Literally insects. This was hardly worth her time.

For a young adventurer a swarm of bugs might be fearsome. They aren't like a conventional enemy where they're one single being that you can strike down; a swarm consist of hundreds if not thousands of tiny creatures that you cannot strike well with a blade or arrow, and even if you can kill one or ten, there are still hundreds of more. But for Ashe this was typical. She lived in a swamp where swarms like this were more common than rats. And she knows how to deal with either. Raising one hand up she blasted flames from her hand, shaping it from a single gout to a wide wall. Any bug that came near would get vaporized, and even if they came as a swarm each indivudal could not withstand the flames no matter how many gathered.

But Ashe did not ignore the true threat. She had heard the giggles. She knew that this swarm was being controlled by another. So while her wall of flame was holding back the tide of insects, Ashe conjured a ball of fire in her hand and threw it at the laughing fairy. Her fireball would come shooting out from the wall, which had been hiding Ashe this entire time. Despite lacking a visual Ashe's aim would be precise as an arrow; mischievous fey were enemies Ashe has faced as well.

The goblin smiled wickedly as he reached for Assallya, drawing a knife from his belt to threaten her into further compliance. The greenskinned monster reached for the sorcerer and tore at her shirt, an easy task even for such a small creature. It's eyes was filled with violence and lust as it crept closer to have it's way with Assallya. Then she was splattered with blood as the goblin's headless corpse fell onto her body, while it's head sailed off the wagon. Standing on the ground just a bit below her, Varrock hefted the axe onto his shoulder. "Seriously? You can't handle two goblins? Women..." The brigand sighed just as the ogre made a loud roar. Bloody and bruised, but the last one standing in the violent melee. The two orcs had been ripped apart, as were the goblins accompanying the large creature. It's club was shattered against the ground, but it made due with a large rock, bigger than Varrock's torso. He looked over towards the two adventurers and approached slowly.

The armored knight gave it some thought. Goblins he could handle. This guy... This guy was going to be a challenge. More so if he needed to protect some woman while he was fighting. Or maybe he could use the woman and a distraction; the objective of these greenskined beasts were obvious enough. Varrock turned to Assallya as the beast limped on over. "So, let's hear an offer." Underneath his already smiling visage, the highwayman smirked at Assallya. "I'm not the type to save a damsel in distress. Frankly I'm just here to pick the corpses. So what do you got that'll convince me not to let that ogre over there play around with you?"

@Assallya

---

No where was save in Norn. Not even Roy's own little haven was safe from the hostile forces that lived here. That being said, he if he wanted a place to crawl under and hide, there was the ruins of a stable he could curl up in. Half the roof was collapsed, but the other half made for a decent if improvised hut to hide from the darkness and elements. If nothing else, the wretch stench coming from it would mask Roy's own, allowing him to hide from any more beasts lurking in the dark. He should choose his option quickly however. Blood was in the air, and that would whip the wildlife into a frenzy.

@Searat

---

Yomiko's plan was working well so far; the fire caused the treant to panic, ignoring the kitsune to put out the fire on it's body. There was no water nearby for it to douse itself in, so it could only began to scoop up dirt and try to kill the flames that way. But Alchemist Fire was too stubborn to be killed so easily; only by letting it burn itself out could the treant hope to lose the flames, and being made of fuel for the fire, that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. Worse still, parts of it's harden oaken shell began to fall apart. And for a brief moment Yomiko would see the opportunity she sought; an exposed heartwood. Much like a real heart it was red and pulsed with life, but it was pulsing rather fast due to the frantic nature of the treant. So frantic that it didn't even realize that Yomiko was still here as her blade pierced it's heart. It was dying fast, and soon it would die before it even fell to the ground. But as one last act of defiance, the treant would try to grab hold of Yomiko and crush her, either in his crash or underneath his body as he fell to the earth, dead.

@Norschtalen

---

Ashe's fire was terribly effective. Even as the swarm tried to move around, they couldn't get nearer with most dying simply due to the radiant heat of the fire, and they surely were slain when forced into the flames themselves. The fairy watched with amusement, knowing that she had picked a fun enemy to fight. Perhaps she'll animate the stones to fight her instead, or perhaps summon a treant to crush her. But before she could even think of what other monster to sick onto Ashe, a bolt of fire collided with the tiny pixie. She fell to the ground, charred and burning. She twitched painfully as she looked to her wings; her delicate, beautiful wings, reduced to cinders. Her small body, one that many would admire thanks to her fey beauty, now marred with scars and burns to make her look like a burnt effigy. She cried meekly in pain as the swamp dispersed, no longer under the command of the pixie. She couldn't even get a curse out as she expired, turning into dust in the dirt.

