day was like any other.

"So, mind telling me about yourself?" he heard Cyneburg ask, and he turned to look her way. He gave a smile. "I don't mind." he replied. "I was a Waywatcher, and apart of the Wood Elven ranger Corps for many years. I met Brogach patrolling around a village I used to call home." Calanon gave Brogach a trusting look. "He and I have been traveling for quite some time now. Until we found the Orcs tracks, which led us here." He wasn't going to tell of his curse unless it directly effected the party, or if he grew to know them better. And he was no sure if he would stick around for more than a few days and a tavern visit on a nice bed.

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"Wasn't asking for payment," Kyra said as she rolled her eyes slightly and chucked the food over to him. It landing on the floor and skidding across the dirt floor of the building a few feet until it came to a stop next to him. If she had wanted him to pay for the food she would have said so, this was just Kyra trying to be a decent person; which she was underneath all the coldness but it was times like this when she tried to help someone and they rejected it that made her really reconsider if it was even worth the effort anymore in this day and age.

Perking a brow to Ye Ol' Crazy Chicks words she nodded slightly. "Even if nothing went down they are still a bit of a ways from us. Will head out back to the road. Probably right when I am not dripping wet, granted drying off won't be much good with this rain," she said as she grabbed the bottom of her tunic and rung it out as best she could. Hopefully by morning the rain would be gone and they could start off without getting drenched but from the look of things outside it was not going to let up anytime soon.

Then Valona started talking to herself again and Kyra just stared at her for a moment before shrugging it off and grabbing some food for herself and taking a bite. It seemed this was going to be a standard thing with her and it was best to just her talk to herself because it seemed when she started talking to others it got even worse. Just what the hell was wrong with this woman? Did she really want to know? Probably not, at least as long as she wasn't causing a real problem and it was just gibberish why worry?

Granted as that thought crossed her mind was about the time that the gong rang and round one began. Kyra closed her eyes and took a deep breath, sliding back from the fire and moving well out of the way. "Rule one, don't fuck with crazy folk," she muttered under her breath as she crossed her arms over her chest. This was going to be one hell of a show.

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Location: Road North of Salarn, Day Two

Interacting With: His Thoughts

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It wasn't quite a crunch. It wasn't quite a splat. It was the heavy footfall of a rather large man, crunchsplatting repeatedly in the advancing morning's overcast dim. Keystone's thick boots continued this rhythmic cadence of smooshed gravelly mud alongside Cremwise's wagon, filled with mystery cargo that their company was paid to protect. At least, some of the present company. A number of fellow travelers had met up with the wagon over the past night and day.

Safety in numbers, and whatnot. Just as long as their numbers didn't piss each other off too much. Still, Keystone had the idea in his head that, if pressed against a common enemy, they would choose to help each other. At least until the next safe settlement was reached. For the moment, that was good enough for Keystone.

In so much as he had pointed out the folly of pushing the animals too hard and making time to set up a proper camp, Keystone would have given a kidney (or another hot meal) for a dry, out of the way spot in which to hole up; simultaneously, logic screamed at him that, in this kind of rain, anything they unpacked would quickly get soaked and the animals would get little in the way of rest. They had to keep moving regardless, unless shelter of some kind, either natural or constructed, made itself available. Until then, the injured or overly weary took their rest in the wagon, the rest plodded along outside in the driving rain.

In regard to that, Keystone was in better condition than most. He had thick, sturdy boots and a hooded long coat of masterfully crafted hide. While being out in this weather wasn't pleasant, he had some practical protection. Now that the weather was turning colder, it was a useful piece of equipment.

Still, onward he plodded in the road, displacing the earth beneath him with a steady crunchsplat next to the repeating creak of the wagon's axle. He constantly scanned their surroundings with bright, observant eyes, but in an attempt to pass the time in the interim, he inquired with a weary voice,

"Oy, where're you lot from, then? Any o' you locals?"

