---

Star had seen fae of the sort before—the types that dwelled in the deepest nights and feasted only on the fears of humans—but Lancelot was a different breed. Perhaps a type of fae, perhaps something entirely different and without the wizened knowledge that guided most of his kind, Star had no concrete guesses. He only listened as the shadow knight addressed the congregation then vanished as quickly as he had arrived.

The man renowned for the fall of Camelot. Aldebaran was far enough away from the castle to have considered the news shocking, but not threatening at the time, and from the political details he gleaned wandering the castle halls and eavesdropping on the nobles, Camelot’s fall had actually driven more refugees to Aldebaran, raising the desirability of the city at the cost of a larger outcropping of the impoverished.

But that was half a century ago.

Now the province flourished on its trading routes and ports, bolstered by a burgeoning population and spreading quickly.

All roads led to Aldebaran, the merchants would say, but the city had a life and soul of its own. Valen hadn’t been worried about leaving it in the hands of the royal scribes. They were authorized to sign on Valen’s behalf in the meanwhile anyway, and treason was the last thing on most minds—being royalty in Aldebaran was not the most desirable position, after all, since the power that ruled the trade city was the gift of business. A wealthy, well-connected merchant, under the right circumstances, held more sway than a lord.

Regardless, it all amounted to a relative autonomy. The city did not desperately need its lord to run smoothly, but Valen also could not be absent for too long. Certain matters still demanded the authority and decision of the ruler, even if the majority of people would not even realize their lord was absent. And the power-hungry head of the merchants guild would not hold his tongue for long if Valen remained missing.

The pretense of Star acting as Lord Valen served two purposes: it allowed Valen free rein as the servant to travel back and forth while directing any potential hostilities to Star. From an outsider perspective, it would seem a cruel thing to do.

From Star’s perspective, it was the right thing to do.

As Lancelot disappeared, the fae curled his fingers around Valen’s hand, bringing the gauntleted fist towards his mouth in a light, casual kiss, the act automatic and habitual. Unusual for a lord, but Star had by now drawn his legs up on the chair, canting his body to the side and resting on his elbow—the picture of lazy decadence.

“Sky, I’m tired. Go ask the attendant where our rooms are. I want to do something more…interesting,” he said, a slow slide of his tongue over his lips a hint of the fae’s future plans.

Valen stood quietly behind his lord, back straight and eyes focused ahead, perfectly mimicking the knightly posture of his court. Yet, he couldn’t help a slight frown as the room filled up, appointed knights of Lancelot flooding in. He should have expected this from the man who razed Camelot, after all. Alliance with darker forces should be a given. That, however, did not mean he would be delighted to work alongside beastmen, goblins and revenants, abominations who stank so deeply of magic he thought it had been worked into their bones.

And worse, he didn’t even know what they would be working on, since Lancelot himself didn’t offer much in ways of explanation. Mysterious to the end, apparently.

So once the smoke cleared and the servant stepped forth, Valen turned to Star, awaiting instructions. Only for the fae to kiss his hand and make another one of those suggestive gestures.

Stupid faes and their innate charms.

“At once, my lord.”- Valen nodded, stepping forward quickly to get out of Star’s reach.

“Lord Valen would like to inquire about his accommodation.” -He announced to the old servant, fighting the urge to quirk his nose at the stench of magic –“…as well as the arrangement for his mission.”

“Hurry, Sky, I’m getting antsy.”

Valen half-turned, careful so that most of the occupants in the room wouldn’t catch the withering look he sent Star -”Of course, my lord.”

Star smirked at the look and blew a kiss Valen’s way before settling skewed into his chair, head propped on the back of his left hand.

Ester watched the knight that had betrayed his king as he spoke, half listening and half examining him. As Lancelot vanished she kept her eyes on the throne for a while before averting her gaze and resting her chin between her thumb and index finger. "Lancelot is human, is he not?..." She pondered to herself out loud. His entrance looked more like the summoning of a demon than a fabled knight. "Are those rumors true?" She whispered to herself again. Lancelot had brought the great kingdom of Camelot to ruin, almost single handedly depending on who you asked. Yet he was just a normal human. She had many questions, questions she knew the old man would not answer. She let out a sigh and looked at all the others that were gathered here.

The room stunk of arrogance and madness, it was only a matter of time before one of these so called knights let their ambition get in the way of their commonsense. She stood from her seat and walked over to the large table. She picked up an empty wine glass and tapped it with a metal fork. The glass resounded from three strikes before it shattered in her hand. She looked down at the broken glass, then to the faces in the room. Well, that was somehow the first time she'd done that.

She let out a fake cough into her hand and then spoke in a clear voice. "Greetings, My name is Ester, and while we are all here there is something I wish to say. Lancelot may have been quite... Flippant on the matter, but I believe we should make a concerted effort to work together. Or at the very least not kill each other. I cannot speak for all of you, but personally I am growing rather tired of the current state of this kingdom. One way or another chaos must be reigned in and order established." She paused for a moment, glancing back towards the throne. Lancelot was the one who brought this chaos, but fighting against him did not seem like a good decision. She looked back to the others. "You do not need to acknowledge my words, I simply ask that you keep them in mind."

Phirra was late. She was not happy that she was late, but she accepted that there was nothing she could do about it. It was a long journey westwards from her homeland, and the carriage driver (generously provided by Lancelot, since for most people no amount of money could put tem within fifty miles of Camelot) had gotten them lost in the foreign land. Thankfully, once they'd reentered familiar territory, they picked up enough speed to only be slightly late. Inconvenient, but not disastrous.

After having a pair of the castle's guards bring her Ether harvester to her room, Phirra proceeded to the main entrance of the castle. As she got close, she heard a distinctive, commanding voice, muffled but still audible through the wood doors. Cursing, she ran the last ten feet or so, entering the castle in time for the second half of Lancelot's speech.

"In two days you will..."

Good. She had only missed the pleasantries. She hadn't been very interested in hearing them anyway.

Once Lancelot was finished, Phirra waited before speaking. She wanted to look at the great gathering of psychopaths for a moment, see what was in store.

Once the woman - no, vampire - named Ester was finished speaking, Phirra finally decided to speak up herself.

"You, I like you." She began, pointing at Ester. "Good plan. A distinct lack of me getting murdered would be absolutely golden. Got that, everyone?" Phirra continued, now adressing the entire room. "Listen to Ester, she has a head. Wait, you don't even know who I am, do you? How rude of me. Phirra Darnos, Artificer Extraordinaire, at your service." Phirra bowed as she said this. "Well, not really. That is, not really at your service, I am an excellent artificer, but though I'm on your side, I'm not serving you. I serve me. Come to think of it, that's also a good plan. Serving me is good, not killing me is also good."

And with that, Phirra pulled up a chair and sat down.

Grolik had no intention of staying in this fancy castle. Not that he minded the finer things in life, such as the barrel of wine one of the orcs was carrying, or the several pounds of meat and cheese he had just eaten, likely to the disgust of the others seated around him. No, the castle didnt feel safe to him. Something was comforting when he was surrounded by several thousand of his kin, and he was sure lancelot would not want a small horde making a mess of his fancy halls. So, He instructed one of his Orcs to let this 'companion' know that Grolik was going to stay at his fort that was being constructed a couple miles away.

He eyed each of the other knights. They where intresting... creatures, but he had no interest in them. He was a mighty warlord in his own right, he did not need their help to pillage and burn whatever lands he liked. Once his lands where secure no one nation could stand in his path for long. His tanks took shape faster than they exploded, his zeppelins where nearly unchallenged in the skies. no, city had halted his expansion. he hated being reduced to some dog at Lancelot's beck and call. It would not matter long, he was sure.

Lancelot was an alliance of convenience. He would help the goblin nation grow and become rich, and satisfy their warmongering for a time. But The goblins would inherit this world from man. The shamans told him so. Once the whole of the world was in ruin the goblins would rise and take it. Lancelot would fall, the dragons would fall. Goblins would be the rulers of the world. Grolik was certain of it. and he would be the high king of the goblins for all time, because if he was going to build this world he would be the Immortal king of it.

He left the feast without ceremony and took his great spider back to his fort that was growing quickly. Several thousand goblins felling trees and building a stout wooden fort was a smiple task for simple creatures.

Deciding that it was best not to give their reaper friend any indication that she and her soulmate of sorts were entirely prepared to make a hasty exit, Liv decided it was best to continue at least trying to eat. That was the plan, at least, until Lancelot showed himself. His speech was...predictable to a degree, which was enough to make the Surt raise her brow slightly in a combination of underwhelming interest and some faint surprise.

'Well he certainly seems the charmer. Really feeling that personal touch here, I gotta say.'

'How very politic,' Liv claimed. Much more than she had expected someone trying to take a title of Dark Lord to be, but she supposed that it was a show of strength to be able to command anyone without a show of strength. She would have continued eating after the speech had concluded if not for the being that showed up after Lancelot made his exit.

Turquoise eyes fell on the man, something about him making her hair rise, her desire for nutrition whetted by an entirely different desire. He was strong in an understated way, and it triggered a primal want in Liv's bones, starting deep and rooting itself with greedy tendrils like an ancient tree. So engulfing was the need that Liv didn't notice when her breath became silent, her eyes locked on the way they did before she decided on prey.

'I'd advise against it.'

No, said the rational part of the draconic girl. There were plenty of reasons not to act, the fact that some feral instinct told her that she'd be completely crushed in combat the least of them. A moment passed, and Liv took a deep, slow breath, this one audible compared to the last.

Fine. She could eat in the traditional matter.

'At least w--yerkgh?!'

Something was touching, no, grabbing her to tail. Her body jerked up, her fist clenching with her fork still in it. Liv's monstrous strength kicked in without her active efforts to reduce it, the silverware first warping sharply before it snapped, the tip flipping forward with the force and landing somewhere halfway across the table before the girl slowly, carefully turned her head to the offending presence.

"What are you doing?" The words came stilted, as stiff as her body had become.

'Who cares what she's doing!? She grabbed our ass! Punt the little molester!'

