Soft rain drizzled down from the heavens, a thin veil that dampened and cooled the world below. Clouds hung solemnly above, still thin enough that sunlight filtered between the cracks in the cloudscape. The grass bent heavily under the weight of water, while the remnants of stone structures were now slick and dark from the humidity. A flock of birds flew eastward, seeking warmer climates once more. Migratory animals rarely stayed in Illiserev, and with the autumnal rain ushering a northern chill, such a gentle drizzle would turn into thin sheets of ice overnight, grass turned white with frost.

For now, however, the heavens were nothing if not gentle in its treatment of the area surrounding the overgrown ruins. Located deep in the sparse evergreen forests of Illiserev, it may have been an ancient settlement of some sort, merely a day or two’s worth of travel away from the point where all three nations connect. Dark green moss masked toppled-over blocks of stone, hieroglyphic inscriptions barely visible after centuries of erosion. In the violent cycle of seasons that the eastern monarchy went through, few things stood the test of time.

But that simply made what remained all that more precious.

A gloved hand brushed against the inscriptions, yellow eyes pouring over the forgotten language. He could feel it here. Another convergence of power, another opening towards her realm. But still, much too unstable, much too small. Arcane lights traced those symbols, before lifting off the wall and landing in the palm of his hands. Like snow, they melted into the glove, before he clenched his fist. Another drop of knowledge distilled, another piece of his plan falling into place.

He closed his eyes, senses reaching far beyond the veil.

His hand grasped against an unseen handle.

A thousand forgotten words sprang out of his grip, as a voice not his own resounded throughout the ruins.



The handle was cold against his grasp, but he did not pull the gate open for his part was done.

An unlocked door was enough incentive for the Hunters to seek their Master once more.

No matter how many times she'd chanted it to herself, Ambroise couldn't shake the feeling that her skills were out of their element for this particular mission. Even after she had come to realize the caution that had been implanted into her life from outside, brought on by her parents' worry, it still didn't seem right that a mage of her type was being sent to be rid of a single serial killer. Willing as she was to kill such a stain on society, it felt wrong to send a cannon to fell a rat. Was she not more suited for engaging entire bands of bandits and cutthroats?

It must have been the millionth time she sighed to herself audibly during the trip, but the first time she worried the other three accompanying her would hear it. Surely they must have gotten tired of her soft and clearly muffled demeanor. Stepping down the mountainside, she gave a brief glance upwards where the other knights were before her; habit had her standing at the back lines, even in casual travel.

Three men her junior, but no less capable. In her soft-hearted mind, she would imagine they were her seniors in skill. Instinctively, she gripped the pommel of her sword, as if trying to remind herself she actually had one and knew how to use it. Though all three of them were Astopolian, she couldn't help but feel slightly more distant from them, as if the outcast of the team. Did they see one another more favorably than her?

Undoubtedly the worry stemmed from the storm of quotes that plagued her kind.

"Undeserving of those knights' lives."
"Too little use for too much effort."
"Useless in comparison to the faster casters."

Superior as the Jeulian Empire proved itself to be, long-channel casters such as herself were nevertheless seen unfavorably during the war, unable to prove their destructive worth when even the efforts taken to keep them protected resulted in no better a rate of survival. For the knights that protected them in battle, it was a greater death sentence than any other position. It was as if their chances of death were one-hundred and ten percent.

Too late to enjoy the boons of Talentium, her now-gone siblings never got their chance to show their worth, and so the spite continued. Ambroise couldn't help but imagine the three before her may harbor the same distaste.

Hector von Helbrecht. A young man with determination in his eyes befitting of the hate that loomed behind them.
Jacque Raynes. Likely one of the most noble men she'd ever encountered in her life. A spitting avatar of Astopol.
Notia Cragsky. A soul she'd become sure of by then was more than the quiet exterior he tended to put off.

If they had any semblance of kindness, they'd tell her they had no issue with her presence regardless of their true feelings, but Ambroise knew she'd find it difficult to trust them regardless, and so she left it to linger in her. Endure and accept. That's all there was to it. She'd done it for years already, and she wasn't about to crack then. Not in so simple a mission. To keep her mind off of the pointless and inevitable, she choose to speak up in the quietness of the forest.

"Displaced as I find myself to be for this sort of mission, I do find it odd there are four of us being sent. I know little of the 'Virtuoso' killer beyond their kill count. Should we expect someone dangerously skilled?" she asked.

Travel was always one of the least entertaining parts of the job. Sure, the scenery never did disappoint, if one enjoyed the beautiful but often harsh landscape of Illiserev, but packing to be out in it took a little more than just a backpack, if one intended to be there for any extended period of time. This would be one of the reasons Lillet didn't travel on foot, but on horseback. It also helped things go by quicker. At least she wasn't going it completely alone, this time.