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Two more days north wasn’t exactly what she wanted to hear, but at the very least if there was somewhere dry to stop, she never minded the travel. The cold kicked in as the day crept on, which wasn’t something she particularly cared for. Perhaps next time, I’ll invest in a better cloak, maybe a nice leather duster ... hmm, maybe ..., the thought came with an exasperated breath before she turned to greet Keystone’s next sentence with a smile. ”Perhaps I will then, seems like we could get along just fine”

She hadn’t commented on the query of her origins, but they were certainly a curious bunch. She continued to march alongside them in silence. A young girl returned to the confines of the wagon, others had continued conversation amongst themselves. She thought for a moment how she could fit in with them, imagined endless travels, laughing by a campfire, sharing meals with others for once instead of holed up in the corner of a tavern. Strangely, as much as it may be something she could like and get used it, the thought itself had butterflies erupting in her stomach. Lifting her flask once more from her belt, she took a swig, drowning the flitter flutter and flip flops in her gut.

She wasn’t the only archer within the ragtag group, their Guard Captain was mentioned to be an ‘archer type’, and words may have passed through her thoughts of Calanon being a part of some ranger corps. If she had any inclination to stay with them, she would have to find another way to prove her worth.

She loosed a soft breath beneath her hood. Though, this one wasn’t caused by her own thoughts, but by words heard. Keystone spoke up again, but this time he seemed to address the group as a whole … another question about origins and whereabouts. She probably could’ve gone the whole 2 days in silence if such a thing was agreeable upon everyone else. But they all seemed to be a bunch of nosy do-gooders, who couldn’t come up with anything else to prattle on about. Small talk was over rated … to Lerraina at least, but she realized it served as a comfort to most others; especially those stuck guarding a wagon, on an orc-infested road, in miserable weather.

”Can’t say the Isles are near here at all, if they are, then perhaps I made port at the wrong dock” she chortled quietly.

Cyneburg

Location: The caravan
Interacting with: Calanon, Gretchin and Keystone

Cyne listened to all of Calanon's explanation, but noted that he answered a question she really didn't ask. He seemed to treat the elk as an equal and traveling companion rather than as a beast of burden, which wasn't an overly common behavior and would probably be considered weird by most people. She almost responded when Keystone asked where everyone was from, and if anyone was a local. Gretchin replied that "the Isles" were quite far away. So she was from an set of islands? Exotic. Well since everyone's sharing, why not join in on the fun?

"I wouldn't consider myself a local by any means. Most of you have probably figured it out by now, but I am a druid. Most members of the organization focus on looking after the wellbeing of a single geographic location, but I'm a wandering agent. I look around large areas of land for anything that could be potentially of interest to the Circle or might normally be missed by the normal stationary members. I strive to keep everything balanced and running well where I go, including helping out settlements when I have the opportunity to. As for where exactly I'm from, I'd probably need a lot of maps to figure out where exactly, it's kind of far away, but my old home was in a forest a bit similar to this one. But with fewer orcs. And undead."

Satilla Valen

Satilla’s hands ached after the bandages were wrapped around the bruised skin. At least because of the rain, the bandages had soaked up and with the colder rain, it actually felt nice on her hurting hands. That said because of the rain, she was already soaking wet. After putting on her leather gloves over the bandages she tried to wrap herself in the cloak, but the linen had already soaked up a lot of water, turning it into a cold keeping layer around her body.

She thew a look up at the skies from under the hood, her hair, already wet had lost it’s usual platina color and now looked quite a bit darker as it clung to her neck and face. She used her right hand to swipe some hair away from her eyes as she took off her hood, pulling the string from one of her empty pouches and used it to tie her hair in a tail so it at least doesn’t hinder her.After that she put her hood back on. She was already wet so a little bit of time under the rain directly didn’t matter much.

“No, I’m not anywhere near local.” She replied to Keystone, trying to ignore the cold.” Took me a few years to get to these parts.” She only added, throwing a look at Cyneburg and Gretchin who also told a briefly they weren’t from around these parts. The newest arrival seemed to be from an island. It made the witch wonder from where exactly.