Camilla was starting to breathe more heavily, a slight flush on her face as she felt the tail, the scales upon it. It was real. It was undoubtedly what she would call a dragon's tail, pushing away the thought that the girl might be some lizard hybrid instead.

'STRANGER DANGER'

"Apologies. I can't help-" but think you'd be great for experimentation "-I can't help but notice your unusual tail. Do you perhaps, have dragon blood in you?"

'Liv, I'm gonna be completely blunt here; but you should back up before you get us either bound to a wall or worn as a coat. Or both. In quick succession.'

It was all she could do to keep herself calm, to keep herself from just hoisting up the girl onto her shoulders and spiriting her away where Camilla could examine everything to her leisure. As it was, she didn't relinquish her hold on the tail. Indeed, her hold tightened slightly, as if unwilling to let go of such a speciment.

There were about five different levels of creepy and maybe seven different Vitus alarms going off in Liv's head as she slowly set down the remains of her fork, taking a few breaths to keep the usual Surt reaction of trying to rip off an offending limb in check. Anger and fear usually battled each other for control, after all, and with Liv, the former usually won out. Her self-control had been better, she supposed, since the intrusion of Vitus in her life, but that didn't mean the half dragon was always successful in keeping herself in check.

'As much as I'd love to start this fight, I assume that old...thing up there doesn't want a brawl so soon.' Not that the abnormally calm tone suggested anything about wanting to control herself. Instead, Liv gave a tense smile, wondered briefly if she could jerk her tail free, and tried to set her gaze on the stranger.

'I certainly think we could explain it to him, at least. Even a Dark Lord has to have some sexual harrassment policies in place.'

"Sharp eye. My father's a Zmey," Liv started with careful, even words. The grip on her tail was...unrelenting, and part of Liv felt a rise of apprehension. Maybe this curious stranger intended on ripping it off entirely? But Liv beat down the unwelcome emotion with another, her tail tensing, ready to lash out in tandem with the warrior's uncanny strength. "That said, I would suggest letting go."

"Ah, I'm sorry," Camilla spoke cheerfully, though her hands remained on the tail. Instead she moved closer to the half dragon, almost pressing against Liv's back. "So youre part Zmey huh? I'm Camilla. I'm supposed to be the healer and the mechanic for our little group."

"I'm Liv. I'm mostly here to fight whatever needs fighting." The words came out before Liv could stop them, the compulsive need to make the introductory trade stronger than the protests that she knew were sounding off from both sides of the division.

'Liiiiiv. She's sizing us up. She needs to know how big the coatrack is gonna be...' came Vitus's unsure voice, whispering as though he was afraid the woman would hear him.

Having located a loose scale near where her hands were gripping, she plucked it out immediately, without even a second though to how the owner of the scale would feel. An actual loose scale! From an actual person with Zmey blood! If she hadn't already modified her body, she felt as if she would have passed out from a heart attack induced by sheer excitement. "I'll just keep that for later examinations. Speaking of exper-examinations, can I examine you? I w.. I need to analyze your normal state to be able to properly heal you."

'GAH!' Vitus cried, the shared sensation of scale being plucked from tail arcing through their body.

'DO IT! Do it now! Punt! All star leg; use it!'

Between the sudden feeling of someone quite literally pulling a scale off her tail--damn it, she didn't have that many left!--and the mental shout that was Vitus's reaction, Liv felt herself jump, her grimace torn between trying to react to both stimuli at the same time. A sharp exhalation, a sound of discomfort, and a sudden and fully expected flash of white hot rage that blinded the draconic being for a moment. The feral outrage overwhelmed everything else trying to keep its ground, completely consuming the mental processes from Liv's end for an instant.

Long enough for her to instinctively grab for the nearest utensil, too long for her to properly gauge her strength. A spoon snapped in her grip, her nails digging into the metal as Liv jumped, her footing evening itself out on muscle memory more than any actual thought before the haze lifted, allowing an attempt at reasonable, rational thought try to peer through.

'See if you can send her out the window!'

Nope. No good.

She tried to gently place the remains of one spoon back onto the table. What resulted was her hand slamming into it with enough force to shake the surface, the sound enough to sharply jerk Liv's anger back into line. Almost. Taking an even breath to make some pitiful attempt to calm herself, the girl gave a stilted smile that reeked more of predation than any other emotion.

'It'll grow back,' said the part of Liv that was trying to be rational about it. 'Or you can grow it back.'

'Right there! Right out the stained glass!'

The part that spoke through grit teeth was not the rational part. In fact, what escaped was little more than a low snarl from the back of Liv's throat as she tried, to no avail, to control herself...but there was no fear and little help from Vitus to at least try and keep the battlemage in check. The tail whipped out, the muscles moving with comfort and ease. It would be so easy, so simple and neat to crush the bones in--

Don't.

As if in response to the sudden mental demand, Liv calmed herself just as her tail coiled, wrapping around Camilla's neck as the anger faded back into the attempt at calm. "Don't. Do that." The grip tightened faintly, and Liv felt her self-restraint trying to give in and crush. She didn't allow it.

'Booooring.'

The tail was almost crushing Camilla's windpipe, and even with Liv trying to hold back, the sheer strength of her tail was readily apparent.

Instead of the usual horrified response of any human however, Camilla had a look of extreme bliss. This was more than she could ever hope for; a demonstration of strength, and proof that her instinct wasn't wrong. A proper examination of Liv would give her more than she had ever achieved before.

Seeing as the half dragon was occupied with wrapping her tail around Camilla's neck, Camilla simply put a hand on the tail, pushing through the scale and flesh with ease. Without warning all of Camilla's feeling exploded at the same time, just as her hand touched the bone and hence the bundle of nerve inside, connecting their body accidentally.

"Nngh... mgh..."

Her knees went weak suddenly, unable to support her weight as all her emotions finally started to subside.

'What in the w--WHAT THE?!'

'GAH!' Vitus repeated.

The first half of the thought was cut short when Camilla's hand was suddenly in her tail. Not on it, not around it, there was a hand inside her tail. Some distant thought told Liv that she should be in about twelve different forms of agony, but the immediate and obscene mental screaming at the sight was apparently a byproduct of shock. It must have been because Liv found herself in a state of frozen, mildly numb shock.

'Okay, what exa--hrkngmh?!'

Something that sounded like a pathetic mix between a yelp and a cry tore from Liv's throat as a splended display of colors began to burst in her vision, her entire body recoiling as though it had been shocked, the tail freezing, tensing, shuddering at an overwhelming tide of sensation. A tingling that fired from the point of contact all the way up and through the half dragon, her slight frame unsteady. It wasn't something that Liv was familiar with, and she wasn't entirely certain if it was blinding, agonizing pain or simply so much sensation that she physically couldn't keep up. Worse yet, the girl had no idea how to react.

"Th-the fuck was that?!" A surge of disdain at her own shaky voice as Liv willed her tail to loosen its grip. Or...tighten it?

Vitus, meanwhile, had been mercifully silent - the lack of vocal cords in his current state prevented him from making the same pitiful noises that Liv had. Although his voice did come out slightly shaky, just as hers did; a byproduct of her...intense emotion.

'A-alright. Well. That's...that's a new one.' his voice was slightly embarrassed, as Liv could no doubt tell from his own emotional influence within her noggin. 'You...you should probably give her a second. She might need to...erm...catch her breath.'.

Perhaps they were unable to notice it due to the surge of emotions, but Camilla's neck snapped with the sound of a dry twig as the tail tightened around it. Perhaps too tight, for her head fell off her shoulders.

'Did her head just--'

'I said GIVE HER A SECOND! You've decapitated the poor girl! In the midst of recuperating, too!'

'I'm TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHAT JUST HAPPENED, YOU ASS.'

The headless body moved its free hand quickly, catching the head still wearing that satisfied smug look. With the other still inside the half dragon's tail, the hand moved effortlessly through Liv's flesh, stopping just short of where the tail met her rear. Once again, there was no sign of a mark or anything else to show Camilla's wanton invasion of someone's body as she pulled her hand out.

'GEH! Zombie! Bad-touch zombie!'

'Someone had their HAND IN US and you're worried about a zombie?!! THE THING WE ARE?'

'Oh. Right.'

"That was an interesting experience. I have all I need to be able to reconstru- to heal your body.," came Camilla's voice from her severed head. "Perhaps you might visit me for a more thorough examination later."

Awkwardly, Liv lowered her tail, her mind still reeling with the sequence of events, turquoise eyes flicking briefly to where the hand had been, finding no mark, and raising a complex mixture of emotions that Liv wasn't entirely certain how to process. Anger at having something delve into her flesh, or maybe it was fear? Or...confusion? That was one too many things to be feeling for the Surt.

'FUCK no!'

"Uh." Pausing to regain her thoughts, Liv furrowed her brow slightly. Exactly how was she supposed to respond to that? The Surt's gaze trailed from the body to the head, then back to the body as though uncertain where to direct attention. "So the more rational voice in my head is saying 'no', but I'm uh...sure my arm will fall off at some point and you can fix it then."

'What the hell am I here for, then?'

'Still looking for an answer on that.'

"You can count on me,"Camilla gave a wide grin. "Your dead body will always needs maintenance now and then after all."

'Well that little mystery didn't last very long. Girl can't keep any secrets around these parts, can she?...We?...Us?' Vitus commented, the last part degrading into slightly confused mumbling.

It was easy enough for her to see Liv's body was dead; the heart wasn't beating anymore after all. What intrigued her most was how the half dragon still managed to keep her body for so long without it or her degenerating into something less than whole. But, her time for such pursuits were almost at an end; the goblin person had already departed, and she too must go, and set up a working lab here. And there was still that scale she pulled off Liv.

---

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I don't belong here.

It was a thought that had been creeping into Emerson's head more and more often as she made her way across the countryside of Lancelot's domain. As someone who had grown up on the other side of the border, he'd always had an outsider's view of the evil domain. Sure, whispers and rumors spoke of what lurked in the shadows of this land, but it was somehow... distant. Now though The Prodigy caught glimpses of evil shapes across the landscape, hiding in the crags of mountains, scurrying through the trees. Still, none bothered him during her journey, almost as if Lancelot had demanded personally that she reached her destination unharmed.

