[h3]Henry[/h3]

At first the conspiracy of ravens wheeled wildly around Henry, a tiny hurricane of black feathers.  Before half a minute passed the ruckus died down and left the dark mage statuesque; the ebony birds perched all over him as if he were a garden sculpture.  One look at Henry's face revealed how elated this made him feel.  Nothing in the world made the day sunnier for this Plegian than goofing around with friends, with the possible exception of wanton slaughter.  He attempted different poses, for which the ravens obligingly shifted themselves, and all the while he spoke with them like they were people.  Indeed, his new friends came across as far more genial than most humans, as the recently-carved memories of suffering could readily attest.  Because of this, even if Henry could have heard or witnessed the arrival and ominous discussion of the five Big Sisters atop their raft of ice in the lake, he did not.

Sudden and violent destruction, however, always caught his attention.  The shockwave of blistering heat and kinetic force disturbed the inquisitive conspiracy, and as one the ravens took off and made a birdline toward the nearest stand of trees for shelter.  Only the original raven, nestled in Henry's stylish and expansive collar, did not retreat.  The joy ebbed from Henry's expression, his childlike happiness replaced by a more subtle, wry grin, as if to mock the sudden explosion for being presumptuous enough to ruin the idyllic scene.  His gaze turned upward slightly as a slab of drywall comparable to a hubcab flew toward his head, and boredly Henry swiped his fingers to the side as if erasing a mistake on a chalkboard.  The piece of debris took a sudden detour to the side and lodged, mostly broken, in the ground.  Poking it with his foot, the dark mage stared at the shack.  Though it contained no friend of his, he hoped that Denys and that other girl hadn't just bitten the dust in so unentertaining a manner.

[color=d8bfd8]”Ooh.”[/color]

He found himself staring at the perpetrator of the blast, a bizarre, faceless creature that instantly fascinated him.  Its rather monstrous bearing reminded him of an Entombed, with which he maintained a morbid curiosity ever since he first encountered one.  The large, brutish undead fought with talons not unlike this firespitter's giant needle, and they always wore masks or bags over their heads to signify -or perhaps hide- their inhumanity.  The prospect of creating Risen, and especially Entombed, always filled Henry with exhilaration.  This one in particular outshone every undead he'd encountered, though.  Obviously, this specimen could use magic.  Perhaps it had something to do with its skintight garb, typically characteristic of dark mages?

Henry rested his chin on his hand, watching closely.  The raven hopped up onto his head, peering at Five as well.  Maybe it, like the Plegian, just [i]needed[/i] to know more.  More than anything else he wanted it to attack him so he could get an idea of abilities.

[h3]Birdie[/h3]

Birdie was unabashedly pleased of himself when he figured it out: the lumbering zombie-like creatures that initially capitalized on his terror of horror movies could not actually leave the areas of the town that appeared ruined.  With this in mind, the large man set to having his fun with them.  Tossing chunks of stone from outside their range to watch them [i]plunk[/i] off their noggins and get them nodding like bobbleheads...jumping into a ruined zone to watch all of them become sentient and suddenly lunge for him only to forget all about him as soon as he hopped back out...snaring one with a chain from a pristine zone and throwing them into the scenery...all of it made Birdie bellow with laughter.  One could say that he was having a whale of a good time getting over his fears of cinema's undead.  

Since he began this exercise already tired, though, and it wore him out quickly, it only lasted a few minutes.  He then casually sauntered off, making sure to stick to the less weird parts of Castle Town and feeling like a very big man indeed.  The thought drifted through his head about how the ladies he met with might be getting on, but he figured anyone who could lift a giant sword or use guns for heels could handle themselves.  Meanwhile, a new task awaited him, courtesy of his rumbling stomach: he needed food.  Where could he find a snack in this place?  Since the chances of running into a Ye Olde Burger Joint looked to be woefully abysmal, he figured that he'd have to look for an alternative.  [color=yellow]”Blimey, wot's the medieval name fer a pub...?  An inn, maybe?  Wonder if this dump's got one.”[/color]  He kept a sharp eye out despite the dark of night, not quite aware enough to be thankful for the moon's illumination.