-- Half Past 9pm.
- Mentions: @Mataus

Ayer heaved a long sigh, both relieved and frustrated at the result of this little skirmish. It was definitely not what he planned, not in the slightest. He rushed over to the stuttering, flailing captain, staring at the burnt shaggy hair with a bit of shame and disappointment at the unnecessary suffering. His eyes narrowed in guilt at his pain.

He stripped off his jacket and covered the man with it. He didn't want him to catch a cold, on top of all this.

"I know what you did was for the best... but..." he sighed, "Whatever, at least he's not dead... And you're not dead, too. Still, I think we could've avoided that if we jus-- Ouch!"

As he spoke, Ayer suddenly winced, letting out a weak yelp as he turned to see what stung him. Without his thick insulation jacket, the brimming hot metal of the condenser unit had seeped through the side of his pants and threatened to brand his hip. An oversight. Usually, he didn't have to be concerned about so many things at once. The large, perforated exhaust pipes that lined alongside the main unit now appeared to leak a faint stream of steam, and the jeweled cores that outfitted the intricate piece were glowing faintly. A concern filled his pale eyes. Was it already melting down? Did he used too much mana, already? Or did it get damaged somehow in all of this? Ayer quickly loosened the strap on the steaming condenser, to allow it to hang, and popped open the panel to check the pulse of the Ars.

A hiss of steam spilled out to his face. Ayer let out a short cough, flapping the warm smoke away with an annoyed frown. But his urgency soon faded after that. The meter was 2 out of 5 now. Must've been an accidental back-up of fumes. He'll have to check the pipes later.

Phew, there is still enough for now. But at this rate, however...
"I can still be of use if... things like this happen again, but I can't risk much more than maybe one or two more charges, depending."

The blonde stepped outwards until he can peek around the corner of the alleyway to the outside. There didn't seem to be a noticeable shift in the commotion of the town. "Looks like they have not seen us yet... let's get on one of those ships before anything else happens. Sound good to you, mon ami?"

...

Za'Kul's words didn't scratch the density of Wor's blockade. The frontal Lok'Sha ignored him and strengthened their pose.

"Words mean nothing! Help weak Lok'Sha and die at their side! Pitiful!" A hand reached out from behind the man who spoke for his people. He turned around slowly, but his head spun back around, along with his entire body. He was launched off the ground by one of his kin, and landed at Za'Kul's feet, grunting in pain as he skid across the uneven stone floor. Behind him, one of the larger Wor Tribesmen stood with his fist outstretched.

"Ku'La! What you doing!?"
"Treachery!"

"Only treachery be your disregard for sisters and brothers," Ku'La grunted, "Only pitiful nature is that in hearts of Pure Bloods of Wor. Tribe fall to pieces and you concerned with pettiness. Young Kul speak truth." The man pulled his fist back and darted past Za'Kul without making eye contact. A moment later, two more men, and one woman, followed suit, each one a different shade of beige, all wielding tools around their hips for forging and mining. The remaining Lok'Sha that had united to block the Kul's path were taken aback, and softened their stand as their supposed leader lay on the ground before Za'Kul, slowly picking himself up. The Lok'Sha behind them stepped aside, as if to invite Za'Kul forward. They didn't feel they had any right to block his path after that.

But, the man on the ground thought differently, quickly reaching out for Za'Kul's ankle with one hand as the four tribe members rushed past Za'Kul.

"Poison! You are poison!"



"If we're really agreed, I'll go as well," Noru insisted, "My treatments are finished. If anyone is injured by some cruel twist of fate out in the field, my presence is an asset. I have plenty of mana and stamina to spare as well." Neal lowered his right arm and flexed it a few times, considering his options. "Neal should not be moving around to much, anyways. One wrong move, and you're likely to injure your arm to a point where I won't be able to fix it."

