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As Tiferet brought her song to its conclusion, she heard Elian's voice whispering in her ears, saying that she'd come find her once Elian had enough people. Tiferet grinned and sent back a one-word message. "Gotcha." In her mind, "If you aren't done when I've got people, I'll come find you" translated roughly into "Keep playing until you hear me yelling at you," so Tiferet took a moment to collect up the bits of change that had been tossed her way before launching into another fiercely energetic number, as much to get everyone pumped up for their impending expedition as to make some money.

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Hawkwood explained that most things that archaeologists find were never the type of things to be buried. It'd slipped her mind, and honestly made her feel a little bit stupid. Thankfully her armored mask concealed her face, now a shade of red. Once they reached the meeting point Ebon crouched and set her packs down, her medical kit and travelling kit, checking and rechecking everything. If she forgot her painkiller potions, some of her patients might not sit still for treatment, slowing the healing process. Potentially a disaster. In the middle of her recheck an older looking man stepped in, speaking to Elian with familiarity. One of their teammates presumably. The way he walked in reminded her of someone, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it, being occupied with her equipment check. Time went on while Ebon did detailed checks of her supplies, a bard began to play an upbeat tune with a violin, making Ebons lengthy check less mundane. Although it would be so much easier to assume that she'd gotten everything, her brother insisted that whenever she check something important, it was worth doing twice, or even three times in detail.

Just as Ebon began to pack her kit again, Elian spoke up, calling Hawkwood the Dork Knight and Ebon the Flashing Fencer. She smiled, she did get pretty quick, especially compared to when she first started out. She got up and bowed gracefully to return the greeting. She listened closely when Elian began to greet the others. Landon, the one who came in just as Hawkwood and Ebon arrived, was apparently a troublemaker. Elian greeted Graves, but when Ebon looked around she couldn't spot him, even on the tips of her toes. He would arrive shortly. Then Tiferet, the bard, she guessed. She looked to the bard when she saw a flying red snake zip by out of the corner of her eye, she let out a surprised yelp and put her hand on her mask, where her mouth would be. Hoping nobody saw or heard. Once she realized the snake was not even the size of a small dog and that it seemed to be attacking a larger armored man, she slowly let her hand fall back to her side. Once again thankful she wore her mask. A woman arrived shortly after the snake, cursing at it. The armored man wasn't bothered that much by it. Ebon looked around at her teammates, the group was sizing up pretty well. The armored man spoke up in introduction, “Good morning scrubs and scrubettes. Are we ready to get moving, get pwning, and most importantly, GIT GUD? For those that do not know, I am Thael, and I will be using my hella strongth and toight aggro to tunk for you today."

Ebon blinked hard in disbelief. His colorful vocabulary was strange to her, but when she looked around to see if anyone else was as puzzled as her, she found that nobody seemed to be. Another armored man spoke up, introducing himself as Graves, the armor he wore was fairly typical of a game but... Ebon glanced away, not wanting to stare, right towards Landon. He gave a quick introduction to the fencer, short and sweet. Earning himself a quiet, surprised, "Oh!" from Ebon. She bowed and was just about to give her own introduction to Landon, but found that his attention was now elsewhere. With a party this size, he would have to move quickly to give everyone a personal introduction, Ebon reasoned.
What a gentleman, she thought to herself, she noticed his attention was on the firemage. Presumably to introduce himself to her, although she was a bit busy with her snake, then he looked to the ranger who had just arrived. After her introduction, Landon rose his eyebrows suggestively and grinned. Ebon just let out an unamused "Oh." Now she knew what kind of troublemaker he was. She rolled her eyes and walked to Hawkwood, just as Tiferet began another song, more energetic this time. She tapped him on the helmet, "Done with your equipment check? Sharp steel? All supplies good?" she asked the knight, snapping the questions off rapidly and putting her hands on her hips.

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There was no feeling quite like a respectfully firm, but not aggressive handshake. Getting the very distinct feeling that he and Landon would get along just fine, Hawkwood smiled. Once Landon had gone to go...oh damn he worked fast. Once Landon had gone to go browse the unknown women to him, Hawkwood simply went back to examining his equipment meticulously, laying out his weaponry and item inventory and cleaning the blades, grinding their steel against his whetstone...consequently making the place kinda reek of metal. His shield was propped up against his spear, a spare set of clothes in the form of a light gambeson lying out in the sun. Despite how accustomed he was to romping around in full armor with little issues, water posed a challenge for the rather heavy lorekeeper. As such, it was always best to carry armor light enough to swim in, but defensive enough to stop a well-placed dart from a sahaugin. A spear was just fine for underwater usage, and his arming sword could be useful in just about any situation he could think.