Lillet glanced over her shoulder toward her traveling companions. A single bored eccentric and her butler hardly amounted to much of any expedition, but even a few people tagging along beat being alone. Lillet couldn't figure Charlotte out, from the short time she'd known the other woman. The blonde was warm, friendly, and outgoing, but she didn't really seem the type to be a scholar of antiquity, in any capacity. The butler was even more of a mystery, and although Lillet couldn't quite place what seemed off about the soft-featured man, she didn't worry too much about him, either. Any butler in Illiserev would certainly be capable in a fight, and an impeccable servant out of one.

Their last visit to a town had been a day or so ago, and the travel since had involve occasional consultation of a map, and wandering through the countryside, picking their way along what small paths could be found. "It'll be a day or so yet, before we get there," she called back to her companions. "At least from what information I have. Shame the weather's taking a turn for the worse. Hope your brought some gear for it." The multiple layers she was already wearing suggested she had come prepared for just about any situation.

She hated rain. A little further north and it might have been snow but right now it was raining. Natala was wet and cold, regretting not getting a rain cloak the last time she had gone into a city. There was supposed to be some ruins or something nearby. With any luck they would be able to find some mostly dry wood nearby as well.

---

Soothing. That was the word that Odile knew to describe the rain. He could hear each drop colliding with stone, grass, moss, dirt, and even his own flesh. Each collision was like a drum beat, carrying the rhythm of his home. The rain always reminded him of home. Too many memories to count. Without so much as getting bored of each drop trickling on his skin, he lay in the soft grass, embracing the world. It was enough to forget.

He had ran further ahead of his companion. After all, he could not resist the allure of the soft grass contorting to his whimsy.

---

Rain was... an unpredictable tool that played after its own tune. It could, however, still be manipulated. While it held true that a downfall was capable of washing away the the thoughts of an Artist after she had already put her mark on the world, rain was just as much capable of being part of the craft itself.

In case of the Virtuoso however the rain was, as of right now, simply annoying. The young woman had finished her painting in the close town of Skaiskan just recently and it was simply not in her nature to bless the people of a single community with more than one artistry in such a short amount of time... not to mention the chances of being caught increased tenfold if she'd do a deed more than once at the same location.

So, in the end the robe and mask wearing light-blonde was simply enjoying the scenery. Some may call it hiding; for the traveling Artist known as 'Liza', who drew pretty much anything including scenery such as this, it was simply to stimulate her muse - or so she could explain to anyone who'd find her in a weird place like this.

Even with her garment however, Liza wasn't particularly keen on getting wet without reason and thus the young woman was simply taking cover under the remains of a stone-roof.

---

Her travelling partner had run ahead again, something she was long since used to. Natala picked up the pace, eventually catching up to where Odile was sprawled out on the ground. She walked past without a word or backwards glance, well used to this sight.

Natala quickened her pace, eager to get under some sort of shelter. The less time spent out there, the better. There would be no pity for someone who apparently enjoyed being wet and miserable while she sat warm, happy and dry in front of a fire.

The ruins soon came into sight and shortly after that she ducked into cover, coming face to face with a masked figure draped in red and black. There was a moment of surprised hesitation before she grabbed the hilt of her sword and partially drew it, baring a third of it's blade.

---

Odile rested rather nicely. It was comfortable to be himself, rather than wear the rags and try to adapt with all of those people. They boy laughed and smiled to himself. When Natala, reached him and walked past without saying so much as a word, Odile sat up. He stared for a brief moment and, like an animal who had just seen their master.

Rather quickly, Odile rose from the grass and began to follow Natala. He didn’t want to become lost, after all. He followed her from a distance, like he usually had. He never liked walking so close to her. It was never something that he did. The two rarely spoke, despite them travelling together so often.

---

Liza was more-or-less minding her own business until an Angel descended. The artists cheeks flushed upon the sight of her. Just… how? Usually, Liza’s urges were sated for a good while after she had done a good deed. Usually, it took her at least a week. But this? It hadn’t even been two days. Just looking at the small frame of a girl made Liza’s mind explode. She couldn’t quite say what it was that made the ex-slave so attracting… but the feeling was anything she had ever felt before. This… this had to be it. Liza knew it. This unknown being had the potential to outperform anything and anyone. Liza would make her great. The greatest. Yes, Liza was sure the second she had laid eyes upon this wonderful canvas, that was the one that would make her father proud.

A few long seconds passed without the masked stranger saying any word, more-or-less busy calming her aroused self down, before the artist put up her defenseless hands and began to speak. ”No need for weapons. I mean no harm.” Yes, Liza’s appearance was unusual - not to mention her distorted indistinguishable voice. While it was meant for protection the girl was also aware that nobody deserved the ugly sight of her. After all, Liza had been a bad girl.

