Directly against the advise of Arlo, just like that two of the strangers took off into the shadows. He hoped they knew what they were doing, last thing he wanted was to find them again as corpses. Arlo turned towards the dwarf again, this time able to give him his full attention. The golems following him were quite impressive and intimidating, and hardly looked like ancient relics. One of the smaller once was carrying a light, not a spell, much brighter than a torch or lamp. The crafty little man sure knew what he was doing.

"Hey, thanks anyway. I've got to go too... got a lot of work to do tonight. If I come and buy you a drink tomorrow, will you show me how your friends work?" Arlo proposed, putting his hood back over his head. The teeth of the skull headpiece rested just above his eyes, and he held out his palm to cast a light of his own. As bright and yellow as the daylight, it was a smaller scale version of the simulated daylight which lit his hometown. A familiar magic to any leveret.

Well, simply going along with it like it wasn't sarcasm at all wasn't any fun, Gerard mused, not at all. Though he continued to wear a neutral expression now that this knight was going on about exotic tastes, he was a tad irritated at the fact that his progress through the swamp had been interrupted by a man seeking to likely indebt someone over offering transit via horseback. Though the man's composure was commendable, he had to admit. "Yes, well, stumbling into them at night is a tad less pleasant. Cleaning the gunk off one's boots is a tedious affair, at best."

Gerard had returned any weapons being held to their holsters, since this man seemed to intend no obvious ill will. Considering he had not ridden him down, fully armed and attacking, one could have simply gone with him being some knight returning from duties abroad or the like. Given the politics and infighting of his home, however, Gerard was slow to trust anyone who was graced with such quality of equipment. Though he reiterated his offer, Gerard had a temptation to simply turn and continue his pace through the swamp like he had been already, though the explanation did give him pause. Did not expect a debt in return? What sort of madness was that? Perhaps he had grown far too used to the interactions of his home and surrounding lands, but offering aid for the sake of being helpful was rare, and he at least adopted a more pleasant tone as he responded.

"You've not spent much time in Saker Keep, then. Any hand offered is sure to conceal a knife, at best, up the sleeve, and gods knows what behind their back. Your horse looks burdened enough with a knight with full arms and armor, though if you insist on helping, I will follow the path you make through the swamp instead. That would vastly increase the pace of my progress towards fairer grounds." It was an olive branch of sorts, as far as the magitech inventor was concerned, given his initial assumption of the man having offered his aid for little more reason than to create a debt between the two of them. Of course, it also helped considering he could, if things proved to be dangerous or suspicious, also simply vanish from the path and resume the route he was going to take originally.

@AtomicNut

"Hey, thanks anyway. I've got to go too... got a lot of work to do tonight. If I come and buy you a drink tomorrow, will you show me how your friends work?" said the human

Darius watched the others leave, he was surprised at their reaction, he half expected the lady to stay for the protection of his light. If she wanted to be eaten by the shadow things that was her business. The knight would be fine though, his horse was a curiosity and Darius wanted to know how it worked.

"Eh? Oh, yes a few Ales will be great. What friends do you mean?" he followed the Human's gaze to the constructs and grunted grumpily in a way only a dwarf can. "humpf, Nay lad. Constructs like these bastards are a secret of mine clan and ye know how dwarves can be about their secrets. Hah!" He laughed sure that the human knew how stubborn dwarves where. Before looking down one of the streets towards the Tavern. "Anyway, good luck Lad. I best be leaving" He streched with a great groan of an old man "These old bones need their rest"

He turned to leave calling the constructs to him, once out of sight of the human he called a stop quietly and told his Defender to go and find one of the shadow beasts. The construct lumbered off into the darkness, while Darius dug around in his cart for a few containers specifically a wired cage and a large glass bottle with a wide mouth. A few moments later he heard metallic boots stomping quickly in the nearby alley. It was getting rather noisy, he heard some crates or barrels crush with a sound of splintering wood. Darius winced he didn't actually want a confrontation with the guards and the commotion would draw them sooner or later.