"Fine by me," Neal huffed, "I'm still a little tired myself." His reluctance in trusting the two strangers was slowly fading. Despite being a man that was absolutely set in his ways, the overwhelming praise that these Druids received in lieu of his doubts was difficult to argue with. He wasn't fond of it, but for now, he had no reason to judge them so harshly. Zay nodded to himself and stood up. The Captain lowered his bunk and began to climb into it.

"Then it's settled," He grunted while heaving himself up, "Search the area for as long as you can. As long as possible, preferably. It would be good to let everyone get some rest before we head too far away from the Caravan." He eyed Daelin and nodded in his direction from his bunk. "I know I could use a nap."

Paric had cut off his spell as soon as Mop's sword cut into his arm, jarring the bone. His hand was currently clasped over the wound, and blood was oozing through his fingers. Mop's strike had caused pain to reverberate throughout Paric's entire body, but shock had dulled the pain some. He was sure that the sword had even cut partially into the bone. Paric gritted his teeth as he thought about using his own magic to cauterize the wound. The blood loss was not an issue yet, but if he didn't seal it soon it would become a deadly problem. "Shit, shit, shit," he said breathlessly through gritted teeth. Cauterizing the slash in such a filthy place would lead to infection. He would need to get Ayer to do something about it.

He heard Ayer shouting that Paric could have done something else, but he didn't quite care about that anymore. The bleeding Eldi looked up from the puddle of blood under his bleeding arm and saw a sight that almost made him laugh. Ayer was currently caring for Mop. He had even gone as far to throw some sort of clothing on the guy, who had already rolled around in water to stop the flames. Damnit, Ayer, Paric thought, you're going to get us killed. That man isn't about to forgive us, he tried to kill me as soon as he saw me. He didn't want to say anything about it though. He needed Ayer's device. "Ayer! Can," he coughed, "can your device mend this?" He raised his arm, blood running down it as soon as it went vertical.

Truthfully, the last time Paric had been in this much pain was when he was first learning how to control fire. His spell went out of control and burnt half his arm. Some powerful Eldi healers had fixed him up. Now Paric was in a hostile place, with a slashed arm, and still didn't see salvation in sight. Not to mention the guards. I bet they're on their way. They must have heard something, Mop was coughing loud enough to wake up everyone in the area.

-- Half Past 9pm
- Mentions: @Mataus

The scientist looked at the wound and shook his head in thought, "No, I'm afraid... My tools, though grand and powerful as they may be, aren't capable of complex magic like that... Wait, maybe I can...! No, that won't work either. Unless you are able to revive your dead flesh after I flash freeze it... Umm, Let me see what I can do..."

He was more an arcane scientist than any sort of physician, but basic first aid was a necessity when traveling alone across the continent. His eyes scanned the area briefly before he moved over and picked up the bottle Mop dropped earlier. It was cracked in half. Not useful anymore. He then stepped over to where the guard, Phillip, was lying, ruffling in his pockets a bit. What he found was some crumbled money, a few dried orange slices saved in a wrap, and a barely functional pocket watch.

Ayer frowned a little at the lackluster contents, reluctantly stuffing them in his own pocket. He then tore the guard's sleeve off, from the shoulder, using the edge of the knife hooked to his side.

He turned. But something stopped Ayer, his eyes furrowing even more. He sighed and turned back again, on a dime. He tossed the torn rag over his shoulder and fished around in the pockets of the guard once more. While he retrieved the pocket watch, Ayer slid out a dial, a miniature screw, from a slot in his metal headpiece and tucked it into a slot on the side. The watch popped open and he soon found the issue. There was a clog of residue in the gears, not to mention the balance wheel was off-center, the reason why it was ticking the hands off-measure. This thing was probably really old, maybe even important to the fellow. He swiveled the little tool in seemingly bored fashion with a meandering, almost bored expression. This was trivial to him. In a few seconds, Ayer had cleaned the internal mechanisms and bent the metal of the balance back into place. Checking that it worked now, he slipped it back into the unconscious guard's pocket.

"I'll take these as payment for fixing your watch. Thanks, and your welcome..."

