---

It had taken them a long time but, after hours upon hours of trudging through the dense fog, Granoda finally managed to lead everyone out of the forest, and into the village in which the medicine was meant to be delivered. However, something was still amiss; namely, the fact that the party had never been attacked despite being at its most vulnerable. This could only mean one of two things. Either these threats were lies in their entirety, or these so-called assailants had a subtler method in mind for ensuring that the medicine never reached the villagers that needed it most. Mind games were not Granoda's forte at all, but this was starting to look like she'd have to play along...

"Still gonna need a pint after this," Granoda muttered to herself, reluctantly slinging her axe over her back again. They were in a village, after all, so it would be customary to holster one's weapon so as to not cause its populace to panic unnecessarily. But at the same time, she didn't really feel all that safe right now.

Up ahead was a man who had been tending to a flame situated at the center of the village, clad in black robes and with his back turned to the party. He seemed to be the only visible person in this village, but everything about him screamed outsider. Why exactly he was here was unknown as of yet. Granoda stopped everyone before they came too close to the man, refusing to take any chances with him.

"Before we go any further, we should ascertain that there's... say, more than one person here," she explained, before turning towards a certain rare vanguard, "Diana?"

Even as the fight died down, Ahnciel remained in a form of caster's stance, watching the twitching corpse impaled on the ceiling as if expecting it to launch a conterattack.
Open combat was certainly nothing like his previous experience with murder, though through the haze of adrenaline that made his hands tremble, he couldn't tell which experience had been messier. While the Whispers of Fish were far more efficient at dismissing mortality than a kitchen knife and the element of surprise, the resulting gore was equally far from elegant.
Briefly, Ahnci's mind touched on a question of if it was even possible that taking a life could be anything less than panicked butchery.

He was snapped out of his daze by Korgath's words, almost jumping as he was addressed. Turning to look, he quickly averted his eyes from making contact before softly replying, "Y-yes...ouf course."
With a small flourish, he fluttered his cloak to gently bolster the dull fog which gilded the salted stone with creeping frost. "If I may, Sir Korgath...zehr ver more zehn six on zee beach, to be certain. Unless zhey are in anohzer cave, I vould expect to see more" Ahnci answered for Alexander before bowing his head in their direction, keeping with the trend of avoiding looking at their face as he offered an apology of, "Pardon. I vahs chased my more zehn six."

A brief silence was shattered the moment the chimera unclenched their fist and relaxed their other crooked hand back to his sides. The spell being released, a scrape of scales against stone ground from above before Ahnci's victim clattered to the ground, making him jump with an audible yip. Quickly recovering, he growled and released his frustration in the form of a swift kick into its side. Metal-adorned or not, the kick impotently 'bonked' into the fishman, almost making the small humanoid stumble from the recovery.
In his fury, he hadn't taken much notice of Liv whom he assumed was taking tabs on the dead or something like that, though the air felt off in a way he couldn't put his finger on. Being linked to arcane resonance was a new sensation, and 'off' was as close as Ahnci's senses could explain the necrotic aura of their companion consuming the souls of the dead fishbeasts.

He dismissed it as still being a bit shaken from the fight.

As everyone had continued - some preparing to delve deeper into the cavernous abyss, some wary of a strange man, and some preparing to destroy the lair of a goblin - an inexplicable feeling washed over them. At first, it was subtle. A slight tingle at the nape of the neck. It quickly turned from a slight feeling to overwhelming. A coarse case of dread - as if the world was going to end at this very moment. Suddenly, it felt as though one's soul was being torn from existence. In this pain, it was nigh impossible to move.

Vision began to shift - the world seemed to invert in color, but still remained the same. Every source of light became dark and dark became bright. It was impossible to focus one's eyes - the world seemed to rapidly change. In a brief moment of lucidity, one could see themselves - their body continuing to move and act as though what they were seeing was merely a hallucination.

However, that was not the case.

---

---

As a creeping darkness seemed to wash over one's vision, a bright static seemed to fill the world. Suddenly, the pain stopped. Rather, there was no more feeling. It felt as though one's body was ethereal - a dream. Difficult to move, as if submerged in water.

This lucidity brought forth vision - whatever one had been doing was gone. This was no longer Alma. This was something else. The sky was a deep purple, a large white crack flowing through the middle. There was no sun, nor was there a moon. Despite this, a bright lite seemed to radiate on the land.

It was difficult to see. The ground was a fine white silt - the grains being infinitesimally small - that seemed to whip around the air as though it was blown by wind, only to fly back in the opposite direction seconds later. There was no wind. At least, nothing you could feel. Whatever the case was, the constant motion was unsettling, as though whatever this was - was alive.

Following the land, there seemed to be ruins everywhere. Long buried, the head of a familiar statue - Sirris. Beside it, a figure, constantly praying to the submerged relic. Opposite to whatever that being was a deep tower, seeming impervious to the ground. While one could see the bottom, the top seemed to be infinite - reaching deep into the purple sky.

However, despite the dreamlike feel of this world, a subtle hint to the world came to fruition - the ground seemed to constantly shake. A low hymn. The silt constantly moved, causing one's feet to slowly sink in. It would be for the best if everyone kept moving, lest they get swallowed by the silt.