As for the monstrosity that was following the Angel; Liza hasn’t seen him yet.

After another few seconds Natala exhaled her held breath. It was possible the... whoever was telling the truth. Aside from the mask and the weird voice they hadn't actually done anything threatening. That didn't mean that they weren't potentially dangerous, but they weren't actually being a threat.

She let the blade drop back into the sheath and looked back out into the rain. Natala didn't trust them but was done with being wet.

"I'm already soaked so I'll go find something to make a fire with."

---

Odile, watching the two of them converse, was rather jealous. He couldn’t speak as eloquently as them. What little murmurs came out of his mouth were garbled by the unnatural action of his voice. He was filled with frustration. He wanted to be with them, but every step he took towards them was harder and harder.

But as he slowly approached, he smelled something. Foul. That was the word to describe it. However, this was a smell that he and Natala shared. It was the smell of blood and Talze Utera. The smell was worse than both of them. Overpowering, even. Even Odile’s simple mind could grasp one thing - whoever this robed figure was, they could not be trusted.

Odile walked towards the two of them. Even though he knew about the danger, Natala didn’t. Closer and closer he walked until he reached them. He was in plain view by the time he stopped.

Charlotte always enjoyed being out and about. The sights of people, architecture, and landscapes never ceased to fascinate her, and she always appreciated meeting the variety of people on her wayward journeys across the countryside. Even on the grounds of her estate of her quaint vineyard, she more often preferred to be out in the fields, enjoying the cool breeze of the wind against her face rather than stay cooped up in the stagnant air of an old, musty house.

That said, it seemed her recent company didn’t share her enthusiasm on the matter. A younger girl with a keen interest in antiquities, over the several days that they had traveled together, the golden-haired girl had come to the conclusion that she had little appreciation towards the life on the road. For Charlotte, at least, the inconvenience of travel was lessened this time around by the accompaniment of one of her servants.

She realized that she’d never asked Alexis her opinion on travels.

As the sky darkened and she felt the first droplets of rain against her skin, she nodded at Lillet’s observation. Pulling the cloak around her closer to her body, she wrapped the garment snugly around her. While matters of warmth affected her little as a vampire, she could not deny the comfort of a thick, insulating layer. Glancing upwards at the miserable grey sky, she called out to her traveling companion ahead of her. “If your map is right, I wouldn’t slog it out in the rain today. How about we set up camp nearby?”

Apparently the location of interest was considered to be a fairly untouched place; their purple-haired companion was certainly interested in its scholastic value. Charlotte, on the other hand, sought for a unique experience, and for a story to collect. What sort of things and creatures would they find inside? If it was trouble, she knew Alexis would disapprove, but finding and working her way out of problems came as a second nature to Charlotte.

Unfortunately, with still a little under a day’s time towards the old ruins that the trio came to see, under the prospect of heavy rain and miserable weather, it was clear they wouldn’t make much headway out on the exposed dirt roads off in the countryside. Had they been closer, they might have been able to hurry and take shelter in the ruins they came for, but it was not to be.

The disguised vampire glanced at the butler girl at her side. “Unless either of you think we should press on?” She didn’t mind. There was a certain spark of adventure in braving out a storm on the road, too.

He had gotten used to life under Charlotte Wittenberg - the vampire of Illiserev. Though if there's one thing he learned over the years he has served under her, it was that she was an unpredictable person. While she makes an effort to hide her identity as a vampire, she likes getting into trouble, especially when she's bored. Though thankfully, she didn't willingly get into trouble within the walls of their town. Instead, she had gotten the bright idea of tagging along with this woman who had expressed interest in exploring ruins within the kingdom.

The woman's name, he learned after only a few minutes after their meeting, was Lillet Duchamps. Duchamps was a familiar family name - given their power within Illiserev. It wouldn't come as a surprise that he would know of them. Any servant who kept themselves updated in the lives of the nobles in Illiserev (to, of course, ensure their own liege's protection) would know about them. Alex had met the family once in his younger butler years when he was still with the Alurenzo family. This woman was not present at that time, however, which led to him not recognizing her. They were well-known for their power and the fact that they held a God of War - ancient beings of gargantuan size used in battle by their Chosen - whose name had been lost in his memory. Though it has been a while since he had heard from the Duchamps family, he has heard some talk while outside that the eldest son had acquired a Talentium weapon. However, something rubbed him the wrong way about Lillet and her relationship with the Duchamps family. He clearly remembered blonde hair meeting his eyes when he had first seen the family - then why was her hair so dark? Though he brushed this off as perhaps her mother or father were dark haired.