He hurriedly went up to Paric, opening the snack wrap and shoving an orange towards the mouth of the Eldi, "Open your mouth. This'll be sweet... or not, I don't really know. But it'll distract from the pain. Not to mention, help you stabilize from the loss of blood."

Ayer then began to wrap the wound with the torn sleeve, trying to put a stiff pressure against the gaping hole where the blade entered.

"Well, that's the best I can do. You feeling any better?" his eyes narrowed, looking at the bloody rag, "There isn't much we can do about it now. Let's get on one of those ships, and quick. Once we're out of danger, we can worry about infections and whatnot. There might be some first-aid somewhere in one too. There usually is, at least."

...

Flin nodded, and headed over towards the front of the caravan. He leaned against the wall in his usual lazy way, looking back at the others. "Alright...Daelin, can you lead the way? You have the most experience with scouting in our crew." He said to his companion, and then looked over at Ellorei. So the male druid was called Rem, and the other one was called Ell, apparently. "Uh...Ell, was it? I think you should stick close to Daelin, as I assume that you're the one who would be lighting the area up with your magic." Flin stated. "I'll be right behind you." He added. He waited until the two would begin moving out, ready to follow them.

Gybol for the most part just sits there with a raised eyebrow. He glances down at the identical amulet that's in the old man's hand and oddly cracks a smile. He reaches up to double check that his own necklace was on, sliding it between his fingers before finally speaking up "No, she wasn't around to teach. And no, I wasn't quite aware of its magical nature since it isn't magical, I just found it a pretty trinket." He tucks his necklace back under his shirt, his eyes more carefully looking toward the black orb before back at the old man

"As for me being the color I am, well, Dad claims he had it made with a rainbow and nine months later a heavily confused Myti came out of the woods with a midget and a baby me." Despite the casualness of his attitude and the clear making fun of himself, his posture is tense and guarded.

Paric watched in silence as Ayer's hands seem to turn into a blur. Or was that blur a cause blood loss? No, he was just being over dramatic. Within moments Ayer had the watch back together and had already slipped it into Philip's pocket. He nodded his head. "Impressive," Paric grunted, still holding the gash in his arm. Paric was sure that Ayer did not have any noticeable magical ability now, but the skill Ayer has shown with machinery was magical in itself.

Then Ayer was moving towards him with an orange and some cloth he had taken from Mop's clothes. Paric gladly took the orange, taking a bite immediately, savoring its sweet juices. "Tha-" his speech was cut off as Ayer pulled the cloth tight over his arm. "Damn! That hurt." He relaxed his arm and took another bite of the orange, hoping its natural sugars would give him some energy for the next stage in their escape. He cleared his throat: "so, friend, it seems no one has come to investigate." He glanced over at the entrance to their little backstreet. "We should make our way over to the docks... I need aid and a way out of this cursed town."

Philip remained unconscious as Ayer rummaged through his pockets. But Locke had not yet passed out. He still writhed underneath his coverings in pain with burn marks scarring his face, arms, and upper body. Despite that, he still tried to speak to the two fugitives. But it wouldn't do much. His voice was completely drowned out by the blood pooling in his mouth. Each time he spoke, Locke was forced to stop himself and clear his throat with a sputtering series of coughs. As Ayer and Paric walked off, he finally gave up and put his full focus on evening out his breaths. This wouldn't be where he died.



The guards, after dispersing from Mop's little performance, returned to their patrol routes. If Ayer and Paric were planning on taking the streets, or continue through the alleys, they would have eventually spotted them for sure. But the boardwalk was massive, and men were limited. It was only a matter of time before they saw an opportunity to scurry across undetected, and find themselves a selection of boats. The Nillium's Fang towered overhead and cast a dark shadow on the men, while several smaller boats, usually tasked with patrol, fishing, or small deliveries, were lined up on the opposite end of the dock with nobody to guard them. However, high above both men, there were several patrols keeping a close eye on the pride of their fleet. Julius Barrel stood, or rather, sat among them on top of the cabin's roof with a wad of herb stuck in his cheek. The Nillium captains were not adverse to drug use, but Locke and Julius were especially addicted to their substance of choice. Where Locke preferred a hard liquor, Julius had a taste for a variety of mildly hallucinogenic plants found throughout the entirety of the Lemow Forest around Leias. Today's herb of choice was fizzle root. It dampened the man's sense of hearing significantly, and in return, he lost a great deal of feeling in both of his arms. Experimenting while on-duty was strictly prohibited. But Julius didn't care. After all, he was practically the strongest person in the entire city.