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Location: Storehouse - Gorlf Northern Territory
Interacting With: Kyra @Lady Amalthea and Malkus @Lucius Cypher

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A shrill scream tore out; one that would remind a person of the tales of banshees stalking in the gloomy nights for their prey. Valona crumpled beneath the poncho and curled into a ball for a mere moment but the moment seemed to drag to those that watched. There was now no noise nor motion happening beneath the poncho that Malkus so clearly held dear. And then suddenly the poncho was thrown into the air towards the fire and it landed upon half of the flames almost putting the entire fire out but instead the flames licked the soaked fabric and began to make it smoulder and smoke.

Where Valona was once curled in submission, an angry glowering force of a miniature Elf now stood. Norsa had taken centre stage and she was most unhappy. She remained in the same spot she had been standing and glared at Malkus, her eyes glowing vaguely orange and she stared him down. "You fucking think it is funny to scare the shit out of a crazy, magic using Elf that fucking despises every single being on the planet?! You are a pillock, half-orc."

Norsa made no motion, noise or word to forewarn what was to come next. She shoved her hands forward with her palms facing towards Malkus when a sudden eruption of flaming, hot fire spewed forth from her palms. It covered a whole fucking lot as unfortunately the wild magic within her slipped out and caused the spell to react in a most unexpected manner. The spell performed at double its usual reaction; so that meant double the heat, double the size, double the pain. Well... whoops. Norsa screamed out in agony and ran, while fully aflame, towards the door to get outside into the rain to try and quench the flames that were burning her hair, skin and clothing.

She was bloody lucky that her clothing had been very wet or else she'd have been killed instantly. Rolling in the mud outside, Norsa relished in the cold, wet dirt that encompassed every part of her body. The smell of singed hair was not going to leave her nostrils anytime soon. Norsa decided that she hated this half-orc more than any other half-orc she had ever met. He was going to pay if he wasn't already dead.

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Location: Road North of Salarn, Day Two

Interacting With: The Medieval X-Men

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This amount of talking at one time wasn't really Keystone's style, unless he was trying for the less formal attentions of certain ladyfolk in a casual setting. All the same, he started it. It was only fair that he share a little bit about himself, too. After a couple of the others had shared something about themselves, he followed suit.

"Ain't sure if you lot can tell from the way I'm speakin', but I ain't a local, neither. Come from a ways north of 'ere, big walled affair, y'understand. Rich folk inside were fine and happy with us lowborns at each other's throats, so long as it didn't upset their grand bloody soirees, other highborn codyankery, n'such. Anyways, lot of good, hardworkin' sorts got sat on by a lot of right tosspots, upper class don't care. We had to do a number o' very grey things to survive. Made my livin' hitting folk what deserved it. Or if the coin was good. Or for the entertainment of others.

One day, fate havin' it, I got into the great Library, middle of town. Lied a bit, made like I was a scholar. Mistress what ran the Library saw right through, she did. Let me stay anyway, even gave me a book to study on. Changed my life. After about a month, she..."

The broad man's voice trailed off a bit, remembering something he didn't quite feel like sharing. "Well, n'mind what we done. I learned from her books first, her next, and set off to learn from others. Keystone flexed his hands into fists, stared at them for a second or two as if holding a memory, then partially mumbled, "Got the same steel-grey eyes, we does. Told me it wasn't for the same reason... didn't know whether to believe 'er, neither. ...till she showed me..."

Cremwise brought the wagon to an abrupt halt, pointing ahead. Keystone followed the direction of his finger to the most logical point to their immediate twelve: A woman, quite on fire, ran into the road and dove into the mud to douse herself.

"Bloody 'ell, that's somethin' you don't see everyday."

Keystone ran ahead to see if he could help, wary that this could be an elaborate ambush.

