In response to Aredis' berratement and inquiry, the dragon lowered his head a little...and snorted at him Was...was that a snerk? Well, yes it was. His senses were so much sharper as he was, right now. He could smell the sweat of fear, see the attempts to keep calm in the face of a dangerous creature. Without a god to protect him, this elder man could be snapped up like nothing, in his eye, but the fact is that he was just so thoroughly pleased with himself at the moment that he did not care to. Just to be in this form after countless lifetimes of denial was good enough. They didn't know. It may not have existed for them. Was it ever...? Argh, the confusion again... The dragon fought it to the back of his mind.

Then, someone shouted at him, quite loudly. Actually, there was alot of shouting going on, all of a sudden.

First, there was a man who clearly did not like dragons - which was understandable, since he'd suddenly manifested himself in the full right in the middle of town - and then the ork from before was trying to play peacemaker, quite unexpectedly. He wasn't a normal ork, was he? All the orks the dragon had ever met were warrior-kind, strong and proud. This one had to be the most easy-going member of their race he had ever seen...and that was surprising. This was so intriguing that he was actively ignoring that people were threatening him, like the paladin woman. He was trying really hard not to think of her, because she was making him think of two people who weren't really there.

It was when the demon spoke up that his attention returned to the situation at hand. He thought that this was about showing him superiority? Oh, NOW the dragon began to laugh. If any of them had ANY experiences with dragons, they probably never saw them do that, throwing back his head and chuckling quite loudly. He returned his gaze to the demon.



This thunderous dragon voice in english clearly taxed the jaws of the fully-formed dragon, and he soon reverted to his humanoid form, basically rippling back down into the armored creature from before. He was still facing the demon, now, toothy jaw still twisted into a big fang-y smile.

"After all, you wouldn't want people to call you goat man or minotaur half-breed, now would you? It wasn't some pathetic name-calling. He actually believed it. So, I educated him."

Then, there was a pause, as he recalled that the...the elf had said something in the midst of all this.

"What're you going on about? What job?"

"A... A fulfillin' job!" Answered the half-elf. This answer was only momentary, as he was still reeling from the transformation he witnessed. Never in his life had he seen, thought of or even dreamed of such a display. It was repulsive to him. The way the form of the dragon crumpled into this little thing. A shiver ran up his spine.

"Er, yes, the job. I'm lookin' to hire some people to come up North with me. We'll be lookin' for a way to help the town. And you'll be paid whatever you want, as much as you want, so its a great gig." Clarified Urdal, pleased with the way thing seemed to be deescalating. There was the problem of Numenor, but the half-elf hoped the no-longer so drunk man wouldn't act up. Also the paladin. She would probably be a pain, but Orky had not really let go of the handle of her weapon, so she'd be... Hitting them with fists and her shield if it came to it. Drunk priests were scary.

He was about to strike the orc when he caught his sword.

And just as he was about to pull it back, the orc started crying. What in the hell? He had never seen an orc cry like this before, outside of a battlefield that is. What was he even crying about? This abnormal action performed by the orc made Numenor pause for a moment and he heard the first few sentences of the orc's speech. He saw the orc's blood snake its way from the point where he was holding the sword to the guard, leaving a dark trail until it pooled at the tip before dripping to the floor. This was completely surreal. He knew that people had gone mad with the fall of the gods but he had been too drunk to give a damn. But now, when a dragon was rampaging outside, screams of people filling the air, with this orc possibly being in league with the dragon...

His eyes went dark as he withdrew the sword from the Orc's grip in an upward slash, aiming to cut any fingers along the way. Then if he succeeded, taking advantage of moving the orcs arm out of the way, he would performing a thrusting strike below the orc's armpit where the armor didn't reach.

He cut the monster's speech in half, hopefully along with his hand.

Well, this was mighty interesting indeed. As she looked on the big lizard made a big fuss over something before shrinking down to a little lizard that stood sorta like a person. Talk about a case of lizard shrinkage!