Whatever the case was, it made for an uneasy trip. For the majority of it Emerson tried to float at a running pace, spending her time both taking in the sights of her new home, and imbuing the outfit he had chosen as her uniform (If indeed Lancelot himself chose not to provide one, which would be disappointing) with some minor magic. A slow process, having to go through every single thread and enchant them individually, but one that the mage had two whole days to spend it on.

When the uniform was finished though Emerson realized she was taking far too much time with the adventure, and that Moonlake Keep was a much greater distance from the border than he had first realized. For the last half a day, once every hour, the countryside echoed faintly with a cry of “Seeya Joe, gotta go!” as the Prodigy zipped for miles across the landscape at a time. The final one had brought Emerson through the room's giant window, unnoticed as Lancelot commanded the attention of all gathered.

He lay collapsed against the wall, struggling not to pass out from exhaustion as their new leader introduced himself- the mage having not missed much of the meeting at all. Still, while Lancelot commanded an impressive presence, The Prodigy couldn't help but look across the room from his vantage point and look over his new peers.

I don't belong here.

Emerson felt more like a sheep among wolves than one of the most powerful mages currently living. Some of those present were quite clearly monsters, and others certainly gave off the presence of being such under their armor and clothing. She was not completely foreign to the concept of course, being one dedicated to the magical arts, but personal experience with anything other than Humans was something he distinctly lacked.

These are my peers now.

It was that thought which settled the mental debate over Emerson's current situation. They were his peers, and that meant Lancelot considered him to at least be equal to them. With strength slowly returning to her limbs she quietly listened to their leader finish speaking, and at his departure struggled to stand.

She didn't quite manage it.

With a small sigh Emerson contented to watching his fellow knights for a few minutes more. The initial horror she had felt was slowly giving way to curiosity as she observed them, and was especially piqued by the half-dragon and Camilla. There was certainly magic at work there, and not the kind Emerson had much knowledge with. Other than the spell he had prepared especially for Aurelius, The Prodigy shied away from magics directly affecting the body. The experimentation process was simply too messy, and unreliable without test subjects. While he was sure that many of his peers in this room wouldn't have any qualms about experimenting on living things, torture was not something that appealed to Emerson.

Pushing those grim thoughts out of her head, she tried to stand once more- with far more success. Wishing that he had decided to wear the uniform that had been prepared on the road- instead being garbed in a simple shirt and pants that was common fashion among the middle classes of Nell Egg- and that she had chosen a more dignified color than pink for her hair that morning, Emerson finally made her way down the stairs and to the table in the center of the room. Acting as casually as possible she put together a light meal to quell the appetite she had worked up on the road, and battled an urge to socialize with a desire to be ignored entirely by the monsters around him.

Making his way to the castle, Duncan could well have gotten there on time if he'd sprinted. But for one thing, the whole endeavour wasn't much more than seeking sanctuary on his part, and for another... Well, in a place like this, sprinting along as a horse didn't make you much more than target practice. Moving along with some sort of steady purpose at least made him look like he was somewhat important, and the sheer strangeness of a seemingly normal animal unbothered by the dark magic that purveyed the area was novelty enough for him to pass unmolested.

That being said, while it had saved him a spear through the gut, it had also made him painfully late to arrive at the bridge. His main concern was that his lateness would somehow irritate Lancelot, lords often being a little touchy about anything they deemed disrespectful. Duncan was keenly aware that he was not the most powerful creature, and the idea of being swatted like a fly was even less appealing than returning to his village and facing an army of godly men brandishing gleaming weapons and holy water. The idea of them blessing his river in the name of their god was enough to make the kelpie's skin crawl.

In all honesty, he was rather grateful to Lancelot. The chaos such a man caused drove people to travel and flee from it, and those who took refuge in the town were a steady food source. Before that, he'd had to resort to eating deer once or twice. It was disgusting. Barbaric. Humans were just so much more tender, as far as he was concerned. Satisfying. Not quite satisfying enough for him to want any part in this war, though. Snapping out of his thoughts, he found himself trotting up to the entrance.

As the doors stood shut in front of him, Duncan winced at what was to come. While it made sense to assume a human form, considering he was dealing with people, the concept was always a little uncomfortable to him. Perhaps because the only humans he'd ever met seemed to fawn over him to a slightly pathetic degree, he wasn't quite sure how to deal with ones who were meant to be on an equal footing, never mind more powerful.

So it was with a sense of slight discomfort that Duncan, now a man, walked into the room as Lancelot's speech concluded. And it couldn't have been more obvious that he was anything but a noble, considering he didn't seem to understand the concepts of say, 'closing his shirt', or 'wearing shoes'. Only adding to that impression was the fact that it looked very much as though he'd decided to swim across the lake rather than taking the bridge, seemingly soaked to the bone.

Some of them already appeared to be discouraging violence between the attendees, which, though he agreed with the sentiment, left him more than a little concerned as to what exactly the speech had been about. Deciding it would be best not to draw too much attention to himself, he quietly made his way over to the table. None of the food looked particularly appetising to him, but he filled his plate nonetheless.

Finally taking the time to look around the grand hall, it was clear that the man was more than a little confused. He briefly entertained the thought of speaking up, but it came out as a slight whinny - quickly covered up by a coughing fit. He wasn't quite used to talking in this form yet, and as spirits went he wasn't particularly old or experienced. While he was almost certain that it wouldn't happen again, he decided against making any announcements for the time being. Better that he composed himself and stuck with normal conversation. With any luck, he wouldn't have caught anyone's attention, and could go about figuring things out without being accosted by any of the more frightening and bizarre guests.

To say the evening went as expected would be a lie on Evelyn's part. Upon arrival she had expected to find a usurper sitting atop the throne of Camelot surrounded by military tacticians, treasurers, and perhaps a mage or two. Instead she found herself in the company of various oddities and abominations, some among them being nothing more than base creatures she would cut down had they not been a part of this fellowship. As of the moment, Alysse appeared to be the only one here of worth to The Veiled Mother. However, their crusade had only just begun and she was sure more potential allies would reveal themselves...as well as new threats. To her surprise, the voice of reason revealed itself among them. While she did agree with Ester that cooperation was to everyone's benefit, she did not share her sympathy towards the state of the realm. In truth, Evelyn cared very little about Camelot for it was not her home but rather outlander territory. In an ideal world she would prefer this land to remain in disarray, never to pose threat to Tyrvald. Unfortunately, in order to reclaim her throne her assistance in bringing order to this land was necessary. "Bartuc, could you please find our rooms for us?", with her gentle tone masking her true nature she then turned back towards her newfound friend. "I believe it is time for me to take to my chambers. It has been a pleasure, Alysse, should you happen to pass by my chambers, I implore you to pay a visit. There is much more I wish to discuss with you in confidence", without another word The Veiled Mother left the company of the hall with Bartuc, a low almost silent whispering becoming ever more faint as their presence exited the room.

Through the halls of her new home, Evelyn was plagued by the echoes of the restless souls tethered to this place. Vestiges of the damned calling out to a world no longer their own. 'If only you'd been born Tyrvaldi, perhaps your lives would still be your own', her somber thoughts leading her mind towards times she'd rather forget. Bartuc had entered the room first, searching for signs of intrusion before allowing his master to enter with a nod of approval. Evelyn's eyes slowly went across the room, not in search of danger but rather to simply take in what would be her home for the foreseeable future. "I can imagine we've much to look forward to come morning. Hopefully our lord provides further guidance in the coming days. For now rest well, my friend, much work lies ahead of us", Evelyn waited till Bartuc left before removing her veil. It wasn't that she felt uncomfortable around him, in truth it was quite the opposite. Something about removing her veil felt as if it required some level of privacy. With the veil removed, her true self was revealed. Her steely grey eyes appearing calm yet focused as she made her way behind the folding screen. Once out of her formal wear her long brown hair fell just a short way past her shoulders. Her fair skin marked with infrequent scars along the length of her body told the story of the warrior queen.

Her room was comprised of a small lounge at the entrance, a luxurious bedroom beyond it, and bathroom of equal quality to the bedroom. The last time she had spent a night in a room like this was prior to her leaving Tyrvald to prepare to inherit the throne. Once again her mind traveled back to times to painful to remember. Stepping into the bath she relaxed her body within the warm water, hoping to ease her mind and focus attention towards preparations for the future. She would follow the orders of Lancelot, despite being a foreign king he was the servant of her Lord whether he knew it or not. As for the others...time would tell where their loyalties lay. He came without warning, a sudden voice whose arrival Evelyn was more than familiar with.

When Lancelot appeared before the group, Val'vath was unsure what to make of him. True, he was as tall as the lycan and hide his form in a set of black armor but he was still a fleshy human underneath. Perhaps he had augmented himself with the black magic he wielded? That was likely.The lycan shrugged to himself, it was the will of the Gods that he serve Lancelot so he would do just that, no matter what Lancelot was.

When Lancelot vanished in bright flash he turned back to the feast and debated silently whether to continue. After several moments the lycan shakily got to his feet to follow the others that had already departed to their rooms. However, shortly before leaving the hall he realized he would be wandering the castle for hours if he attempted to find his room without assistance. Well, he had a simple spell for that. A small spark of purple energy sputtered to life as he made a swipe in the air before him with his clawed hand, as his hand moved it left behind a trail of black which quickly expanded into a small sphere hovering in the air. The sphere of darkness shuddered for a moment before three formless shadows fell from it, landing onto the floor silently; after several seconds the sphere faded and the shadows solidified into small,humanoid creatures with skin as black as night and eyes tha seemed to shift between a glowing red and purple. The voidcaller looked down at the creatures and directed an order to them "Find my chambers,they will be in this castle. They will not be difficult to distinguish from the others" these creatures were linked to him mentally while they remained in the mortal realm so they knew exactly what Val'vath imagined his chambers to be.
After several moments of observing his new allies, the lycan noticed one of the late arrivals ; a human that seemed to be having difficulty remaining upright. He chuckled at it Lancelot believes I am equal to that? I am the Gods voice! Ridiculous . After several more minutes one of his servants returned and pulled at his robes, gesturing for him to follow. Making his way down the corridors of the castle he eventually found his chambers. Honestly, it was nearby and he likely would have found it quickly if he had attempted to track it down himself. With a brief wave of his hand the void creatures erupted into dark mist which quickly faded.