Location:The Forest, The Wagon
Interacting with: Cyneburg @Dragoknighte, Brogach, heading towards @Charnobylisk

"Druidism is a fine way to live." Calanon said, giving a smile whilst nearly closing his eyes to show the warmth in his expression. The Half Orc spoke in a matter of fact manner, which was something he quite enjoyed every now and then. He wasn't often one to start conversation, and someone speaking plainly was appreciated. It was one reason why Keystone had not gotten on his nerves yet either. It seemed Satilla and Gretchin were from far and away. He heard Gretchin's comment, and wondered if she was from across the great ocean or merely off the coast. He spoke his next words to both agree with Cyneburg and to answer Keystone's question. "And I am the same. I wouldn't say I am a foreigner to this forest, but this is a section I've never been to before. I would need to know exactly where I was to be able to show how far away my previous home and kingdom are."

Calanon held himself quiet as Keystone began to tell a story of his previous life. The large man had an odd but entertaining way of storytelling, and the Elf was content to listen for now. His keen eyes, however, spotted something brightly lit moving up ahead and leaping into the mud. It took him all but one second to switch gears from listener to an Elf of action. Keystone seemed to have spotted it as well, but Calanon was now in full Ranger mode. "Brogach, stay with the Wagon." he told his companion, and leaped upwards to grab a low hanging branch. He used his leaping momentum to swing himself forward to land near the base of a far tree, using the large roots between the great trees as stepping stones to quicken his way towards the helpless...woman?

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There was something so irritating about the druid, and Lerraina found herself grinding her teeth, a habit that she herself detested. It wasn't because of the woman's status as a druid, on the contrary, that bit had her intrigued. It was an honorable position to have. But it was more how she started out her story, implying that she was so important and special that others would spend their thoughts on what she was. The half orc was certainly the sharing type, which annoyed her as well, or perhaps she just liked to hear the sound of her voice, which annoyed her even more. Whichever it was, Lerraina made it a point to walk a distance away from the druid.

There was one more thing that had piqued her interest, and if she was bold enough in that moment, she might have pressed further. Lerraina wasn't much of a religious person by any means. She's read many books and heard many tales of the gods and their deeds, and still couldn't make heads or tales on how she felt on them all. But she knew there was a natural order to things; the circle of life and death, growth, rebirth. And she'd put enough men in the ground to know it isn't right if they were to still be walking amongst the living. Unfortunately, Lerraina was a bit proud to move past her sudden disinterest for the girl. And as others chimed into the conversation, she had lost whatever chance she had. It was better this way though, and gave her the opportunity to watch and listen. She would make conversation with the druid another time.

Their host was next to speak. The large and burly man was quite animated and seemed to have a way with words. It was a beautiful story indeed... that of knowledge and blood and love, or lust. Whichever it was, it was one that she could identify with, as her own past was never a walk in the park. The real crime was how high born felt fit to walk on the backs of those below them, as if their lives were so much more important, or worth so much more. Lerraina's jaw clenched and her fists burned white as every muscle tensed. She had drifted in thought, the words of others as they spoke passed right through her. Consumed by her past, a hand subtly moved to embrace her left forearm. There were times where she tried to piece together the pieces of the puzzle, others where she couldn’t care any less. But she was haunted, not only by their actions, but by her own as well.

The banter went on for a bit until a strange sight caught their attention. A figure, engulfed in fire had come their way, screams of agony erupted from them as they attempted to smother themselves in the storm, and the conditions it left the earth in. ”By the gods … “, she muttered quietly. She glanced up to the sky, hoping to glimpse something. She knew Crixus was around somewhere, but would’ve felt so much better in that moment if she could see him. Her attention slipped back to the figure ahead with a small sigh. Something was bound to happen on her journey, if not a crazed enemy charging at her, then perhaps a crazed figure engulfed in flames.

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Kyra leaned back against the wall near a window as she waited for the events to unfold, arms crossed over her shoulder as her pack was slung against her hip. This would be good she thought to herself but in the end it turned out to be bad. Real damn bad as suddenly there was fire everywhere. Her eyes widened as she turned and put her elbow through the glass, breaking it away and being very thankful that she wore long thick sleeves with leather bound over them. Diving through the window and out into the rain she quickly came to her feet and stepped back as ye old crazy chick came running out of the place and diving into the mud and water to put herself out.

