Ayer Lecomte

--9:36pm
- Mentions: @Mataus

The winded arcanist was happy to hear the crew aboard the larger cruiser was distracted by something happening on the other side, allowing them to slip beneath the beams of the search lights. A Nillium shark, it seemed like. He would've loved to have a closer examination of the creature. While it was not magical, from what he heard, it was sight of nature to behold. Their teeth and scales were supposedly stronger than metal, but much more beautiful and light. Who knows? He might've figured out a way to used these materials in prototypes for the Ars, as metal oftentimes had a problem of prolonged heat retention. It was the problem of them, being thermal conductors, despite their usefulness in malleability and general conductivity. It was one of the things he intended on doing during his stay here in the port-town. But those plans have changed, clearly.

As they passed behind the ship, his eyes widened. The boat was being rocked by currents caused by the arcane engine of the larger ship.

"Oh merde...!" he whispered, shifting his oar to the other side to try and offset the heavy bobbing they now experienced.

But another forced seemed to join in the rough bobbing the ship, adding a sharp bump. He was reminded how much he needed to relieve his bladder at all of this uncomfortably displacement. And of the sheer terror that swelled up inside him, quite literally gripped the poor man by his groin. Ayer slowly poked his head over, hoping that his greatest fear was just his overactive imagination. But it was not. A large looming shadow passed underneath, a slender, monstrous shape. One cast by the residual lights shone into the water overhead. Right then, he quite almost pissed himself.

Paric's words only confirmed his sighting, and cemented his terror.

"I-I do not have a habit of excessively rocking the boat! I just... I underestimate my own strength. Yes." he whispered, yet he found himself shaking like a wet dog. Damn.

When he wished for a close examination of the Nillium sharks, this was not what he meant.

"P-pull the oars in." he said, trying hard not to panic. "Pull them in, now...!" As he yanked his over the side back onto the boat, Ayer began steadily scooting himself to one side of the ship, "Hopefully, with our combined weight, we'll keep the ship in balance from the currents. The largest unknown factor which will lead to us being flipped and probably eaten, is that very shark. If we appear just like a floating piece of junk, it might ignore us. If not... Well..."

He didn't want to think about it.

...

Daelin wasn't perceptive enough to notice anything dangerous in the darkness. He stayed close to Ell as he knelt down and examined the piece of wreckage. "This is definitely from the caravan." He noted aloud to the others. "Same deal though, there's no sign of blood or Marilyn here." He got up again and strolled around the scrap, looking for any other signs, unaware of how close he was to the blade of a dagger.



The rumbling was all Rem really needed to notice the massive danger barreling down the road. His enhanced vision allowed him to see the figures and part of the skiff being dragged behind the great venbu. The most prominent was the one standing on top of the venbu. His posture looked confident and commanding. Rem sighed at the sight. If these were the enemy then the night just got much longer.

Rem turned around and dipped his head into the opening of the cabin. "You should close and seal this door unless you intend to help me. We have company and it doesn't look friendly. I'll see if I can't dissuade them first." Rem turned and stood to face the oncoming danger. The most immediate threat was the venbu at full speed. The others would hopefully be able to be reasoned with. The elder druid reached out his free hand, holding his staff with his other as it rested against the ground. He spoke out loud at the same time he projected the psychic command, a habit of his. "Stop!" Rem was always good when dealing with animals.

"I see." Flin responded to Daelin, and began to search around the wreckage as well. He made sure to stay close near the druid. He doubted that he'd have better luck than an experienced scout like Daelin, but he was certainly going to do his best. On one hand, he was glad that they didn't find Marilyn's battered corpse. But she could still be severely injured, so there was no time to waste. Especially after how much time they'd spent dealing with the Myti before looking for her. "Don't worry. We'll find her." He said.

Za’Kul stood with an unnerved look racked in his eyes. Three of his four hearts beat in rapid succession, it was the closest thing he could reckon a Lok’Sha felt to fear and bewilderment. Not knowing whether one was going to survive a perilous situation made all ensouled things panic, no matter the conventions surrounding the nature of their people. Za’Kul knelt on shaking legs to his father and to Ju’Kul, head bowed. His supplication followed,

“Pa. Ju’Kul. I bring Wor in peace, they come in peace. Need home.” he stayed on one knee with his head bowed. Ultimately, the decision was not his but his father’s.