When Val'vath entered through the door, he found it to his liking. A simple hallway led into a fairly large room containing a fur matt, a rather comfortable looking armchair directly opposite a fire place and a bed covered in a variety of furs. There was also a second room left of the hallway which seemed to be entirely devoted to a toilet and bath. Disregarding the chair, Val'vath knelled on the matt and closed his eyes before muttering prayers to the Banished Gods as he attempted to strengthen his connection to them in this new land; untouched by the Banished Gods influence in any significant way for centuries if not ever. He spent the rest of the night in this way until their whispers were present in his mind again.

When Lancelot appeared and everyone settled to listen to the would-be future Dark Lord of this land, Par’Sath did the same as his suit of armor settled quietly and still next to one of the hall’s stained glass windows , the eerie glow of the moonlit night casting a strange shadow on the ground beneath his feet. The Apostle would listen to the dark being with keen attention, having been drawn to this place by his power certainly gave the Reaper more reason to listen to the speaker, announcing boldly his plan to conquer his enemies and establish himself as the next ruler.

But those weren’t news to the metal-clad spirit. He had seen the destruction of Camelot with his own figurative sight. It was to make a statement. A claim and a promise that further acts will be brought down on those who do not bow down to his might. And the Apostle had no difficulty imagining that Lancelot would be true to his words. No, the Apostle was here for hearing the darkness-shrouded man’s plans about his upcoming rise to power; the details of why he needed such a diversified army of misfits.

Alas, not much had been explained. Only the promise of an operation that would be held in two days. It was quite a lot of time, to make warlords and impatient beings lusting for blood wait. Still, the power that Lancelot exuded was surely enough to convince that elite of his to wait for the day. As for the Reaper, he had an eternity ahead of him. Such trivial thing as waiting did not faze him.

Gazing upon the scene as the Dark Lord left behind a cloud of smoke in his sudden departure, Eth’Erax noticed a few of his would-be colleagues already leaving for their accommodations. A few new additions recently joined, slightly before Lancelot had finished his speak.

A mortal soul, harnessing a power that was beyond grasp of most mortals.
A spirit, just like the Apostle himself, however attuned to the realm of Water.

Acknowledging the newest arrivals, the Deathless One glanced about the room, waiting for whatever petty squabbles between the mortals to be done with, before his gaze returned to the great door that led to the entrance.

“Should you require assistance, speak ‘Apostle’, so that this Guide be of use.” The deep whispers echoed throughout dining hall as if hundreds of spirits spoke in unison.

Stepping with silent ghostly steps to the exit, Par’Sath left the hall to return to the courtyard. In the middle of the desolated garden, the Reaper stopped, his armor becoming stiff and still. The spirit of the Damned Guide left his metallic shell, becoming one with the Spirit Realm once more.

It would have seemed this group of Knights brought with them their sins, unfelt burdens of their past deeds, as the vengeful spirits of the dead screamed retribution for what had been done to them. Peace that they never acquired, tormented by pain for their unjust deaths. The amount of souls gathered unto this unholy keep, previously untainted by the presence of erring ghosts, was once more tipping the scales of Death.

Truly, what a scary thing magic was, to rip the souls off mortal coils and deny them access to the Great Beyond. It would seem like this Fated Guide would have much to do this night…

"Sir Valen your room is located on the top of the east tower, 10th room, taking the right hallway to it's end should take you to the staircase. As for the mission, I do not know of what silly details Lancelot has for you vile creatures, all I know is that if all things go well for him you lot will be sent to siege some necromancer's fortress."

The disguised monster then held up what appeared to be some sort of scroll. "For the rest of your rooms...Par'Sath, you were not given room due to your nature, but you are permitted to drift around wherever within the castle as you please so long as you adhere to the privacy of your peers.
Nraz'gagr, you are located on the first room on the West wing Tower, you will find that the door has been adjusted for your height.
Camilla you are located within.." Bolladreq squinted his eyes at the scroll. "You have been given a space in the basement to build your laboratory..You best avoid disturbing me with excessive noise and hijinx filthy creature." He muttered the last part of his sentence as he had gritted his teeth a bit.
"Isinu, second room on East Tower."
Alysse, fourth room on East Tower"
"Denuubim, second room West Tower."
"Grolik, top floor West Tower."
"Val'vath, third room West Tower."
"Ester, fifth room West Tower."
"Evelyn and Bartuc, third room East Tower."
"Liv and Vitus, fifth room East Tower."
"Jakorion, seventh room West Tower."
"Phirra, eighth room East Tower."
"Emerson, ninth room East Tower."
"Duncan, sixth room West Tower."
"Enzoyo, eigth room West Tower."
"I do not know any of your names nor do I care if any of you are here or not, if there are any whelps that weren't present for this meeting you may direct them to my lair, located behind the big gated doors in the basement. I stress that you filth keep your antics from me, as I have little patience."
The old and weathered figure blew out the lantern he held in his left hand. "You are all dismissed!"

---

A note rested on Grolik's door stating the following "Sir Lancelot himself requests two zeppelins to be ready prior to the mission in two days, expect to board all fellow Knights onto the airships."

Camilla

---

There were more people she wanted to examine, but she needed to get busy and set up her lab.

That old coot at the head of the table finally announced where they were going to stay, where her lab was going to be. Underground, in a basement where she could have all the room she need. And all the privacy she could ever need.

Scooping up the the head she left on the table, Camilla attached the girl's head to her body, leaving the dumbfounded girl to stare awkwardly at her new body. Turning to the others still there, she spoke with Camilla's voice, looking utterly terrified she could not control her own mouth.

"Ah, thats right. I'm Camilla. Visit me when you have a chance. As the only one who can mend flesh here, it would be beneficial for you if I examined you at your normal state."

Still cradling her own head, Camilla grinned as she bowed before leaving the hall.



Moving the last box of tools into the room, she sat back and sighed.

The room was spacious but empty, lacking any sort of furniture or objects save for the boxes of tools, odds and ends for her machines, and the village girl, now attached to the wall. Though, perhaps growing on the wall was more apt. Having had her fun with the girl, Camilla simply attached her to the wall, as if applying a layer of mud to a hut. If the hut was the basement and the girl was the mud that was. As it was now, Camilla had simply left her torso and head intact, and spread the rest on the wall, where it would no doubt grow and spread in time to the rest of her workplace's surface. The torso and head was also high enough to be considered decoration, which was definitely a plus for her. Would a wooden plaque around it enhance that illusion more?

Growing living flesh like this alleviated her need for material somewhat, though the village girl certainly didn't agree with her method. Indeed she had screamed and struggled to no avail, especially considering the only part she could move was her torso and head. At least Camilla managed to find out her name just before she fell asleep from fatigue and shock.

"Matilda..."

If Camilla manipulated her just right, Matilda could perhaps be very very useful to her. If she wasn't, Camilla could always cut her out and kidnap someone else more malleable.

Sighing again, she sat down underneath Matilda's sleeping figure, before nodding off to sleep herself.

---

---

Well. Things had been… eventful since Phirra’s arrival, certainly. A goblin and his entourage making her entrance look boring, something happening between the girl and the half-dragon, and now a young man… woman… person had just teleported in and collapsed on the floor. At least it wasn’t boring, she supposed.

Of all the Knights, it seemed only herself and three others were human. Of those, one was a giant who never left the side of another. Phirra wasn’t going anywhere near either of them any time soon, not unless she had to. That only left one. Following that train of thought, it wasn’t a difficult decision to approach them and strike up a conversation.

“Our Mighty Lord has assembled quite the collection, hasn’t he?” She asked them, using the title ironically, though in fact she was more than slightly afraid of him. Without waiting for an answer, she continued, saying “I think you missed my introduction, I’m Phirra Darnos, and probably the single least likely person to kill you in this room.”

You mean aside from me, right?

Emerson would have voiced the thought out loud if able to, instead what came out was a strangled cough as the startled mage's meal tried to force itself down his windpipe. For a moment she struggled for air, some rare colour entering his face from the strain, before rational thought reminded him that she was indeed a wizard, and magic soon forced the obstruction down its proper path. With embarrassment and unease fighting each other for dominance, The Prodigy offered an awkward laugh as he sized up Phirra.

“Ajeshna?”

It was the first thought that came to Emerson upon looking at the dark skinned woman, although it was perhaps a foolish assumption. Still, if true it was a big comfort knowing that someone else from a foreign land was among the Knights, even though Emerson herself had lived right on the border. Truthfully, the mage had met extremely few people from the faraway land, but Aurelius had often spoken of many acquaintances he'd made among their artificers. The world of magical research was a strangely close knit one.

Having at least enough social grace to realize studying the woman so closely was probably rude, Emerson put down the fork she was holding and extended a hand.

“E-Emerson Pèlerin. How likely is least likely though? I don't think L-Lancelot is gathering a bunch of pacifists.”

Quietly the mage cursed the tremor in his voice, but it couldn't be helped. She was still recovering from the choking incident, still frightened, and most importantly still exhausted. There would be future days to work on his solid “Knight of Evil” reputation.

Phirra shook the offered hand, saying “Least likely, for me, is about 100% if you attempt to do the same to me, 100% if you attempt to do so towards another Knight, whether successful or otherwise, though if I would kill them, I’m probably also okay with you killing them.” Phirra took a seat next to Emerson as she spoke. “Outside of those situations, it’s a solid 0%. And yes, I am from Ajeshna, though it was a different country when it was my home.”

Emerson was definitely an interesting character to Phirra. Stuttering was not, in her experience, an effective way to convey capability, especially when surrounded by nearly two dozen of the most dangerous people alive. However, Emerson had been invited here, by Lancelot. Obviously they had some kind of use to him that not just anyone has. Useful enough to be worth going out of his way to contact and cater for them. More interesting, though, was the fact that Emerson had accepted the invite. Every creature that had attended had their own motive, few of them noble, yet Emerson did not strike Phirra as the villainous type.