The construct returned with a fist full of inky black that writhed in its grasp clawing to escape. "hah, well done you fat bastard" Darius considered the shadow thing and decided capture it in the jar wrapping the jar in a thick bundle of cloth made the inside of he jar dark and using the light to.. encourage the creature it went to hide in the jar which was quickly sealed trapping the monster.

He sighed remembering his last words to the human, his old bones did need a rest. With that thought he returned to the tavern and had his cart placed in the small stable attached and had the guardian keep watch over it. Once inside he laid a few gold on the counter paying for a few rooms and a large cup of ale. He got himself a mild buzz and a good nights rest.

Sir Kay

Sir Kay looked for a single moment at the traveller, as he continued to elaborate on declining his offer. Yeah yeah, You just want to be the cool adventurer mistrusting everything. I've seen that a lot. He thought to himself, not showing outward signs on how utterly droll he found the traveller explanation.

"Why would someone spend more than a night in that place, even? If you say every hand is answered with a knife, then that place is living on borrowed time. For no one will help when said place is brought to heel." Sir Kay answered as he tugged the reins. "Then so be it." He said, as he turned the rump of his horse, pointing once more in the direction of travel, straining the sights to check on suspicious puddles of battle?

"I'm sir Kay of Stony Cross. Who might you be, tinkerer?" He added, quickly finishing the assesment of the other traveller.

@Eisenhorn

Proceeding down the road, Kaite's head appeared to be turned in a direction somewhere between watching the city and the road in spite of the darkness. The intermittent moonlight between the trees made navigation disturbingly easy for the construct who merely shut out what their senses could not manage in order to paint a rough picture of their surroundings.
...'Disturbing' being a term used also strongly associated with how one of their eyes focused on the town while the other vigorously scanned across the ground as they walked. Like having a lazy eye...on purpose...with effect. Gross.

At a point in their travel, they simply stopped and turned on their heels to face the gates in the distance.
Cleaning their gear was hardly a challenge, having become highly proficient at it in the nearly hundred years of service before their imprisonment in the sunken wreck of an old war machine now reclaimed by nature. However, this was with the understanding that locals of this region were willing to barter for soaps and rags. A risk Kaite was willing to take in spite of having nothing to trade with, not even their sword which was smashed unto an unrecognizable pulp under a ton of dead metal, somewhere. Regardless, cutting through the swamp seemed as rational and efficient as the construct was willing to reason. Besides, there seemed to already be people in the region, so how trecherous could- ~SPLAT~

Kaite moved to take a step into the swamp which was unfathomably more viscous than he'd counted on, causing him to immediately and stiffly faceplant onto a slime.

The slime was snoozing then, merely a puddle sitting on the surface of the water. Suddenly disturbed by a mass passing through his body, instinct took over and he quickly surrounded the body of the intruder with his entire volume. This would normally be the part where the slime would begin digesting whatever stumbled into him, but he quickly noticed that this was not typical prey. His lavender gooey body became as thick and sticky as tree sap as it worked its way around his would-be meal's entire figure. When it finally gave up on getting a meal out of the situation, he pulled himself from the face of the victim.

"ⁿᵒ... ᵉᵃᵗ?" A voice called certainly from the slime but from no mouth to speak of, instead it was a series of incredibly accurate audible vibrations. "ʷʰᵃᵗ. ʸᵒᵘ..."

Being drenched was...unfavorable. However, something else took hold as his vision went dark and a liquid Kaite concluded had to be water rushed over him.
Sinking! He was sinking and the darkness poured into his senses in a torrent, dragging his mind back to the bottom of a lake in some long forgotten time. Where panic should have set in, Kaite froze, eyes darting around in Cider's form in confusion. He wasn't sinking but instead was being held by something that clung tightly to his frame. Confliction wracked Kaite's paralyzed thoughts as being surrounded in such a way might as well left him submerged, but it was a welcome alternative to sinking.