"Holy fuck!" she barked as she narrowed her eyes and stepped over to the woman, taking a quick glance to make sure that she had doused the flames and wasn't roasting to death because of her own spell. Part of her wished she would have, this was just too much. But Kyra couldn't hold onto that feeling because even if she was blunt she wasn't cruel. Seeing she was indeed not burning up like their home for the night was she pushed her hair out of her face as the rain continued to pour down from the heavens above. Turning she saw the rest of her group and a few faces she didn't know on the road.

"Keystone," she called out as she double timed it over to him. "Listen, that was supposed to be our place for tonight. The rain is keeping it from burning out of control but we have to get water inside before the support beams are burned through if we still want to use it and not be caught in this storm overnight."

Malkus was ready to dive out of the way the moment the woman brought up her hand, and that's what he did. He dodged her spell and leaping clear behind her, avoiding the brunt of the magic. But not all of it. If it were just a flew of fire from his hands, or even a regular fireball, Malkus could have came out unscratched. But for some reason this one was much bigger than usual, big enough to cause the entire building to start burning. Why this crazy which would use such a powerful spell inside a building, he didn't know. But then again she was crazy. Crazy justifies a lot of things.

The force of the explosion knocked Malkus into the wall. While he wasn't on fire, he was hurt badly. Mixed with his fatigue, hunger, and general mood, he didn't bother to get to his feet. Instead he just sat up and watched as the witch and Kyra escaped the burning building. Malkus was frankly surprised that the explosion didn't collapse the whole place, but he supposed that would have been too merciful. He did try to move his legs, but no; too much pain. Not enough energy. Sitting in place he watched as the fire slowly started to spread, and he could feel it harder to breath as the smoke became to fill the building.

As he sat against the walls he looked towards where the bonfire once was, and saw Sona's cloak get engulfed in the fire. He sighed and weakly, took out his flute. "I fucked up again, huh? Well... At least I'll go to sleep warm." Pulling down his mask, Malkus brought the flute to his lips. He played the song he and Sona played in the forest the day before, wondering if maybe she'd hear him again. He wondered if he would see her again. Because he's made a lot of mistakes, and he knew that one of the worse things he did was not apologizing to Sona. He hoped she was here and it wouldn't be too late... But he supposed that would have been too merciful.

The music didn't last long. It barely lasted a minute before it went silent, and only the rain and roar of fire could be heard.

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It had been months since the fog had plagued Sana and the Gypsy that rode through the rain on the back of her ebony steed hoped that there would not be another bip out of the blue. Thankfully as long as the rain fell there would be no fog to worry her but what happened when the rain ended? Maybe with the cold setting in she would be free of fogs until at least the spring. She could only hope at this point and take it a day at a time. Right now her main focus was on finding an old friend. She needed the re-connection at this point, something that was stable to hold onto as it were. It was why she had raced through town the day before, only to find rumors of a silver haired archer setting out further north from some of the locals.

The woman had set out early that morning, before the sun would be seen had it not been for the rain and clouds blacking out the sky. Wondering how long it would take for her to catch up, if she would at all, but a single woman on a lightly packed horse charging down the road moved quickly even in the muck ad the mud. Far faster than a Ranger moving through the trees or a wagon getting stuck in the mud. Distance that took the others as a group to cover over two days was quickly cut in half by her and finally in the distance she had found a clue not long ago. Two dead orcs in the road. Sana was not sure what happened but it was enough of a sign and she pushed even harder.

Ash perked his ears up from the back of the wagon as something caught his attention. Rising up slowly as a cloaked figure on a black horse came racing towards the group from the south. Jumping down and into the mud Ash began running towards the figure. Sana seeing the pale dyre wolf pulled back in the reins and came to an abrupt halt. "Ash, I will skull fuck you with an arrow if you spook Epona," the woman spoke harshly as she dismounted and took a step forward; the voice was feminine but it was much lower than most women's; yet it would be familiar to two in the group. Ash stopped in his tracks and slowly padded over to her; sniffing her for a moment before turning and jogging back over to the wagon and hopping under the tarp to get out of the rain.