The boats that Ayer and Paric had easy access to were all large enough to fit 10 men comfortably. They all had cabins, and arcane propulsion devices. For such an unkempt, and low-tech city, Nillium was host to quite advanced naval hardware. They were efficient enough that anyone with mana could easily fuel them, and simple enough for anyone with even a narrow understanding of Human-tech to pilot. All of the boats looked similar though. There were no paint jobs or intricate designs to be found along their hulls, and their cabins all looked fairly similar with differing levels of wear along the edges. But between the 4 or 5 larger boats, a much smaller vessel was situated almost underneath the 10-foot high docks. The only thing keeping it in place was a length of rope wrapped around one of the pole. It had no anchor, and drifted casually in and out of sight, under the dock and then away into the water. The water itself looked pretty deep too. If they were unfortunate enough to fall in, the men wouldn't be walking to shore.

From where they stood, looking out into the sea would not show them much. They were on main-land after all. The only other landmass in sight was barely visible as a silhouette, and from there, they could see even larger boats making their way back to shore. If they wanted to escape via the water, they may have had a hard time doing so.



The man let out a wheezy chuckle.

"Your stories are as colorful as your skin, sonny," he bleated before taking in another spoonful of soup. Nina slowly backed away from the weird conversation between old men, retreating into the kitchen to find herself a little meal. The man looked towards the girl briefly. As she disappeared into the back room, his smile melted away.

"Tell me where you got that necklace, boy," he grunted aggressively. He wanted details, and didn't sound like the type to walk away unsatisfied.



"Cheapest?" Peter mumbled, "All meals cost the same, now. We'll get you whatever you want!"

Lilith finally peered out of the kitchen and started to work into the bar-top with a ragged cloth, rubbing it down until even the grungy wood sparkled.

It had been a long time since Paric had laid eyes on the docks. He had, on occasion, gone to the docks to purchase alcohol before the greedy merchants of Nillium got to it, but those visits had not been made sober. He did remember the smell, though. The smell of sea water mixed with dead fish, mixed with something foul. "I wish I had some memory of these ships or the distribution of guard." Paric scanned the area again, noticing several gaps in the guard's patrols, but he still could only see so much in the meager moonlight.

It didn't take long to figure out which ships were protected and which ships were left unguarded. Any person with some brains could guess that the large ships were the most protected, while the small, numerable, and insignificant ships would not be as important. However, taking a ship of any size would still attract attention. Especially if Nillium guards maintained a record book that kept track of all incoming and outgoing ships. No, if they wanted to remain unseen, then they would need something smaller than even those 10 man ships. However, he did not see anything like that, not next to the tall dock at least. Perhaps the height of the dock is hiding something smaller. If someone was crazy enough to attach a small boat to such a tall dock, that is.

Paric was about to talk it over with Ayer, but he saw his chance. The guards had left a small window in which the two could make a move towards the 10 man ships. He reached over and tugged Ayer's shirt. "C'mon, were going for those small ships over there. Keep an eye out for something smaller, though." Then he started on his path, staying in the shadows and keeping his head ducked. With luck the two would find the small ships not only unguarded, but also vacant. How they would sail the ships he did not know. Paric had heard a sailor boasting about the tech that the Nillium ships possessed, but he had not listened too much. If there was tech then Ayer could figure it out. If that tech needed mana, then he could supply plenty. Hopefully it is as simple as that, Paric thought.