Tearing himself from his meticulous re-examination of his equipment, Hawkwood checked the contents of a small pouch filled to the brim with medicinal herbs and antidotal leaves. You never knew when the healer would be unable to tend to everyone at once, after all...and, poison was always rather nasty. Best to have options for any situation, Hawkwood thought as he tightened the cloth pouch's strings and re-attached it to his belt. After packing his gear, Hawkwood simply sat on the grass and listened to Tiferet's song in passing, appreciating the kind of atmosphere a musical companion brought. After all, people actually taking the time to LEARN an instrument was a rare thing in Pariah. Looking up once Ebon tapped on his helmet, Hawkwood gave a slight nod, before holding up his little poultice pouch. "Aye. Everything's as sharp as Elian's language, and I've got enough herbs to make Woodstock stop and look. We'll be fine. Even got a spare gambeson in case a newbie wets them self like last time." That...was probably the funniest thing he'd ever seen, being honest. He didn't even know the game would let you pee anywhere but your usual outhouse or bathroom. Too bad that guy stopped playing Pariah forever...Hawkwood would never get back that spare gambeson. Although, he wasn't sure he'd want it that much...

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Graves Bludd moved at the vanguard of the raid party, his massive frame providing a shield for the weaker members of their group to take cover behind if anything went wrong during the trek over. He felt the weight of his gargantuan halberd. It was perfectly balanced, with the center of balance at the head of the polearm. The weapon's cumbersome nature was oddly comforting to the brazen warrior. He'd always been of the opinion that the heavier the weapon, the stronger the fighter. He scoffed at people like Ebon, who thought a tiny toothpick of a sword was a worthy tool for a warrior of any real merit. His halberd could lob a monster's limb off in one clean swing. It made Andrew feel...powerful. In control of any situation, so long as he had his 'pike' in his gauntleted fists. He held the weapon at chest level, hands at an even spread on the shaft. This was his default stance. It allowed him a degree of versatility in any situation, as well as the ability to quickly swap to another stance if necessary.

The Blood Knight marched ever forward at a reasonable pace, keeping his eyes peeled for any would be ambushers. The short girl and the warrior were of the same mind: it was too quiet. Every dungeon Graves had raided possessed some form of outward defenses that needed to be pushed through. A small skirmishing force, meant to keep wandering players from easily approaching the heart of the dungeon. It made Bludd restless. His axe head demanded blood be spilled soon. The less time he spent fighting was more time spent walking with the ragtag party in relative silence. He wasn't wholly against quiet. In fact, Graves was usually mute during any activity that involved more than two people. He had vowed to keep distant from others. Relationships had never done anything for Andrew except leave him hurt and betrayed; it was better for Graves to be alone. If only I could play this stupid game alone. He grumbled to himself. He loved the contents of Pariah and other MMOs. The fantastical adventures, the visceral combat, and the compelling nature of a player driven narrative drew him in. Singleplayer RPGs never sated his desires like a good MMO did. The only drawback was that the game necessitated he work with others, which meant getting close to people.

Ew.

Graves was glad he'd found Elian. Unlike most people that formed parties, the irreverent dancer kept Bludd at arms length- so far, anyway. Her banter was actually enjoyable to engage in. He never had to worrk about any of that touchy feely bullshit. The Blood Knight hoped his working relationship with her remained just that: work. They only went to one another when a dungeon was too difficult to do with moronic pubbies, or there was a raid that required large parties. She provided most of the teammates, all of whom tended to be new faces, and Graves provided his overwhelming badassery. A win-win, in his mind.

One of the other party members spoke aloud what the tank had been wondering earlier. He looked over toward the smaller frame of Rael, raising a questioning brow in her direction. "No kidding." Graves returned. She was correct, things had been far too quiet so far. He could only assume something was up. "Could be they're scared shitless of us." He joked. "Or it could be a trap." The large man grew serious, turning around to address the entire party. "Hey, fuckheads!" He crassly called to get everyone's attention. "Tighten up! Tanks on the outside, squishies on the inside. Don't leave our flanks exposed, unless you like it up the ass by surprise. Got it?" Bludd turned back around, moving forward once again. "Amateurs." He muttered just loud enough for the smaller tank to hear. "They're gonna get us wiped. I'm betting on it."

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“Now that’s a question I can get behind. When are we going to stop wasting time and get to it? T’would be nice.”

A young woman known as Rael stated. "Here here!" the southern sweetheart agreed. Though her DROX affiliated soul found little to no pleasure in fighting creatures and scouring dungeons; it was better than sitting around and doing nothing. People still introduced themselves as Mirage followed along with everyone. She was very intuitive that way. The crease in the corners of her eyes as a small smile formed on her lips.

"I see you've met the resident assface. He's lucky it's a /nice/ ass, or I wouldn't put up with him."