Ah, whatever. It shouldn't be too important of a detail anyway.

From only the short time they had been with her, Alex couldn't exactly see through her personality. While his master had taken it upon herself to interact with the woman, Alex had to keep an eye on her. His cautiousness should be understandable, considering the fact that anyone could be an enemy. He didn't doubt his master could protect herself, considering the facts, but it couldn't hurt to be careful. As time passed by, however, it didn't seem like she was much of a threat so Alex simply rested easily as he followed close behind them. What he has observed are the following: Lillet Duchamps was a friendly person who could work well with strangers. She seemed to be very interested in these ruins, unlike his master who had other reasons for wanting to go out. She didn't seem to be as arrogant as her family. She is, admittedly, good company.

He turned his head towards Lillet as she spoke. Ah so they wouldn't be getting to the ruins by this day? He supposed it was fine. The area was calming anyhow. Away from the bustling city, away from prying eyes and away from dangers brought upon by men with power. He looked upwards, seeing the worsening weather made him frown. It wasn't very surprising, to be honest. Illiserev was known for its harsh weather so it makes sense to travel heavily, no matter how short you think your trip may be.

"But of course, Lady Duchamps." Alex replied. The dark haired butler had made sure to pack everything that he and his master would need for this trip, though he knew that Lady Charlotte would be smart enough to bring her own things. Only a few moments after that, droplets of rain began pelting them. It was only a drizzle but he was sure it would worsen overtime. He raised the hood of his cloak that he had been wearing. He would be a fool to not wear even a semblance of extra clothing.

Alex looked back at his master as she asked if either of them wanted to push forward with the storm to get to their location in time. He would normally agree to brave anything to get somewhere quickly; however, the problem with him was that he was worrying of it being a thunderstorm. Not only would it spook the horses (which would be the reason he would present should they decide they want to brave the storm), he would be extremely... scared, as much as he hated to admit it. "I agree with m'lady. It would be difficult to continue down the path while it is raining." He finally said as he looked forward once again.

Notia touch the frail crimson petals of once strong flower, now it had been stomped and desecrated. Crushed beneath the sole of someone’s boots. He looked behind his shoulder, pass the only woman to have accompanied them, and beyond the dense forestry that loomed in wait. A small part of him could see it, the imaginary trip back into the past. A shadow-veiled figure skillfully darting through the moonlit forest, careful to leave no traces but in a hurry irregardless.

Perhaps-, he had begun to think before hearing the beautiful Ambroise voice her concern.

Secretly, he felt himself drift into empathy for her, something that only happened when his sixth-sense had willed it to. Her voice was thinly glazed with apprehension or caution; a soft, clear wax that asked for acceptance or acknowledgement. He fixed his gaze to the ground now, making sure to avoid her curious eyes just in case his staring had become worrisome.

A breath escaped him and from the silence of the others, whom he had hoped to answer her, he spoke calm, gentle; his wrist falling to the hilt of his katana: Cragsky. “The Goddess does not make mistakes. Four for one. It will take at least this much. Are you afraid?” he asked indifferent.

@Asuras

“Phew~” Jacque removed the canteen from his lips with a relieved sigh as he looked back at the mountain the four of them had hustled to cross over. Already partially obscured by the forest they’d entered a while ago, he supposed that the four of them were making good progress. Each step was marked by a crunch underfoot, be it a fallen branch or fresh grass, and there was the soft pitter patter of drizzle. The ambient noises did little to muffle yet another of Ambroise’s sighs though, and it was already a familiar sound to his ears in just a single day.

Though Jacque’s pace did not slow, he tilted his head to consider Ambroise’s question until Notia spoke up and broke the silence that had refallen over the four. “Such faith,” he remarked after a bit of soft laughter, “but relax. Such ominousness is unneeded, no?” As the others might have come to expect, he spoke with a relaxed tone, clearly unworried for the moment.

Admittedly, he did not know a lot about the serial killer the four had been tasked to hunt down beyond what they had been told. Virtuoso had been active for some time now, was responsible for deaths in all three nations, left a calling card with each victim, and seemed to use a wide variety of methods on the victims. “It would be best not to underestimate them. Just because we are four does not mean we hold the advantage,” he said as he broke a low hanging branch so it wasn’t in the way.

“With that said, there could be many reasons all four of us were sent. From what I know, all three of you are capable individuals. I have not worked with any of you before though, so perhaps this is meant to familiarize us with one another. It could be a way of showing that Astopol takes this threat to their citizens lives seriously enough to send four of us. From what I understand, you also work best in a group Ambroise, so that’s likely another reason.” Rolling his shoulders, he looked over his shoulder towards the others.