The person shaped wall of metal turned right away upon hearing the words Job uttered by the skinny guy who ran out of the tavern, looking straight at him through the narrow eye slot of her dark iron great helm.

"A job?" She responded, trying to confirm if what she heard was true.

"Er, yes, the job. I'm lookin' to hire some people to come up North with me. We'll be lookin' for a way to help the town. And you'll be paid whatever you want, as much as you want, so its a great gig." He explained to the bunch of them. He had her at job. The rest of his offer was just extra tasty icing on the cake.

"I can do the job! I'm a mercenary. Need anything killed? I do a lot of fighting so I'm real good at that." She offered quite enthusiastically though her voice still seemed to drag on towards the end of each sentence. It was quite unreal and perhaps a little off-putting for most common folk.

She didn't seem at all distracted by the fact that the one guy was waving his sword at the orc. Or was it through him? She couldn't tell. She neither knew what was going on nor cared. Combat was so familiar for her that she had no issues concentrating on her potential employer while there was violence going on right behind her. She hadn't even noticed the horned man that stood a foot or so higher than her standing just a bit to her side. Right now all that mattered was that there was a job to be had, just the thing she was looking for.

The person, who turned out to be a woman, at least according to the voice coming out of the helmet, had nicely piped in, interested in a job as well. Taking into account the words spoken by her, as well as her strange appearance, coupled with the eerie armor set, she looked like quite the capable candidate, figured Urdal.

The half-elf, quite satisfied by the short lowering of arms, which had occurred, almost skipped over towards the woman, going behind the demonic in heritage man. He stopped walking at around three feet from his new recruit, who looked quite normal, when compared to the other individuals who had gotten into his posse, and extended his hand in greeting.

"Very well! I'm Urdal, and I'm glad to be... Working with you..?" His voice trailed off when he started inspecting the ancient armor set worn by her, as well as the big anchor. Another thing that caught his eye were the yellow shining lights, coming from between the slits of the helmet. Normal, yes. His disappointment was immeasurable, but he made a valiant attempt to hide it.

Seeing as the dragon's hissy fit had subsided, Aredis hadn't intended to push his luck. Struggling greatly, he heaved himself up with the staff and began to mutter a prayer under his voice, hoping to at least dull the pain in his entire leg. It seemed to help for the moment at least. As he did so, he saw a rather odd scene unfolding before him, the orc and the monstrous drunkard from before had a rather...interesting engagement occurring. Then another man, or was that a bull? No no, that was not quite right. Aredis had never seen a bull in human form. He'd interacted with a fair amount of the normal variety when he occasionally ventured out to tend to the crops of farms near his forest. They were an unfortunately dull beast. Thoughts of food and violence. Not as sophisticated as most other beasts. So much seemed to have been sparked by his idle comments to the half-...actual dragon. Which reminded him, what in Gods names was an actual dragon doing here? It had been some time since they had cared or attempted to interfere with the affairs of mortals. If he remembered his history they had also thought themselves Gods and profane the worship of the true inhabitants of the Heavenly Accord.

With labored strides, he would move to the woman who was still quite belligerent. There was a certain...aura about the woman. Forsaken, perhaps. It was something he understood. Yet she had taken it much worse. The heavy plate about her made it clear that she had once been a keen user of such an outfit. Now, however the Holy Woman had become frail. Thin. How she managed to carry the weight of the armor on her shoulders was a mystery to him. Unshakable resolve will give a person strength that transcends their physical form though. Aredis once would have been one of comparable resolve. Recent events had him questioning his entire life. What had the point been if it all led to this. He hoped this journey would allow him to discover things about himself.

"Your faith is admirable. Yet you are falling and you haven't prepared for the impact. Once you have, pulling yourself from the depths shall be an arduous task. If you succeed however, the recovery will bring you enlighten." Perhaps that was a bit overkill, the druid pondered. It got quite irritating to others, but he enjoyed speaking in an overly clergy like way. It would evoke fiery responses. This would perhaps bring his end sooner than later, yet what did he have if not an exciting life. Change was coming in this world and he wanted to follow. In time his social inadequacy would fade. Yet he knew he would still intentionally perturb the others. It gave him a small smile. At this point he had not wanted to address his also violent companions as it hadn't worked out well with the apparent dragon.

