The Wor Barricade stood strong as Za'Kul talked, but there were murmurs hidden behind the sound of collapsing rock. The tunnel behind them did in fact lead back into the low-tunnels. It wouldn't take too long to find his way back towards the Kul hearth-site. The Wor before him had never bothered to delve into the dank lower tunnels personally, either. There was some disagreement between the Lok'Sha that lined the back of the group.

Some of them had seen his actions earlier, even if only for a moment. Others thought of him as nothing more than a brutish low-born dark-skin. Very few held no alignment, and merely wanted to escape as soon as possible. But the Lok'Sha that stood in front of the group were the ones speaking for them. The ground beneath Za'Kul and the tunnel's mouth began to give way. He had but a few moments to take action. Those in the back of the group had already stepped aside, or retreated on their own into the lower tunnels. The few Lok'Sha in the front stood high with their chests puffed out, and their eyes narrowed at their inferior brother.

"Fill Wor's head with lies! Aim to kill us all!" One of the men shouted, "Kill Hi'Wor! Sabotage tunnels!"

The group behind the speaker grew thinner. It was just him, and two sympathizers that barred Za'Kul's exit now.

"Never let weak Kul, traitor Kul, pass!"

Behind Za'Kul, War'Da'Li's familiar voice roared across the cavern, overpowering the surrounding screams for only a moment as she slid down into the pit beneath her. A few of the Lok'Sha behind those who blocked Za'Kul's path stepped forward with pained expressions burned into their faces. They'd known her, more than they knew the son of the Wor's Chieftain.

"Weak will die here! Kul and Wor alike!"



The captain was fast. Had Paric moved even a moment later, he would have lost his entire arm. The blade slipped past his shoulder harmlessly despite Locke's split-second decision, nearly nicking the Eldi's shoulder in the process. He didn't stop for long. Something rumbled from the pit of the swordsman's stomach and began to rise as his muscles went dormant. He took a step back and reached for his mouth frantically, stifling a series of heavy coughs until something licked at the back of his ankles. The pain only lasted for a moment before his limbs went stiff like iron pipes. Somehow, despite the some-odd 20000 volts coursing through his body, Locke managed to stand upright with his sword clamped firmly in his right hand. He dropped the hand that covered his mouth and clenched a bloody fist and a few red droplets leaked from his lips. Had he bitten his tongue? If that were the case, how was his hand already covered in so much blood?

The Mop was not totally incapacitated, but his body wouldn't listen to him. The guards seemed ignorant of the little exchange in the alley way as well. This was the perfect chance for the two fugitives to escape, or...



"Haha, yeah, unsettling. That doesn't even scratch the surface," Zay chuckled nervously, "We were ambushed, like they knew we were coming down this path all along. Captain Geroldus over here had a similar experience on the southern trading route himself. Had his entire Caravan wiped out, and barely managed to crawl away with his life. If he hadn't found us-"

"I would have died," Neal grunted.

"Yeah. I'm surprised we were able to defend ourselves, honestly. Those cats bombed our caravan and killed both the Venbu in seconds. We were lucky that they underestimated us." Zay rolled his eyes. "We fought them off, and now we're stranded. I was about to order a patrol, but it's getting very dark. I don't doubt that those girls are still lurking nearby." He laughed to himself when he realized Rem had found a spot on the floor. "It suddenly feels a lot safer around here with you around though. Seems like a gift from above! Druids are an even rarer sight than Myti, out in the wilds... Want something to eat?" Without waiting for a response, he turned to Flin and waved towards the storage room. "Flin! Gett'em something to eat."



From behind the back wall of Lilith's Keg, the owner herself could be seen wrapping her snow-white apron around herself and tying the length of her hair back into a neat little bun. She caught a glimpse of Shane and smiled while mouthing the words 'one sec' as she prepped the kitchen with a little help from the kids.

_{'Go take his order while we get ready Peter!'}

On command, without as much as a peep of objection, Peter stampeded across the cobbled flooring and rushed to Shane's side with a pad of crust paper and a pencil. "Momma's out of meat. We can't do no steaks or nuffin' like that, sir," He mumbled. Peter was only 14 years old, and hardly the most refined speaker. He was actually a bit on the slow side, but that didn't stop him from trying his best around the kitchen.



The old man took a little longer than Nina expected.

"The soup," he wheezed, "That one! It's second from the top?" Nina froze as he spoke, waiting for Gybol to respond. For such a tough girl, she was pretty stubborn about acting like a child. With both hands she motioned towards the front of the cafe.