"Alright, where are you you silver haired elf wanna be?" the woman called out as she stepped towards the wagon and taking a look about. Her head tilting to the side a bit as she spotted Kyra and then spotted another near her. "Well ain't this just a lovely reunion," she said as she pulled the hood of her mantle back to finally reveal her features. Her dark eyes staring at Keystone as the amber flecks in the shimmering. "Hello Keystone."

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Location: Road North of Salarn, Day Two

Interacting With: Kyra, Sana

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Keystone was traversing the distance between himself and the recently flaming woman in leaps and bounds. It could be said that he was quite agile for a man of his size. Of course, it could also be said that a flaming woman crossing your path in the middle of the woods could make anyone step with decided gusto.

By the time he was about halfway to the crispy-edged lady, he noticed the more familiar form of Kyra emerging from the trees to the side of the road. "Keystone," she called out as she double timed it over to him. "Listen, that was supposed to be our place for tonight. The rain is keeping it from burning out of control but we have to get water inside before the support beams are burned through if we still want to use it and not be caught in this storm overnight."

The wagon kept lumbering forward, even as the broad man was set on putting distance ahead of it. Upon hearing the news that some fire control was needed, he turned heel and began running back to it. With Kyra present, the burnt lady has some care. Keystone was pretty sure that she had a better grasp on proper care for someone injured in the middle of the woods than he did. Putting out a building fire - a little closer to his sort of task. Besides, he had an idea.

Water, short of losing their potable supply, would have to come from above. They all were quite aware that the sky was being very generous with the cold, wet stuff, but any sort of pause to allow containers to fill with rainwater might allow he fire to rage out of control. Mud, on the other hand, he could collect immediately. Its more viscous nature would assist in smothering the flames with greater efficiency. One or two of his cookpots were sufficient to shovel a good amount of the oozing stuff, and if Keystone could get a line going, they might just have this problem handled. A dirty place to stay was vastly superior to no place at all.

He made it back to the wagon and began tearing into his pack, when a shockingly familiar voice jolted him from his immediate course of action. "Well ain't this just a lovely reunion."

No. No, no, no. Not only was this not possible, it was a herald's horn for something potentially horrifying to occur. First the Orc's rumor about the undead. Now the sudden coming of a former adventuring companion. Call it Fate. Kismet. Will Of The Gods. If certain people were thrown into the mix with him, it was for a purpose, he had come to believe; a purpose that didn't involve quiet evenings around the hearth with a roast in the oven and a full tankard of rich, brown ale.

Maybe it wasn't even her. I mean, how could it be? This wasn't even the same realm in which he'd met the archer last. So much had happened since then, though. He'd changed a bit. Maybe she had, too. If it even was her.

"Hello Keystone."

Damnit.

"Buildin' on fire, Sana. Gotta put it out. Grab a pot, talk inna bit, 'ey?"

The sense of urgency notwithstanding, he didn't want his acquaintance to feel as if he was brushing her off. While Keystone was generally thick and insensitive, he wasn't a total bastard. A fragment of courtesy had to be extended.

"Good seein' y'again, Miss Sana."

Cyneburg

Location: The caravan
Interacting with: The Fire, Keystone's Cookpot

Well a lot happened real quicklike, and Cyne didn't really know how to react to much of any of it.

First a woman on fire runs out of a building and rolls around in the mud to remedy that issue (a smart thing to do when one catches fire, but still not something she had expected to see outside of a forest fire, let alone in a situation like today, where one would think there would be the least possible chance of a fire even happening in the forest).

Then Kyra comes out and says that was supposed to be their shelter (well that made sense too, but how did the bloody place even ignite?). Unfortunately, Create Water was not a spell she had picked up during her druid training, although it would certainly be helpful right now.