If he was truthful with himself, Za’Kul had no idea what he was doing. As one of the younger members of the expanding Kul tribe, he acted on impulse which--as it is traditionally-absent of the cold reason which blesses one while he ages. As of late, words poured from his mouth without direction; so far, it had been working. The would-be leader wondered how much longer he had before his luck ran out.

Paric pulled in his oars, his hands visibly shaking. "Oh... oh this is bad! Very bad!" He did as Ayer said, moving his weight around to help balance their boat, which had already taken on a deadly lean. He couldn't believe their luck... or lack of luck. Whatever it was, it did not seem fair that they not only had to deal with the ship in alongside them, but also had a shark beneath them. A Nillium too for Maeti's sake! They had little chance to fend off such a beast. To think that they had escaped from the town... and Mop too! The very Mop who had shown extreme fortitude in his ability to survive their multitude of attacks. Yet they now faced a worse danger.

He thought about what they could do if the shark decided to go for them. "Friend, we can throw the oars to distract the shark if it comes to it!" Paric looked back over the side but was not able to see the Nillium. "Oh..." he whispered, "I don't see it! Where is it? WHERE?" He started to move to the opposite side to look over, but felt the ship start to lean again. He leaned back against the boat's side, flashing Ayer a look of terror.

Their boat had somewhat recovered from its lean, it was now safe from the Nillium ship's wake. However, the shark, being as large as it was, could knock their boat over as if it was a toy. It was Paric's first time seeing a shark, and, Paric had to admit, the experience was living up to be quite the terror.

The worst part about these Nillium sharks was how intelligently they hunted sailors. They were known for following a ship until an unfortunate sailor was leaning on a rail. Then they would strike the ship, consequently knocking the poor sailor to his doom. If Paric and Ayer had a chance to survive, it was based on the fact that the shark did not look at all hungry, and that it was odd for small ships to brave the channel. Meaning that the shark would probably mistake them for floating garbage, as Ayer had mentioned.

Ha'Kul and Ju'Kul exchanged a brief look. The chief nodded, and his larger friend quickly directed the newcomers towards the other end of the cave where a small patch of vacant space was available. Za'Kul's father kept one hand on the hearth as he spoke, while the Wor tribesmen followed Ju'Kul away from the two, leaving them alone to speak.

"I dispatched many to tunnels below Wor tribe to find survivors," he said quietly, "None know who responsible for explosion. But definitely happen from beneath. Definitely sabotage from Low tribes." He paused and looked over the where Ju'Kul stood. "You do well to bring survivors... What of Wor'Boa and son?" He looked back to Za'Kul with worry in his eyes. "They alive?"



Hyo Loila clutched the handle of her dagger so tightly that the leather grip began to warp. As soon as Daelin stepped within range of the woman, she acted. It was a two-fold sneak attack from right in front of him, fired from the darkness as her body slowly faded into view.

Hyo leaped at Daelin from a crouch, aiming the claws of her left hand to plunge into his left shoulder, while she thrust her dagger towards his chin from below, hoping to tackle him to the ground if her first strike was not a lethal blow. Noru noticed straight away, but didn't have any offensive options that he was willing to execute in that exact moment. He didn't bother calling out to warn him either. By the time he noticed the Myti from where he stood, it was already too late to say anything.



Blake's Venbu was unresponsive to Rem's call. With a smile, its rider stood up straight on top of the massive beast and pulled out his war hammer with both hands. For a human, he stood exceptionally tall and wide, with muscles that bulged from every part of his body. As soon as they were close enough to execute his plan, Blake kicked the back of Crooked Jaw, prompting him to skid to a halt, and launch the rider high into the air, above Rem and the Caravan. The men in the cart behind him, 3 in total, all jumped out a moment earlier. They were all equipped with similar blades and crossbows, but one of them wielded a strange staff that had a loop in its handle with a glimmering trigger placed within.

When Rem warned Neal, he immediately stood to attention. Zay awoke in a daze, but didn't leave his bunk.

"Wuh?" The captain mumbled. Neal slapped him a few times across the face until his eyes show open and the flailed the larger man's arm away. "What- Ow, ow! Ok, I'm up, I'm up!"

"I think we're under attack," Neal grunted, snatching Zay's key and slamming the door shut, "Best leave it to him, but if things go awry, we need to retreat." Zay blinked. Under attack? Again? Retreat? On foot? Leave it to him? Leave it to who?