There are many ways to learn something, and the easiest is to ask questions. As such, Phirra asked a question.

“So why accept Lancelot’s invitation? I don’t think a single person in this room is here just to be part of the fan club.”

The directness of the woman caught him off guard, and Emerson quickly shoved some food into his mouth to buy some time to think. It wasn't exactly a situation that could be summed up easily, the invitation wasn't even initially meant for her, and she was sure Aurelius would have felt much more at home with these people than his pupil did. Still, would the truth even be worth telling? In any other circle professing to being a murderer wasn't exactly something one could do casually, but Phirra had already thrown around the possibility of killing like it was no big deal at all to discuss. Mulling it over a moment longer after swallowing, the mage tried to explain the situation as simply as possible.

“I killed the person that the i-invitation was meant for. If I didn't become Lancelot's friend I would be his enemy right now. Accepting... accepting seemed like it was the better long term strategy.”

You could almost hear the click that went off in Phirra’s head at that moment, like when you finally realize the answer to a particularly tough puzzle, and suddenly the whole thing seems easy. It completely explained Emerson’s apparent lack of self-confidence - someone forced into this kind of situation was bound to react differently to someone with the security available to refuse if they wanted. In fact, it seemed likely that there were others out there who had also received invitations but had declined.

“You’re probably right about that. I can’t see many places holding out against Lancelot for long, and though I don’t know him very well, these kind of leaders can be very black and white when it comes to who’s on whose side. Still, it isn’t especially safe here, either. But, like I said, as long as you don’t cause me or anyone else any trouble, you have nothing to fear from me.”

Phirra decided it was about time to head to her quarters. She stood up, saying “Well, I guess I’ll see around, Emerson. I quite like you, so don’t die for the time being, if that’s okay with you.” And with that odd comment, Phirra left for her room.

It was nice enough, certainly. Obviously an effort had been made (though more likely by a servant than by anyone of importance), but it wasn’t to Phirra’s tastes. Apparently, though, Lancelot was aware of her… abnormal requirements and made sure to include a balcony. She moved her Ether Harvester, which been left in her room as requested, onto the balcony, set it running, then went to sleep.

For Emerson’s part, she quietly finished eating after the artificer had left, embarrassment and unease both replaced by a pleasant tingling spreading across his body. Phirra… liked her? The notion of course carried no romantic context, but the mage had never heard another person enjoy her company during his brief childhood on the streets. And the sort of enjoyment Aurelius derived from her company made her skin crawl rather than tingle.

Maybe… maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

The Prodigy was of course exhausted, but this new interaction had awoken a desire to at least try to get to know some of his new peers. The least frightening ones at least. While he was confident in his ability to defend himself, Phirra was right in that being here was dangerous, especially for a normal and quite fragile human. So quietly, not trying to stare too intently, he swept his eyes cross her remaining peers, and caught a certain soaking wet man quietly making his way from the room. Looks could be deceiving, but he at least didn’t seem too bad, even if he wasn’t as outright welcoming as Phirra had been.

Set on her course, and confident he still had the energy to make an escape if this turned out to be a horribly misplaced judgement, Emerson quietly set after the soaked individual. As quietly as an urchin slipping after a mark.

@TheDarkTemplar

Camilla, Star and Valen
Collab with @RedDusk&@January

---

Another deep frown threatened to mar Valen’s expression, and it took a considerate amount of willpower to keep his face blank. The servant was beyond rude and abrasive, despite the fact that Valen had already lower his expectation immensely after the tense welcome on the bridge. Then again, Lancelot was aledgedly a traitor, and he employed beastmen and goblins in his service. Of course, he shouldn’t have expected class and courtesy from such a man.

Or whatever he had become.

Valen simply adjusted the collar of his vest once more before stepping back. He got the information he needed at least. Walking back to Star’s side, he then leaned down and spoke low to the fae.

“Allow me to escort you to your chamber, my lord.”

"Mm, I'll allow anything if you're the one offering, Sky," the "lord" replied, snatching the opportunity to give Valen's cheek a kiss before the knight-impostor drew away.

Valen couldn't hold back an annoyed grunt, though he smoothed it out quickly enough by adding a fake cough.

However, just as they were getting ready to leave, the strange young women announced an invitation to her ‘lab’, before walking off. Usually, Valen wouldn’t have given her a second glance, but the mention of flesh mending and the name Camilla did give him pause. Was she a healer? Then it would be beneficial for them to introduce themselves and get on her good side, strange as she was.

“On second thought, my lord, perhaps you fancy a stroll?”

Star, in fact, did not fancy a stroll, but he looked at Valen curiously all the same. "I suppose...?"

The basement was not hard to find, though Valen did wonder briefly why Lancelot assigned such a damp and dark space for someone with a seemingly useful skillset. He brushed that thought off and made three knocks on the wooden door to announce his presence.

The knock woke up Camilla up, though not the still sleeping wall girl from a simple glance upwards. Camilla could already see some of the flesh she stuck on the wall growing just a little bit more. By the end of the week, she should have all of the wall covered, and most of her machineries set up.

"Come in," she spoke, standing up and turning to the door.

"Amazing! Grotesque, but amazing!" Star remained near the door, his fascination restricted only to visual appreciation as he looked around the disturbing room. Disembodied wall flesh was one of the rare types of body parts he actually would not touch--at least, not without some large sum of money involved.

Valen simply regarded the fleshy patches with suspicion in his eyes, slightly confused. These creations were...impossible. There were indeed traces of magic on them, but they did not stink of it. It was curious, how these monstrosities came to be, and Valen couldn't wait to find out more about them.

"Greetings, my lady. May I introduce my lord Valen of Aldebaran?" -He gestured toward Star, who half-bowed politely as greeting, though he maintained his position between the fae and the clocksmith -"We have decided to take you on your offer and hopefully, we can get more...acquainted with your craft?" -He raised his voice a bit at the end, phrasing the sentence like a question.

Camilla gave them both the look over, lingering over 'Valen' a mite longer than she did 'the knight'. Valen of Aldebaran was it? The name rung a bell, but she did not pursue her curiosity.

Yet.

"A pleasure. Once again, I'm Camilla." Giving a look towards her still sparse lab, she cleared away a surface for them to lie on. "Tis just a bit of examination. Quite necessary, I assure you, to ensure that I could put you back together."

Already she was getting excited, enough so that she did not entertain the thought that these guests might have questions floating around in their head. Flesh was flesh, and she took pride in her work, as she always did. Any true craftsman would be able to understand her feelings, though they might not extend that understanding to her current craft.

Valen's gaze turned back to Star.

"The healer requests, my lord." -He gave a toothy smile -"Perhaps you should comply."

Despite his expression, Valen did have doubts about the flesh smith. Then again, having an efficient healer ready for Star was more important, so he held his emotions in check. At least, he was near. Should the woman do something strange, Valen was confident that he could stop her magic.

Star leaned back against the wall, a pleasant smile on his face while he addressed Camilla.

"My knight could certainly use the healing. If you would be so kind as to focus your efforts on him?"

"A humble servant does not require healing, my lord. The lady should save it for the more important ones. Such as you, my lord."

Camilla could only keep up that smile as she observed the two while waiting. Something was definitely up; they seemed both a tad too friendly with each other.

"No no. You first. I insist--wait--I command it." The smile turned into a mischievous smirk and Star tilted his head slightly, waiting for Valen's reaction.

Valen looked like he swallowed something bitter, but he knew better than to make another remark. Knights were supposed to follow orders, weren't they?

Without another word, he took a few steps toward Camilla, shoulders slumped slightly in defeat.

"I am at your disposal, healer."

Smilling brightly, Camilla clapped her hands together. "Then, can I ask you to take off your clothes then lie down here? I need to touch bare skin to properly examine you."

It did not actually matter even if he had armor on, but piercing through that with her hand shaped like an auger was unlikely to be well received, both because she would destroy whatever they were wearing and because of the image of her stabbing someone with something sharp.

"As you wish." -Valen nodded, then complied, but not without visible discomfort. He also only removed the clothes covering his upper body, not wanting to expose himself any further.

Camilla glanced at his body appreciatively. It was one used to hard exercise it would seem, shaped presumably by his martial exercises and practice. It seemed healthy, no doubt due to having enough food to eat, excercise to tone the muscles as well as some sunlight to enrich it. Like a botanist appraising a plant in a pot, it was just as easy for her to discern that just from observation alone.

"Well, lets start the examination." she grinned, laying her hands on his chest.

For a moment, she felt around his chest, feeling the hard muscles underneath his skin, before pressing down on it. Her eyes twitched at that, as her hands simply felt the resistance of a well toned body. Moving her hands to his stomach instead, she found that even there she could not manipulate his flesh so easily. There was an odd slight tingling in her hands however, most noticeable whenever she tried to actively manipulate his flesh. Stepping back with a puzzled look, she molded her hands together, moving her flesh around to make sure her abilities were still working.

"Apologies, but it seems my abilities aren't working on you," she spoke, still wearing that puzzled look. "I have no idea why, but do not worry. I will simply have to resort to a more... manual sort of healing with you. Should you get injured that is."

"What a shame, Sky. But thank you, my lady, for offering your assistance. I'm sure we'll have to rely on you in the days to come," Star said, bowing again to the strange healer for a longer duration this time before straightening. "There isn't much we could offer that would interest someone so well-versed as you, I'm sure, but in exchange our assistance is also at your disposal should you need it."

Valen already half-expected the outcome, given his nature and magic. A part of him was relieved, in a sense, because he had seen the woman worked her magic in the hall before, and it seemed strangely...violating. But she must produce results, right? Why else would Lancelot require her presence?

"Your turn, my lord." -He addressed Star as he shrugged his clothes back on, the crease on his brows made it clear that he would not take no for an answer.

"Don't be silly, Sky. If I'm hurt, I'll either heal normally or die. No need to waste our fellow knight's time on the mundane. Now let's retreat to our accommodations. I'm sure the lady would like to resume her work in peace now that we've ascertained different sorts of healing need be invoked on you."

"My lord." -Valen repeated, the frown deepened.