Keystone darts off and pulls out some cooking wares. (Where was he going with this line of thought? Maybe catch the rainwater? Certainly was enough of that to clean up any fire that tries to spread out from the inside of the building)

And finally SOMEBODY ELSE pops their heads out from the woods, this dark-skinned woman seeming to know Keystone and Kyra. Maybe she was part of the caravan? But judging from the cook's reaction, she wasn't.

It was around here that she mentally threw up her hands trying to make sense of the whole situation and just grabbed one of Keystone's pots, following his lead.

Location:The Forest, The Wagon
Interacting with: Norsa, Kyra, Brogach, and the rest.

The Red Elk blinked, tilting its head and watching its nimble master and best friend make his way towards where the flaming figure in the distance. It was always something with these folk, he mused and snorted. Brogach was confused so often around 'peoples', yet at the same time, he felt that this was where he belonged, for Calanon was here. Every experience they had shared was one more reason for Brogach to continue to stay loyal. The Elk knew in his heart that Calanon needed him as well. As did others...

Brogach spun nimbly, hoofed feet sliding out of the muck as a stranger approached and stirred Ash. The bucking Elk let out a small noise akin to 'neighing.' Calanon's equipment swayed and clanked together upon Brogach's back. With his keen Elven ears, Calanon turned around in mid-air just as he made the great leap from the closest tree to the woman still flickering with flames. The image he saw was quick, and he landed a second later, sliding across the mud until he nearly bumped into Kyra. "Pardon," he breathed, taking what mud he could and patting out the last bits of the flame. He wasn't entirely sure what he needed in order to help this woman, so he called for Brogach to come to him and bring the medicine. It was all happening very quickly, with Keystone heading to the wagon, Kyra's explanation, gretchin approaching as well, the burning cabin, Cyneburg going to help. Lucky for Calanon, he had a one track mind.

He turned and called once more for Brogach, taking the Elk out of his reverie of this newcomer. Calanon caught a quick glimpse of her as well, his Elf eyes seeing she was very beautiful, and her features and words seemed to suggest she knew Keystone and Kyra. She might have been a companion he just hadn't seen yet. It didn't matter, and Brogach bound and leaped over to Calanon with any herbs he needed just in case.

Satilla Valen

As they walked, Satilla was also caught by pure surprise as she saw someone run out of a building, covered in fire! How in the bloody oblivions did that happen!? She gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth to a moment, before she quickly decided to dash as fast as she can to the person who was rolling in the mud to extinguish the fire. Once closer she noticed it was a woman!

Satilla also noticed that Kyra was here at this place too! Which also caught her by mild surprise, but judging by the building, this was probably going to be their shelter for the moment, until the storms lets up probably. She then quickly kneeled by the fallen woman and the scent of burnt hair and extinguished fire hit her nose, making her grimace.

“Miss, are you awake?” Satilla called, checking to see exactly how much the fires had hurt the woman. At first sight she didn’t seem very burned, but no one knew.” Have you been burned heavily? I’m a healer, I can help you!” She said, worrying about the woman. She then threw a look at Kyra.

“Miss, Kyra, what happened?” She asked, worrying that something bad was around. Was this woman hit by a magic spell? Did the orcs have magicians in the area and they just stumbled onto them!?

It was then that she again heard yet another new voice. A woman had appeared and she seemed to be an friend(?) of Kyra and Keystone. Which put Satilla in some ease right away as she didn’t need to feel danger from that woman right away when she had to think about the wounded woman first.

“What sort of herbs do you have, mister Calaron?” Satilla asked, throwing a look at the elf, before turning back to the woman who was burning just a few moments ago.” Does it hurt anywhere in specific, miss?”

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Location: Outside the burning storehouse - Gorlf Northern Territory
Interacting With: Everyone around but mostly herself.