"Uh...."



"Myron's fine," Lilith grunted, "Looks like he's gonna get himself caught up in the Black Cathedral's higher politics or whatever. I don't want anything to do with that-" Lilith rubbed the counter top harder with each word, suddenly stopping and pulling her hand back, "ouch!" She'd hurt herself somehow. The woman looked at Shane and rolled her eyes, retreating into the back room.

A few moments later, Peter hopped up on a step stool behind the bar, and carefully placed a plate of vegetables on the table.

"Done!"



Matthew lowered the pouch into his lap slowly, and wiped his face clean. Seeing Vizz was a surprise, but Matthew didn't react like most might've. He just listened, wide-eyed as Vizz went on about his haul. He looked down at his pouch, and then back at the weird little man in front of him before standing up. Matthew was taller than Vizz. Eldi were pretty tall, but this was pretty ridiculous. This little green guy spoke and acted like an adult. What's more, he tried to convince him to hand over in exchange for an escape! At first, the kid wasn't fooled for a second. He narrowed his eyes at the Gibu's hand and put his pouch behind his back. He didn't even need help getting out of the crevice. He'd been down here plenty of times before! But if he wasn't mistaken, this creature before him was...

"You're a greenie, aren't you?" He asked bluntly, disregarding most of Vizz's words and ignoring his offer at a handshake, "Like... Like the ones that steal from the Castelis? The greenies who keep taking potatoes! You're one of those, aren't you?"

Za’Kul rose to a crouch, always remaining eye level with his father when they spoke one-on-one. His three hearts had slowed to normal pace and he was getting his bearings. Wits about him, he scrounged a reply,

“Hi’Wor die in collapse. Wor’Boa… Wor’Boa not there at all.” What was more worrying to Za’Kul was what may happen when word spread of the tunnel’s collapse. Who would get the blame? If Za’Kul knew Smor’Gen’Blok right, it would be the Low tribes, it didn’t matter if they were responsible or not.

“You sure sending Kul down there smart? What we do when other tribe hear? What if other tribe want want war? What we do, Pa?”

Daelin was already on edge so the attack didn't catch him completely off guard. He shoved the butt of the crossbow at the myti, parrying the dagger without too much issue. The off-hand claw attack still managed to draw blood from him as it pierced just above his bicep. Daelin may have been a soldier but he was used to fighting beasts not humanoids. He pulled himself back from the myti, in spite of his injured shoulder he aimed the crossbow at close range from his hip, fired for her torso and jumped back.



The beast wasn't listening to Rem's command. It was either well-trained or enchanted by something or someone. Thankfully it was no longer the primary concern. "Hmm.. Well, that settles that." He muttered as the men all drew their weapons and dismounted. They made it excruciatingly clear what they wanted to do. This was the kind of thing he became a druid to avoid. Men always had their ulterior motives, beasts were easy to read. These men were certainly here to kill but the why of the matter was unanswered.

Rem took his staff in both hands. "What brings you fair gentleman here tonight?" He asked them sarcastically as he prepared his next move. Wind, keep me safe from their quarrelers, he chanted in his mind.

Shane frowned as Lilith walked away. "I'm sorry." He said to Lilith. He felt that he was partly to blame for getting her so worked up, and causing her to hurt her hand. But at least it was confirmed that she was concerned about him in particular. In a sense, it was better than herself or her kids being in trouble. Priests usually had pretty luxurious lives, and would have an easier time to deal with problems. But it was still terrible to see her like this. But as Peter approached, he gave him a warm smile. "Thank you!" He sung, munching on his meal.



Flin glared at the Myti that emerged from the darkness. He wasn't quick enough to aid Daelin against her attack, but perhaps he could help him when he countered. He aimed the palms of his hands at the Myti, using telekenesis to try to yank on her shoulders to pull her body into Daelin's arrow as Flin himself jumped further back, to try to hold her in place momentarily before she could get any solid footing on the ground.

In the time it took for the attack to happen Ellorei's eyes began to white, her pupil and her irises gone. The young druid released a sharp war cry as in these seconds she looked as though she became possessed by a spirit. Ellorei was not practiced in much, but the young druid had grown up with the elements as friends so much so calling upon their aid was easy as moving a limb and for the briefest of moments she missed dancing with her tribe and the elements. The young woman made a wave of her staff and at that moment wind began to manifest itself becoming almost visible as myti and the arrow became encapsulated in a prison made of wind.