"You heard him boss," She whispered, "Second from the top!" Nina had no idea what that meant, and didn't want to go out to check what the old guy was referring to. Memorizing the menu wasn't part of her job, but she had a habit of changing her responsibilities on a day-to-day basis.

The old man cleared his throat and reached into his ragged coat for a small piece of paper, and a pencil, likely to occupy himself while he waited. While adjusting his glasses, he began to scratch the pencil across the paper carefully.

"Can you keep from using salt?" He shouted, "I can't have too much salt."

He scribbled something onto the paper quickly, and shoved it back into his coat. Then, without lifting his head again, he pulled out a small, dark stone. But when he looked into it, his brow lowered. The map gentle tapped it against the table and glared at it again. He brought it closer to his eyes, adjusted his glasses, and held it near his ear, only to lower it again. "Salt and... And no sugar! No sugar..." He glanced at the small, smooth orb and groaned. "Please."

With a soft glare toward Nina's behavior that could be subsituted for daggers, he steps out of the kitchen and glances over at the Menu. "Of course Sir. If you would like refreshment such as water or tea, Nina here will be able to assist you. And understood on the no salt! I'll add a little extra of something else for you." He then heads back into the kitchen, paying little mind to the fact that the man had his own issues. This will have to be a talk for later and a very polite warning that if she can't treat customers with respect, she can find another job somewhere else. Or likely fail to do so given her attitude. It was an odd choice of soup to not have salt, considering it was a meatbased kind of soup, however it wasn't anything a little extra seasoning couldn't fix.

Throwing on the fire for the stove, he got the broth going and quietly began to chop up a few greens, a bit of meat on the side. Who knew that there was more than what ever passed for chicken for common bird meat. Worked like a charm to get the stress out of a the day. He adds in a few of the greens and, cracking an egg, the rest of the protein to get through the actual day. Once the bowl was set up, he took out that special vial he had and added in one drop. Just to get the taste to slowly ease in and help the meal be a relaxing one. Wasn't salt based and it was more seasoning none of the less. He sets the soup on the waiter's hotplate and gets a second bowl prepared as a just in case.

Nina almost recoiled as her boss silently reprimanded her behavior. When he first left the kitchen to consult with the old dude, she took a few moments to compose herself. While he actually worked though, she never bothered to leave the kitchen. Everyone else had already left by the time Gybol was finished preparing his soup. It was just the old man. The horribly disfigured old man.

He seemed too obsessed with his little trinket to even notice Gybol. Instead of responding, he huffed and nodded to himself. But as the chef turned away, the ragged customer stole a glance. Nina took a moment to peer around the corner every once and a while, checking of the guy needed anything. But he would just return her stare with a gentle smile before returning to his little orb.

Nina didn't delay when the soup was ready, and quickly made her way out of the kitchen with the prepped tray in hand. "Here you are!" She said, twisting her voice to sound as sweet as she could manage. The old man looked down at the soup and put his orb on the tray without another word. Nina stood there for a moment as he began to eat, forcing herself to wait for... Well, anything really. These types always forgot to ask for a glass of water, but they always wanted something to drink. Even if the soup was... Well, soup. Food was stupid. Customers were stupid! Her eyes slowly tightened as the man started to slurp away, but she managed to bow and excuse herself silently.

"Miss," he called, "Is that man busy?"

"Mr Gybol?" She didn't really know how to react to that. A lot of people wanted to speak to him directly after tasting his food. "I can pass on your compliments if you-"

"No, I have a question."

"I could pass that along too-"

"If he doesn't want to talk to his customers, that's fine." There was a hint of judgement in his voice. Nina flinched. That wasn't it at all! She was conditioned to act as if Gybol was always busy. He couldn't waste time talking to every customer after all, even if the cafe was...

...Basically empty.

Gybol for the most part enjoys some food in the back, leaving dinner for Nina if she wanted since she was hiding out in the back. He didn't blame her, she was in a city where freaks were not exactly the fondest of sights and yet here she was working for one. As he listened in to the conversation, he grew a curious look. Sure people wanted to know just how in the world his flavor was the way it was, but that was his trade secret. "I'll be right out, sir. Give me just a moment to clean up a bit back here."

And clean he does, getting his apron set aside for now since it was as slow as it was. He was somewhat grateful for the relief. This morning had done him a lot of income, which will help later for his hunting trips. He makes his way out of the kitchen with a soft smile and makes his way to the table. He'll slide into a chair nearby, not really bothered that the old man was the way he was.

"How can I help you, was the food alright?"