Sparing little time she reached over and gripped Urdal's small hand in her thick gauntlet's grasp. Like shaking hands with a gorilla he'd find her grip quite crushing and the shaking was quite indelicate as well. She didn't even need to set her anchor down either since her main hand was the left. Since everyone shook hands with the right it spared her the delay of having to set it down first.

"Nice to meet you Urdal. My name is Gangraena. Most folks call me Gang for short." She released his hand. "It'll be great, don't you worry!" She assured him, giving a big thumb up with her now free hand. After that she let her hand return back to her side as she turned to look over the rest of the crowd that had gathered in front of the tavern.

"Any of you all working with Mister Urdal here?" She asked the bunch in general. She wanted to meet the rest of the crew she'd be working with, maybe make some new friends before they die like the others. Taking stock of the lot she noted a scaly guy, a sword guy, an orc guy, an axe lady, an old man with a stick and a horned guy.

They looked like they were all getting along just fine.

What? He couldn't even budge the sword from the orc's grip! What foul magic was this?!?!? It almost seemed like a gorrible twisted god was toying with him right now, giving him shit rolls!

None the less, his attack plan had failed before even jumping the first step...which wasn't even part of the plan since he though it was definite that he would achieve it. The sword struggled against the orc's hand but it never got free from its grasp. So he was stuck there listening to the orc. This orc was special, his twisted mentality of not wanting violence and fights combined with his Hulk strength, he was a dangerous individual indeed. Or it could be that he was so drunk that he couldn't even hold his sword in his hands, let alone fight.
After the orc finished his speech, Numenor started responding:"I don't know what your purpose is here, or even if you are with that dragon but if what you say is true then you should join me to stop it. Do you hear all the screams of terror outside? All the chaos unfolding around you? It is not just a "little fit" IT IS A CALAMITY! Now let go of my sword before I cut your hand in half!"

His week pull of the sword earlier couldn't even count as a try! It could also be taken as him being patient and listening to the orc, not wanting to harm him. But now, if the orc didn't let go, he would give it another try and hopefully this time, no shitty dice rolls would stand in his path!

The Pissed off guy had tried to move his sword from Orky's hand but the training he did with the Warlock did him well, Orky loose grip what so ever. But when Pissed Guy tried to move his sword Orky did sintch from the pain. "Believe me I don't know what I'm doing here either, I kinda just went in the direction of the wind. But no I am not with Mr. Dragon, but didn't you hear what he said? Mr. Dragon is just frustrated and angry at the world. I mean if I was locked up for a long time wouldn't you be angry too? I may be stupid but I know hurting anything for no reason is wrong, so I can't let you hurt anybody, be they dragon or human. AND THAT GOES FOR EVERYONE HERE!" Orky didn't mean it as a threat but as something to get through to them. "But I won't let go of your sword till you promise me that you won't hurt anybody." Orky gave a stern look at the Dragonborn, Orky couldn't help but put a little of menace in the gaze. The menace is in his blood after all.

Orky heard the strange looking Blue Turtle Woman's question. Orky, completly forgetting that he was holding the Holy Woman's axe, let go of it raising his hand in the air and saying, "I am."

No.

No.

No.

Nobody touched Dustbringer. Nobody threw Dustbringer to the ground. Nobody, nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody nobody

"NOBODY TOUCHES MY AXE, NOBODY HANDLES DUSTBRINGER!"

The once-paladin let out a banshee like screech at the offence that this filthy, disgusting, marauding, crying, beastly orc! Wait, crying? Her anger was still at the front of her body, pouring out of every pore of her body, seemingly radiating from her- she was a physical ball of nothing but rage, but it was mixed, diluted by a potent dose of confusion and befuddlment. What orc cried?