The question of where they would go was not completely available to Paric. He figured that they would make their way out of Nillium and then North to a city such a Leias.

Shane smiled at Peter, but felt a little nervous. He wasn't sure if that meant that the price on the cheaper dishes went up, or the more expensive ones went down. If prices went up, he wouldn't be able to afford a dish. "Alright, I think I'll go with a vegetable dish then!" He told Peter cheerfully. His stomach roared softly, as if a bear cub was crying out for it's mother. Shane looked down and glared at his stomach. "Shhh!" He told it, holding his index finger in front of his mouth to signal for it to be quiet.

Peter was a little confused, but he knew that his mama would be able to make sense of it in an instant.

"I heard, Pete," Lilith called out, not lifting her head from the bar-top, "Help your brother with the stove. Farmer's lunch." Peter spun around and nodded before darting into the back room. He knew every dish on the menu based on his mother's cute little nicknames for the food. Sometimes they were based on the customers, other times it was something weird like farmer's lunch or sweet and sour. He'd never get it wrong, regardless. His awkward habit of memorizing obtuse queues was he number one talent, after all. Hopefully that would help him when he got older. "You can sit at the bar if you want, Shane," Lilith offered, "I don't know how many times I gotta tell you I don't bite."

Gybol watches Nina go, he doesn't really blame her. In his mind this is getting ugly quickly and her safety was more important than his. He has more than one trick up his sleeve if this goes where he expects. As the old man pressures with his question, he keeps his more neutral, relaxed expression. "I told you, I found it on one of my trips. If you're not happy with that answer, I'd offer a refund but that isn't food. If you think turning the guards on me is going to get you anywhere, I assure you I'm in good favor, and in positive standing even with the necklace. Is there anything else? Or shall I disappoint you again?"

Gybol's answer was completely unsatisfying. But the old guy expected as much. "I'm too old for this," He grunted, "But rest assured that I have no intention of ratting you out. The last thing I need are Marrenfall's OMAS goons running around the Suburbs like a pack of hungry dogs. Those idiots are..." He paused tapped his spoon against the edge of the bowl quietly, losing focus for a moment. He'd forgotten why he'd even come to the Suburbs for a split second, almost going totally comatose in his chair before shaking the dark feeling off. He'd just spoken negatively of Marrenfall's Organization of Magical Artifacts and Science without a second thought. A lot of citizens would avoid him for holding such a negative opinion like that. The organization was one of, if not the largest force keeping the Suburbs magic-free, and safe. Not many would take kindly to someone referring to them as idiots.

"I apologize for my tone." He reached for his hand and placed in on the table, revealing his balding cranium. "Mister Gybol," He lowered his hand, picked up his copy of Gybol's pendant, and lifted it. "What you are wearing is either a magical artifact, or a very astute replica... Most wouldn't be able to tell the difference at a first glance. The garnet typically has a sparkle to it, something I've an eye for after staring at the same jewel every day for the past twenty two years. It's a sparkle that your pendant lacks. If I didn't know any better, I would believe you were telling the truth... But I'm inclined to think otherwise when I look at this jewel." He rotated the pendant and nodded. "This jewel is most certainly enchanted. The garnet usually glimmers eternally, as long as it's supplied with mana regularly. But since I've sat down, I've noticed two things." He put the pendant back on the table, and picked up the small dark orb from his tray once more. "Not only have my artifacts ceased function, but no matter how much I urge my nodes to act, I cannot make that girl faint." He glared at Gybol intensely with his one good eye and moved the small jewel to one side. "Mister Gybol, I am an old man without access to his magic. I am in no position to threaten you or your young employee, nor do I have any desire to do so. Whatever magic that this establishment is enacting to dampen my abilities and tools is none of my concern. But if that amulet is indeed a pair to my own, then I must insist you share with me the details of how it came to be in your possession." The man eyed the back room, making sure to keep his voice low enough so that Nina was none the wiser. It was a success. That stupid girl was already face-deep in the leftovers that Gybol had provided. The old man put his trinkets away slowly after he finished speaking, and sighed deeply.