Her red hair floated about her, it looked as if the wind was almost playing with the strands as the druid herself stood unmoving. Waiting for the myti to make its next move. Ellorei was vehemently against taking a life. However, she also knew when justice was due if this was one of the attackers, these people deserved that justice.

Gybol looks to remain patient, but there is a very unamused look on his face when this old man had the gall to do something to his employee. There is a very brief moment where that anger flickers in his expression, but he's keeping a rather calm and polite smile on his face. "One moment." He looks over his shoulder. "Nina, don't forget to pick up the parcel today before your shift is over. We need the shipment for the new menu in a couple days." While this sounds like truth, it's his own little code of get the guards. He always gets his own parcels.

Once Nina is gone or has reacted, he turns his attention back toward the old man. "Your insistence is noted but in telling you I would be exposing my own secrets as to how this cafe runs. You mention that you have no intention to harm or threaten, but you've just admitted to attempting to do harm to my employee. I'm not exactly thrilled that your actions do not meet your hypothetical reassurances, so I'm going to call that bluff of yours and politely and once more refuse to answer that question. I assume by doing this, you are going to insist in other ways? Or are you going to explain why you are so insistent about why this matters to you? If such artifacts are common enough for you to know about them, then surely there is more reason to your actions and methodology than you're not letting on. I cannot be honest to a dishonest and vague question, if that makes sense."

Vizz couldn't help but do a "what the hell?" gesture as he heard the term 'Greenie'. "Really!? THAT'S what you call us? That's like if I called you guys "pinkies". Not like you can talk, pointy." The Gibu retorted, referring to the young Eldi's ears, which was ironic considering Vizz's own ears which jutted out of either side of his head. Jeez, you'd think having a bigger body would let you have a bigger brain. What a joke.

"I mean... I don't steal from the Castelli's. Don't even know who they are." Vizz mumbled the last bit. "And I certainly don't steal goddamn potatoes! The hell do you think Gibu actually do!?" He ranted on. Gibu's ears twitched as he glanced out of the entranceway, checking for any guards or even people to remember for a later theft.

Ha'Kul let out a long breathy sigh as his son began to question the situation. "Calm yourself, boy. This not a bad omen. We blessed with fall of Wor. Need not worry about Kul." He released his hand from the hearthstone, prompting a gentle flash that encapsulated the rock and improved its glow ten-fold. The chief stood up straight afterwards, and beckoned Za'Kul to follow him with a subtle head gesture and a grunt. "Wor Reputation lower than even lowest tribes in Smor'Gen'Blok. I not know why, not understand, but Wor'Boa target of all who he oppress. But Wor tribe not consumed entirely by the rage of pure bloods. Old tradition die with pure bloods, die with Wor'Boa." He stopped by his personal tent and turned around slowly to rest his body. After charging the hearthstone for the day, it would be a little while before his mind was completely clear of mental exhaustion. Ha'Kul shook the feeling off as best he could and rubbed his left temple.

"Survivors of Wor are not at fault for actions of pure bloods. But not my place to pick and choose who deserves life or death. We move to save survivors now. All pure blood will be thankful. Sure of it. Those not? They fight, and will die." The Chieftain's face tightened with regret. "Whoever responsible for collapse perform monstrous deed. But Wor's actions bring punishment. No amount of mercy stop brothers and sisters from such deeds. We left to pick up bits and pieces, rebuild trust, start anew. Lu'Li'Po not wish for Lok'Sha to treat each-other like beasts. We not beasts. We people. All people deserve help. All people can change."

Ju'Kul jogged across the hearth site as the chief finished talking, leaving the Wor survivors to rest and mourn their losses.

"Wor not restless. Sad, but comfortable. No Pure bloods among them." Ha'Kul nodded to his friend and turned back to Za'Kul.

"It is as I say, thankfully. Does this calm the mind, son?"