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Interaction Tags: @Lady Amalthea @POOHEAD189 @Rivaan

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Valona came back to herself and grunted as she rolled amongst the mud. Her hands shot up to feel how much of her hair she had lost this time and she was thankful that it would only require a short trim to mend the damage this time. Grunting, muttering and punching the mud; Valona rolled over until she was flat on her stomach and grumbled to herself as the mud began to envelop her face. She cursed Norsa for casting such damaging magic in such a close proximity to herself. Valona was half convinced that Norsa did it just to hurt Valona as well once she came back into control.

As she lay there, people began to form in her peripheral vision. She hadn't expected people to be around nevermind this amount of people and her first instinct was to just play dead until she got a feel for the numbers of those around her. She'd been in this predicament once before when she'd been surrounded by gnomes that had found her in the middle of a field one day. That had been an interesting turn of events and, in fact, had resulted in one of her worst wild surges before today. This one just took the cake however as it had not only caused her physical harm, it had missed its intended recipient because he was a slimy, stupid, smelly little sneak thief that could dodge things at point blank range like some kind of supernatural being apparently.

The voices spoke to her and around her and Valona could feel her eyes tightening shut as she then began to hear Norsa and Ha'des talking in her head.

"Come the fuck on Valona, these people are going to kill you for burning the damn fucking storehouse down! Best to get them bastards before they get you!"

"Them peoples are gon' touch ya! Ya wanna lets thems touch ya?! I wouldn't lets thems touch ya!"

"Yeah, listen to the bloody fairy lizard. These fucking people are going to man handle you. They're going to fucking find out about your wild magic. They're going to cart you off to some pissy magical wizard pillock that will use you as an experiment."

"Oooooh yesyesyesYES! Thems peoples likes to experilamentals on peoples of the wilds kind, yesyesyes. Thems gon's cut ya earseses off! Thems gon use ya hair t'make thems some goldses. The goldses like thems there Rumplespumples did in tat ones story!"

"See? Even your damn fucking fairy lizard agrees! Need to run and bloody hide! That's all you're good for Vally. Unless you want to let me out..? I can take good fucking care of you, Vally. C'mon Val, be a pal."

Valona carefully shifted her hand that was beneath her body to grab a pinch of powdered charcoal that was sitting in a pouch on her belt. She had to do something to stop Norsa from coming out again. She didn't care if they saw her wriggling a little, they'd know by now if she was dead or not just by her breathing so she wasn't playing dead anymore but she definitely wasn't waiting around to have these people cut her open and drain her innards for samples of wild magic! It wasn't her fault that she was infected! She wasn't born this way! Life was unfair... She was better off alone really but she was never alone and she hated being alone... It was the only option. The best option otherwise things like the smouldering storehouse to her back was bound to happen time and time again.

With the powdered charcoal in hand Valona jumped up onto her feet, knocking poor Satilla, Kyra and Calanon back and threw it towards their faces with the utterance of a single word; "Es-cap-e!" (Think Dory in Finding Nemo). As the powder flew at them they would see a mud drenched, slightly singed and demented looking little creature that had risen from what appeared to be the depths of a forest lagoon with wide and amber glowing eyes. Wait, had her eyes always been completely amber? Only Kyra would notice the change but it was most definitely not a common sight to be seen regardless.

As the powder glowed along with her eyes, everything became dark around the small group of people in a fifteen feet radius. It would not be fun trying to find their way through this continual darkness that seemed to cut off all senses when it initally dropped. Nothing could pierce this save for a continual light spell. Valona could see through it with complete ease and used this as a means to flee. The darkness allowed Valona to dart off into the growth of the forest where she scampered up a tree and curled up in the hollow of a tree trunk that she found along the way. Her amber eyes glowed out of the shadowed trunk and watched the group below, keeping herself to herself for the time being.

The urge to throw things at them was insane but she had to resist for now until she saw their reactions to her handiwork. She was not going to become one of those countless rabbits that she had had to cut and gut in order to survive. No sir. That was not her fate. If she was destined to die it would be at the hands of magic, not steel and she intended to keep it that way for as long as possible.

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