@Ryonara

When the chief charged Joseph went on the defensive. He could tell this man was unlike the others; they fell for simple feints and lacked a true warrior spirit. This one however... There was some bite to him. Joseph stayed on the defensive and hide behind his shield, even as the man tried to splash poison into his face. A few drops did manage to hang onto the gap of his visor but not hit Joseph himself: he remained steadfast and didn't waver nor flinch. It'd take more than dirty tricks like that to stop this holy knight. Still, Joseph knew that he couldn't remain on the defensive for long, and this chief was certainly faster than him. He could get three maybe for slashes in by the time Joseph got one, so he needed to make his next strike count. If it wasn't a deathblow, than it could spell doom for Joseph.

If there was one weakness about constantly being on the offensive, it was becoming predictable. The bandit chief was fast, yes, but soon he'd start to build a rhythm with his strikes. Even as he was looking for ways around Joseph's shield he only needed a second of carelessness to catch him off-guard. In a flash, Joseph parried one of the chief's attack, knocking his sword away in such a way that he could not instantly follow up with another strike. This gave Joseph all the time he needed the heft his zweihander from his shoulder, high into the air, and then down onto the back of the man's neck. Like a guillotine, Joseph's blow would be swift, heavy, and instantaneously lethal.

By Murkul's shriveled black balls! The elven sorceress nearly spluttered, one eye blinking from having blood in it. She was splattered in blood again. This was why she hated violence and why she had others do it for her. Well, that and the resultant danger of being skewered while inflicting violence.

Then the hedge knight began speaking and making an offer. She had to admit, she completely had to reevaluate the man after he opened his mouth. He'd come to collect items from corpses? Honorable knights didn't speak thusly. No, they'd make up an excuse for looting the long dead inhabitants of their valuables, justifying their depredations on some fool quest or something else about the "greater good".

Finally, he threatened to give her over to the ogre sized goblin.

"I can do more than you could imagine," and began to rise, noting that the knight didn't bother offering her a hand up, "Now, look away from me and be ready to strike him down. You will know when."

While rising she had considered a few spells but simple was always best and weaker spells, given that magic was being leeched away somehow felt safer than attempting one of her more powerful spells. So, instead she began to dance. Her slender pale limbs began to catch at the air, spinning in gentle circles, moving to a song that she was humming softly. Her hips began to sway, twisting and writhing as a serpent's might and then, finally, her bare feet shifted back and forth on the roof of her vardo wagon. Her bracelets and anklets began to chime along to the rhythm, giving voice to the music she was so barely humming. She moved with the grace of a leaf caught in the wind and her golden hair caught the light of the moon struggling to reach through the trees and glistened. Beneath the stone goliath's severed hand, holding it's castle slaying sword she danced, moving like the shadow before a flickering flame.

That's when the magic began. It was a simple spell, channeled through her dance, one of blatant mesmerism. As the massive goblin stared at her, gaping in dumbfounded rapture, she continued to dance, captivating him completely.

Roy was desperate. The smell of blood would easily attract more monsters to deal with and Roy was in no shape to fight another beast. It seemed like he had wandered aimlessly for hours before he saw a stable not too far from his position. Normally, Roy would have outright refused to seek refuge in such a filthy and dilapidated building such as the stable; this the farthest thing from a normal occasion. The curse was taking a toll on his senses and would soon plague him with hallucinations. Roy then decided to make his way to the stable where, hopefully, he would be able to wait out the effects. He slowly trudges along the cold and lonely path to the stable before the hallucinations begin to stir. Before him stood the image of his mother and father. Looking at him with disappointment and regret. "Roy, how could you have been so foolish? Did we not trained you to always be on your guard when you face your opponents? How could we have raised such a disappointment?" Roy winces and walks through the illusion, causing the images to dissipate into nothing. It was then he saw his wife's image, sad and lamenting. "Roy...how could you leave me?" the image gently places her hands upon her midriff. "How could you leave us? Going after fanciful tales and rumors rather than spending your last days with us. Do you even care how we feel?" The statement causes Roy to clench his hands with an almost crushing amount of force as he forces himself to ignore the illusion. He loved his family dearly, but he loved his wife more than anything in his life. Hearing this, even from an illusion, causes Roy to question if he really would find a cure here in Norn and if it was worth leaving them behind. That moment of weakness summoned hundreds of illusions, fallen comrades pleaded to why they had to die, his parents and siblings expressed disdain on Roy, and his wife pleaded to him to return home to Briston so at the very least they could bury him with a proper funeral.

