Vert turned to look at the elven woman the walked towards her with a toothy grin on her face. "If you got any on you now I suggest you drop em, don't want me to eat you." Vert said the maw on her stomach seemed to shimmer forth as a sort of show of power. She was cracking her knuckles to as another show of power trying appear intimidating.

After a giving the woman a second to drop when she had Vert started to search her for weapons, holding herself back at the same time as being so close to someone made it hard not to eat them. Afterall the only other person who had ever gotten close to her so far was the storyteller. Since that event it was hard for her to be near him.

Laina appeared to of brought back tonight's meal, a nice deer, and asked for some help skinning it. A big commotion was starting up when an elven woman came running through the trees yelling about an orc trying to steal from her. This orc, moments later, came bounding through the trees yelling "thief" or something to that effect. Members of the group seemed to know this orc, whether that was for bad or for worse Ivan didn't know.

He allowed the others to handle the situation and went over to help Laina. "I'll help... Give me a sec..." Ivan pulled a small hunting knife out of his pack and began to help Laina skin the rest of the deer.

{ROUND}

"An orc and an elf at this time of night? What's next, I wonder?" Tiberius murmured to himself. He studied them both for a moment before coming to a decision. He drew his sword to the elf woman's neck. She stiffened.
"Drop the satchel please," Tiberius ordered. "If you are telling the truth, you can get it back."
The elf woman withdrew the satchel and dropped it on the ground before him. She kept her expression neutral, but her clenched fists told another story.
Then Tiberius turned to Vert. What he said next threw her for a loop. "Search her for weapons. Oh, and try not to eat her." Eat? She glanced at this "Vert," and to her horror, she spotted the telltale marks of a Devourer. Her eyes widened, and she made as if to back away, but the blade at her neck kept her still. Vert approached the elf, cracking her knuckles and allowing her maw to shimmer with power. "If you got any on you now, I suggest you drop 'em, don't want me to eat you," she said. The elf did as instructed - she dropped her two long knives and bag of throwing knives. A further search revealed various hidden knives in her boots, sleeves, and breasts.

Tiberius turned to her again. "Now, perhaps you could explain what exactly is going on? We've had one hell of a night and I'd prefer it if this conflict could be brought to a close, peacefully."

The elf woman gulped. "I was travelling down the road for the mines up north when an orc met me on the road. He attacked me and tried to reach for my satchel, but I escaped him and hid, and here we are. Please, you have to believe me!"

Gorman winced. "I'm so dead if they believe her..." he muttered.

"Gorman?" someone called out. He looked around to see who it was. It was the older woman in knightly armor. "Wh-hnf...what the hell are you doing in the forest with this tart?" she demanded.
Gorman shrugged. "Hell if I know. Ask her. I came alone to deliver some stuff to you guys. Speaking of which, that's how you'll know it's my satchel - I know what's in it, and I know who it's for. There's a letter in there addressed to Tiberius, and the Heart Ring that Mister Xen'Desh left behind is in the envelope. She said Vert could have it."

The enveloped was sealed. There was definitely a ring-shaped object inside, but the only way to know what kind of ring it was would be to open the enveloped, and the elf hadn't opened the envelope. If the envelope were opened, one would find a silver ring with the letters "ERU" inscribed on the inside, just like all the other rings the Champions wore.

The letter contained the following message:

Tiberius frowned, shaking his head when all of the hidden weapons came into view from the elven woman. He already knew that everything she had said was a lie even before the contents of the satchel proved it. He had recognized Gorman instantly, seldom do you forget those who humble you in moments of anger. Besides, he hadn't really met any other orcs besides this brute of one, before him.

He looked at Gorman and spoke with a soft smile, "Fear not Gorman, I knew it was you the moment you came into the clearing. I just found it amusing that you let a elven girl steal from you." He gave a small chuckle after that before continuing, "No one is going to die tonight. Not you, or her. Tiberius finished, looking down at the woman again. He only felt pity for those whose livelihoods were based upon stealing from others, for often the not, their stories were a tragic one. He slowly retracted his blade, dropping it from her neck.

A small sigh escaped his frowning lips. Sure he pitied her, but Tiberius was also very tired and just wanted to get on with the night in peace. Plus he had a new letter to read. He crouched down to her level and spoke softly, "Listen to me, back where I come from do you know what they do to thieves? They slice of their dominant hand, letting everyone who sees you know exactly what you are. That is, if you survive from the blood loss. But, we aren't there and like I said before, I only want peace. So you have two choices, one being that you leave now and don't come back or you can stay for the night and eat with us. Both options are now up on the table, same for you Gorman. Either choice is a wise one, just know that the Warlock's agents are prowling the forest this night."