“I think the ruins we saw while up on the mountains is just another hour or so. Shall we stop there lunch, or rely on our rations?” About to look back ahead, he paused as if remembering something. “Oh, and Ambroise? Sighing isn’t a language.” Saying that with a smile, he looked ahead to make sure the path was fairly clear before he spun about and walked backwards so he could face the three others.

As dangerous as the task set before them was, Hector still preferred it to life back home in Astopol. This was what he was meant to do. Hunting down monsters and degenerates and smiting them in the Goddess's name was far better than being the master of a crippled house, constantly badgered from both within his house and outside to marry and rebuild the family line, and looked down upon by his peers for his entirely justified hatred of the monstrous and the unclean.

He shook the thoughts from his head, trying to be more mindful of the environment around him. They were soon approaching their destination, and knights were already unsubtle at the best of times. The Taldeer Massacre had forever seared the importance of vigilance in his mind, and he kept eyes and ears on the forest around the group, half-aware of the other three's conversation as he kept watch.

"Jacque speaks truly." He murmured quietly, one hand on his sword at all times. "We'd do well to stay vigilant. None of us are particularly suited for stealth, so this killer will likely know of our approach." He flashed the man a quick look upon taking his question into consideration. "The ruins would be an ideal point to break. We'll fare better against this filth while fed and well-rested."

The rain continued to patter downwards, turning from droplets into a soft veil. It was more of a heavy mist now, a damp blanket over the entirety of the evergreen forest. And it was within this silent world that a fact became obvious to all those who had paid attention.

In the absence of the rain’s melodies, the absolute, uncanny silence of the forest stood out even more than before. Though filled with verdant vibrance in comparison to the more barren, wind-sculpted parts of Illiserev, not a single thing moved outside of the humans and the beasts of burden drawn into its embrace. Migratory birds no longer flew through the skys, and no forest critters could be seen at all. Worms didn’t wriggle out of the ground to soak in the rain, nor did foxes scamper within the thick brush. There was a distinct nothingness to the forest now, as rain turned into heavy mist, a white silence.

But there was nothing more to that silence.

Nothing but an arcane flicker, tracing through the minds of the attuned for but an instant. A premonition that something had changed. Something had happened. Something had arrived.

A moment of unease, followed by the self-same scenery.

The change in the rain, to a lighter, but no less constant mist, was almost welcome. It seemed the storm was not worsening, at the very least. Though if the wet chill wasn't already soaking through Lillet's cloak before, it certainly was gaining a greater foothold now. Breaking for camp would, definitely be for the best, if only for the opportunity to warm and dry themselves by a fire. Provided, of course, that wood dry enough to burn could be found.

"We should probably keep going, at least until we find some better shelter," she replied to the others. "If we're lucky, we might even be able to sleep somewhere relatively dry." She barked out a brief laugh at that, not quite trusting in her own assertion. The sudden silence, once she had stopped talking, was unusual. Without the gentle patter of the rain, the forest was eerily quiet. It was as if their small expedition were the only thing moving in the area. And then, a brief flicker through her mind, some sort of warning come unbidden from without. Something had changed, in the magical environment, at least. She recognized the source of that brief frisson of unease, at least that far.

"Charlotte, did you just feel that," she asked, assuming that the man in their company would not have the sensitivity to such a thing. "I think it may, indeed, be best if we hurry on ahead." Lillet was the sort to throw caution to the wind. If something had happened, she wanted to be there and see it. Then she could worry about whether or not it was a good idea. Her excitement about this expedition continued to build. If that something had happened at those ruins...they might just be something well worth the trip.

The weather began to lighten up just a bit. While the dull grey of rainclouds continued its endless existence over the horizon, it seemed like the trio might catch a break after all and miss the brunt of the incoming storm. She made a small smile more resembling a smirk in the direction of the maid-butler. Perhaps Alexa wouldn’t encounter her greatest adversary this time? Her answer was predictable. “Right then, let’s take this lull and find us a good spot while we can.”

But as Charlotte spoke her nonchalant words, a slow chill ran through the vampire’s already cold body. Deadly silence replaced the pitter patter of rain. In a forest full of wildlife, normally fraught with the sounds of birdsong and repetitive tone of incessant insects, the absence of noise was more than just unnerving; it was ominous.

And then she felt it.

A simple presence. It flickered briefly, a feeling of premonition running through her arcane circuits. Charlotte took another step and stopped, checking her immediate surroundings. Her amused expression had long been wiped off her face, replaced by one that was wary and filled with caution. The golden-haired vampire spoke at almost the same time as their scholarly traveling companion. “We should stop—Yeah, I did.” She craned her head back, giving her butler a glance as if to say ‘be ready.’

The forest continued in its silence. “Right you are. I don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in this forest; something’s definitely afoot. I hope you've still got some energy, because we’re getting out of here.” By her own estimates, if they flew with the wind and proceeded at a gallop, they might reach the relative shelter of the ruins by nightfall.