Roy willed on to the stable, reassuring himself that these were mere illusions and nothing more. He was less than a horse's length to the stable when the hundreds of voices suddenly stopped. Before the entrance of the stable stood another Roy. Though it's skin was a deathly pale, revealing the blackened veins. It's eyes were nothing but pure milk white spheres, his mouth forced into a rictus grin that revealed yellowed teeth. The grotesque version of Roy let out a low, unnatural, and almost demonic voice bellowed out of the thing that looked like him and echoed as if it had another accompanying voice. "You're going to die in here..." Before it mockingly laughs at him. Roy has had enough of these illusions. He charges at his alternate self with his rapier, but hits nothing but air and causes him to stumble into the stable. As he lies on a small pile of stale hay, the illusions return and surround him. His vision fades as he passes out in the old dilapidated stable.

"Tch!" Yomiko had hoped this thing would die quietly, but of course it had one more thing to do before it fell. Yomiko had a hard time pulling her katana out of the heartwood and dodging at the same time, so she just had to let go and do some evasive maneuvers. She ran up the treant's body towards the flames just above his hands, and before she'd let herself get hit by the oil fire, she launched her body down to yank her katana out, hit the ground, and roll out of the way before the treant landed on her. She put as much distance between herself and the treant as she could before she watched it fall. Once everything seemed calm she took a deep breath and picked up the satchel. She'll want to investigate it further once she was somewhere safer, perhaps when she makes camp for the night or something. Cleaning the blade with a sheet of paper Yomiko sheathed her katana and kept moving.

Blood splattered against Joseph's helmet as the bandit's head rolled away from his body. His swords fell from his hands as the corpse tumbled onto the ground dead as could be. His swords, while somewhat chipped and blacken with spots of rust, was still much better in quality than the rest of the brigand's weapons, and his armor, while not as good as plate, could possibly be worn as a gambeson. The dark metallic ring glistened in the night sky as if trying to catch Joseph's eye. There was no other threats at the moment though no doubt the carrion eaters would arrive soon, and they would be more than glad to add Joseph to the corpse pile.

@Zaphander

---

"Hmm. Giving orders already?" But sure enough Varrock turned away and watched the hobgoblin as he was charmed by Assallya's spell. Varrock wasn't too impressed though; he thought she was going to use something flashy to kill it or disable it. Leaving it distracted was... Underwhelming. Especially if this was all she could do. But Varrock could take advantage of this situation, in more ways than one. he picked up a rock and tested it's weight as he spoke plainly, not moving from his spot. "You're truly a fool if you think this is suppose to impress me. Now allow me to ask you again, with specifics this time. What can you offer me, and will that be enough for me not to simply toss this rock at the ogre's head to break your spell over him, and let him ravage you like a beast?" Varrock was satisfied with his stone and was ready to throw it.

@Assallya

---

As Roy fell into his delusional coma, more beasts arrived to eat the corpses of the horned wolves. Among the beasts was a tall, gangling man. Despite his seemingly human appearance the beasts did not bother him, and in fact they seem to only be here because he was, as he took out a blade to butcher the wolves and feed the pack. As they began to leave he turned towards the stables were Roy was hidden and smiled. He took out a small book from his pocket and wrote on it in blood. He had one of the crows that was following him leave the note near Roy, somewhere that he could see. On note was an image of a highly detailed rose drawn in blood with one word written underneath: Come. By the time Roy would awaken the man and the beasts would be gone.

@Searat

---

The night was getting darker for Yomiko. Plenty of ruins she can hide in if she choose to camp, though no where was ever truly safe in the ruins of Norn. However as she traveled she would come across a peculiar sight; undead fighting beasts. Seven zombie warriors facing off against two large boars, with tusks covered in serrated wire. The undead were particularly canny foes who utilized careful tactics and even evasive maneuvers against the boars, however most of their blades failed to cut into the boar's thick hides. It seemed like it was a stalemate between the undead and the beasts as the undead couldn't break the flesh, but the boars could not land a blow. Another thing of note was that the undead did not appear to be particularly random; while their armor was piece mail and falling apart, each one appear to have been wearing some sort of black cloth with a white symbol on it. It appeared to be a white sword with a circle going around the hilt. The boars as well had something carved into their hides, a sort of rose emblem. What shall the kitsune do?

@Norschtalen

Roy's prone form lurched and jolted up in cold sweat. His heart was hammering inside of his chest and his lungs took shallow breaths, while his body trembled. To the outside observer, it seems that the musketeer was having a panic attack. He quickly scans the immediate area of the apparitions and illusions that had tormented him hours back. There were none left and he was alone in that musty decrepit stable. He rests his face into his palms and thought deeply to himself. 'I know that the curse is getting worse...but this was completely different.' He lifts his head to look at his hands. A number of black veins had appeared at his finger tips, but they were less than an inch long and he still retained his lively skin color. 'If the mages in Briston were correct, I would have at least a half year until...until the curse took me. Though judging by this and the intensity of the illusions, I would say I barely have a month and a half left.' His memory unintentionally goes back to the illusion of his grotesque double.