With that said he got up, taking the satchel and reaching in to find the contents. He gave the envelope to Vert and said, "You're not so bad after all. Thank you."

Tiberius then grabbed the letter, handing the satchel back to Gorman. He opened it, not really expecting what he would find. Once again, it was addressed to all of them, and since he didn't want to pry any further into what was addressed to his companions, he found his entry and read it.

When he finished, he let the parchment fall to his side as Tiberius looked at Laina. She and Ivan were busy skinning the deer, their meal for the night. His "old friend" was asking something of him he didn't really know how to do, since forever ago. But if everything that these letters were saying ended up to be true, he would give it his best. He wouldn't let her become Dionaea Sycamore, he swore it. He could never let that happen, to her or to anyone of his companions ever again.

He passed the letter to Kaite as he began walking away, over to Laina.

@Thinslayer@Cuccoruler@Hawlin@ineffable

Vert was a bit surprised to see all of the knives. "Holy cow kid, you definently aren't innocent here." Vert said looking at all of the knives. She was a bit bummed though when told not to eat the girl and let her go. Though Vert had eaten a warg earlier, it was certainly a strange feeling as she had never eaten one before. However it left her feeling empty as it wasn't satisfying.

Vert took a moment to look over the shoulders of the others as they looked upon the note. Her eyes went a bit wide when she read the part for her. "There's a way to... end the hunger." Vert said in a bit of shock. "It can happen." Vert said smiling for the first time with pure joy, not twisted joy like she normally felt. Although this smile still ended up looking kind of creepy and even a little dumb.

Vert then looked at the ring she was given. "Neat." Vert said looking at the ring, she had absolutely no idea what it was other than the fact it was ring. That also surprisingly didn't fit her finger as it was a bit too big and meant for Xen'dash.

@Cuccoruler

The Storyteller watched as the elf was searched and stripped of all her weapons and the contents of the satchel were revealed to be the ring Xen had left behind and a letter for the Champions from an 'Old Friend', whose identity The Storyteller could probably deduce by now and probably already had. The Storyteller watched as the letter was passed around and read and viewed from over shoulders. He decided to wait until everyone else was done with the letter before reading it himself. Less people clamoring for their turn to read then. The Storyteller was about to go and help with the cooking when he saw that Vert was having trouble with her ring. The ring seemed to be a tad too big for her fingers and The Storyteller knew a shrink lesser items spell, so he decided to help. "Having trouble with your ring?" The Storyteller asked as he approached Vert "I might be able to make it fit for you if you want me to".

Fire lit the interior of what seemed to be an empty throne room with banners held aloft by some form of magic. The cold air crept into the room despite the large fire in the center of it. As the room settled from the cold winds bashing against the windows shades darted for the Throne itself, only to stop before it and start to rebuild that of a figure.

As the miasma took shape a hand reached through it revealing the Warlock to an absent audiences. It was another lonely night in a kingdom of tribes, yet he didn’t mind. The peace and quiet was more than enough for the crownless king. Reaching to his side the beast felt the wound, still bleeding slightly but not going to kill him, with a grumbling distaste. Taking his chair the creature looked out across the hall. Empty as normal despite the sounds of people marching just beyond the halls threshold. A place that felt calm and removed from the world outside, but then again this is how he had ordered it to be. Only one person was allowed to enter but she wasn’t present at the moment.

Turning to his left hand the man found part of the blade that had been inside him but moments before. With a deep chuckle he held it up before him looking at it. Slowly the metal started to rise and change shape, going from the broken end of a blade to that of a smooth round disk. As this happened three dark purple flames ignited around the disk’s edge and with a breathless spell the object started to spin. Energy arched around from the object as its rotation became so fast that it started to blur, and from this a sphere grew from the center getting larger and larger moving back away from the caster till it was a good fifteen yards away. As the Sphere left the confines of the rotating disk the wisps moved with it, keeping the same distance from the black sphere.

“Anoikto, se Keno.”

As the words left his maw the expansion stopped, its new size the same diameter of his body length.

“Kaleste to Pnevma Walker sti gi ton nekron.”