The girl laughed, nodding her head. "I barely know him, but I can tell he's an assface. It's great to meet others who are less ...assfaced." She returned the handshake, her slender fingers wrapping around Elian's as she gave a gentle but firm shake of appreciation. Keeping everyone alive was a very important task, and Mirage was going to make sure she was in good standing with their group's dedicated healer. Her eyes looked over to the man Elian referred to as 'Goggles'. Handsome, but surely all the handsome ones were ones to look out for. "He wouldn't stand a chance." Mirage teased, as she shifted the weight of her hips and adjusted her bow across her back, watching as Elian lowered their flag.

Elian gave quite the speech, which was not expected. Mirage nodded, not objecting to any of the rules set for their group, the motley crew began their walk. As the sun began to reach it's peak in Pariah, Mirage couldn't help but take notice in the beauty of detail that was held in this world. The way the fauna molded across the land and small creatures could be seen dashing to and fro from time to time. Their walk had been dreadfully non eventful in the scheme of things. Mirage kept tabs of every movement as they walked, and she found absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

Rael said what everyone was thinking, and Graves of course was first to respond loudly. "Even traps have traces." Mirage said, noting that even the sneakiest of creatures in Pariah that she had come across had some sort of signal to their traps; whether it be a certain marking on the ground or a scrape across a tree. Both in which there were none. She shook her head at the large buffoon once more. Why had she been so easily intrigued by him? She could have left him in the bustling city but here she was risking her life for him, and the few others in their party.

She took an arrow from her quiver, letting the shaft slide through her fingers readying it. She found herself more towards the back middle, as the tanks surrounded them. "I personally like it up the ass with or without surprise. But you knew that Graves. Your aim has been getting rusty since the incident. You'd think with a dick your size you'd be able to find the right hole every once in awhile." she spoke, a devious grin ingrained in her jawline. Mirage knew if she was going to die today it was going to be within minutes of a smart ass comment slipping from her lips. Worst case scenario, she'd get the tank's blood boiling just enough to kill some of the monsters that lingered in this dungeon ahead of them.

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Graves T. Bludd had never been lauded for being of good report. He had a reputation among anyone that had run into him for being crude, crass and volatile. The man had made more than one sexually charged joke in his time playing Pariah. He found it humorous to watch other people squirm, and it tended to be an effective means of making people with good intentions avoid him- after all, who'd want to spend time with a creep? His strategy of making himself as rude and unapproachable as humanly possible worked with most players. Graves's attitude was widely considered as toxic beyond repair. Only a select few tolerated his bullshit behavior, and the number of people whom did it in any way Bludd appreciated was even smaller. Elian was a good example of running with how he acted in the right manner. She carried on just long enough for the interaction to not grow tiresome, and the dancer rarely moved into territories Andrew was uncomfortable with. However, it was quite easy to play around with Graves incorrectly. He turned on people quickly, having no qualms showing hostility toward someone for one misinterpreted joke or side comment. The Blood Knight's explosive anger was a defining trait that he had little control over.

Mirage's innocent enough jest hit all of his buttons just in the wrong way. She suggested that the two of them had some kind of deeper connection in the past as lovers. That was her first mistake. It went against every barrier he had ever tried to put up. In a handful of words, the ranger had managed to bring his whole persona under questioning by everyone else- he'd have to do something drastic to reset the scales. He couldn't have people thinking there was any truth to that statement. Her second, more grievous mistake was painting him as inadequate. Andrew Gray's self esteem had always been fragile. He tended to keep it protected through a false devil-may-care attitude. After all, if he pretended to be cool and strong and brave for long enough, everyone else might start to see him as those things. To have his ego put under the microscope by a total stranger made the warrior's skin crawl. Compound both of these together with the normal pre-dungeon stress that weighed on the tank, Mirage had unknowingly created the perfect storm for pissing the tall man the hell off.

The Blood Knight slowed to a halt. He closed his eyes, taking a handful of deep breaths in an attempt to keep his anger under control. The halberd found itself stabbed deep into the soft earth, top half first. He started to remove his steel gauntlets, tossing the metal vambraces to the ground alongside his large weapon. Look pissed off. He mentally prepared himself. He had to play up how easily enraged he was. Andrew, while a hot head by nature, was not nearly as explosive as Graves showed himself to be. Everything was apart of a clever, almost subconscious attempt to be someone he was not. In a way, Andrew was playing a character. He didn't think of it as Roleplaying, but it was quite clear in his mind that Graves and Andrew were two different personas he swapped between whenever he played Pariah. It was funny. He could be himself in real life because he never had to drive unwanted attention away. Nobody in his bumfuck, backwards town cared about him. Even his parents were distant. He'd never say it, but...honestly? He liked having to fight off people's attention. In some twisted way, Andrew didn't actually want to be alone.