Shane smiled at Peter as he walked away, and looked over at Lilith. He chuckled a little. "Sorry, I thought it might bother ya so early in the morning." He said, standing up from his chair. He made sure to place it back in it's original position at the table, and walked over to Lilith. He sat down on a stool at the bar. "Nice morning, huh? Ain't a single cloud in the sky." He mused. Lilith was certainly dedicated to keep everything clean, that was for sure. But he didn't mind. The atmosphere was still a lot better here than it was at the square.

-- 9:37pm
- Mentions@Mataus

Though the battle ended rather quickly, Ayer still felt jitters of adrenaline. He tried to keep his breathing stable as they skulked across the port.

Upon being notified of the opening the patrol, he nodded and scurried after his friend, keeping a concerned look out as the cross the main walk towards the edges of the harbor by the ocean water where the boats were tethered. They were closing in to the first stage of their escape now. Ayer was familiar with how the arcane engines and rotors worked on most vessels, and judging by how they looked from afar, there wasn't any concern for any sort of odd technology he hasn't come across before.

"Smaller... Okay... umm, let's see."

He agreed with this sentiment. His eyes caught sight of the fleet's pride, a large cruiser compared to the rest. It can be safe to assume that their largest ship was also their fastest, and so stealing any of the lesser vessels will only lead to a chase they cannot hope to win. They would need to rely on slipping past without alerting. That would be the best bet.

As Ayer looked across their selection, keeping his head low as he practically crawled, he noticed a slight bobbing in the water and ducked his head over the side to see a rather small dingy in between the other vessels. Base don how unassuming it looked, and how it's sleek size probably meant it didn't have a motor of any sort, he was unsure if they would be able to pilot it properly. He also doubted if they would be able to reach the other shore in time before the Nillium patrols would discover the aftermath of what happened back in the alleyway leading to the harbor with the captain Mop. If that happened, stealth would not be a correct trade for speed. Thus, they would need a blend of both for this plan to succeed. Luckily...

Ayer pointed down to it, tapping the Eldi on the shoulder, "There... a small dingy in the water. It doesn't look like it has an engine for a rotor, but it's probably our best chance of slipping out unnoticed. However, it's pretty far down. And the thing is, while I don't mind swimming, water doesn't fare well for my Ars. My crafts won't break, per se, but getting water in some of the auxiliary units causes some complications with the mechanisms that'll increase risk. I might not be able to use Wax Jury right away if we fail the jump."

He looked for a scaffold or a set of protruding nails, where they can climb easier. "And for my plan to work, that cannot be the case..."

...

Ellorei allowed for the one called Daelin to stand beside her. This was going to be interesting, to say the least, so far she learned that soldiers were not as battle hungry as her parents had told her. It was at her great relief to her that it was the case. "Ell works," the druid smiled, "I can tell you that the chances of finding your friend should be good, alive or not I can't promise. Rem, shall we meet back here?" Ellorei called over her shoulder before she turned to look at Daelin Flin, "What direction did the blast send debris. That should be a good place to start."

Feeling the tap, Paric looked to where Ayer was pointing at a dingy in the water. It was perfect. It was exactly what they would need for a inconspicuous escape to a nearby shore. He waited till Ayer finished his comment, "good find, friend." The bit about not getting Wax Jury wet was a little concerning, especially given that Ayer was planning to use it in stride with moving dingy. After all, it was a difficult climb into a moving boat and they would need faster propulsion than oars, if there even were any at the bottom of the craft.

Paric had not been on a boat for a long, long time. In fact, he barely remembered why he was last on a boat. His best guess was a ferry that moved him across a body of water. He did know about the creatures that made the water their home... and about how many unfortunate souls found themselves in a watery grave. They would not want to be in the dingy long, less they find themselves being attacked. With any luck, those were just drunk stories. Told by sailors who wanted to spook their friends.