The old man was mid-slurp when Gybol approached him, but offered a simple not. It was a strange taste to him, something completely alien to his usual eating habits. It reminded him of a time when he could freely indulge in salty foods and sweets, meals that were packed full of unhealthy seasonings. Part of him was curious as to how Gybol had managed to concoct a seasoning so deliciously similar, superior even superior, to salt. But he pushed that thought down immediately, lowered his spoon, and pointed at Gybol's necklace.

"Where'd you find that, son?"

Gybol for the most part watches the man enjoy his food. It's always nice to see that little line of reactions to how things taste for someone. His own kind of treat in a way. As the old man mentions the necklace. His hand instinctively goes over it for a moment and he could mentally recall the rotting bones that he had found this on. He exhales a bit as he leans back into his chair a bit.

"Found it on one of my trips out of town. Any particular reason why you'd like to know?"

@RyuShura

Paric's poorly planned and executed leap caused him to hit the cobbles hard. Even though the Eldi had landed on his clothed shoulder, he felt his skin being peeled away as he slid on the cobbles. The air was knocked from his lungs, forcing him to gasp for the air that stank of dead fish.

A loud crack and flash had occurred when Paric had impacted the ground. The power of Ayer's attack rushed through his entire body and even now he could feel the power in the air. So that device had allowed Ayer avid skill at wind magic, but, then... quite a strike using lightning. Yet, Paric saw as he rolled to his back, Mop was still standing. "Now," he said breathlessly, "that is impressive." With a cough, Paric got to his feet. Next to his feet was a stone, one that fit in his hand perfectly. Paric picked it up.

"Now," Paric began as he approached Mop, "I've had my fair share," he coughed, "of blood. So has my friend, I would think." He was now standing in front of the motionless man whose eyes still showed comprehension. "Maybe you will bleed out here in this terror of a town. Maybe you'll survive, found by some guard only happy, not from you being alive, but because he'll be rewarded." He coughed again, his lungs still recovering from his impact. "I do not care which way your destiny flows. I just want a damned drink." Without Malice, Paric raised the hand the stone was in and struck Mop on the side of the head.

Shane smiled back at Lilith, giving her a small nod. Despite his hunger, he didn't mind waiting. As Peter walked over, he listened closely and waited until the boy was finished speaking. "Oh, alright!" He replied kindly, to the fact that no meat dishes were available. He paused and looked a little embarassed. "Ehh...what's your cheapest dish?" He wheezed. The boys truly did their best to serve their customers, which was something Shane appreciated. The food was always brought quickly, too.

Gybol's explanation was short and sweet. It wasn't what this old guy was looking for, though. Not even close. Without another word, he reached into his jacket and rummaged around for something while mumbling to himself incoherently. Then he pulled something out and gently placed his hand on the table, letting a thin silver chain leak out of the crevices between his fingers. When he pulled his hand away, it revealed a small amulet almost identical to Gybol's in its make, from the gemstone to the metal used to craft it. The man coughed and reached into his coat again, pulling out the same piece of paper from earlier.

"You don't see people in the suburbs carrying around Magical items like this one non-nonchalantly," He mumbled. The man moved one hand towards the tray that held his soup, and picked up the small black orb that he'd dropped earlier. "It's also fairly uncommon to see humans with a skin-pigment mutation in Thoris, let alone Marrenfall. Magic is outlawed in all of the suburbs. Carrying around contraptions like these is liable to get you arrested." The old man looked up at Gybol quietly, put the small orb back in the tray, and slowly continued to eat away at his soup. "Didn't your mother ever teach you to leave suspicious things alone?"

The old man picked his words very carefully, but to the average person, it might have just seemed like he was scolding a young man for taking something that wasn't his and putting himself in danger. But to speak with too much detail in a situation like this was not the wisest idea. After all, that old guy was likely carrying way more illegal contraband that Gybol had ever seen in his life here in the suburbs.



Mop recoiled from the blow as the stone struck the side of his head. But it was not fully because of Paric's strike, even though it drew blood. In the time that he'd spent to lecture Locke, the captain had regained a fair amount of control over his muscles. Both of his legs were still frozen in place, but his knees would bend. As the rock crashed against his temple, Mop rose lurched his bloody hand and clamped onto Paric's arm, holding him in place with an absurdly powerful grip around his wrist.

"Ay ay, speak up, mate," Locke gurgled through a fair amount of blood. He rose his head, letting his filthy hair fall past his face to reveal an innocent smile. Blood leaked from the corners of his mouth and stained his bottom teeth, but he spoke relatively clearly, and his tongue wasn't bleeding. "I'm a lil drunk ma'self!"