The huge crimson fighter turned around to face the group at large. His intense gaze locked onto the woman's. One could tell a lot about someone by looking into their eyes. And looking into Graves' eyes was like staring into the sun. They burned with an intense passion, fueled by unquenchable anger, as they directed themselves toward her own gaze. He stepped forward, his face contorting with indignation. "Liar!" The fury in the tank's voice was unmistakably. It thundered, loud and deep, directly from his very soul. "I don't even know you, you little fucking whore!" Graves reeled his arm back in the most telegraphed punch ever thrown. Anyone with even an ounce of combat experience could have seen it coming and reacted accordingly. It was an impossibly sluggish movement. Even as he rocketed his fist forward, one might swear they could see it aimed past his target's head. His footwork was all wrong, too. There wasn't any twist of momentum in the blow, so it lacked a significant amount of force behind it. It was all a finely crafted act. The anger, the incompetence, all of it- an attempt to show everyone that he was an asshole and a monster that no one in their right mind would want to associate with.

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The next few moments were a blur for Landon as he saw Graves throw a thundering punch at Mirage, saw her feet shift in preparation to dodge and her eyes recoil from the sheer hurt thrown at her by the tank's foul words - and saw Hawkwood, that gallant fool, step forward to intercede. The party hadn't even made it to the dungeon, and disaster was going to tear it apart.

Fortunately, Landon was a fool too. Plus Mirage was pretty hot.

His hand flicked to the quiver on his belt as he slid forward across the smooth grass with a broad motion that startled Hawkwood back enough to keep the knight from getting in the way. His other hand hooked briefly around Mirage's waist and pulled her to him, hip-to-hip, as he sidestepped her out of the way of the punch. He jabbed himself with the cylindrical tip of the bolt a split-second before-

POW!

Torn from his tentative grasp of Mirage, the punch took him straight in the face (to the surprise of Graves, who hadn't actually expected to hit anything with the punch). His legs seemed to shoot out from under him as he fell, more like he had run into Graves's fist than the other way around. He hit the ground with a thud. The odd part was that he could feel the sensation of being struck, of hitting the ground, but somehow...it didn't actually *hurt.* Which was lucky, because that's exactly what he counted on happening. If it hadn't worked...well. He was just glad it had worked, and that he hadn't been wearing his goggles on his face at the time.

Before anyone could react in the stunned silence that followed, Landon sprang up to his feet and tossed away his smushed cigarette - the primary casualty of the punch - with an annoyed flick of his fingers. "Cool yer jets, you two," he half-growled as he turned a scolding glare at Graves - and a wink at Mirage - before he lit up another cig and stuck it into his lips. "Save it for the monsters. You guys can beat each other up all you like after we beat this dungeon!"

There was a large bruise on Landon's face, but as the group watched - and as Elian darted toward him, Graves and Mirage - the bruise faded away until his face was unmarred. Landon measured their reactions and couldn't hide the smirk that came to his face-

SMACK!

"Hey! What was that for?" Landon rubbed the back of his head where Elian had just whacked him with an open palm. He hardly felt it thanks to the jolt of magic from the bolt, but the indignity of it was enough for him to react.

"For showing off, that's what!"

"Spoilsport," grumbled Landon. Elian moved toward Graves and Mirage with a huff.

"So, why aren't you dead, again?" asked Vulcan, who had woken up a little at the violence and yelling, but was already slipping back into his dozing even as he stood there.

Landon pulled another crossbow bolt out of his quiver and held it up for the group to see. The bolt was tipped with a cylinder, capped with metal on both ends, and the middle had three distinct layers of glowing light - red, blue, and green. "Custom buff infusion," he explained. "Red for strength, blue for tougher skin, and green for regeneration. The metal caps conduct magic energy, so when it hits you, the magic gets pumped into you, no needles, no fuss. It works through armor, too, and gives you about a minute before the enhancement wears off."

The gadgeteer slipped the bolt back into its case. The pleasure of getting to demonstrate his genius was dulled by the intensity of the fierce words that had led up to it; and though he had drawn attention away from it, he could tell by the way Elian moved that the incident wasn't over yet.

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Tessa watched as a large group left the lawn, without stopping to buy any enchantments either! From her paranoid observational skills, the group looked like a nightmare to deal with, strong personalities, and from the look of it, the only thing holding it all together was their common acquaintance, the elf-looking healer. Tessa wondered how one was able to enter Pariah as an elf, and wished she had had the opportunity for character customization. Maybe it was a cheat or an exploit. The group also had that ass, Landon Longcross, a fellow Queon affiliate with a penchant for women. Perhaps Tessa should be grateful that the group didn't approach to buy enchantments. If she had to hear Landon say how 'enchanting' she was, she would probably drown and skin some NPC's virtual puppy.