"Let me go first. I have the messed up arm. I don't want to fall during the climb and knock you into the water." He said, making his way to the nails that provided a haphazard ladder to the dingy. He felt strong enough to make the climb, his weight was in his favor, at least. "Here goes nothing," he muttered with an outburst of breath. He lowered himself over and began the climb.

He torqued his foot free with a twist and a pull. Za’Kul made his exit; he hoped the Wor who had gone to save Wor’Da’Li would make it out. If not, he would be sure to honor them and the rest of their bretheren who had fallen there. With the Wor that remained, Za’Kul joined up with them.

“We go to Kul tunnels. All be safe there.”

Daelin went as prompted, leaving the caravan and joining the others outside. He took a spot near the front of the group. "We're going to need to search down there." Daelin pointed down away into the ditch below and hilly terrain weaving below the pass. "The explosion wasn't directly from beneath the caravan. It was a miracle the whole thing didn't topple over and fly off the path to begin with." He reasoned. The explosion was set up closer to the rocky face opposite the trench below. If Marilyn was thrown it would have sent her careening down below somewhere in the hills and crags. If she were still alive she would be in critical condition. Daelin started to move to the edge of the path, pausing briefly to look back at Ell and the rest of the group. "Sooner we get her and get back, the sooner we can get to safety." Daelin explained. He personally didn't want to die but had enough moral fortitude to not want to leave without their comrade either.

The wind was gentle in the pass despite such paths generally having a wind tunnel effect. Rem stood resolute outside the caravan's cabin door. The door still remained open as the people moved and took to their roles. Rem took in the sight by scanning his head around. He drew in a deep breath to settle himself and turned half-way to speak to the cabin's inhabitants. "You will all survive this night." He promised before turning back and maintaining a vigil. It might seem safer to the others inside but Rem was used to being in the open. The caress of the wind always settled his nerves.

Za'Kul's words were not met with any objection. A few Wor stayed behind with the men who tried to stop his progression, while nearly everyone else trusted his words and followed the Kul Tribesmen without a second though. As they progressed, some of their pathways were blocked. Za'Kul knew the Lower tunnels, but the fastest way back to his tribe was no longer accessible. It forced him and his new group to take a few roundabout tunnels. They passed through a few low tribes on their way down, but were not stopped as long as they kept to the public paths. Some of the caved-in tunnels underneath Wor had been coated in dried blood. At one point, one of the Lok'Sha could have sworn they saw the outline of a shoulder hidden beneath the rocks. It was a horrific trip, but eventually, they were able to reach Za'Kul's home, where Ju'Kul and his father were waiting patiently for his return.

Ju'Kul raised his head and smiled, but his expression went blank when he saw many Wor tribesmen following him into the caverns. Several of the Kul gathered nearby and stared as they stepped across the dark cave. Za'Kul's father was still sitting by the hearthstone, granting it mana as they entered the cave.



Paric and Ayer's descent towards the small boat went off without a hitch. It was a little treacherous to be climbing down the slippery wooden poled that supported the dock, but with the aid of both the nails lining the pole, and the thick ropes that kept the ships in place nearby, they were able to make it down unscathed, and unnoticed. By the time they reached the boat, a few guards were addressing their Captain. The Fang was scheduled to leave port that night, but with the ruckus that Ayer stirred with his recent escape, plans were pushed back. Now they were mean to leave at sunrise, but Julius was a few leaves too deep into his little hobby to care.

"Yeah, yeah. Check it again. Check again and then tell me when you've checked it. One more time." The men around Julius looked at each other in dismay. They'd checked the Arcane reactor ten times in the past four hours. It was usually common practice to triple-check those massive mana batteries, but with nothing else to do aside from keeping an eye out, Julius decided it was best to be extra safe. Of course, commanding his men to perform back-to-back safety checks was keeping them from their duties to look over the boardwalk. The Captains of Nillium, despite their fearsome capabilities, were largely inadequate in properly performing their duties. Henry and the Don were the only two keeping things in order around the small town. But both men were no where near the two escaping fugitives so late in the night. Don was busy with his own personal tasks, and Henry was still searching the mainland like a loyal hound.