With the ooze peeling from Kaite's face, his expression was not that of pleasant neutrality but vaguely shocked, especially as the slime spoke. In all politeness, Kaite replied to the best of his ability. "Je devrais être en train de couler..." the construct dully hissed a tone of disbelief, having yet to make an attempt at motion though, as the words sank in, he figured he should clarify in the northern language. "I am not edible" he chirped with confidence before extending a hand as if offering to shake. "Iz thanks. Zee name ouf my design iz 'Kaite'" Kaite concluded, intent on making a good first impression.

The strange figure Cider had formed around spoke in words he had never heard before, and he could only understand parts of it's sentence.

"ⁿᵃᵐᵉ... ᵏᵃᶦᵗᵉ." The slime remembered this kind of phrase, some types of prey used it to call themselves different words. It must've been their name. Did he have a name? He thought of another who had given him one, but he could not recall. Was that years ago? Or just yesterday? He could not remember. But suddenly it came to him, a faded memory floating within him.

"ᶜᶦᵈᵉʳ." He finally spoke. And slowly started to pull more of his mass away and freeing the construct down to it's shoulders, sure that he wasn't going to get a meal.

"ⁿᵃᵐᵉ... ᶜᶦᵈᵉʳ"

"Iz certainly a pleasure to be meetink vith you...Cider" Kaite warmly replied, orienting themselves to attempt to stand. The fall had been woefully unexpected and the filth made ruin of his robe beyond what was worth cleaning. Regrettably, given the opportunity, Kaite would have to devote time to making another one.
"I must ask you to release me as I am intendink on proceedink szrough zee svamp...alzough zee road vould be less treacherous" the construct said with a sound resembling a disappointed sigh, shaking his hand still enveloped in slime. In all honesty, he hadn't counted on the water being as deep as it was and being even lightly submerged as he was caused a sensation akin to anxiety, visibly shaking though his unwavering expression betrayed this instinct.

Cider did not understand what Kaite meant, but desired to let go by that point anyway. Without a word, the slime's viscosity became much thinner and fell off the side of him like water. Kaite was free, but wet from the experience. Since he had been awoken by the even, Cider got around to shaping himself into his usual humanoid shape and stood up in the water. He looked like a transparent man had fallen into a vat of grape jam, and his 'hair' flowed freely from the top of his 'head' as if it was a waterfall. Some of his material took a darker tone on the front side of his head, giving the illusion of facial features.

There he stood staring at the curiosity that fell into him, waist deep in the pool he slept in. He didn't understand most of what they were saying, but decided that he would watch them for a while longer. After all, his other visitor hadn't come for him in a long time. Or maybe they had, he didn't know. He always struggled with time.

Being released, Kaite immediately retreated a few steps back towards the edge of the pool simply to be more sure of his footing. Kaite curiously watched his newfound associate reconstitute themselves into a shape which allowed them humanoid features albeit watery. He politely clapped, assuming it was a performance of some sort before making a sound similar to clearing his throat before extending a hand, eyebrows lightly raised. "Vell, Cider, iz seemink as zough vee can attempt zeis once more now zeht you possess faculties to" Kaite chirped, eyes going in opposite directions, up and down and lightly crossed to observe all of his associate's new form as it was certainly different from anything he'd even seen before.

Cider observed Kaite similarly, though since his eye was technically his entire body he already gotten an intimate knowledge of every detail. The gesture Kaite preformed was new to him, no one was crazy enough to reach out to a slime willingly. Unsure of what it meant, Cider mimicked it as best he could, from posture down to the exact shape of the outreached hand. He did not complete the handshake, but had his hand adjacent to Kaite's.