Seeing that the lawn had mostly cleared out, Tessa packed up her stall. It was a simple, collapsible setup consisting of a few boards and poles, the fabric awning that provided her shade used to wrap everything together. She headed for the inn near the city's gate. It want the best place she could stay; it's primary business model was catching travelers who didn't have the time, energy, or knowledge to find a better in that was closer to the city center, but it's distance from the hustle and bustle of the center was precisely why Tessa chose it. As she neared the gate, she saw a horse-drawn cart not too far off, and wondered why the driver had not driven the cart the remainder of the distance into the city. Maybe the driver was in some sort of distress, and Tessa would have just minded her own business, but the cart looked familiar: not many carts doubled as a storefront. Since she planned to commission something from the owner of the cart, she figured she'd help him out if he was in distress.

Coming closer, Tessa noticed the horse laying on its belly, drinking lazily from the river, Ochre laying nearby. Sleeping in Pariah was as weird to Tessa as someone logging in to an MMO just to go AFK. On the other hand, perhaps the VR environment was better than any place Ochre could sleep in his real life vicinity. But sleeping in her damp, crowded, crummy little apartment built character, that or pulling an all-nighter playing and hating herself in the morning when she had to get up for work. For Tessa, building character meant hating herself. Self-hate made people stronger, after all.

"You know, there's an inn you could stay at a couple of yards further," She said, not caring if she woke him up from his siesta.

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Okay, hitting girls was NOT okay. Frankly offended by the lack of chivalry, and also by the sloppy form of Graves' punch, Hawkwood had every intention to intervene...until Landon proved to be the biggest man by taking the punch and making sure Mirage wasn't at all in the way of it. Stunned, quite frankly, Hawkwood barely had time to twitch a finger before Landon was back on his feet and getting his face healed. Huh. Well, that certainly was...over fast.

Hawkwood, frankly feeling left in the dust, was a bit amazed at Landon's amazing invention...thing. That was certainly a kind of innovation if it worked so quickly, even for just a minor wound. Something like that though...in this time period, had to have been at least a smidge pricy to cobble together. Or, it could be dirt cheap. He didn't know. He's a historian, not an engineer after all. However, one thing was for sure...Hawkwood had never seen an item like that before in Pariah. That was the beauty of the VR world...at least one this complicated, in that every aspect of it was tangible and with qualities that could react appropriately. Perhaps a genius mind already thought of so many possibilities...but its damn hard to imagine that any one man can invent another form of science entirely for a fantasy landscape.

But enough thinking, Hawkwood figured as he went over, giving Landon a silent pat on the back in approval before resuming his position, looking over the newbies among the party. "Fiery tempers can lead to wipes, kids." he said through his steel cage of a helmet. "Best to keep in line and avoid talking about your privates, privates. No checking the angle of the dangle, and no slinging sashes around." he said, before pausing for a moment...was that joke too old for the general audience? Regardless, humor and slapstick aside, soon enough monsters would be upon them...and there was no greater killer than lack of preparation. Readying his spear, Hawkwood kept his rank and made sure to advance cautiously. Smelt like danger...and history.

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The group set off, this was her first dungeon, she wanted to do things right and by her brothers book. As the team set out beyond the safety of the city, Ebon kept to the rear, staying back roughly ten meters away. She kept her eyes and ears open for any monsters stalking them, and she was confident enough that if something were to attack the team, she could advance quick enough to help or move to put pressure on an exposed flank. If she was attacked, she was confident that she could retreat to the main body of the team for support. She was mostly silent throughout the trip, idle chatter would make it more difficult to hear potential enemies, it would also telegraph their location to said potential enemies. Noise discipline, her brother called it. It was a convenient concept, one that let her be as quiet as she wanted.

She thought about the patrols that her brother had to do, imagining the sort of equipment they had to carry and in what formation they took. He said a squad could take a variety of formations, each one tailored to something the squad leader wanted. Maybe if her brother were in her shoes, and his friends in her teammates, they would take up a column formation. Right now her party was in some kind of... loose blob. She made a mental check of her weapons. Her brother would most definitely have his combat right, his sidearm, and a knife at the least. She only had her sword and a dagger. The fencer frowned, she should have thought of these things before setting off. Thinking that she should maybe get a crossbow.