Obeying his command the wisps entered the sphere, now giving off a dim blue glow. With a snap of his fingers the main door to the hold latched shut and locked its self. Wards sparked to life sealing the room to all but one person, the only person he cared for in this world of lies and shades.

@Rekaigan

Across the vast expansion of land from where he left the field of battle. A small Void the same color as its sister, with the size of one’s hand, opened and and remained above the Spirit Walker, a Ghastly hand reached down touching her forehead. Any around who knew little about the spirits or the Void’s that house them might easily mistake this for something trivial as healing, which they wouldn’t be wrong, however this was something far more. A calling from one soul to another, calling them into the Void of the Damned.

---

As her body rested, her spirit felt weak and vulnerable. It trembled from exhaustion, but it could not rest for spirits never do. Zenovia's spirit felt something tug at it. It was being called somewhere.. Who could it be? Her mentor was the only one who would usually do these things, but she was no more than a spirit that guided her now. The summons felt ominous.. But she decided to answer it anyway; her curiosity getting the better of her. Her spiritual body left her physical one, letting it rest. Should anyone be looking at Zenovia, they'd notice small lines of light blue trailing her skin, however the sight of them would not cause any alarm. Her spirit body represented her physical one, except it was a ghostly light blue with a hint of yellow at the heart. Specks of light gently sparked off her, fading as they slowly fell to the ground. However, those who aren't trained or knowledgeable in spirits would not able to see her metaphysical body.

Almost immediately after leaving her body, she noticed a ghastly hand appear above her. She let it touch her forehead, knowing what it might be. The beast. The Warlock. His spirit called to hers. Despite the pure malice in his heart, she felt no fear. Planeswalking wasn't anything special for Spirit walkers like herself, even if their spirit had been weakened. The shaman accepted the call to the Void, knowing that she would come back. She closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them to see her new surroundings. An empty throne room, with almost nothing but one other. The Warlock himself.

"To what do I owe the pleasure, Warlock?" She asked in a calm manner, her expression quite blank with a hint of curiosity.

Kaite was thankful that Tiberius was aware of the orc, easing herself back down in a slump as she figured no harm would come to the man, reinsured by the sounds of metal being stripped from the woman who had affronted his claim.
Having heard one of the young elves crumple with the audible collapse of Zenovia, the knight fought all the harder to be about her wits. Simply knowing a single body fell painted her consciousness in a lens of harrowing twists and turns.

The fight never really ended, not for those who still fought.
The knight felt faint, like at the edge of a steep slope as she forced herself to take a deep breath and let it out, slowly.
To mask the groan of a sigh, Kaite took the letter, skeptically watching Tiberius until he walked away as to make it clear that she was next to read. Having never actually read the first note, she was skeptical, though was curious about a few other entries such as the ones addressed to The Storyteller who she was cripplingly disappointed to hear nothing in regards to. Another note was to read the bit for Tiberius; Kaite, tilting her head in agreement with the mention of his conduct with Laina, searched the letter for mention of Dionaea.

She was not mentioned.
Kaite grew highly skeptical, for refutable reasons on top of common sense which the knightress expressed as she laid back down, simply holding the letter for someone else to take. "Sir Gorman...Where is this from?" she asked, assuming it to be some kind of cryptic answer. There may not be any reason for him to know the answer, but it was still worth a shot.

Who would write a letter to everyone while knowing who would be missing?
Why would this person write a letter to express consolation for...whatever they saw in another?
I mean, it would take a week with good sources to find the messenger going to the right location. How would they know?

H-how would they know?

"Wh...er..." Kaite stammered, looking back at the note a few more times before shuddering and easing herself back down while holding the note up for whoever to take, next. "Jus...hn...someone take it" she growled with solemn indignation, rejecting the words of perceived pity and chiding encouragement.
Even while she handed the note away, Kaite's eyes looked down. She had no clue who this 'old friend' was, but they were certainly wrong. Whoever the letter was addressed to was in more dire need of words than herself.

Nope...