No! It was a trick! A trap! A way to get her to lower her mind. Tilting her head back, she let out another scream, but this one held sense to it, her vocal cords twisting themselves and grating themselves raw as she shouted out a war cry at the top of her voice. It was a pained, screaming noise that echoed around the street, a discordant noise that should have had no reason to come from a human mouth.



She no longer cared about such petty things as 'money' or 'dignity.' She cared even less about 'humanity' and 'sanity' She cared only that this vile offence by a treacherous, underhanded swine would not go unpunished. She launched herself at the greenskin with his hand up, the metal-shod edge of her shield aimed for his skull.

Before he knows it The Holy Woman bashed him with her shield right on the head. This knocks Orky back a little, he lost his grip on the Dragonborn's sword. He takes a few steps back to feel the damage at his head. He touches the wound with his hand, it of course stings. He then takes his hand off to see the blood on his hand from the wound. Orky has seen his own blood before, he usually wasnt gazed by it, but something about this is different. He felt something deep inside of him screaming PUNCH MEAN LADY IN FACE NOW.

Before he knew it he had succumb to his Orcish fighting will. He let out a blood curdling scream to attempt to make the Holy Woman hesitate to attack again. He then began to charge the Holy Woman. One could compare it to the sight of a bull going towards a matador. Before Orky attacked he had jumped quite a hit into the air to put his body weight into the punch he had prepared for the Holy Woman. Orky aimed his punch right at the face of the Holy Woman.

Aredis just stood back as the fury of Hell seemed to be unleashed. He took great note of the fact that he would never attempt to part the woman from her axe. Something told him she would relieve him of his arm if he had. Normally he was quite adequate at conflict resolution, yet there was no simple calming that would work on these three individuals. However, he had one last alternative idea. Having taken a few steps back to get an overview of the unfolding catastrophe, he quelled his inner turmoil for a moment and gripped the amulet at his chest. Paying the chilled metal little mind, he tracked the faces of the cut stone set within it and began to speak from memory. He would slowly crouch and press the palm of his free right hand to the dry, cracked earth that dusted his bare feet. They chances were poor yet what else could he do? Perhaps...the power was not granted entirely from the Heavenly Accord, and they were merely empowered through their worship. It first began as a silent movement of his lips until it gradually grew to a whisper, then increased so that as he finished it was a defiant shout.



As Aredis finished, his voice only quivered a small amount, yet he stood almost fully erect with a bit more confidence than he had previously. Small roots and flowers seemed to break through the earth about Aredis' feet and snake between his toes and around his shins. The earth beneath the rest of the party would begin to rumble very slightly and small cracks would run through it as the soil and dirt seemed to gain darker, richer color. As if life was being breathed into it.

Her cold emotionless helmet turned to the orc as he raised his hand and proclaimed his allegiance to her employer. Under the armor she was smiling warmly of course, as warmly as a living corpse could be anyhow. She gave a friendly wave back to him.

"Nice to meet-" She was cut off when a lady started screaming at the top of her lungs before lunging to try and take the orcs head off with a shield. She failed of course since shields aren't quite like axes in terms of beheading ability but she certainly angered the orc enough to start a fight. Now these two people were trying to kill the orc who had claimed to be working under Urdal. The old man was yelling something but at this point who wasn't? She turned her new boss and gestured to the melee taking course with her thumb.

"Hey Mister Urdal, those guys are attacking the orc who's working for you. Want me to smash them?" She presented the offer with about as much care as someone offering to carry a heavy satchel for a friend. No real part of what happened gave her any cause for alarm. Quite frankly her priorities as to what was serious, however few those where, were themselves very laid back. That wasn't to say she wouldn't kill someone who bugged her but it didn't have to be about something she felt too strongly about.

Killing was just something she did. She did it well.

Urdal just now noticed that things were going bad for his orcish comrade. He was not aware that the other recruits of his would be so aggressive. He was not expecting such a reaction out of any person, really. Then again, he was not really thinking of people by including the condition that the Gods were gone. He was not aware of the personal issues concerning the confrontation.