She picked up her pace. Naturally, she was curious about the presence she’d felt. It was something different. But at the same time, her instincts told her to get out.

At least the three of them were pretty good fighters, huh?

With the rain not looking like it'll worsen soon made him feel more at ease. He wasn't exactly sure how he'd feel, showing how utterly terrified he was of thunder to a new person he never even met before. When Lady Duchamps spoke of continuing on, stating that they might be able to find good shelter further down the road. Well, if the rain doesn't worsen, then he supposed it was alright. It acted more like a mist that blanketed the area. He looked at his master and didn't miss that small smirk she gave him. Of course she won't pass up an opportunity to tease him. She then spoke of maybe finding an area around where they could settle down, favoring them stopping for the meantime.

Alex was about to speak when he noticed something odd. Besides, the pattering of the rain, there was nothing. There was only eerie silence. There were no wildlife that scampered around, no insects who constantly buzz that constant and oddly calming noise - there was absolutely no sound. This, naturally, alerted the dark haired butler. He was sure this wasn't normal. They were in a forest for crying out loud, something should be out there making noise... but there were none.

As if to further put him off, he had felt something. He was not sure what it was. It only appeared for a quick second before mysteriously disappearing again. He could only describe it as that - a mere feeling. A feeling that something was out of place, that something around them had changed... and it had something to do with magic. Though he was sure that the other two had also felt it, so he kept silent about it. He watched as Lady Duchamps asked Lady Charlotte if she felt it - she probably assumed he couldn't feel it considering he is a male - and his master replied with a nod. She shot him a look - a look that told her to be alert.

Oh, he was way ahead of her. If something were to suddenly appear and attack, he was mentally prepared for a fight. He can't afford to lose a single fraction of a second to a surprise attack - it would be too risky. He just hoped it wasn't anything too major. Although it would seem that it will only stay as 'hope' since every fiber in his body wanted to bolt out of that forest and into somewhere else. His subconscious was screaming at him to book it out of there with the two in tow to avoid whatever caused that disturbance. He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath.

"Good." He muttered when Lady Charlotte told them that they would be getting out of there. He wasn't sure whether or not they heard him or not; hell, he wasn't even sure if he said it out loud or not. He didn't care much about it though. He was sure they'd let him off the hook for commenting unnecessarily. He was actually worried that the two would decide that it would be a good idea to further research on this strange disturbance. Given Lady Duchamps's scholastic attitude and Lady Charlotte's tendency for making trouble, the conclusion wasn't without basis. He felt relieved when they said that they should get out of here. He couldn't agree more.

Unlike the two who held curiosity in their minds, Alex never felt the need to find out what it is. After all, his mind was already set on getting out and protecting the two from harm. He stuck close to them but lagged behind a little so he was the one protecting the rear. He kept in pace with them at least. He slid his hand inside his vest to feel four of the knives that were hidden on his person. Knowing that he had something to protect his liege with was calming for him.

A spark, like the sound of a snapping twig, flickered at the back of Ambroise's mind. A sense, like deja vu, but far sharper and defined. The woman paused, her hand instinctively finding its way over the pommel of her sword. Had the rest of the group lacked the faculties to sense such things, they would have heard the clamor of her sheathe and belt against one another.

Being a mage with extensive range to their spells, Ambroise's sense of the arcane in its most fundamental form was exceptional. To cast a spell at far ranges, sometimes remotely rather than as a spell with a vector, one had to truly know where their magic was, especially after it was cast. Subsequently realizing where the spell had ended up if out of sight was critical to knowing how to adjust the next time. The arcane flicker that darted through the area was easily attuned to, though it remained in existence far too briefly for Ambroise to get a sense of its origin.

On edge, the woman gripped her sword handle as she stopped.

"Were any of you blind to the signal I had just sensed, I would advise you all to be on guard. There's something unnatural afoot," she said, eyes scanning across the horizon.

Liza knew what her plan of action was. Considering this one would become her masterwork, one to trump everything she had ever done, the Artist was certain that she would take her time. For that, the next logical step was to be able to stick around this newcomer without bringing up any suspicion.

Friends, that was the term, Liza had to become friends with the nameless female stranger. ”I am Liza, a traveling Artist! How about I h-” In that moment the masked figure glimpsed something else. The sight of an Abomination. The girl couldn’t quite reason how this behemoth came so close before her attention shifted. ”Watch out!” She yelled at the other female.

Liza had to act quick If this beast was to damage her canvas she would never forgive herself. Then again, maybe she should have been thankful? After all it gave her some insane lavage in her beginning relationship with the tattooed stranger. Saving the damsel in distress and all that.