"You're such a worrywart. I mean to say that our dear healer is no doubt completely attuned to the workings of a typical human body. Nothing really needs examining on my part."

Star sauntered to the glowering bodyguard, resting his hands on his hips and leaning his weight on one foot, the very picture of "try me" as he regarded Valen's look with his own nonchalant stare.

This is actually quite fun to observe, Camilla thought.

But as to why they seemed rather opposed to her examining them... . Well, she wouldn't know why but that just makes her want to examine 'Valen' more. There were already some questions running around her head about those two, and the oddness of the knight just made more questions appear. Deciding she'd take the matter into her own hands, she simply extended her hand towards 'Valen', enterring their body easily.

The sudden intrusion without his consent took the fae by surprise, and it felt like cold water rushing into his body where Camilla's hand penetrated him. The chill ran up his spine and he gasped for air, bracing himself against Valen's arm in surprise.

Valen grabbed him instinctively, craddling the fae in his arms as he flicked his gaze to Camilla. For a moment, he looked hostile, almost ready to push the woman off his 'lord', but he mellowed soon enough, merely holding Star in place so the flesh smith could finish her examination while Star shuddered in his arms.

"Heeh... So this is why you were so against an examination?"

So one of those people with certain tastes; men who like men and men who like crossdressing. That, she paid no mind to, but this 'Valen' person certainly wasn't human. That was easy enough to tell once she got her hands in him, though it certainly wasn't the sort of inhuman that she was really interested in. That looks the knight gave her intrigued her as well.

"So, which was it? Afraid I was about to find out who you really were? Or afraid I would find out you weren't human?" Unconsciously, she puffed up slightly with pride before speaking again. "I'm not sure about the latter, but I can change the first if you like. Changing body parts and sculpting flesh to fit a new look is easy for me."

As if to prove her point, her face rippled for a moment, changing into Liv's countenance. Her hair grew to match, as horns sprouted easily from her head.

Star heaved several steadying breaths as the girl chattered with her water-cold hands still submerged within him. Not being human was the least of his worries in their sort of company, but he couldn't quite fathom what she meant by the first part.

"P-Pardon the--question," he forced the words out through gritted teeth, resisting his body's instinctive shivering, "but I'm--I'm not sure what you mean. R-regardless I don't need any chang--changes." He gripped Valen's arm harder, swallowing in an attempt to allay the discomfort.

"Ah, I see." Grinning widely, she started focusing on his form. "Perhaps a demonstration is in order."

Now focusing on her ideal self, 'Valen''s body started to change. His features started to soften even more, his skin turning a lighter colour. There was no fanfare, no flashy effects, just his body rippling and changing as she worked her craft on him, sculpting him in her mind's eye. There was no pain as she made adjustments to his bone structure, and his entire body's makeup. Perhaps a slight numbness as his chest swelled slightly, his lips turning slightly fuller and his hips widening.

"This is what I meant." She moved closer to the knight and lord embracing each other, both to admire her handiwork and to relieve the odd feeling of working from afar with her extended arms.

Star felt the anxiety the moment a strange tingling permeated his body, immediate fears of becoming another flesh decoration on the girl's wall reigning over his thoughts. The hasty conclusion skidded to a halt the moment he felt his chest rise into female form, pressing against Valen's body. There was shock and there was...sadness.

It took a moment for the thoughts to settle and the numbing sensation to fade, but his body felt fine again aside from the now-familiar pangs along the insides of his thighs, though the strange discomfort of the girl's hands remained.

Star hadn't responded to the change aside from a sudden gasp, but now he looked up at Valen, the face clearly that of a woman's and a question on his tongue that he didn't dare ask. Old conversations and joking suggestions of becoming a more "male appropriate" concubine flashed through his thoughts, and he wondered if Valen had come to a decision by now, especially when the answer seemed so easily presented to them.

Yet, Valen seemed blind to Star's current condition, instead focusing fully on the woman. His grey eyes seemed alight with fury as he bellowed.

"What did you do? Fix this!"

Star flinched at the sudden sound, but held onto Valen all the same. "Wait!" the female voice that rang out made him pause, the sound unnervingly different from what his mind had always been used to. Shaking it off as best he could, Star continued, "If you--if you want this more..." The implication remained unsaid.

Valen only gave Star a withering look. Another word and the woman could likely guess at their disguises. He wouldn't have that.

Camilla's eyes narrowed slightly, as her grin seemed to grow wider. It would seem her suspicions of something strange between them was right. A forbidden romance perhaps? One their respective families did not approve of?

"Fix what?" Realizing she had just changed 'Valen' without asking for their preference, she spoke again. "Ah yes, of course, perhaps I had been too hasty. I quite forgot to ask you for your preferences. Did you want to be taller perhaps? Longer hair? More exotic colors for your eyes?"

There was a quiet sigh, but Star gathered his composure once more--as much as he could in the face of what seemed a convenient solution to their problem.

"...Would you mind doing as Sky asks? I share a room with him, after all, and his mood tends to become my problem for days on end." A weak, shaking laugh followed the half-joke, but Star's gaze seemed directed elsewhere. "If it ever...becomes an issue, I'll be sure to consult your expertise."

Blinking, Camilla stared emptily for a moment at 'Valen', before realizing what they meant.

"Eeeh...." Sighing, she focused on her image of 'Valen' once again, sending his body rippling once again, turning him back to his original form. "I understand. A sudden image change would be shocking for one not prepared for it after all."

There was a slight hesitation as she wondered if they would notice if she left him with two sets down there, but ultimately decided against it as she pulled out her hand.

Sighing once again, with a slightly disappointed look on her face, she addressed them both. "With that, I have examined the both of you to the best of my abilities, all things considered. Do return to me in the future, should any of you be inflicted with disease, plague or injuries. Or perhaps even any sort of machines to be repaired."

"Certainly," the now-restored Star nodded, stepping away from Valen once the girl had finished her experimentation. He would have felt offense at the callous disregard for his personal space and permission, but he supposed as long as no harm was done, the matter could be settled at just that. It left only one thing to say. "And Camilla? ...I appreciate the thought."

With another half-bow, the fae left the room, limping almost imperceptibly as another shot of ache spread across his thighs. The experience had been a bit more rattling than he had let on, but his hasty departure was enough to signal something was amiss, if not physically then mentally.

Valen turned to follow Star outside then, though he still threw a dark look at the flesh smith over his shoulder.

"Thank you, healer. Though I would appreciate you informing us of any...experiments before performing them."

With that said, he hurried to catch up for Star. Clearly, they needed to talk.

Ester's plea for civility had for the most part been ignored, which she had honestly expected. At least no one could say she didn't try. There was one woman that responded positively, which surprised her a bit. Hopefully that positivity wouldn't come back to bite her in the behind. But that wasn't what was on her mind as she strolled through the castle. Ester was curious as to the contents of Lancelot's treasure trove. She cared not for the monetary value of his collection, but of whatever unique items may lay inside.

She eventually came to the entrance of the room and opened it without hesitation. Inside was a trove composed of a diverse selection of artifacts. She could likely spend hours in here examining all of the priceless objects. She set her eyes on a crystal ball the size of an apple in the corner, it appeared to reflect light into a prism of colors even though no light should have been shining directly at it. In fact the orb-

"Huh?" Ester blinked, finding herself staring at a blank space on the ground. "What was I... Doing?" It wasn't often she had bouts of confusion, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't remember what she was looking at. She shook her head and continued looking around the room. Her eyes laid upon an ornate pocket-watch. A beautiful crimson gem was embedded in the center, and the hands were made of pure gold. The hands were all stuck on twelve however, it seemed the watch was either broken or needed tuning. "This should be easy enough to... Easy enough to... What?" Again she found herself looking at nothing. This was twice now and she was starting to wonder if there was some sort of hex placed on this room.

She turned to leave and nearly tripped over something. She looked down at her feet and saw... something. She wasn't sure what she was looking at, which wasn't to say this was some object she could describe but had simply never seen before. She knew she was looking at something, her mind registered that something was there, but what was it? If she weren't undead she would have broken out in a cold sweat.
It's shape. It's size. It's weight. It's density. It's ____. She blinked, what was that last word? It entered her mind, but where did it come from? She didn't know.

Didn't know. Couldn't understand. Incomprehensible... Ineffable.

Something tore inside her mind both figuratively and literally. She stumbled to the ground, feeling something strange and highly unpleasant in her skull. Was this pain? Her body shouldn't be capable of feeling such a thing, but she could only describe the agony in her head as that.

Most people would have died from this, in fact even she would not survive her brain being obliterated. But her mind was still there, and was able to form it's self back together thanks to her natural healing. She pressed against the ground to stand up, and her left hand touched something. She looked at it, it was a book. It was in the same place as that strange object. Was this it's true form? She picked the book up and left the room. As she headed towards her room she looked the book over. It appeared to be an old book, with a dark leather cover and paper made from...

"Parchment? Vellum? No. This is Human skin." She let out an amused hum. It seemed she had come across something quite interesting.

Doctor Walker sat at the head of his carriage, steering his mule up the winding path to his destination. His carriage was fairly large -as it had to hold all of his ingredients and equipment- with a sign that swung from a post hanging off the front that had the global symbol for an apothecary carved into the wood. He himself was covered head to toe in treated leather with a mask over his face, as was the custom of traveling doctors. He hummed to himself to stay entertained and keep his spirits high as he approached the castle.

At the sight of the barricade near the bridge he quickly let go of the reigns and clambered into the back of his wagon through the curtains that hung behind him. After a few moments a corpse was thrown from the rear of the wagon and shortly after Dr. Walker climbed back into his seat taking up the reigns once more. He pulled back on the reigns slightly to slow the horse until they came to a stop before the barricade. Dr. Walker leaped up onto his seat and cleared his throat before announcing in a loud, smooth, and slightly muffled voice.

"Did someone here call upon The Good Doctor to make a house call?
For I, Doctor Jack Walker, am here to cure your diseases, ills, aches, pains, fevers, blisters, bumps, boils, sores, and so on!"