"Stop! Or I..." He tried say something, get in their way, prevent them from ripping each other apart, but words did not come out of his mouth. Urdal was not the confrontations type of guy. He was the avoiding confrontations type of guy. He worked in the dark, he slid along the shadows. He did not jump in between three warriors to stop them from killing each other. The half-elf gave up on doing the deed himself and turned to the woman, who had introduced herself as Gangraena.

"Make them stop figthin'." He asked of her, shoulders a bit slouched in defeat as he turned out not to be brave enough.

Yes. YES she felt the blood rush through her veins after lying sluggish for so long. THe alcohol was gone, replaced by a different sort of burning. She bared teeth- more wolf than woman, and let out another cackle through her ruined throat as the edge of her makeshift weapon smashed against the beast's skull with a delicious sounding crack. That was what she had never known she lived for.

The creature raised a hand against her. She watched as the fist swung close, and at the last minute adjusted her shield, letting his fist skim off the edge and clatter against the boss. That probably had hurt his hand more than hers. She used the opportunity to duck underneath the orc, putting herself between him and her axe. Precious Dustbringer. She would have to sanctify it afresh now.

The dirt gave her an idea. Sweeping her foot up, she let the cloud of clod do the dirty work of blinding her foe, and then launched herself. Not at him,no, but at the ground behind her, fingers scrabbling around the holy wood. Dustbringer gleamed in her hands, and at the same times as she held it high the ground quaked around her, plants springing up.

She held the axe up to the sky, having entirely missed the druidic summoning that had caused the greenery to suddenly erupt, but it was enough, in her mind, to show that her cause was right. She was going to destroy this orc. Swinging out her shield again towards his gut, she let her axeblade crash dow, a clumsy but brutal blow towards his head.

"Make them stop fightin'"

That was all the confirmation she needed. Looking back out towards the group she approached the two fighting the orc, looming over them with naught but the two faint beams of pale yellow light softly glowing in the darkness of her helm. Her shadow was cast upon them as she spoke.

"Stop fighting." She ordered, her voice not exactly the most threatening despite it's bizarre hollow drone. Of course the woman paused not to heed her words and continued her attempt on the orc's life. Urdal had instructed her to make them stop fighting and, by her logic, the best way to keep something from fighting was to kill it. The dead didn't fight back much, especially after the second time.

Not at all bothered with any sort of ethical contradictions attacking someone to keep them from from fighting would bring she stepped forward, her armored boot hitting the ground with the resounding clang of metal plates upon each other mixing with the thud of her weight upon the stony floor. Gripping the shank of the anchor which served as her handle with both hands she raised the rust and blood crusted iron mass above her head and swung it down at the woman with tremendous force. Her aim was to strike the lady with either the bill or the arm of the anchor, swinging for her center of mass. Shields rarely helped her foes in the past since between the weight of the anchor standing at around a hundred pounds, at least thirty pounds heavier than the heaviest maul, and her unearthly strength most wooden shields would splinter apart in a single blow. Even metal shields found themselves pierced and dented into uselessness within a couple shots from her unconventional weapon. She didn't expect much different from this one either.

So! From the top...

There was a job, apparently, that this creature - This elf? No, that can't be... - wanted done that was apparently up north. He didn't lay on the specifics of whatever it was. He just seemed rather desperate and scared. Something told the dragon that this man was not really in control of events here, that he may not even be in control of nearly as much funds as he claimed that they were going to reap as a result. It seemed more like he was so in need of assistance or to keep things in line that he would promise anything. Transparent and weak... But even still, one wondered just what it was that he needed performed so badly.

Unfortunately, before any further information could be gleaned, there was a problem. Or rather, the continuation of a problem. As far as the dragon was concerned, that ork was handling things, which allowed him to re-focus onto different matters, such as the job and perhaps more conversation with the demon. However, in the midst of the issues that the Ork was trying to halt, the Paladin - Who do you shout 'Dammit!' to when there are no more gods? - had gone completely out of her mind, with a shout that was WAY TOO LOUD to be considered normal! The scaley warrior again wanted to shout at the Paladin from his memory, but he stopped himself and shook his head, remembering that that time was gone. He was not where he use to be. This was not a Paladin of the Sacred Flame.