He slowly rose his sword towards Paric's arm, still having a little trouble controlling his muscles from the after effects of Ayer's electrical blast. But he managed all the same.

"But I agree with ya. Maybe I should have a present ready for the guy who'a finds me!" He gently placed the sharp edge of his blade against Paric's forearm. "You won't be needin' this where you're going, will yeh?"

Paric's heart dropped as his wrist found itself in a vise-like grip. The world was that way, though. All one had to do was show was a hint of weakness and the world would take a shit on that individual. Then again, in a way, Paric had been greedy by not taking the chance to leave. But Mop had recovered fast, fast enough to possibly raise an alarm. After all, the strength in that grip was a testament to Mop's remaining strength.

The Eldi's only chance of avoiding injury, as unlikely as that seemed, would be to act quickly while Mop was still weakened. Paric, however, knew what he now faced. Was he ready for the outcome? Perhaps, as it would keep him alive. In a moment, quicker than a heartbeat, Paric made his decision.

"I have another hand." Immediately following his statement, Paric's free hand twitched, releasing a stream of golden mage-fire into Mop's chest, the fire was bent around Mop and behind him so it would not harm Paric himself.

Lyullia didn't say much as the Druids arrived at the Caravan. They didn't appear to be hostile, given the fact that they knocked politely instead of trying to force their way inside.

The fact that Druids showed up made Lyullia feel a bit safer. She hadn't expected anything not-hostile to be nearby, let alone people that were actually friendly. Still, they were quite intimidating, and for a moment it looked like an argument was about to erupt between them and some of the crew, but that fortunately didn't happen.

Lyullia didn't say anything as the captain began talking about what happened, she'd gladly let him do all the talking while she just kept an eye on their Myti prisoners. She knew it was likely that there were still more Myti around, and that they weren't quite safe yet.

Flin groaned loudly in an annoyed way in response to Zay's order. But he still stood up. "Yea, yea.." He muttered, and wandered off into the storage room. There were still some supplies scattered about, and those that were placed around neatly by Pyra were out of order. He began to search for one of the crates holding food, until his foot bumped into something. He looked downwards, and suddenly smiled as he recognised what he found. He managed to find his guitar, which luckily seemed mostly unharmed despite some cracks here and there. Of course, it had always looked like a piece of crap anyway. Despite that, it made Flin feel more cheerful. He put it on his back and kept searching for food.

Eventually, he found one of the crates labeled "Food Supply". He popped the top of the crate off, which was designed in such a way that it would be easy to open and close at any time for anyone. He reached into it, and grabbed two food packages filled with potato's, vegetables and meat. He closed the crate again and left the storage room, carrying the packages. He placed one on the ground beside Rem, and one on the side of the round table closest to Ellorei. "Here you are." He said with a smirk. He sat back down on his chair and yawned. The man had only slept for about 4 hours, after all.

Daelin dropped his aim with the crossbow and slumped against the wall. "I could definitely go for a snack." He mentioned. Zay seemed to trust these druids so Daelin would for now but he'd be cautious. There was nothing sane about living alone in the wilds with beasts that eviscerated normal men without batting an eye. There was a certain hushed awe toward them. It would be great if their help was genuine. Time would have to tell.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________

"I appreciate the offer but I'll pass." Rem answered as food was offered to them. "It's astounding we didn't hear the explosion from where we were. Ell and I were occupied with something rather nearby. It wasn't until we were close enough to hear your voices that we realized people were out here at this time of night." He explained. The caravan itself was in a dire position without any way to move.

Rem stroked rubbed at his chin as he mulled over what to do. "Is there any way to get the caravan moving or are the wheels completely out? If the caravan can't move we'd have to stay or escort you somewhere to ensure your crew survives." Rem frowned. "There is however not a possibility for me to stay. I have pressing matters elsewhere. If you can repair the caravan I might be able to help, otherwise it's off to the closest village for you until my task is settled." Rem concluded.

"We could perhaps manipulate some branches from the trees if they need wheels. Even so, it doesn't matter if their caravan can be repaired." Ellorei motioned towards the front of the caravan, "Their venbu are dead. Unless we found them another pair that would be amiable to the job."
Despite her intense curiosity, she'd have to leave with Rem. She didn't know how long he would allow her to learn from him but she was going to take what she could get. So, for the time being, she was going to default to the elder druid's decision.