He shakes away the thought and starts to stand; he had wasted enough time worrying about the curse rather than searching the ruins for a cure. He then notices the small piece of parchment paper near his person and picks it up. There drawn is a detailed image of a rose...drawn in browned blood. The writing below the drawing caught his attention. It had simply stated "COME." Roy glares at the note before crumpling it up and tossing it aside. Someone was taunting him...may the divines have mercy on the man for he will not.

Roy is now heading near the ruins proper.

The blonde elven woman almost missed a step in her dance. She simply hadn't been expecting that reaction. Wizards would have respected and appreciated the concept of using a weaker spell to defeat an opponent. The marshaling of power was of the utmost importance to a wizard. More-so since magic was more fleeting, draining from the land but the hedge knight wouldn't know about the wizard community's darkest secret.

For a moment she considered trying to get him to look upon her, to befuddle him as well, but he'd likely be too smart for that. She wished she could look him in the eyes to better gauge his intentions but unfortunately her new "companion" was wisely not looking in her direction. Should she state that she could bind him to her will, making him her thrall? She suspected not. He might not like a lingering threat like that and simply chuck the rock.

"By Sharess' tits," Assallya swore profanely as she slid her foot along the edge of the wagon's roof in her latest movement that drew attention to the slenderness of her legs, "Can you not count? You defeated but three of their number so far and I defeated more than a half score! I can also identify items of magic, translate ancient texts, and probably a dozen things you cannot which would be of aid in acquiring the treasures of this place."

Roy's journey into the ruins was not without some level of hardship, but nothing so deadly so much as repetitive. As much as it can be expected of a ruined city, must of it's infrastructure was in ruins and thus it left many perilous pathways where once there were easily traversal paths or streets. It seems like whatever disaster that turned Norn into a ruin had split the earth, as much of the obstacles Roy would face would be finding some way to avoid falling into a deep abyss to his presumed death. There were some paths he could attempt to take that typically ran the gamut of narrow, unstable, or ambiguous hostile. But those were simply the paths forward. Perhaps Roy could continue moving around the edge of the city, find more reliable footpaths to get deeper into the ruins. So long as he's willing to gamble facing off against other creatures who, like him, lack the courage to brave the perilous path through the ruined city and chance an encounter with one another.

The choice, as always, was his to make.

@Searat

---

Varrock tossed a rock that nearly beaned the ogre in the head, but Varrock simply walked a bit to his right and picked up another stone. He tested the weight, threw it again, and also narrowly avoided hitting the ogre. This time it was intentional as he picked up a third stone in order to break the beast from it's trance. [b]"Ah, don't you seem like such an almighty and powerful adventurer! Why, makes me wonder what purpose you possibly need the likes of me for. Let me be square with you, harlot: I'm not so naive to think that this is going to be some romantic tale of a sorcerer and her brave knight traversing this ruin finding treasures and their feelings. I don't trust you, especially with all this magic power you do have. I got no reason to keep you alive even if you're useful. So unless you got something you can give me now," Varrock raised the stone to throw again. "You can talk to that ogre."

@Assallya

"I got no reason to keep you alive."

Varrock's words echoed inside her head. Based on his words and attitude it seemed like he was going to kill her regardless of what she offered him.

Assallya sighed. This ruffian was truly bereft of foresight. She pirouetted, continuing her dance as she studied the back and side of his happy-faced helmet. She had to lest the ogre sized goblin escape her spell's effect. For a moment she considered stopping, rendering herself invisible and thus let the bastard extorting her deal with the creature alone. The only problem with that is that the rock could be tossed at her as easily as the monster.

"Fine," she stated with some resignation, "I assure you. I have no interest in wasting magic on someone I could more readily buy. Enchantments, geases, wear off and when they do all become enemies. It is coin that buys loyalty, not magic. I have two trade bars of gold hidden inside the wagon. Money doesn't interest me -only power. You may have one now and one additional if you accompany me through these ruins."

Roy gazes upon the dangerous path. Navigating the ruins was a tedious and exhausting task, though not as dangerous as expected. He gazes to the path in front of him and sees that the probability of him falling to his demise would exponentially become more likely if he chose to push through. Roy was in a rush and had little time to spare; but if he failed to traverse this treacherous path, he would condemn others to their grim fates. Roy refused to put their lives at stake for the sake of a faster path. He hefts his pack to make it less uncomfortable on his back and decides to skirt around the outer rings of the city to search for a better path. After a quick meal of dried fruit and a sip of his water, he begins his search for a better path.