---

It had not been long after Evelyn fell asleep was she woken by the sound of knocking upon her room door. Grabbing her sword she approached slowly, making sure her steps were as silent as possible. Gripping the handle she yanked her chamber door open and raised her blade only to hold back upon noticing her visitor's visage was shared with Alysse. She had expected that they would exchange words again but not so soon after their last. Lowering her sword she began to close the door while whispering, "One moment". Quickly changing back into her robe and veil she exited her chambers, leaving Bartuc behind to rest. 

Clio, Alysse's Third, bowed respectfully. While it no doubt rankled the Ironteeth witch, her leader had spoken. It was not wise for any underling to defy their coven's leader. It could cost rank, coven and potentially life. Alysse was a reasonable witch, but even she had lines that should not be crossed. "Milady sends her regards, and resquests you to her chambers." Turning she gestured that the woman should proceed her. Speaking quietly as to not be over heard, Clio moved her head closer to whisper to the Prophet. "She does not wish for you to be taken a fool."

"The meaning of such I suppose will be revealed upon my arrival." Evelyn's eyes quickly scanned the halls checking to see of there were any interlopers before making her way through the halls with Clio. Plans had begun to formulate within the mind of the veiled mother. Schemes and conspiracies of such cunning she'd been taught to construct by her lord. All within this keep had a role to play, and she would see each properly compensated for their part. 

Neither Norae nor Dorae appeared before the Vieled Mother. There was no need to stop the woman, their misson was to stop those without their leader's invite. Opening the door Clio, bowed the prophettess into the common room. Within ten women lounged about on various chairs, couches and lounges. Cat-esque eyes peering at the interloper in their domain, assessing the danger to their leader and not making a move to hide it. Anise turned her attention back to the window after a moment. The rest twisting about to relax in the luxurious requirements. Alysse longued in the largest and softest of chairs, her second in command, MIna, at her right hand. Several weapons lingering with easy and obvious reach of her. "Ah... Lady Evelyn." The lead witch purred. "Welcome to the abode Lancelot graciously appointed to us." She gestured about with a finely boned hand indicating her sister. "My coven- Blackwater- sisters." Clio poured a goblet of wine, offering it to the woman after taking a drink herself to prove it's trustworthiness. "There are two others of us, but they are making sure we are not overheard nor interrupted less we wish it." She quirked a eyebrow, with a inviting smile. "I did not wish for you to mistake one who might do you harm with one of us." She knew her sisters were feeling alarmed. They did not like her bringing a stranger so close. But her job was to look for the best of the coven. Enemy or foe. She wanted this woman close.

Evelyn's eyes went across the room as Alysse spoke, she could already feel the growing whispers within her mind as her lord began contemplating their next step. "I must admit my friend, I did not expect our next conversation until at least tomorrow. Nevertheless, it is a welcome surprise.", her words were gentle and to a degree sincere but the veiled mother was never one to trust fully on a first encounter. As she spoke her mind reached for Bartuc, imploring him to wake and come to her aid should she need him. "To be truthful, I did wish to discuss something of importance while we still had some semblance of privacy tonight", Evelyn took a step towards the window, peering out to inspect the status of her cultists outside the keep. It had been some time since she arrived and new armies gathered around Lancelot's castle, their numbers dwarfing her own. 

Gesturing for Alysse to accompany here by the window, what exposed regions of her face gave a look of seriousness and concern. "Tell me, what do you see before you when you look down at the castle gates?", her voice void of the warmth it once had. 

The Night Witch rose from her chair. Her Second following like a shadow. "Why take time waiting? Unexpected things tend to pop up, and I thought it might be the wiser notion to fly into the maelstorm with a firm plan." Anise moved to the side of the window, still a steady guard incase any threat appeared that way. Her gait was as graceful and sure as a cat. Casting her gaze down towards the armies, her frown grew slightly. "Those men, women. Whatever the race be." She flicked her fingers is a almost dismissive gesture and several of her sisters cackled softly in amusement. Their sort didn't overly care what they mated with to produce their daughters, only that they were strong and-generally- handsome. "I see those for the bleeding and the rutting. I also see problems. Threats to my coven and our hold on our lands." She raised a brow at the Veiled Mother. Careful keeping a serene look of concern upon her face. "What is it you see? Down there, and up here?" It was bold, perhaps a tad too much so. But this woman was in Alysse's domain, and her coven about her made her so. She could not relax her position unless her sisters questioned her. Not that they made a habit of that.

"Below us I see opportunity, same as here. The nature of these two vary greatly however. I cannot divulge much but be assured I am of no threat to your coven. Know that there are plans in place to see each of us to our deserved reward. Stick close to myself and Bartuc when this crusade begins, I would not have my ally far from my side", there was never a moment where Evelyn was not planning for the future, never a moment when her thoughts weren't focused on how to gain an advantage. Whatever everyone elses reasons for joining this crusade, Evelyn's were solely to regain the throne, eliminating any threats to it wherever they may be. 

Raising a pale brow, the witch listened to her sisters shift restlessly. Oh, there were plans. The whorls of Fate that the Triple-Goddess whispered through. Gesturing sharply with a flick of her fingers she leaned against the sill of the window. "Nor would I. So long as the partnership is benefical, and respect is maintained." Alysse gave Evelyn a poliet smile, a geniune one. "Give us that along with continuation of our blood and our bloody wine." She inclined her head in a solemn nod. "I believe you will find what you lost." Her witches would bend to noone but her, nor would they accept anything less than a equal partnership. They were a prideful people. Though this woman, Alysse found herself very much wanting to seduce this woman and discover more about her. Though wisdom warned her not to.

"You have my word, as bride to our lord and heir to Tyrvald, when this is said and done, your kin shall find safe harbor in my kingdom", Evelyn bowed deeply, a smile on her face as she turned back towards the door with Clio and Serrafina as her escorts. 

Alysse bowed just a deeply, and was far past sorely tempted to give wisdom the offending finger. Evelyn was a lovely woman, veiled and all.

---

"You summoned me, Lancelot?" The old weathered figured, Bolladreq, approached the dark knight after opening the doors to his chambers. The knight in question was going over a map of sorts, with various pawns and figures (including figurines of each Knight of Evil) laid out over the map. "Yes I did. I need you to take our knights to Blackwater Manor."

Bolladreq scoffed. "You expect me to carry them all the way there?"
"No, I just need you to escort them. I've arranged suitable methods of transportation to accompany the lot."
"Hmph, you don't pay me enough for this."
"I don't pay you, Great Bolladreq, you owe me."
There was a wave of silence as he emphasized the words before the defiant old man sighed in defeat.
"Whatever, I'll get them going first thing in the morning. Be warned though Lancelot, I am not a lap dog."

---

The Knights of Evil were dragged out of the castle, willingly or not, by Bolladreq and had them cross the bridge to the mainland; Where several carriages and wagons, each drawn by black red-eyed horses. Most of the wagons were more suited for nobles, fully walled and roofed with comfortable, but limited, seating. However the last wagon seemed to be suited for an abundance of occupants, with opened roofed carts with the size to suit even the largest of the roster comfortably.

There were three 'executive' wagons, each can seat up to 4 people(Only suited for characters shorter then 7 feet in height.)
There was one of the mass transport wagon, capable of holding up to 10 people.

Driving each of the wagons were goblins dressed in fancy clothes that didn't fit them, one of them even hid a gilded monocle and top hat.
"Alright lot, load up and get ready and move out. We will be invading Blackwater manor, home of the vampiric necromancer Abither Arkov."

Some hours along the journey, the cast were in thick woods shrouded by fog. In this dense passage indiscernible noises could be heard all around them. Bolladreq was no where to be found, and the goblins themselves seemed very on edge.

Camilla & Phirra
Collab with @Ciaran

---

On the second day at Lancelot’s castle, Phirra decided it would be well-advised to pay Camilla a visit. The “girl”, though more than a little odd, had demonstrated her capabilities well enough, and, ultimately, taking the path of action in which a capable healer was readily in hand seemed correct. Of course, Phirra had already seen one application of Camilla’s capabilities (having thankfully arrived late for her experiment with Ester), and it had been just as disturbing as impressive.

Phirra wondered how she’d react to the metal that laced her bones, the entirely missing section of her arm and the magical liquid held inside. After busying herself until a reasonable hour of the morning, she braced herself, then knocked on the door.

Once again, Camilla turned towards her door, a smile forming as she realized another person was there to be examined. The lab was already set up somewhat, with a half assembled machine in one corner, and the table, for both experiments and assembly, properly set up. By now the girl in the wall had was already growing across the entire wall, with the girl herself looking listlessly around.

”Come in.”

Phirra did so, looking across the room at the same time. The machinery was unsurprising, and in fact not entirely dissimilar to what she had made to assist in installing her augmentations. As for the wall, well, if it wasn’t clear why Phirra had been bracing herself before, it was now. She managed to keep her appearance fairly neutral, though she was more than a little discomforted by it.

“I’m here, as requested.” She began, stepping towards the middle of the room. “What do you need?”

Her glance at the fleshy material covering the wall was not lost on Camilla, as her smile widened slightly.

“Ah yes, welcome to my… workshop.” Camilla chuckled. “Do not mind Matilda there. I’ve taken out her throat so she would not disturb us.”

Working quickly, she cleared the table of any instruments and parts, before patting on its surface, signalling for Phirra to lie down upon it.

“Kindly take off any garments. Tis far easier for me to examine you then.”

Phirra nodded in response to Camilla’s comment about Matilda, before trying to ignore it - her - as best she could.

She was slightly surprised at the request to undress, though more because the thought hadn’t occurred to her previously than that it was at all unreasonable. Still, Camilla hadn’t made the same request of the half-dragon.

Regardless, after a moment’s hesitation, she obliged, lying down on the table. If nothing else, this’ll be a new experience. I wonder if it’ll hurt., she thought.

Camilla grinned all the wider as the lady lay naked willingly upon her table. Like the warrior knight before her, her body was well toned, well fed, and well treated. Healthy, and attractive. Then again, all forms of flesh was attractive to her.

“Relax. I’ll be gentle.”