Kaite's expression relaxed back to a broken, confused indifference after handing off the letter. Her brows twitched has she looked down, accented with an elevated breath as she noticed Vert claim 'her' ring and note.
Part of the knightress was shaken by letting go of the note, curious if they could glean more from the message.
'A little longer' -- until what?
'-Not just from enemies'

The thoughts made Kaite coil, resenting the idea of anyone assuming they knew anything about her. Curling up into the fetal position to a side, the black knight of Ispar groaned an inelegant whimper of a growl, sinking the fingers of a hand into the soil just to grip a handful of it.
"Where...wuh-Where did you find such- ...hm...Gorman?" Kaite softly asked the Orc after a moment to herself. Her eyes looked up under the bridges of her brow, though her expression was confused and default in how their glint seemed accusing.
Something within the knight seemed to crumble in this instant like a sandcastle against surf as the knightess's question came once more. "Please...who gave y'this?" she asked without looking up, still shaking from the dull ache. Sensations pushed through the over-washed tattered rags that now made up Kaite's attire, and past her own blood that soaked it.

Her eyes narrowed, and even the dirt and blood-soaked figure of Kaite could remain intimidating to those who knew the name. However, there was something extra in how she seemed limp of power. If Gorman hadn't known her from before, he would have simply seen broken and beaten knight without enough energy or will to lift themselves to stand.
This was not even to mention the hunks of shed armor around her.

{ROUND}

He looked at Gorman and spoke with a soft smile, "Fear not Gorman, I knew it was you the moment you came into the clearing. I just found it amusing that you let a elven girl steal from you." He gave a small chuckle after that before continuing, "No one is going to die tonight. Not you, or her. Tiberius finished, looking down at the woman again. He only felt pity for those whose livelihoods were based upon stealing from others, for often the not, their stories were a tragic one. He slowly retracted his blade, dropping it from her neck.

A small sigh escaped his frowning lips. Sure he pitied her, but Tiberius was also very tired and just wanted to get on with the night in peace. Plus he had a new letter to read. He crouched down to her level and spoke softly, "Listen to me, back where I come from do you know what they do to thieves? They slice of their dominant hand, letting everyone who sees you know exactly what you are. That is, if you survive from the blood loss. But, we aren't there and like I said before, I only want peace. So you have two choices, one being that you leave now and don't come back or you can stay for the night and eat with us. Both options are now up on the table, same for you Gorman. Either choice is a wise one, just know that the Warlock's agents are prowling the forest this night."

With that said he got up, taking the satchel and reaching in to find the contents. He gave the envelope to Vert and said, "You're not so bad after all. Thank you."

Vert was a bit surprised to see all of the knives. "Holy cow kid, you definently aren't innocent here." Vert said looking at all of the knives. She was a bit bummed though when told not to eat the girl and let her go. Though Vert had eaten a warg earlier, it was certainly a strange feeling as she had never eaten one before. However it left her feeling empty as it wasn't satisfying.

Vert took a moment to look over the shoulders of the others as they looked upon the note. Her eyes went a bit wide when she read the part for her. "There's a way to... end the hunger." Vert said in a bit of shock. "It can happen." Vert said smiling for the first time with pure joy, not twisted joy like she normally felt. Although this smile still ended up looking kind of creepy and even a little dumb.

Vert then looked at the ring she was given. "Neat." Vert said looking at the ring, she had absolutely no idea what it was other than the fact it was ring. That also surprisingly didn't fit her finger as it was a bit too big and meant for Xen'Desh.

Kaite grew highly skeptical, for refutable reasons on top of common sense which the knightress expressed as she laid back down, simply holding the letter for someone else to take. "Sir Gorman...Where is this from?" she asked, assuming it to be some kind of cryptic answer. There may not be any reason for him to know the answer, but it was still worth a shot.

Who would write a letter to everyone while knowing who would be missing?
Why would this person write a letter to express consolation for...whatever they saw in another?
I mean, it would take a week with good sources to find the messenger going to the right location. How would they know?

H-how would they know?

"Wh...er..." Kaite stammered, looking back at the note a few more times before shuddering and easing herself back down while holding the note up for whoever to take, next. "Jus...hn...someone take it" she growled with solemn indignation, rejecting the words of perceived pity and chiding encouragement.
Even while she handed the note away, Kaite's eyes looked down. She had no clue who this 'old friend' was, but they were certainly wrong. Whoever the letter was addressed to was in more dire need of words than herself.

Nope...