Not even time to pull out one of her guns; Liza instead aimed her open palm towards Odile before a quick magical blast in form of a spinning arrow left her palm. As the attack connected with the monstrosities chest the monster got knocked back as Liza made haste to get closer towards Natala - for protection sake.

Natala had her sword half drawn by the time she managed to look over her shoulder at the mess behind her. The sword thumped back into the sheath as she instead reached up grasp Lizas arm.

“That’s… That’s my friend.”

She sighed and covered her face with the other hand. This was an awkward way to start things.

It hurt. The blast had sent Odile to the ground without much resistance. Odile wheezed as tears welled up. Numerous ribs were cracked. His skin was cut by the blast. He lay on the ground, clutching his chest as the pain took hold of him. All that was on his mind was the pain; he couldn’t think, not in the slightest.

Her friend? This… beast? Was her Masterpiece’s friend? Fuck. A myriad of emotions were going through the Artist’s mind upon that discovery. Though, in the end Liza responded with a. “I am so sorry!” with her emotion distorted by her small speech device she broke loose of Natala’s grip to check on the on the ground lying body. ”C-Can you hear me? I can provide first aid!”

Natala walked over with less haste than might be expected. She turned Odile over onto his back. This was one of the worst wounds she’d seen him take yet. Not that she could blame this stranger, Natala had done the same thing. Sighing again, she stood back up.

“He’ll be fine, let’s get that fire started.”

She headed towards the nearest treeline and unsheathed her blade. Some might frown at such abuse but even such a fine sword was a tool and it chopped wood very well. Then there was a feeling, one of those that wasn’t her own. It’s wasn’t quite anger, but disappointment. Natalia paused looking around. It was indistinct, with no obvious trigger.

As the masked character approached and spoke about first aid, Odile quickly swung his arm at them. He didn’t want to be comforted by this person; they were the one who reeked the most and the one that wounded Odile. His intuition was right - this person could not be trusted.

Upon being laid upon the ground, Odile grew still. His panicked frenzy had dulled into a seething bath of injury. He looked down and saw his own wounds. It wasn’t the worst that he had experienced. Though, no amount of experience would ever make him used to the pain. Soon, odd sensations began to overtake the pain. It felt as if his skin was being stretched and pulled, his bones forced back into place, and everything felt tight. Even if it was working slowly, his regeneration could repair this much.

Just...what… was he? The monster’s ‘friend’ treated this like an everyday occurrence. ‘Strong regeneration’ was what Liza thought about that. Close to a vampire but nothing immortal. Good. If both of them were friends it meant Liza had to get along with those thing as well. Just a small annoyance.

Still, with the monster taken out for now the masked Artist followed Natala to help her get the firewood into place. ”So, what’s your name and what is bringing you ‘here’?”

Natala finished cutting off a limb and looked over at Liza.

“I’m not sure that I want to tell someone that won’t even show their face.”

“I… don’t like showing my face to people.” Liza simply responded - wasn’t being an Artist enough of an excuse?!

The former slave shook her head and lopped off another branch. “Well it can’t be any uglier than my friends. Until you lose the mask you can call me Chained, I suppose.”

Urgh. This was really something. Usually, Liza wouldn’t care, but considering this person was her Masterpiece, well… ”...I-I’ll m-make an exception for you but you have to promise me to not laugh!” The masked Artist simply responded. After all, she was ‘supposed’ to find herself rather ugly. Taking it a step further, she even stretched out her hand for an handshake. ”Promise?”

Natala wasn’t sure what to think. She could well sympathize with not wanting to show her face, but this person seemed to be more embarrassed. Maybe this ‘Artist’ was on the run, like her. She pursed her lips and then took the hand. “Sure”

”Alright.” Liza nodded before taking off her mask to give her soon-to-be a good, long, look. ”Well, satisfied?” With her voice distortion gone Liza’s natural voice could be heard as well. Her face made a clear uncomfortable expression.

She couldn’t see why Liza had insisted on hiding her face and had been so embarrassed about taking the mask off. Maybe it was simply to put out a tougher appearance. Certainly this rather childish face wouldn’t do much to deter anyone from bothering her. Natala smiled. “I’m Natala, nice to meet you.”

Jacque nodded towards Hector for the support of his suggestions, but he felt a bit disheartened when his other companions remained silent. Only for a moment though as it let him quickly pick up on the unnatural stillness and silence brought by the heavy fog. He spun around to face forward as he walked forward with a deliberate heaviness to the step. Yet for all the noise he made, there was an eerie lack of response. His skin crawled as he moved to grab his weapon, but a sensation gave him pause.