The Myti's shoulder pulsed with mana, dispelling Flin's attempt to grab her as she lunged forward on adrenaline and instinct alone, following Daelin and using his backward momentum to easily topple him to the ground, pinning him as best she could. Before the wind could surround her and separate the woman from Daelin, both of them hit the ground with a heavy thump. The fired arrow plunged into her hip, piercing through flesh and bone and exiting through the opposite side of her body. It was true what they said about Myti, they were a fragile sort of creature. But her exceptional speed put her in a position to execute Daelin at a moment's notice. She brought her dagger back towards his throat despite the parry, and held it firmly. If she let up even for a moment, her inferior strength would have her tossed aside easily.

_{'The plan'}

She didn't delay. Only a moment after Daelin's body hit the ground, the Myti's voice rang through Daelin's mind as a blaring shout.

"We have the girl. Tell them to stop."

Regardless of whether Daelin heeded her message or not, the Myti promptly began to funnel her mana through Daelin's nervous system. A psychic assault, something aimed to straight up force the man to lose consciousness. Myti were known for their exceptional mana control. If she wasn't disconnected from him quickly, it wouldn't matter if he listened to her warning.



Blake ignored Rem's words as he careened overhead, and flipped forward with his hammer prepped overhead. With a thunderous crash, he landed on the roof of the Caravan, and slammed his hammer into the reinforced flooring. As if it were made of balsa wood, it cracked and crumbled, flooding the inside of the caravan with shrapnel, and dislodging the lamp overhead. Zay fell from his bunk and landed hard on his side. Thankfully, his injuries had recovered due to Noru's earlier treatments, but he hadn't gotten much rest. Neal rose his hands overhead and blocked the falling debris from falling onto Pyra, but was in no position to shield anyone else.

"Captain! Outside!" Neal shouted as wooden splinters fell into the slots between his armor. Zay propped himself out and quickly rose to his feet, snatching the Key from the floor and unlocking the door to get out of the room.

Blake's cronies all took aim with their crossbows, ignorant of Rem's status as a druid. In rather perfect unison, they fired at him, sending a stream of bolts towards Rem. Blake, now standing on uneven ground, quickly spun towards the front of the caravan and prepped his hammer for another swing.



Matthew flinched at the Gibu's outburst. Is that what he was. He looked away nervously, and then eyed one of the gutter entrances that lead towards the surface of town. This thing was probably dangerous. It looked armed, and had terrible manners. But he wasn't really one to talk.

"Whatssa Gibu?" He asked quietly, inching around the small man. "Peter calls you little monsters greenies, cuz you're green, and envious. You steal potatoes and carrots and stuff cuz... Uh..." He racked his brain was absentmindedly glancing at his escape route ever other second. "Cuz you're hungry! Peter says it, must be true. His momma told him bout' how the greenies are evil little thieves that take whatever they want from whoever they want! And, and... You hide in the sewers at night!" He paused, remembering another name he heard for them at one point from Peter's big brother.

"Trash goblins!"



Nina caught on immediately, and froze in place. Her head craned towards the door, where she could see Gybol's hand and leg poking out just beyond the frame. Without a second thought, she dropped her spoon and sneaked her way out of the building through the back entrance. It wouldn't take too long to find a guard this early in the morning. At least, that's what she hoped for.

"You're a stubborn one," he scoffed, "I just wanted a little privacy. She would have been fine." The man slowly tiled his body to the side and groaned before returning to his upright position. It sounded like the girl had run off to deal with the parcel Gybol mentioned. With a moment alone with Gybol, he smiled and lowered his head. "My name is Richard Barnaby. I suspect you've heard of my father if you're keen on books." His eyes fluttered up a few times between words. Richard's father, Hubert Barnaby, was a man famous for his books on Marrenfall's culture and economical climate. He was also responsible for heading major revolutions in mana-forged technology in the southern sprawl of Marrenfall, including the invention of the MCA (Mana Collision Apparatus) which improved the efficiency of mana storage. "That artifact you wield is a trinket devised in the late 1200's of the third era. It is called a Soul Locket. It took researchers twenty years to figure out exactly what they're capable of, but that's besides the point." Richard leaned back and pushed the tray forward slightly to make room for his hands. "There are only two of those wretched things in existence, that I know of. One of them is in my possession, as you can clearly see. The other was taken by a colleague of mine." Richard glared at Gybol's locket momentarily, and then met his eyes again. "I'll spare you any further detail on the situation and cut straight to the chase, mister Gybol. Did you kill a man by the name of Jakob Stein?" He tightened his smile and lowered one of his arms to his waist.