Kaite's expression relaxed back to a broken, confused indifference after handing off the letter. Her brows twitched has she looked down, accented with an elevated breath as she noticed Vert claim 'her' ring and note.
Part of the knightress was shaken by letting go of the note, curious if they could glean more from the message.
'A little longer' -- until what?
'-Not just from enemies'

The thoughts made Kaite coil, resenting the idea of anyone assuming they knew anything about her. Curling up into the fetal position to a side, the black knight of Ispar groaned an inelegant whimper of a growl, sinking the fingers of a hand into the soil just to grip a handful of it.
"Where...wuh-Where did you find such- ...hm...Gorman?" Kaite softly asked the Orc after a moment to herself. Her eyes looked up under the bridges of her brow, though her expression was confused and default in how their glint seemed accusing.
Something within the knight seemed to crumble in this instant like a sandcastle against surf as the knightess's question came once more. "Please...who gave y'this?" she asked without looking up, still shaking from the dull ache. Sensations pushed through the over-washed tattered rags that now made up Kaite's attire, and past her own blood that soaked it.

Her eyes narrowed, and even the dirt and blood-soaked figure of Kaite could remain intimidating to those who knew the name. However, there was something extra in how she seemed limp of power. If Gorman hadn't known her from before, he would have simply seen broken and beaten knight without enough energy or will to lift themselves to stand.
This was not even to mention the hunks of shed armor around her.

Gorman's shoulders visibly dropped with relief when Tiberius informed him that no one would die that night. Not that he would have died, you understand, because he was a mighty valiant orc captain and he could have taken on them all. He was absolutely not worried in the slightest for his own safety whatsoever. Nope.

Someone on the other end of the camp was staring at him. When his eyes adjusted, he realized it was the same woman he'd met in town the other day. He'd forgotten her name. Gorman meandered over to her to hear what she wanted to say to him.

She looked awful.

"Where- wuh- where did you find such...hm...Gorman?" she stammered.
He tilted his head, not quite understanding her question.
"Please..." she begged. "Who gave you this?" He looked to see what she referred to - the letter he carried in, now crumpling in her hand.
"A pigeon, it turns out. I heard it called a 'carrier pigeon' or something. They're truly remarkable things. Cap said that they're so stupid, they can be effectively trained for the job."

Gorman glanced around the camp. The frail little elf girl was trying to skin a deer. She looked green enough to pass for an orc. He had half a mind to ask Kaite if elves always looked like that, but then he realized she wasn't quite coherent enough to effectively respond. The knight helping her looked a little young to be fighting, but then again, he bore the insignia of House Stormwall, and those guys were legendary. No doubt the boy followed in their footsteps. Then there was the other elf girl, the creepy 'spirit whisperer.' She was beautiful, absolutely stunning, what with her fiery red hair, svelte figure, and soft features, but her connection to the ghosts set him on edge. He wasn't about to go near that one without good reason.

The Devourer, though, was something else. She seemed at once innocent and conniving, and he couldn't decide whether the combination thrilled or terrified him. Her maw alone was reason enough to avoid her, but he wouldn't be able to sustain that policy for long. Imagining how he would gut her set his mind at ease.

That bearded fellow was an odd one. Gorman got the impression he was some sort of magus. Orcs didn't fare well against magi. Challenging the man would doubtless be an exercise in futility. But it was the book that really set him apart. It wasn't a tome; he could tell that much just by looking at it. Yet the thing still resonated with magic power, and he came to the conclusion that the book's magic came not from reading it, but from writing in it. Better steer clear for now.

As he dwelt on how dangerous everyone was, he remembered what the Captain had said about that: "Attitude is infectious." If he spent his time among the Champions looking at them like they were monsters to be feared, they'd look at him the same way right back. If he looked at them as friends, they would reciprocate. Might as well start with Kaite here.

He sputtered an awkward cough. "Well, is there, uh, anything I can help you with, Miss- uh, Ma'am- damn, I mean Sir- Kaite?"

@Rekaigan

Standing from his lonesome chair the Beast walked forwards, arms behind its back, as it looked at the soul before him. Nothing really that special by his standards but still something interesting that to his eye caught his attention. All around the Spirit Walker could feel the presence of his soul the feeling much stronger and heavy set than before in the forest. This was his domain after all, no need to hide any ounce of himself not here in his own home. Still it didn’t stop him from holding back, which at this point the Spirit Walker could sense.

“You're a Guest,” He said as he got closer to her face looking down at her slightly, “act like it.”

With that said he turned his back to the Elf and started saying something under his breath. As he was speaking the room around them shifted, becoming darker, colder, the feeling of life slowly waning from the room. It was like the world was shifting, which wasn’t far from the truth, rather they were shifting from one plane to another. Within the span of time it took for the Warlock to cast his spell to completion the world had changed, no longer were they in the semi-warm halls of a castle instead they were now in the empty throne room of a long abandoned king. Furnishings were in tatters, pictures old and faded, armor that once stood as testaments to knights fallen had themselves rusted with the passing of time.