The sound told Jacque what he wanted to know, but he glanced back at Ambroise nonetheless, sharing a look with the other magic user, before he nodded. So it hadn’t just been a trick of his mind. His sense for magic was fairly limited and he had never found a talent for analysis of lingering traces. Confirmation by the superior mage helped settle his unease somewhat and he nodded for Ambroise to keep up.

“She’s right. I guess that means no break for us...” He smiled sadly as if that prospect was more harrowing than whatever situation the four of them were now a part of. Drawing forth two sections of Evloga, he locked them together and tapped it against a tree he passed by. The remaining two sections and the folded flag remained in its holder for the moment. “The town’s to the north west right?” He asked the others as he looked down at the compass clipped to his belt.

With no magical skill to speak of, Hector could only take Ambroise and Jacque's statement at face value, nodding his understanding. The heavy fog around him only added to his unease, with the young noble noting that this was the perfect territory and atmosphere for an ambush.

Hector blinked once, and all of a sudden, his vision was filled with nothing but the sight of his allies being fallen upon by monsters, screams filling the air. He blinked a second time, and the delusion was gone. Hector shook his head, trying to focus back on the present. No. It wouldn't happen again this time. He would be more watchful. He wouldn't allow another massacre of his allies to occur.

"Right. With this in mind, stopping for a rest would just leave us open for an ambush. Best to keep moving. Keep alert, and keep your weapons at the ready. We've likely already been detected by our quarry."

"Onward, then!" Lillet shouted, spurring her horse to a quicker trot along their barely-visible path through the forest. Reckless as she was, she couldn't bring herself to a fully incautious pace; the loss of her mount would be a worse setback than simply being careful enough to avoid it happening in the first place.

They likely still wouldn't reach the ruins by nightfall, but putting more distance behind them would still be better than not. Whatever had caused that premonition might be gone by the time they arrived, anyway. Lillet could only speculate as to what it was, but it better be important. Didn't seem like a God, or anything of that nature. Definitely something magical...but didn't feel like a spell going off, either.

She did keep an eye out for potential danger they were probably rushing toward. Certainly, part of her confidence was simple-minded bravado. But part of it was that she could also drop an 18-meter tall war machine on top of things in a moment's notice. It had been a while since Aeon had gotten any proper exercise.

They didn’t notice it.

Perhaps it was because they were more focused on each other. Perhaps it was because Odile was still groaning softly in pain. Perhaps it was none of those things. But regardless, neither of them realized what had happened before it did.

In that moment, an old scar was reopened, the world cracking at its edges once more. The sound of reality breaking, of glass shattering, sounded through the soft mist, as another pulse of arcane energy rushed through the entire forest. The pine trees swayed and the earth rumbled, as the stone pillars almost seemed to resonate with the sound, tuning forks vibrating to the world’s cries. And then…

…it all fell apart.

It wasn’t a rift in the sky. It wasn’t black ooze that reformed once it struck the ground. It was the scenery before their eyes falling apart, revealing a black abyss where the idyllic ruins once were. And from that abyss, two massive hands reached out, six claws latching onto the very fabric of reality. A howl heralded its heroic efforts as it forced the gate to widen further. Its head emerged next, goat-like head with an open, circular mouth. Dozens of teeth ringed it, each appearing to wriggle on its own as its six emerald eyes flickered about, pupils scrambling in different directions, as more of its massive body emerged.

Nine meters tall, its height just made it all the more wiry, its limbs much too thin to support its hammerhead and its muscled torso. Red lines traced up and down its form, glowing like magma, and its gray tongue, long and hard, extended until it reached the center of its chest, before swaying back and forth.

As if it was tasting the foreign air.

The six eyes settled upon where Natala, Liza, and Odile rested, before another banshee cry rushed out of its maw, a roar that blew away the mist and bent the trees.

Perhaps it was because she had already braced herself for 'something' that the scourge upon reality had only elicited a glare from Ambroise. Still, her hand gripped tighter around her blade until caution got the better of her, and she finally decided to unsheathe it. What had burrowed out of the void wasn't their original target, but it was a target of humanity in general. Any knight worth their salt would turn their sword upon a Rift Beast given the chance. Attacking it went without saying, if indeed her comrades were as willing as she, but the better question was if they had the ability.

"I think we may need to shift gears towards another enemy," she said, "I've never fought a Rift Beast before, but if we are all confident in our abilities, then I would very much love to have one's head to my name." She stepped forward, siding up alongside the others as she turned her chin up to the horizon. The creature was visible just over the treeline, seemingly complacent with merely emerging upon the world for the time being. They could attain the element of surprise.

"If we must approach, we must do it slowly. I shall stay at the back, of course, and will provide support should the worst come to pass. I will focus on protecting you all until we can better gauge the enemy's strengths. That is... unless we decide to retreat to town instead."