Daelin was in bind with the myti taking initiative despite personally injury to herself. He crashed against the ground with an, "Oof!". The crossbow clattered to the side. Daelin instinctively went for the dagger with his own arm, intent on preventing her from the getting the finishing blow by any means. Before she was able to get it to his throat he stopped her arm with his forearm and held there in desperation. She may not have been physically stronger but in a full mount position like this it didn't matter, Daelin was in tough spot.

The psychic assault that followed made Daelin go wide-eyed. He'd never had someone trying to fish around in his head or force him to do anything. It was like trying to struggle to stay awake when you've been awake for days. It looked like Daelin was about to say something but whether it was for the myti's sake or just to alert his allies wasn't apparent as his eyes went blank and slumped back like a ragdoll.



A volley of arrows was flying for Rem. The druid made no movement to react. The wind itself kicked up in a ferocious wall that snapped all the projectiles out of the air and flew down the pass to ram into the ambushers. The arrows broke on impact, flying off in several different directions in splinters. If the wind wall didn't incapacitate them it would take a moment for them to recover and reload if they were bold enough for another volley. The time to pay attention to Blake was now. Rem boosted himself onto the caravan with a gust of wind and smashed his staff down toward Blake as he descended. The druid was aggressively boosting his own strength, knowing full well that Blake was likely a soul magic user or greater from the huge impact he made on the caravan. It was a good thing Rem was in this position and not the younger druid. He actually had formidable close range capabilities himself.

Flin's eyes widened as Daelin was brought to the ground. He had to act quickly, or his friend would be finished. He used telekenesis to pull a large piece of the wreckage from the ground, and made it fly at the side of the Myti in an attempt to knock her off. She was still imprisoned by wind, which he hoped would keep her in place. The incoming metal piece accelerated due to Ellorei's wind which would only increase it's impact, and Flin moved his mouth. But no sound seemed to come forth, and only Ellorei could hear his voice.

"Keep that bitch in place!"

Gybol eased up a bit, or just made it look like he was a bit more relaxed. He was ready to move the moment he needed if the old man wanted to try something foolish. Thankfully, he didn't. If anything he'd offer the guard a free lunch if things happened poorly on his end but he didn't quite believe things to be. As he listened, he definitely regarded the old man's belongings a bit more keenly. Not in the sense of a thief would eye a prize, but more of someone weary of the likely literal shitstorm that would occur if things did not play out to his favor. He exhales a bit

"There we go. You could have been far more polite and asked for some privacy, then asked the question. Do me a solid and keep your hands where I can see them and I'll be a bit more polite, hrm? No. I didn't kill him. I found it on a skeleton years old. I mean years. Moss growing on the bones. As for the where, I cannot say. It's my route and it's a trade secret. The materials I gather could put someone six feet under were they used poorly, if you catch my concerns. This trinket has not given off any sort of magical nature as far as I'm aware of, so whether or not this is actually what you think it is or some pauper's cheap trick that they died with, I cannot say."

Ayer Lecomte

--9:37pm
- Mentions: @Mataus

Ayer hugged his Ars and curled up in the boat for dear life. The metal was hot, steamy, and right near scalded him. But it was the only stable thing left in life at this point. The only sense of order. This is the worst kind of hopelessness, when you have to rely on hope itself instead of having a plan to conquer. He can only wait and see what happens.

Suddenly, he felt a nudge from below, and nearly lurched out. Ayer croaked, thinking he was going to vomit. But then remembering how he hadn't eaten anything nearly all day. He merely held his head, fighting off the horrible swirl of feelings as acidic juices swelled within his gut. In his discomfort squirming, Ayer noticed the bump was surprisingly softer compared to earlier, followed by a series of similarly weak smacks. His confusion was replaced with fear, when a spined pale dorsal fin popped up from the surface of the water and circled the bobbing dingy.

Ayer thought this was it, expecting a huge maw to suddenly surround them and swallow them whole. But instead, the behavior did not change. Another few nudges vibrated from the bottom of the boat, gentle and rhythmic. A suddenly familiarness washed over his eyes. Ayer has seen it before. This was an act of courtship, wasn't it? The arcane scientist can only watch incredulously as the ritual unfolded before him.

"Friend Paric... Is... is it trying to mate with us...?" he muttered in disbelief, "I always thought myself a beta... but this takes it to a whole different level..."