“Welcome to my home. I am it’s heir, but if you must have a name. Its Nikitís, at least that's all you need to know. And I have an offer for you, one you might very much like.”

Turning to the door out of the main hall of the ghastly place the man pushed open the entrance to show a castle and land completely overtaken by twilight. The sky was eternal night, with lighting cracking with no pattern. The land itself was all but barren and hollow, as if starved of life. Yet all around little lights moved back and forth, some just standing still while others kept moving forwards, as if trying to leave this place. It was all for not as no matter how hard they tried, no one could leave the lands of the dead, not until the Reaper came for them.

“This is the Void of the Damned, or just the void as you would call it. Here is where most Spirit Walkers would pay anything to come, to learn its secrets. Come and look.”

He waved to the main court yard below them. Down below humanoid looking creatures, dressed like him, both male and Female stood on a knee with heads down. The were frozen in time, as this place was removed from it. They didn’t age, need food nor drink here like anything else as time never moved, only those who had a soul or a soul itself could move freely of the Void. Looking around the castle the Spirit Walker could see the body of a Guardian, sleeping around the backside of the castle like a Mountain.

“I will make you this offer. Access to my records of your kind and magic, to be your teacher. I ask but one thing in return.” The man turned to look at her with his head, hands behind his back. “You must bring me the essence of the soul, Humanity as one would call it. And in return I give you access to archives and one body from below to call your own to do as you please. Take the Armor and leave the rest, inhabit the body I care not. They are just Soldiers to me.”

With that said he remained quiet, there was more clearly that needed to be said and done but the Beast said all he was going to for now. It was the Spirit Walkers choice now.

Kaite loudly sighed, rolling back onto her back as Gorman explained a carrier pigeon to her. "Yeh...of course" her words came as she glared at the sky and focused on breathing while her acquaintance had a look about the camp. The thought of the woman he had arrived with had already slipped the knights mind, her mind alight with static as she had no clue what the group was even doing, anymore.

'We're off ta foite tha wizard!'

Scattered supplies from the wargs' rush leading them through someone's pack, scars in the smoldering earth from the fireball that struck down more grass than it had foe, a fragment of a sword a few feet away from the handle and last few inches of blade it held was already tarnishing with the damp, dug-up soil and blood that mixed. The dying fire that had been neglected during the altercation cast a gloomy glow on the clearing, adding a solemn weight to the mess.

That whole bit about time slowing down during a fight? Nawh, it speeds up. Everything happened in an instant, though it felt like an eternity in the moment.
A dull hum had begun to well up in Kaite's ears, her eyes staring through even the sky as her mind wandered from the icy ache throughout her body. Her eyelids twitched and fluttered as her eyes began to roll back before Gorman's cough made the deceptively old knight gasp as they clung to consciousness.

Kaite merely watched Gorman with a vacant expression and lips lightly parted as she was pretty out of it at this point. After a palpable moment, she spoke up with unexpected vim to her tone as she laughed, "As long as I know ya talkin' ta me, dear..." with the faintest of annoyed growls to her tone as Kaite was hardly in the mood to debate titles. For her performance, she darkly wondered what legal repercussions she would face if she simply jumped ship...assuming she was caught, which was always the case. After the chuckle, she sighed and looked back to him, "That bag there...Just a cloth nnf...and some water"

The healing spell had felt more like a warm blanket than anything substantial, but Kaite still missed it in a small way, being new to light magic. Still, she knew she must look a mess, and at least trying to clean herself up was enough to occupy herself with. "How did y'find us, Gorman?" she asked after gesturing to her bag.

It didn't take long for the deer to be skinned with both Laina and Ivan working on it. Once it was done, Ivan wiped his knife off with a cloth and placed it back into a holster on his waist. "Ok... Now we just gotta get this thing cooking and we'll be good for the night." He said giving a friendly smile towards Laina. He took a quick look around the camp, it seemed like that orc really was a friend, Tiberius and Kaite seemed to know him well at least. But what confused Ivan was the fact that the orc had been looking for the group to deliver a message, when he got time he would have to give this message a look.

His eyes settled on Zenovia, she had been quiet for good while now, it was a bit worrying, though if she was just resting from that fight with that... Thing, it shouldn't be that worrisome, but still. "Hope she's okay... No telling if that creature had done something to her or not..." Ivan muttered under his breath.