Her right hand first stroked the inside of Phirra’s neck, as if tracing her muscles, before her fingers entered her flesh without any resistance. Her pulse seemed steady, her muscles there wasn’t stressed, and her bones… seemed to be hollow? Camilla was getting a bit flushed; no matter how many times she did this, it was always exciting for her. Laying a hand on Phirra’s chest, again, she simply enjoyed the feeling of her skin for a moment, before pushing through her chest. Flesh parted around her hand without resistance, though, all of a sudden, Camilla’s hand caught on Phirra’s rib cage. Frowning slightly, she felt around it for a moment, before realizing what it was.

“Ah, I see your bones are reinforced with metal. That explains why I felt your bones were hollow.”

Thankfully, Camilla kept her promise. Being examined didn’t hurt, but it felt very wrong. Almost a violation of privacy, and it wouldn’t be almost if Phirra hadn’t consented herself to it. It also made Phirra feel very vulnerable, for the first time in a long time. Camilla could just reach in and crush her heart, or kill her in any number of other ways someone that unstable could probably think of. At least it seemed she didn’t plan to, yet.

“Yes, that was my own design, actually. Better than lugging around a tank of Ether on my back, like other artificers have done. The metal was a necessity, or my bones would snap from my own weight alone. Could’ve used you then, actually. The operation was probably as painful as you’d expect, and it didn’t help that I was the one performing it. This won’t be a problem, will it? I can fix the metal if I need to.”

Perhaps it was irrational, but Phirra felt slightly relieved to discover that Camilla’s power was blocked by the reinforcements. It eased that sense of vulnerability, though it might cause a problem for her later on.

“Oh? By yourself you say?” Camilla’s hand surged around the metal, feeling around the organs inside. Everything seemed to be working correctly, though Phirra’s heart was beating faster than it should. “It would not be a problem. The metal I cannot affect, but if you want, I could do some alterations on your bone structure.”

Her hands went lower on Phirra’s body, still keeping that slow rhythmic movements across her belly. Her right hand had moved lower onto Phirra’s chest, acting as support while Camilla’s other hand moved lower and lower on Phirra’s body. There were some unknown structure in her hands, which she could feel to be something mechanical. Whatever it was it should be some sort of equipment she didn’t understand, not that she was overly interested in them at the moment.

“Hey,” Camilla moved closer to Phirra, a slight flush evident on her grinning face. “Do you need... want any sort of alterations? For starters, I could reinforce your bones. After that, anything you would like changed. Hair color perhaps? A different eye color? Perhaps you want to be taller? Slimmer? Stronger? So, would you like to?”

Phirra had no interest in cosmetics. She looked nice enough as she was, and she wasn’t exactly in the trade for drawing attention to oneself. Because of this, she was only really half listening to Camilla as she spoke, waiting for her to finish so she could politely decline. That was until Camilla said the work “stronger”.

This was, after all, the reason she had answered Lancelot’s call in the first place. She had hoped to acquire resources, artifacts, followers… whatever would help her kill Armas. Granted, she hadn’t expected it to come in this form, but it would still help, right? Maybe it would be a violation of her body, but the same could be said for what she’d already done to herself. It definitely didn’t feel right, but was that as important as the goal she’d been chasing for twelve years? At this point it was essentially her life’s work, and she might not get an opportunity like this again. Right. Decision made.

“Yes.” Her voice was a little unsteady, so she repeated, herself, more firmly. “Yes, I would like some things to change. I’m quite happy with how I look, though. I’m more interested in… the other side of it. Simply put, there is someone very powerful I mean to kill. I’ll need every advantage I can get. What can you do?”

Camilla’s red pupils seem to gleam against the black sclera of her eyes. What can she do? She could think of giving her the ability to rapidly generate bones to shoot at projectiles, literally shoot out dragon fire from any existing orifice or any new ones she wants made, or even give her the ability to generate poisonous mist.

“What can I do?” She let out a small snicker at that. “What do you want? A third limb to hold another weapon? The ability to shoot out venom with your eyes? Tell me what you want, and I’ll see what I can do.”

This posed an important question to Phirra. How far should she go? She’d already determined that her campaign of vengeance was more important than her humanity, but by how much? She had been prepared to simply let Camilla do whatever she pleased and make do with the result, but apparently that wasn’t happening. Instead, to pick and choose whatever changes she desired, made it seem more malignant. She certainly wasn’t on the side of good anyway, but she considered herself closer to it than some of her accomplices. This… was difficult.

Two things came to mind, in terms of making things more specific. First of all, she wanted to keep a humanoid form. Further than that was definitely too far. Secondly, whatever happened, she didn’t want her Ether constructions to be wasted. She spent too much time working on that crossbow to end up having it clatter to the floor as her arm changes to something new.

To simplify things, Phirra decided that whatever she chose, it would be something that would cover her primary weakness: melee combat. Even then, there was so much that might be done. Claws? Strength? An extra arm, as Camilla had said?

But then, why limit oneself? Perhaps she could be as the vampire, Ester, and never age. Maybe she could be as a phasm, changing form at will. It was a difficult decision.

“Laugh, then. Be as confident as you wish. A few minutes ago I’d have called you arrogant. Oddly enough, having someone move through your body like it’s nothing can change your opinion of their capability. Still, let’s see if I can’t give you a challenge. Have you ever met a gorgon? Their eyes can turn someone to stone, but they can be easily recognised by the snakes that cover their head instead of hair. Give me the first, but not the second. And do let me suppress the ability, I think we can agree that both of us are better as flesh than as stone.”

Camilla stared at the woman lying on the table for a moment, before she burst out laughing. “Perhaps I am overconfident of my skill. The second I start working on the eyes, I would be turned to stone, for the eyes itself is magic. I am but a craftsman, working not with wood or metal, but with flesh. I have no magic to speak of to suppress eyes with such power.”

Feeling as if Phirra might be overwhelmed with her choices, she simply followed her intuition, honed in the years of dealing with customers as a clockmaker and mechanic, offering her a suggestion.

“While cursed eyes might be far beyond my abilities, perhaps something something like enhanced strength and speed be sufficient for now?”

“That does not surprise me. I imagined there would be something making the concept impossible, though I didn’t know what. I merely intended to gauge your powers. No doubt at least some of the other knights would react poorly to such an occurrence. In any case, it is quite comforting to me that such a thing would be impossible. Yes, speed and strength would be wonderful.”

Though she was not lying in that she never had really meant to gain such powers from Camilla, a part of Phirra was a little disappointed. On the other hand, where would the challenge in killing her targets be if she could simply petrify anyone she could see? Yes, it was definitely for the best.

Besides, the whole thing was slightly embarrassing. Something more subtle would be fine.

Camilla licked her lips as Phirra made her decision. Deftly she jumped onto the table, straddling the unclothed woman lying there.

“Relax. It would be harder to work if your muscles are tensed.”

Her body melted slightly into Phirra, establishing a contact link between both of them. With this, she could feel what Phirra was feeling, and vice versa. Already Phirra should be able to feel the waves of...excitement and desire from Camilla, as her hands moved rapidly in a pattern inside Phirra’s body, laying first the latticework upon which she would layer on the muscles.

Despite Camilla’s advice, the first thing Phirra did upon Camilla melding with her was to tense up. It was hard not to, but in a moment Phirra remembered herself and, despite how every instinct she had screamed no, relaxed. “Relaxed” might have been the wrong word, though, as soon the strangeness passed, and Camilla’s happiness to be working was equally her happiness to be worked on.

The actual process, the work being done, was nothing like Phirra had ever experienced. The feeling of growing stronger, doing something that would otherwise take countless hours of work instead in minutes, was exciting even without Camilla’s influence. Oh, how Armas would regret every moment he’d spent that would have led him to that one moment. How he would suffer. How Phirra would take it all back.

Accompanied by dreams of her retribution, Phirra relaxed fully, and waited for the process to be finished.

With Phirra now relaxed fully, Camilla worked quickly, weaving first Phirra’s own muscles as she compressed them, before pouring out her own flesh. All the time, waves of euphoria washed over them, with some big enough to make Camilla to just stop for a moment as she convulsed slightly over the lady. But with time, she finished her work, as she just collapsed on the lady entirely, breathing heavily.

“My... apologies, but I need to… to rest for a short while.” Still speaking from where she was, she continued. “For now, you’d be able to lift a man one handed with no problem, as well as react quicker and just barely outrun a horse. It is far from what I can do, but doing everything all at once would probably destroy your body if you do not get accustomed to it first.”

Finally able to move a little bit, she pushed off Phirra, sitting up on her. There was a satisfied smug grin on her face as she continued. “You would probably feel the need to eat more, but that effect is normal. For now, continue on doing what you do, and… if there are any strange side effects you feel you should not have, come to me again.”

Camilla separated her flesh from Phirra, severing their contact link. Getting off the table, she wobbled over under Matilda, before leaning against the wall and sinking down. “Examination.. Over… I… going to… rest now… thank…”

She nodded off, without ever finishing her sentence, having exhausted herself to sleep.

“Thankyo-” Phirra began, before Camilla passed out. Feeling slightly awkward, she walked to the door quietly and left.

Lift a man one-handed? Outrun a horse? This would do very well. Yes, Phirra imagined she’d be taking full advantage of these capabilities very soon. And again, another time. But that could wait. For now, she had a task to perform, and she needed to make sure she was ready.



Days later, while attending to the mass of flesh now covering most of her workshop, she was told to go and get on a carriage. Her services was needed, it would seem, to either fix machine or flesh, as both were part of her repertoire. Obviously she had waited until one of the people she still wanted to desperately dissect live arrived.

Which was why she was sitting close — uncomfortably close some would say — to the dragon girl.

That said, it was a very long journey, with nothing of interest to her along the way. Twice now she had fallen asleep, and woken up to find the carriage still trundling around. Perhaps she should make a better horse. A faster horse with at least eight legs. In fact, she could very well go out and do it right now. If only she wasn't so sleepy from the utter boredom of travel. Perhaps she could pretend to fall asleep as an excuse to grab that dragon girl's tail this time.

All of a sudden, Camilla realized where they were; in a foggy path with odd noises coming from around them. She started to grin. It was starting to feel like home, though the goblins seemed on edge. Perhaps there will be an ambush soon. She could certainly use the entertainment.