A few more attempts ensued, where the Nillium nudged, brushed, and nestled with the rocking boat, as though trying to seduce and rouse the vessel itself. During heat, animals tend to be overwhelmed by their hormones and instinct. If this was so, the creature was probably blinded by its libido, it's normal viciousness now subjugated with a more 'loving' protocol. Luckily, they must seem like a female, as otherwise, the meeting of two males would prove a wholly different sort of ritual. A rumble and splash was the last thing they felt before the creature retreated back under the tides in frustration.

After a moment of silence, the boat finally stopped its nauseous sway, the waves caused by the bigger vessel abating as the ship crossed away from them. Ayer nearly cracked out laughing.

"D-did that just happened?" Ayer said, smiling big. "Seems like it isn't just miracles that are keeping us alive today. It is the power of beautiful nature itself!" He looked over the side, seeing the shadow disappear, "I hope you better luck in the future, my sad, horny, little friend!"

He held the oars firmly, and looked to Paric.
"Well then, shall we make it to shore? Though I'm flattered, I don't want anymore advances today."

...

The line of archers braced themselves as the wind sped towards them. Some lost their footing and tumbled back a few feet. Two remained study with their arms covering their face as the winds died down.

"No good Bart," one man noted, "That's some serious elemental force. Is he the captain?"

"I don't give a shit. There ain't a captain alive capable of blockin' this thing." Bart grunted, throwing his crossbow aside angrily moments before drawing the strange artifact from his back. It looked almost like a glass tube with a sharpened tip, like a rapier of sorts. But he wielded it like a crossbow, holding the shaft while threading two fingers through the loop at his base.

Blake's good ear twitched, and he turned around as Rem jumped above him. This guy wasn't any normal knight. Was it the Captain of the crew? He didn't particularly care. The end result would be the same. As Rem's staff came down, Blake hefted his hammer's pole into its path and blocked the strike, sliding backwards slightly on two shards of wood, towards the crack he'd made in the caravan's roof. He shifted his left leg and heaved forward with a great deal of force, motioning to push Rem straight back the way he came.

"Get outta' here!" He shouted. The amount of strength this man possessed with phenomenal. His size was one thing, but the way he moved was completely indicative of some form of soul magic.



Richard listened with a gradually disappearing smile as Gybol recounted how he acquired the amulet, while slowly placing both his hands on the table again. He leaned forward, lowering his eyes to the counter top. It was heavy to have affirmation of Jakob's demise, even if he didn't fully believe it at first. There weren't many people capable of killing him in the world, and he wasn't one to wander the wilds alone. What did him in? Was it even him? Richard sighed and nodded to himself quietly, but he wasn't finished there.

"I don't suppose you're willing to bargain for knowledge on the whereabouts of his body?" He offered, "I may not look it, but I am a powerful man in some cities." He reached for his belongings and set himself as ready to depart. "All I need is a few moments to collect the bones and investigate the place of death. I can promise you that my knowledge will remain mine."

The wind was now encompassing Daelin and the myti, but from here Ellorei wasn't sure what the next move was. Growing up in with the Cha'mir there were warriors, but she was not one of them and if they were being technical this was her first true combat situation. Ellorei looked to Flin and Noru for guidance. Flin's command to keep the woman in the wind was exactly what Ellorei did.
"What do I do now?" Ellorei yelled.

Pyra stirred and awoke at the sound of something (or someone) landing on he roof, opening his eyes just in time to catch something slamming into the ceiling and sending shards of it down. He nodded at Neale, groaning a bit as he forced himself to sit up. His arm felt... better, to say the least. Still painful, but more of a dull ache rather than the before sharp pain.

Nonetheless, best to not use that arm for the time. He rose to his feet off the bed, looking around at the circumstances. Neale was busy with him, the captain was on the ground, several seemed to be... gone? Let’s assume they’re off doing something and not... dead.

After a moment, his eyes fell on the various shrapnel on the floor. Let’s tidy this up a bit, then focus on whatever vagrant was doing this. With a dismissive wave of his good arm, he began to encase the shrapnel in his energy and slowly collect it into a ball of sorts. Perhaps that could be useful if an attacker presented himself. Were those crossbow bolts from above? Well, if the Myti hadn’t learned their lesson before... he grimaced, letting the ball collapse into a simple pile and keeping a close eye on the ceiling. If another force hit the ceiling like before, he’d be ready.