"I'm sure Lyullia can deal with the repairs without too much trouble. It's just a matter of replacing a few parts here and there, checking the Caravan's integrity, stuff like that. But one of our Venbu was killed in the accident, and the other... Well, it's like your little friend here says. They've passed one. Even if we got things in working order, we've got no way to get moving. Hell, if the Venbu were still alive, we wouldn't even have a pilot to get us where we're going!" Zay looked around the Caravan at everyone else as he spoke, still without a single idea to get them back on their path. "If you're offering to escort us somewhere safer though, we can't possibly turn that down!" The Captain waved Flin away when the food was denied, and then noticed that he'd just brought a bunch of raw veggies. He gave him a disapproving glare and sighed.

"Excuse me to interject," Noru cut in, "But we're still missing a companion. A woman. She was flung off of the cart in the explosion, and we've yet to search for her body. The girl in question was also our pilot. Would it be possible to allow us a little while to search the pass?" He looked at Ell, and then back to Rem. "If one of you could stay behind with me, while the rest of us go on ahead, that would be even better."

"Split up?" Neal grunted.

"Druids," Zay chirped, "Read a book."

"I wouldn't mind helping you look. Rem has a better grasp of the area than I do as far as villages and the like go, but I have you covered traversing the wilds. One of the many pluses of being apart of a nomadic tribe." Ellorei paused a moment looking thoughtful as she dug her toes in the dirt a bit more, "Besides, the trees are a bit restless since your commotion, they're up to the challenge."
She wanted to help aid them, even if they were soldiers, they were still alive and that meant they were of Gaia. Plus the idea of someone being left behind even in death seemed to sad. Her smile widened not all joking about the trees even now she could feel their songs, asking for a task. As she sent returning energy of positivity her eyes glowed faintly green.

Locke pulled his blade down as soon as he could manage a motion with any strength, around the same time that the brilliant flames encompassed his body. The sword sliced through Paric's flesh until it hit bone, but didn't severe straight through the man's arm as his opponent back away in recoil from the blast. The puddle behind him splashed, and he lost his footing, losing grip of his sword while falling back onto the hard ground, soundless behind the swooshing of flames. Paric was bleeding heavily from his arm now, but Mop was frantically rolling around in water, trying to put the fire out as quickly as possible. At this point, he might have sounded some kind of alarm, but when he tried to scream, whether it be out in pain or for aid, he instead began to cough and gasp for air. He flopped helplessly from side to side like a fish out of water. The guards didn't think anything of it, even though they could hear the muffled echoes of their captain's coughing fit.

Intuition--that was what the Kul had above the larger and myriad tribes of Smor’Gen’Blok. To read a body before acting was how he and his people had not been crushed by the tribes above them. Now, with precious time fading, Za’Kul had saw an out; he had gotten the remainder of the Wor Lok’Sha behind this aggressor to budge. The screams of Wor’Da’Li could not be abused as a point of sympathy, though; no, the Wor would see right through that. Whether she could actually be saved was beyond Za’Kul’s capacity for comprehension right now.

“Fighting? This is not time for fight. Kul cannot crush Wor even now, never could" a little appeal to the fiery warriors in these Wor tribesman always helped, "but Wor own people dying because of stupid feud. I help one of yours, you help me.” Za’Kul turned and looked over his shoulder,

“She saved if quick. More talk, and she die. I try helping her, will keep helping Wor if Wor let Kul go.”

His offer for help held no deceit.

Flin glanced at Zay and rose his shoulders briefly for a moment. He wasn't sure what the captain expected. The storage room was a mess, and it wasn't like there was a kitchen on board to properly prepare meals. He wasn't much of a cook, anyway. He grabbed the food and put it back where he'd found it. He headed back towards the group. "Considering Pyra is knocked out and Lyullia would probably have a hard time standing, I think I should be one of the people to search for Marilyn. The captain took on several Myti at once, so he's most likely exhausted as well. I believe that Neale, Daelin and one of the druids would probably be the best choice to come with me." Flin said calmly. He also hoped he'd get the chance to observe a druid in action, which wasn't something he'd see every day.

Rem nodded in affirmation of the idea. It shouldn't be too difficult to discover the fate of their pilot. He hoped on the inside that it wasn't death but that was a slim chance considering the state of the rest of the caravan. "I suppose I can agree with the sentiment." He stood up and stepped outside. There he stood, waiting, looking into the forest around them. "Ell, you can go ahead and guide them on their search. I'll stay and watch the others." Several broken arrows scattered on the ground from Zay's fight caught his eye. "After all, their enemies could still be out there." He mused.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________

Daelin responded enthusiastically. "I'll go! If anyone'll head out there I should." He offered. The tracker was the closest to Marilyn when the explosion happened. By happen-chance he avoided any real injury. Daelin hefted the crossbow in his hands and stood straight. He shot an approving nod to Zay.