Kaite, however, took the initiative to lean in enough to take Cider's hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. The doll-like joints of his fingers tensed, feeling for a bone structure to gauge the strength of his grip, but failing in this due to Cider's anatomy, decided on a gentler touch rather than squeezing his hand off. With a few shakes, the construct's pleasant expression momentarily shifted to adapt a deeper and more genuine expressive edge.
With the conclusion of the friendly gesture being signified by three formal shakes, Kaite released their formed hand and offered a bow before commenting, "Ehn szank you for catchink me. I vould have sank, ohzervise..."
Coldly, their expression faded back to their neutral demeanor, eyes clicking with a few more blinks. "Until vee meet again, Cider ouf zee svamp" he chirped and began to clamber up the bank to get back onto the road maybe a meter or two away.

The way in which Kaite spoke was different from what he was used to, so much so that Cider had decided that it was an entirely different language from what his other friend had taught him. Cider followed him from a short distance, occasionally losing shape and moving along instead nearby in the water. He had already decided before to follow this new stranger, even to the lengths of leaving his home behind him. He experience a new kind of feeling by doing so, but did not know what to call it. He wanted to learn more, experience more than waiting for another meal to cross his path. He wanted to leave the swamp behind.

Now aware of the terrain's fickle nature, Kaite's journey through the swamp was assuredly more stable than it'd been. While he'd been drenched by Cider's attempt at eating him, the only muck to speak of clung to the bottom of sturdy boots. The road Kaite had been on faded to more or less a trail, hinting to which way the cart from earlier had come from, likely having come from the other corner of the T-junction and merely plowed into the mire.
Lights appeared to move throughout the swamp, pausing at a point while accented by the moonlight. One by foot and the other on horseback as if having a discussion by how they remained stationary. The path was quickly becoming narrow, leading Kaite to need to zig-zag through the patches of serviceable ground. Regardless, he'd be forced to at the very least pass by the figures at this rate.

Coming up on the two, Kaite lifted a hand in greeting, offering a simple "Bonsoir" with a chirp, slowing his pace to stand as it did not seem like there was much room to pass without risking a jump to another patch of suspicious-looking soil.

@Eisenhorn @AtomicNut

@Jojo

---

Eep! Curfew!? Oh dear oh dear she had been so caught up in her books and thoughts she had completely forgot about it! Oooh, that wasn't good at all. She was confident she could handle herself, even if she didn't exactly look like it, but she had no intention of getting arrested. Miren sighed, considering her options. The night was too lovely to just be cooped up, and she certainly wasn't scared of some annoying pixies, she had encountered far scarier things before.

She glanced back at the odd gathering. They seemed to be leaving. Well, that was fine too. Less people around made her feel much better. But then, that human, Arlo she overheard him introduce himself as...she'd recognize that magic anywhere! How did a human of all people know Leveret magic? Not that she could really speak, being someone who wasn't exactly good at the magical aspects of her species, but still! That was incredibly odd, given her kinds isolationist tendencies. Curiosity had gotten the better of her, as it had so many times before. At least this time it wasn't her pilfering a a rare and obviously booby trapped historical artifact.

"Uhm uhm!" Hopping out of the shadows after most other people left, she approached Arlo. "Excuse me! Human person!" Oh way to go Miren, class-a greeting. "I erm, couldn't help but to n-notice your...magic..."

Arlo laughed politely at the dwarfs response, of course he wouldn't discuss it with a human but it was worth a shot anyways. He saw the old man off as he went into the tavern, waving goodbye to the man and promising that he would still honor that drink anyway.

Arlo was just about to return to his patrol, but was suddenly startled by the sudden voice. Arlo flung himself around to catch eyes with none other than a Leveret. In fact, he recognized her from Moonfall. As if he had been caught doing a crime, he quickly covered his face with his robe. As if casting Leveret magic wasn't clue enough, he was an easily recognized figure in Moonfall being the tallest person among the Leveret and a rather prolific mage there, but no one knew he was actually a human.

"Uh... what do you mean? Daylight? I learned this from an old pre-war book." he lied.