"Hey, fuckheads! Tighten up! Tanks on the outside, squishies on the inside. Don't leave our flanks exposed, unless you like it up the ass by surprise. Got it?" One of the guys yelled. Ebon looked over seeing the group shape up a little, instead of a loose mob of people, now they were looking moderately prepared for a fight. Despite his orders for the lighter adventurers to button up behind the tanks, Ebon stayed back, continuing her role as rear security. She spun around, walking backwards for a moment, taking a closer look at the trail, trees and bushes that they had walked past. Nothing. She furrowed her brow, she always heard the others talk about being attacked while on their way to the dungeon. So why hasn't her group been attacked? She turned back around, noticing that they were in front of a large wall of rock, with an entrance made of stone, like it was carved into the rock itself. That must be the dungeon entrance. She walked up to the group, stepping next to the one she knew the best, Hawkwood.
"I thought these woods would be chock full of monsters. Is this normal?" she asked crossing her arms, looking towards the entrance.

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Eyes interlocked.

The obtuse warrior came face to face with Mirage's slender pout. His eyes could have burnt right through her fucking skull if they had been any angrier than they were at that exact moment. He screamed that she was a liar and a whore. Mia, no Mirage- could feel her body lock up. Mirage had been a tough girl, a feisty, slit tongue seductress. Mia on the other hand was a broken shell of a woman that she had once been. In that flash she thought about the way her neighbor had mentioned it had been a shame her husband had left her the way he did, "Men ain't supposed to treat ladies like that, like whores ya know. Not saying you are one Mia but that's what the people are saying. Ya didn't hear that one from me though." Mia closed her front door with a crooked smile. Why was she being punished for the actions of another person? She fell across the back of the closed front door and sobbed, feeling so alone and so betrayed by the one person in her life who she felt was her source of happiness. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." she gasped out between tears. A constant feeling of self hatred over the cowardly actions over another.

The swing.

The hit.

Mirage snapped back into the world of Pariah as Landon grabbed her around the waist and pulled her to the side. She gripped his arm in reaction but the impact of fist to flesh was enough to knock Landon right onto his back. "Graves!" came from her lips, exasperated. The thud of Landon's body was not as surprising as his almost instant recovery from the heavy fist. Mirage shuddered thinking of the damage it would have done to her bones if it had hit her instead. The two were quickly scolded for their fight but Mirage noted Landon's wink instantly. She would admit to herself that as a southern woman, a man with a little bit of charm went a long way with her. She nodded towards Landon, knowing she would have give a proper thank you after she got a little distance from the situation. He had shown that he was not someone for her to tease and play with as she had done with others in the past.

She now knew his limits.

The other man, introduced as Hawkwood also gave his small scolding but ended it with a bit of humor. That, she could take pleasure in. She scoffed slightly as his joke. Before she let herself fall back slightly. Mirage felt the need to apologize formally, as she spoke quickly. Her voice timid as she quickly spoke in a more formal tone than her usual drawl, "I greatly apologize to the group. Nothing of the sort will ever happen again. I overstepped personal bounds with Graves, and I take full responsibility for his actions. They were called for and I apologize to him with little to no expectation of forgiveness until it can be redeemed as such. I hope that he knows I meant nothing personal by my words, and that I was just teasing to lighten the mood, and even show that I had a sense of friendship forming between us." Years of customer service had paid off, she could always make it seem like things were a lot less crazy than they were. She also knew how to twist and turn things around so it seemed like she was the much more mature one even though she had purposely said that Graves had a small dick and that she had known this from a previous encounter the two had engaged in.

Both statements in which were false.

Or at least so she thought.

Mirage side stepped to Landon after apologizing to everyone. She spoke quietly for only him to hear. "Thankya' Landon. I owe ya one, or maybe even two for that stunt." She reached over and placed a delicate kiss on his cheek where Grave's fist had gotten friendly not that long ago. That would suffice for now as an apology while the tension in the group was still high, and the surroundings were still unknown to the group. Mirage went back to scouting as she made watchful eyes to all the groups possible flanks and zones of ambush. It was still eerily quiet, besides the small chatter between the group members as they all spoke about the current situation.

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Most of her time spent walking over to the dungeon was preoccupied with Teddy's revelation. If she was being honest, it made a lot of sense but to throw herself at Thael of all people? She guessed Teddy just didn't make good decisions but then again, who was she to judge. She briefly wondered if she should change her name but she was too lazy so that idea was abandoned at Thorinn's gates.

The walk over was uneventful, at best. Sky could talk with her fingernails and for a minute or two, she did but once they became a bit boring, she moved over to nagging their healer about life. Topics of conversation ranged from gender neutral fire dragons to Ellian's romantic life; both of which she seemed to dodge around. Red, of course, hadn't noticed the lack of monsters. She was sort of an on/off switch for damage and the reasoning surrounding that damage was lacking so she usually aimed at something and blew it up. When something wasn't there, she was never too concerned. This undoubtedly confused her when the meat-skull that was Graves barked at them to get into a defensive formation. Formations were for schmucks but she had no particular choice in the matter considering she was already on the inside of the group. That formation lasted for precisely forty seconds before said meat-skull that had created it destroyed it by wheeling around and aiming a punch at the Yank.