@Lord Zee@Darkmoon Angel
"We can go and check on her later, she might cheer up if we have some dinner." Laina frowned but thought that it might be fine to leave Zenovia alone for now. Afterall, everyone needed some time to think.
"Thanks for the work everyone. I'll go gather some twigs." Laina got up and walked into the nearby forest. The birds were chirping, quietly as if they were afraid that she would hunt them. She gave a small smile before whistling a small friendly tune that she had normally whistled to the birds outside her apartment window. The birds stopped chirping and she stopped whistling. One of them landed on her shoulder and a pale finger reached up to stroke it before it flew off. She brought out her sword and cut off a few thin branches, gathering them up in her arms before returning back to the camping ground and placing them down in front of the skinned deer.
"If someone could make the fire?" She was scared of the flames. It reminded her of death and burning. It was beautiful, yes, but it was scary as well. She rubbed her hands along her shirt, leaving trails of dirt.

---

Zenovia could feel her surrounds grow heavy with the malice of the Warlock. His presence in the forest felt like nothing compared to this place. The shaman couldn't help but take a half step back as the beast drew near. Much to her relief, it didn't seem like the Warlock had any tricks up his sleeve, for now. However his soul was enough to run chills down her metaphysical spine.

"You're a guest. Act like it." He said. She felt her mouth form a slight smirk as the Warlock walked away from her. He started speaking again, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. As the room grew darker and colder, she knew that he was merely casting a spell. The room's illusion was dismantled, leaving behind nothing but a throne room worn with age. The Warlock spoke of an offer he had to make, something she hadn't responded to during their battle. Perhaps he meant the 'experiment'?

Zenovia merely followed the Warlock as he opened the door of the main hall. The world around them was desolate. Destroyed. The only living beings that were left were the small lights that paced. The poor souls that wait for the Reaper. The man described this place as somewhere that Spirit Walkers would want to come to. She didn't believe such words.. Although the other Spirit Walkers were generally independent of each other, so she didn't know if this was actually the case. Her mentor had mentioned the Void a few times, but merely deemed it quite unimportant at the time. The elf felt a slight tug at her chest, her mentor's spirit reacting to such a sight of the humanoid creatures that stood below them. It was like seeing multiple Warlocks. A grim thought indeed. Her gaze fell upon the Guardian, who seemed to be asleep. She didn't know what to think of it, but a Guardian stuck in such a place was unfortunate.

She listened to the Warlock's proposal. Pragmatically speaking, it wasn't a bad deal. It sounded like she'd gain more from accepting the offer. However, from her moral stand point, she couldn't do such a thing. "Why do you need Humanity? What do you intend to do with it once I've given it to you? Also, if I inhabit one of those bodies, wouldn't that allow you to control me?" She inquired in a calm voice, her string of questions seemed reasonable enough. She wasn't about to 'sell her soul to the devil' as it were without knowing the consequences of doing so.

@Hawlin
Gorman fetched the bag and cloth indicated. The water he found in a canteen. He wondered what she intended to do with the supplies; perhaps damp the cloth and use it to clean her wounds? Then what was the bag for? Realizing he would find out in a moment, he delivered the items to Kaite and sat down beside her.

"How did you find us, Gorman?" she asked.
Gorman shrugged and reached up to scratch his head. "I made a good guess. Before sending me off, Cap said to come back the way I came and meet up with you all while I'm at it. I knew I'd see you on the road at some point. She also said to run if you guys were hostile. I'm glad you weren't. Say, what do you wanna do with these items? You cleaning wounds or somthing? Can I help?"

@Lord Zee
The girl watched the proceedings with unnatural interest. When Tiberius offered her a chance to stay with their camp, she said nothing, but followed him in. Her dark eyes darted around the camp until they settled upon Zenovia. The sleeping elf seemed to glow a little, her aura protecting her body while she communed with the invisible and the departed. The girl made a point of sitting next to her and watched the Laina prepare the evening meal.

@ineffable "You there," she called out, pointing a finger. "Yeah, you with the sweet face. You a healer?"

Tiberius sat down on a log, looking at the empty fire pit they had created earlier. The battle must have snuffed it out of course, so when Laina went to go gather kindling the knight got up as well. He didn't want to make it completely obvious but he watched her leave into the forest. He grimaced thinking of all the wrong doings that could happen to a girl in the wilds but remembered that a little bit a go she had killed a deer and brought it back by herself. He relaxed only slightly, none of them could afford any unneeded risks. He sighed in relief when she came back with sticks.