"Most spend time their seeking magitech, or hextech depending on who you ask, which is its prime draw. Though anyone wishing to bring it to heel would have to cut through Dwarven held mountains, or approach it from a rather open, exposed road network. So the richest houses there hold power and squabble, though nothing unites distrustful neighbors like an external problem threatening to rule over them all." Explaining the politicking and internal stances of his home was not really worth the effort, given that on any given week, it was hard to decipher who really stood with who. Dwarves were left alone, as they were the strongest trading partners of Saker Keep. The dwarves, for their credit, used Saker Keep as a place to stock up properly and take stock of progress of magitech by the denizens of the town.

"Gerard Voss." Not bothering with titles, or the like, Gerard fell in step following after the mounted knight. He maintained the pale light that had allowed the knight to, likely in part with the mutterings and talking to himself, track him down. While one might argue that the light would ruin natural night vision, he found it worked out better having the light instead of relying on the little bit of bioluminescence and any moonlight that was able to penetrate the swamp. Moving forward steadily, the light did eventually reveal another traveler, a rather fancifully dressed young man from the looks of it, approaching from the opposite direction. The manner of greeting was in a language foreign to him, which caught his attention. The gesture made it out to be a greeting, but he cocked an eyebrow all the same as he remarked on the fact that, in the pale light that he focused forward on the new figure, it seemed he had stumbled into a slime pit, or at least something rather viscous in nature.

"Good evening. Appears you took a misstep into a swamp pool, eh?" He slowed as necessary, assuming that this Sir Kay would be stopping to be a figure to be some sort of good doer of a knight and offer to help this fellow to the town. Doubly so since he had not taken up the offer to ride along with the knight.

@AtomicNut@Lumiere

@Jojo

---

"O-oh did you?" Miren smiled. Well, that sounded like a complete lie, if she was to be honest. She had read lots of books and most books like that were only in Moonfall. Granted, she hadn't been home in quite awhile. Well, she wasn't going to question it. Come to think of it, he looked pretty familiar too. "That's neat. Uhm, a-anyways! Sorry, I really should be going. I just uhm, that magic is really common in Moonfall so I thought maybe..." She cleared her throat, shaking her head, raising her hands in front of her in a mildly embarrassed fashion. "Right. Curfew. I completely forgot _again. Okaythanksbyesorrytobotheryouseeyoulater!"

The last sentence was said with forceful swiftness as she made a hasty retreat. Ah, why did she say see you later? She probably wouldn't! Wait...didn't he actually say something about meeting everyone tomorrow or something? Maybe she should go then? Well, in whatever case, she quickly ran back down the street before Arlo could stop her.

Arlo laughed politely at the dwarfs response, of course he wouldn't discuss it with a human but it was worth a shot anyways. He saw the old man off as he went into the tavern, waving goodbye to the man and promising that he would still honor that drink anyway.

Alone again, Arlo ran through the events of the last few minutes in his head. A shadow sprite attack before nightfall... a few weeks ago Arlo doubted shadow sprites were even capable of an outright attack and now they were becoming a real threat. That elf woman, by the looks of her and the gear she was carrying he guessed she was just a hunter on her way home, but he had a feeling there was more to her than met the eye. The knight who talked in riddles and looked like a riddle himself, he brought a warning of something worse to come but Arlo had yet to decide if it held any real meaning to it or if he was just a spirit that was bored to madness. And the dwarf, of course, with his machinations. Worst of all, a leveret. Not that he wasn’t fond of his own people, but they rarely left their home of Moonfall out of distrust of the men on the surface. Arlo didn’t expect to be seen by one, and might have just been discovered. They were all oddities in an exceedingly odd time in the capital city. And now that he thought about it, he didn't catch any of their names. No matter, he had plenty of time tomorrow to learn their names in the daylight, for now he had to move on if he was to do what he was here for.

He was close to the gate of the city walls, so tonight he decided to comb the south side of the city and work his way up road by road until he reached the castle. While he would admit to himself it wasn't exactly an efficient search method it was the best he could do alone. Along the path of his patrol he passed by a guard post, well lit and manned by two soldiers who glared at him as he passed.