It wasn't that Sky didn't care about the situation a great deal, it was more the fact that she wasn't in the mood to flame-grill one of their only tanks and she knew that whatever happened, it would definitely end in fire of some sort. Instead of stepping in, she ducked under Graves' hulking form and hopped free of the formation, her hand holding tight to her hat so as to stop it from flying off. A few more hops and she was at the top of a slight rise in the land. It was true that there were no monsters and that got her wondering to why and to wonder that, she had to put herself in the monster's shoes. If she was a monster in hiding, what was the one thing that would disturb her? Explosions.

Lifting a small stone from the ground, she lifted it to her lips and whispered lightly into it. Pulling it away, she made a quick tugging motion as if to pull it apart. Quickly, red veins began to appear on the rock as it began to work itself apart. The veins grew bigger and hotter and with not a lot of grace, Sky chucked it up into the air before dragging her hands to her ears.

It exploded in a fiery inferno with quite a large bang. After a few seconds, Sky removed the fingers from her ears and looked around for signs of life. Seeing none, she hopped back down the hill and onto the path before setting out for the dungeon entrance, leaving the formation behind.

Starting into a small whistle, Teddy rushed to her side as she sauntered onwards. Her English accent becoming a tad more noticeable, she turned her head slightly and eyed Mirage. "Never apologise for offending a tank. If old Graves here can't take a joke about anal then do you think he's gonna fare well when the big boss tries to make him his butt slave?" The difference between her and Mia was that arrows can't pierce armour but fire very much could. She hoped meat-skull realised that too.

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The people that played MMOs were so predictable. Without fail, Graves could anticipate how certain players would react to his actions. Landon stepping in to protect Mirage was so cliche. He wanted to be her knight in shining armor, like every other pathetic little nerd like him. People like him made the blood knight sick. Fawning over every attractive woman they came across, practically throwing themselves to the ground just to get a chance to lick her boots. Everyone sided with Mirage. What a fucking surprise, the party picked the girl who started it. 'Could it be any easier for her to play you all like God damn fiddles?'

Landon went down to the punch. Even if it was painfully telegraphed and he hadn't thrown his weight behind it, the tank couldn't say it was unexpected. Squishes in Pariah all had glass jaws. Mirage called the tank's name, prompting him to grunt in response. 'She coulda dodged it. You didn't need to take the hit, moron.' He wasn't down for long, though, to give the moron a little credit. He was up on his feet and talking a million miles a minute, like an auctioneer on speed. The man had hit himself with some kind of defensive buff. Bludd hadn't expected that one; it was a strange as hell time to show off what he could do, but the way he delivered the magic via crossbow bolts was something Graves hadn't seen before. Elian berated the man for showing off, drawing some modicum of attention away from Graves' own admittedly harsh actions.

Hawkwood had tried to step in just as Landon did, but was more of a coward than Landon and ended up letting him take the punch. He was perhaps the most stereotypical example of a basement dweller playing at being a real knight in their party. He had the armor, the demeanor, the whole chivalry shtick with trying to help Mirage. The only way he could've made it worse was by throwing thees and thous into his speech. The only thing he did that was at least half decent was by addressing the woman's crass mocking instead of the blood knight's reaction to it. His attempt at humor left much to be desired. 'He sounds like a fuckin' old man trying to get 'hip with the kids.'

None of their actions pissed Graves off more than what followed. Not Landon's thirsty attempt to gain Mirage's affection by being her human shield. Not Hawkwood's cowardice, or his cringe worthy at best attempt at humor. Neither made him nearly as angry as the ranger's self righteous, totally disingenuous and frankly insulting half-assed attempt at an apology. He would've preferred a simple single word 'sorry' to her little speech about 'friendship' and 'responsibility.' Bullshit. Absolute bullshit. Graves read her body language. He saw between each carefully crafted line. He picked apart everything she said, revealing the basic truth behind her well of lies: 'I'm sorry you had the guts to call me out.'The tank's teeth ground together, his blood positively boiling. Maybe he should have really tried to hit her. She seemed like the type of girl that needed to be knocked down a peg. She bent, twisted and manipulated the part through her words, trying to make her 'joke' out to be good natured, despite the clearly antagonistic message she had sent toward Graves.

"Real heart felt. Got me right here." Graves patted his bare chest, scoffing at the ranger through three layers of sarcasm.