She dropped them in front of the fire, then invited anyone to actually start it. "Fear not, I shall have a fire going momentarily."

Tiberius grabbed the kindling and placed it over the remains of the previous fire, then grabbed a flint and his knife. He began hitting them together, trying to get some sparks going. Every time the stone and blade collided, sparks flew in small dazzling array of lights before abruptly being silenced forever. At long last, his attempts at starting the fire were successful when the smallest of sparks managed to ignite some dry grass. Smoke began to billow upwards and Tiberius began to blow ever so gently, coaxing the small flame into taking the shape of the fire they needed. He set it down in the middle of the larger sticks and before long, a fire began to burn. They would need more firewood eventually, but it could wait for now.

After successfully creating the fire, Tiberius sat back and watched the flames take shape. He took thought for a moment, his eyes only reflecting the fire. It flickered up into the darkness, wanting to touch the one thing it could not. Like a lover scorned, it only wanted to give the moon it’s tender warmth, but the moon was indifferent. It simply did not care about the fire.

A lovely voice brought him back from his moment of thought and he looked over to see the woman from earlier was sitting next to Zenovia. So she had decided to stay after all, good. Had he been a bit excessive with her, probably but it was for the good of the group and he was in charge of protecting them after all.

He looked at her and said, "Forgive me, I don't think I ever asked you what your name was? I'm Tiberius Longshadow. The girl you are sitting next to is Zenovia."

@Rush99999

Vert started to head towards the edge of the camp when she heard The Storyteller say something about helping with the ring. "That would be nice. Having it on a necklace would just risk me eating it by accident the next time I bring out my maw." Vert stated handing the ring to The Story Teller. She was still a bit nervous around him. Not wanting him to get too close again for fear of her eating him.

Whatever that thing was they saw earlier though still terrified her. It felt pleasure from that pain, and that was what scared her the most. Smiling as you died a painful death just wasn't right after all. It made her shiver just thinking about that creature. Not to mention the way it commanded her to her knees.

"I'll stay as look out for the others. From what I can tell almost everyone in this camp already has plans of how to kill me if I betray them. Not that their wrong too though. I wouldn't trust me either." Vert said, she had a look of sorrow in her eyes about it. Who would ever give a monster a chance after all?

@Cuccoruler

"I trust you though" The Storyteller told Vert as he placed her ring in his left hand before closing it into a fist, which then began to glow. "And while I'm sure some of our companions are making plans on how to deal with you should you turn against us, I'm certain most of them trust you as well" he continued as he felt the ring shrink in his hand "Were this not true, we would have voted for your execution when we 1st met you".

The Storyteller's fist stopped glowing, and he opened it up to reveal a ring that was now small enough to fit Vert's fingers. "You should be able to wear the ring now" The Storyteller said before holding out his empty hand as an offer to slip the ring onto Vert's finger for her. "May I?" he asked.

Gorman's offer to help was met with a small chuckle, Kaite being unsure if the orc had ever seen her face enough to know that she wasn't one to paint her face red and black. The uncertainty stemmed from a dark wondering where her perception of reality began and ended, since she never really thought about the armor ever being there. It was practically her skin, and she felt naked without it.
"Ya'captain sounds like quite th'lady" she commented, reaching out for the rag before her arm fell heavily into the earth to leave a knuckle-shaped dent in the soil. "Nnnf...fer fuck sake..." she hissed with a wince from the pull of soft black scars across her arms. "Somethin' like 'at..." Kaite hesitantly began, understandably reluctant to have Gorman poking around under her clothes to clean off the space around the myriad of wounds. Without a word, she lifted her hand to take the rag and wipe her face off. Forgetting water, it mostly smeared, though did its job well enough to expose the trail of darkness along her hairline.

"I got a lot a'these, Gorman..." Kaite groaned, aware of what he probably saw. Lifting the wobbly arm back up, her nearly unfocused eyes peered more through his face than commit to the attempt to seem intimidating as she demanded, "...water...if you would" and offered the rag back to him.
While she was proud to the point of insisting on cleaning herself, the way the world pitched with every motion and how her arm felt like dead weight, she was more likely to make a mess than accomplish much. "Jus need ma'face en arms...I can get th'rest"