"Filthy mage. You claim to be helping us, but how are we to know you are not behind the attacks yourself?"

"If I were the sort to attack a city, why would you lot still be standing?" Arlo retorted, not slowing his pace.

"Ye can't scam a king if you kill his subjects. I bet you summoned these creatures so you could "save" us with your fancy spells and collect a reward."

Arlo did not respond to the further accusations of the men, as to not escalate the confrontation. The hatred for magic ran deep in this place, but the reasons were not made clear to him. He knew that the capital city was a rare case for not having a mage of some kind working for the government, most places had a magical adviser of some sort even if it's citizens were typically non-mages. Something happened here that he was not being told.

Counting sprites became kind of like counting sheep as he went along, each of them scurried away from him when they saw the daylight spell approaching. 1...2...3... it became a little harder to stay awake as the night went on. To them, he imagined, it must look like the sun was rising and gave them quite a scare. 4...5...10...20...30...

Wait, something wasn't right. There were so many here. He had moved so far along his route that he was closer to the castle now, and it was an unlit and mostly unused portion of the city. The street was ruins, not wartime ancient, but not recent either. It's houses were reduced to rubble and splintered wood, it's road was overgrown, everything looked like it hadn't been touched in decades. Whatever happened here, the people of the capital were far to scared to go here and reclaim it. In fact Arlo didn't even remember seeing it before tonight and considered that perhaps the other buildings and walls of the capital were made precisely to hide this way.

If Arlo dropped his spell for even a moment here, it would likely result in his certain demise. But he pressed on, eager to see if the increased activity here was merely circumstantial to the low light and low population or if what he was looking for was here all along. It was hard to see the sprites move about outside of his circle of protective lighting, but he had a trick for that.

As he focused his thoughts and cast another spell, careful not to dispel his daylight. His skull headpiece sparked a glowing blue light from it's eye sockets, and he pulled it further down over his face so that he could see through them. Through the glow of this spell he could visibly see the mana stored in the bodies of each sprite, allowing him to see their shapes even in total darkness as long as they were within line of sight. The only downside to the spell was that it made seeing his physical surroundings more difficult, but he would navigate by way of sprite alone.

They behaved erratically, twitching and scratching and even sometimes attacking one another. Something was agitating them, now he was sure of it. It was close, and moving towards the highest count of sprites was pushing him closer and closer until he finally saw it. A massive pile of sprites all crawling over each other in a single spot. The sight of it put him in awe, he had never seen so many in one place before. An anti-social creature all forming a supercolony? Not possible. The solution to the crisis was in the center of the mass. He dispelled the manasight and looked at the squirming black mass.

Arlo might have performed the same flash spell he used to save the woman from before, but he couldn’t without risking the loss of his daylight spell and the subsequent wave of surviving sprites. Instead he slowly moved toward the mass, and one by one the sprites instinctually moved away from the object and away from his light. After a long process of slowly advancing on the mass, left at the center was a silver necklace.

“All of that, and this is what caused it?” he asked himself, before reaching down and grabbing the strange jewelry by it’s pennant.

The moment Arlo touched the tarnished face of the object something snapped, or stretched, he wasn't sure as the sensation was entirely unique. He found himself in a dark stone room lit only by a few torches and a brazier. As he regained his bearings he noticed a robed figure sitting at a half rotten desk with its back to him. He held up his hand to greet the person when he noticed that his had was ghostly and translucent, he hadn't made a sound and had only briefly thought of speaking when he heard the soft thump of a tome closing.

The figure rose and turned towards Arlo, as the hood was revealed by light Arlo could see the face of the creature. It was like a dried mummy with points of light sunken into its empty eye sockets. The creature searched the room and Arlo was sure that the corpse's gaze passed over him without being noticed and a sense of relief washed over him. Just then the corpse's eyes locked onto where Arlo was.