It didn't help that the man he'd put in his place before was now making said woman think the dead gods were on her side as she attempted to strike down the peacekeeping ork. The shouting was starting to get on his nerves. Honestly, you give off ONE triumphant roar, and everyone believes they need to be the object of attention now. Well, that was quite enough of that. As the elf was now appealing to someone who...who smelled dead, the dragon decided to quietly draw out the pole-arm that was on his back... And once a few particular actions played out, he simply slipped in to get somewhere out of the Paladin's line of sight to bonk her on the head with the flat of his weapon, trying to knock her out.

"Forget the gods. Heed the words of Endrokin, and shut your wailing mouth."

Aredis would continue straining until letting out a quick breath and collapse to his knees and hands in exasperation. The greenery that had come from the earth had almost immediately wilted and died. So his power was nearly non exist ant it seemed. So much distress snaked through the elderly man's head and seemed to almost strangle his thoughts and blur his focus. How could he fail so badly with even the most basic of things? It mattered little. The gods were dead and Aredis was nearly powerless. When he had caught his breath he looked up to assess the situation before him. This was not going to end well and to think he would have to work alongside this gaggle of misfits. Blood trickled from his nose and slowly pooled at the the top of his upper lip before landing on the cracked brown earth, a darkened maroon. He had begun to feel faint and attempted to stand, nearly using his cane to balance himself in a half standing positioning. Then his arms and legs gave way and lurched forward, the ground rushing up to meet his face and chest. Then it all went black for him.

Things were coming towards her. She watched as the anchor swung, actually rolling her eyes as she did so. If they expected to be able to kill her with that swing, they had another thing coming for them. Stepping inside the anchor's guard, she looked up at the figure swinging it around and froze for a second. She may not have had divine blessing still, but divine senses never really faded, and that... That was an undead person. A very powerful undead person. The moment of her being frozen proved to be her downfall, as she stared too much at one target to see the other. That would be the orc crashing into her then.

As she spun through the air thanks to the collision with an orc, she felt something knock her on the head. With a clunk that she felt throughout her entire body, the top of the glaive smacked her on her unprotected head. Unlike some monks, she did not have a brow made of iron, and so that sent her toppling down like a sack of bricks, barely even swaying as she did so. It was as if someone had just switched off her brain for a second, and when she came back to consciousness, she was flat on her back and with a spinning head.

On the bright side, she now had a reason for a headache beyond alcohol. Moaning, she rubbed the top of her head and attempted to sit up, only to fall back down and nearly bash her head open on the flagstones for the second time. She groaned a little and turned over onto her front, using her shield to push herself back onto her knees. "Ow," she managed to mutter out, before her brain finally decided to inform her that it had taken enough punishment today, and her eyes rolled back in her head, the paladin's poor cranium finding itself in another encounter with the flagstones.

Urdal watched, eyes wide, as the armored woman brought her anchor down with the intent to kill. That was what he perceived, and that was he figured would have happened if the paladin was not successful enough at avoiding the, arguably, lazy attack. Then Orky crashed into her and brought her down to the ground. Another thing, which happened in this tiny window of time, was the dragon person bringing his weapon down on the woman's head. All of this appeared too much.

He raised his hands, trying to think of what to say, but then he let them fall down. This was happening for the second time today. He was simply at a loss. The half-elf looked to the large, red and black creature, then his gaze moved over to the unconscious priest on the ground, then he took note of the fact that things had somewhat calmed themselves. Taking a deep breath, having a few thoughts run through his head, Urdal concluded that he needed to try to take the reigns.

"Okay, listen up! I've got this here job that needs doin', and I thin it's good if we do it fast, so don't do that again!" He announced after clearing his throat to attract their attention. Now they could probably start doing things the way they should be done, he figured.