Elian was quick to do her thing after that. She tried to defuse the situation much like the others had. It was annoying as hell that the elf twig thought that his usual banter was anywhere near on the level of the archer's comment. Graves might be a little biased, but he liked to think his level of assholery was never as genuinely mean as what was pointed toward him. 'Unless they deserve it.' He clarified to himself. Then she moved the conversation away from the tank and back to the mission at hand. He had succeeded in making everyone dislike him, which was the plan to begin with. He doubted anyone would care to get close to him in any capacity after that over the top display. Rael joined in the discussion about how to approach the dungeon, basically marking the end of the confrontation.

Graves took the time to return back to where he left his gauntlets and halberd. He bent down, retrieving his equipment in due haste. The tank had removed his gloves to avoid causing unnecessary damage if he had actually managed to hit Mirage; a good choice, given Landon's foolish attempt at white knighting. With the metal gloves back on, he ripped the spear tip out of the dirt. The familiar weight of his weapon brought a base level of comfort to the warrior. He started back toward the dungeon, only faltering for a moment when their fire mage set off a loud bang from the high ground. 'Yeah, let's tell the whole dungeon we're coming. That's a fantastic idea, you fucking idiot.' He groaned to himself. Then her idiocy compounded upon itself, and she decided to run on ahead. Alone. As a mage. "Can you get any dumber?" Graves muttered quietly. At least the tot with the spear had the brains to chuck a rock at her. Sadly it missed, but hopefully she got the message.

The large warrior continued to move forward, sticking to the front of the group. He decided to weigh in on the discussion of strategy, even if his input was more likely to be ignored or outright mocked. "We're the first group to enter this dungeon, so information is sparse to nonexistent. We'll play it safe. We stick together and only split up when absolutely necessary. Move slow, keep up a constant line of communication and call out when you need help. Don't engage until everyone is ready to go. Elian'll need at least one person always watching her back. If we lose our healer, the raid's over." It wasn't a complicated or overly thought out plan, but simple was better when dealing with as many unknowns as they were. "And for God's sake, let me go first." Graves pointed that last bit toward the mage that tried to stir him up even more. He ignored her comment, choosing instead to stay on point now that they were approaching the danger zone.

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Alex finally woke up from his dreary state when Redsky's fire magic lit up the sky with heat and noise. He had put his brain on autopilot completely ignoring the journey to the dungeon, only reacting outwardly at Landon's surprising use of buff enchantments on crossbow bolts. However, it only grabbed his curiosity for a few seconds before he fell back into his closed off state.

The explosion on the other hand ignited his attention into full wakefulness. His mind still buzzing from the surprise explosion, he noticed that they had finally arrived at the dungeon and the idiotic mage blasting superheated flares in the sky was making her jolly way towards the undoubtedly monster infested dungeon.

"Stupid is as stupid does." Sighing at the amount of idiocy he woke up to, he listened into the plans that a few in the group were deciding on. Out of everyone here the truly intellectual ones seemed to be Rael, Graves, and Elian. They each had their own personality quirks, but they all seemed to rationalize the situation to an appropriate level. He approached the three and inserted himself abruptly into their conversation.

"I agree with Rael and Graves in this situation, Elian. We need to stick together until we have a firm grasp on the layout and general information on what dwells within. That being said, we need to be ready to split up and work independently when we enter the dungeon. As you pointed out earlier, Rael, few dungeons are linear. We need to be prepared with a plan as well as set up a few fireteams to work independent of each other in case of an emergency. It would also help assist with distributing orders as well as disseminate information between members of a group this large."

The relationship dynamics in this party were clearly hectic and difficult to control. The party layout it self was all over the place. There was no defined leadership and the only link between everyone was Elian. An 11 man party with only two healers was stretching itself thin, maybe Landon could take a role as a pseudo-healer with his buffs. Either way there were roughly four tanks, an archer, one moronic fire mage, two healers, a bard and gadgeteer as support, and lastly Alex himself could function mostly as a close range damage dealer. It was hard to define Pariah classes so simply as the directions that a single person could take with their skills were endless.

"I would choose to build two fire teams that could split up if need be, but besides that, we need to have a set leader. With out a leader, we are going to have idiots like fire crotch over there doing what ever they want. In my opinion that's your job, Elian. Your the only one that seems to know everyone here. Regardless, we need to make a quick decision. Something doesn't feel right about this situation, but I can't tell quite yet."

After speaking his mind quickly and concisely, Alex folded his arms across his chest and waited for a response. Hopefully these morons could get there act together. As for Rael, Alex decided to keep an eye on her, she seemed to be experienced and knowledgeable on dungeon raids. Between her and the volatile Graves, he already determined the two that he could 'trust' to make solid decisions in bad situations. Unfortunately they didn't seem particularly like the leading types otherwise he would have recommended them over Elian. From his experience working with her, she seemed to have difficulty in maintaining calm outwardly in situations like these. Perhaps she could prove him wrong.