"What is it?" wheezed the corpse angling his head a fraction "Is it a lost soul?" He clenched his fist and tendrils of black snaked around Arlo and started to squeeze making it impossible to move. "Is it here to serve the Lich?.. No, it would not serve Mortan it is weak and afraid. but where is the rest of it?" Mortan said as he stepped forward and placed a hand of the Spirit of Arlo. Despite his fear Arlo felt a moment of deep curiosity, How could a physical being touch an incorporeal body so easily. He dismissed the thought, he was in real danger academia was not important right now.

Arlo tried to speak but couldn’t manage through the tendrils’ grasp.

"If it will not tell..." Said the Lich ominously "It will lead" The lich's hand moved and placed its tapered, almost talon like, fingers against Arlo's chest and pushed sinking the sharp fingers almost an inch deep before saying a Word of Power that Arlo didn't understand over his own shout of pain and surprise. He blinked and was back in the city kneeling on the ground clutching the pendant he found so tightly that the jagged edges had cut into his palm welling up a few drops of blood. With another wave of relief he noticed that his light keeping the shadow creatures at bay still shown bright.

A heart beat passed as Arlo tried to reconcile what had happened when he heard the voice of the Lich again and a soft glow coming from the amulet the same light as the Lich's eyes "This place.. It brings me to a place. A place i remember." Arlo tried to drop the pendant but his arm and fingers disobeyed him. "No! It lies. This place is ruin, but no, it doesn’t. It cannot lie to me like this... This place rose from ash. no, no, no, the war must END!" the lich finally shouted and severed its tie. Arlo's fingers relaxed and the pendant fell to the cobblestone.

Exhausted and in pain from the experience, he collapsed to the knees and grabbed at his chest where he thought he would find a wound but found nothing. It took a few moments of labored breathing to get the strength to get back up.

A curse. Of course. He kicked himself for being so careless in picking up the artifact with his bare hands, which were now bleeding from the pendant. He couldn’t remove the curse on his own, his merits in magic lied mostly in illusion and protection spells. For now, he would have to carry it with him and make a journey to Ashton and ask the healers of the church to help him. Knowing now not to hold it with his bare hands he removed a bandage from his robes and instead of first taking care of his hand he picked up the pendant with the cloth and wrapped it carefully.

He was eager to be done with this misadventure and wanted to leave for Ashton as soon as he could, but he was so exhausted it would have to wait until morning. He shuffled back to his quarters, placed the pendant on his bedside, removed his robes and after a thorough search for any shadow sprites that managed to get inside he fell into his bed and immediately into a deep sleep.

Sir Kay

Kay gripped his reins as he focused on the road ahead, watching Gerard Voss ramble about Saker's Keep politics. Was this what they call town pride? While he had described formidable defenses, sir Kay thought that even that would not be able to fend off some of the enemies he once himself had faced. He absentmindedly patted the chestpiece of his armor.

When the other traveller greeted them, Sir Kay was quick to reach for his blade. Something was not right with the newcomer. It did feel out of place. He didn't look too human. Plus those linguistics... they were quite anticuated. Still he did not seem hostile, nor had any obvious hallmarks of evil, and had shown himself in a greeting. Was he ...actually a she? He didn't know.

"Bonsoir". He replied in the same kind of greeting. "There seems to be quite an influx of travellers in this swamp, mister Voss." He looked at his improptu travel partner. "I did not think slimes were that much of a fancy among the folk." He reiterated as he then eyed the new companion.

"Traveller, the road is treacherous. You should join us as well in reaching town. The numbers will offer safety from any undesirables." Kay added, urging the newcomer to come with them. "I am sir Kay of Stony Cross, by the way." He finished as he resumed his march.