They has successfully escaped mainland, and not a moment too soon...



Lum's open waters were often calmer during the evening and late night. Nillium Sharks wouldn't surface to feed until at least 4 in the afternoon usually, and some of the larger aquatic creatures kept to themselves unless provoked by the uneducated fishermen. The Nilliums had learned this the hard way in the past, but it was common knowledge to all practiced fishermen that one should not go poking around in open waters carelessly. Colossal beasts were far too common, and without any land to stand on, small vessels were practically floating snacks for them. Paric and Ayer were fortunate to be out in the beginning of summer. The weather would be calm for weeks to come. Unfortunately for them, they were still technically in Nillium territory. A significant portion of the Lum Channel was under the gang's control in the east, but going too far west would put the men in Brephio territory.

If they could navigate their way to mainland without getting spotted by the ships headed back to Nillium from their outpost on Barlo Island, it would be a clean shot straight through the forest, in theory.

Assuming they didn't get eaten on the way through, that is.



Noru followed after Daelin as he lead the way, keeping an eye on Ellorei, or Ell as she preferred, as she stepped in front of him. He knew a great deal about the Druids, and their tendency towards neutrality and kindness above all else. But even within the ranks of those who loved nature, there were rotten roots. Druids were the source of many a conflict in the north. Conflicts that were rarely recorded in the history books. Although he'd never met a Druid personally, there was a creeping suspicion lingering in the back of his mind that these two were a little too coincidental to have arrived when they were down and our of luck.

But perhaps their luck was in fact, just that good.



Lilith didn't respond to Shane straight away. Something else was on here mind. With two kids to take care of, and an unpredictable source of income, there was always something on her mind. But she was usually an expert at hiding her woes behind a smile. Today was a little different. She scrubbed the already-shining bar top and glanced at Shane. Her hands stopped and she torqued her neck to the side. "Yeah," She mumbled, "Weather's been nice for a while." Her hand revved back into motion without a second thought as her focused drifted away from Shane. It crossed her mind that she'd been the one to invite him over to the bar. It was a reflex, mostly. Lilith liked to keep her customers in a good mood, and she knew a lot of them came by just to talk with her. But the air was thicker today. Something about it made it hard to breath. At least, that's how she felt. It was all in her head.

After an uncomfortable pause, she stopped rubbing the counter and put both hands on her hips with a triumphant little nod. "Right, there's a well cleaned counter," she said quietly with an awkward little twitch in her eyes. She looked at Shane and smiled. "How's business for you, Shane? Jim been paying well?" She looked past him at the doorway every few seconds with a nervous glint in her eye. "He's a stingy bastard."



"That's enough," Guardswoman Miatha hissed, clutching a little boy's forearm in her paw with a vice grip. Little Matthew cried out in objection at his apprehension, struggling in the Myti's grip with all of his might. The little Eldi boy was absolutely furious. "Stop it!" Miatha suddenly yanked on his arm with a great deal of force, lifting him off the ground for a second and dropping him again. His knees hit the pavement and he went limp for a few seconds before regaining his footing and stumbling along. "I'm not putting up with this anymore. You're going to the Cathedral. They'll teach you not to steal from the-" Suddenly Matthew bit into Miatha's furry hand and tore into her flesh. The woman's cat-like yowl erupted across the entire plaza, catching many eyes. But when she pulled her hand up to inspect the injury, her prisoner was free to bolt his way to freedom towards the bridge that lead to Berganfont's Low Houses. She didn't chase after him, but stood her ground with an angry snarl as blood dripped from her index finger. "If I see you again, I'm putting you in handcuffs Matty!" Matthew ignored her threat and rose his middle finger behind him as he darted off.

"Try it furball!"

Miatha really hated that kid.