Looking between the two as they spoke, Kaite was prompted to look back the way he had came at the mention of slimes, now at least having some idea of what Cider was. He certainly fit the description.
After a few seconds' pause, Kaite finally spoke, having decided that 'Northern Common' was the language of the region if even the local fauna spoke it. "Ah! Eit iz...and I have. Zee...slimes...vehr very polite. One named Cider even saved me from sinkink. I understand vhy locals vould...'fancy'...zehm" Kaite replied without breaking expression, though he spoke in a broken manner as if trying out words they were unfamiliar with. As if quietly understanding the concept of the words, he offered a nod in Kay's direction as the innocently pleasant tone reflecting the term for fancying slimes in a 'you said it, not me' manner.

"Company iz a sensible notion ehn I accept your offer, sir Kay ouf Stony Cross," Kaite chirped, pleased by the man's decision not to draw his sword so rudely on a stranger, "I am known as Le chasseur Kaite, le tueur d'Isparia, le chevalier de Maison Sinclair. Alzough, 'Kaite' vill suffice."

Isparia, the Empire of Ispar. By now it was a jungle long since bombed out and regrown as untamed wilderness bid 'good-riddance' to by its neighbors and allies. In its time during the war, all manner of horror stories poured out of the region bordering ethical similarities to the 'Faydark Transhumanism Endeavor', a concept of using magic to warp the fabric of a creature's essence to turn them into...something else. The goal had been to change humans into elves, but the monsters born from such efforts, the warlords found, were better suited to be released as beasts of war. Shock troops driven insane from their affliction, attacking anything in sight with the ferocity and strength of half a dozen madmen...which many were crafted from...that or prisoners of war, prisoners of criminal acts, peasantry willing to sacrifice themselves for a modest sum paid to their family, or even the orphans of such matters once the demand grew.
This, being a summarized version of only one of a number of stories to leak out, earned the surviving aristocratic refugees little sympathy in their time before the history of the region faded into obscurity.

Kaite obliged in walking with the two, reaching a hand up to pet Kay's horse at a point and receiving a nervous whinny in response and shaking its head away from the construct's hand. The pleasant expression on his face dulled as he lowered his hand, giving up on such curiosity.

@AtomicNut@Eisenhorn

---

Alexander might've vanished from the view of the gathered party, but he didn't quite leave the city. Alexander observed where the shadow sprites had been flowing around the city, looking for a source or gathering point. It was only luck that he found the abandoned home just after Arlo was leaving. He thought to close the distance and see what Arlo had found, but the bleeding hand and gingerly held object told Alexander everything he needed to know. Arlo had found a solution of some kind, though perhaps it was not pleasant finding it. Alexander would concern himself over that later, as for now there needed to be a purge.

Alexander dismounted Grigori, patting the horse's neck a few times Alexander turned towards the abandoned home and drew his sword. His eyes, or lack thereof, were not hindered by darkness. Shadow Sprites swarmed towards him as he approached, but Alexander didn't hesitate. A few quick swings and the sprites were slain. Alexander pressed forward, hacking and slashing his way through the swarms of Shadow Sprites. Eventually, Alexander stood in the same room that Arlo found the pendant. Alexander nodded to himself as he observed the details of the room. Turning, Alexander stabbed a few still twitching Shadow Sprites as he left the building. With a harsh swing of his sword Alexander discarded the filth left upon his blade onto the ground. Mysteriously, as he did that, the blade returned to pristine condition, as if it had never been used at all. His armor and shield cleaned and repaired themselves as well. Truly, Alexander was a mysterious force.

Alexander sheathed his sword now, and instead of whistling, as most would to summon a horse, he merely softly said "Grigori." and the horse appeared before him. Alexander climbed into the saddle and hooked his feet into the stirrups easily. Dawn was approaching by now, and there were things to do. Alexander tapped his heels into Grigori's sides and the horse took a step forward. Now Alexander was back upon castle grounds. Dismounting, Alexander nodded to Grigori and began to walk into the castle. Alexander was quite direct in his travels as he approached Arlo's quarters. Rays of sunlight were starting to peek through the various windows of the castle as Alexander stopped outside of Arlo's door. Raising a fist, Alexander pounded upon the door harshly before he issued a command through the sturdy door. "Rouse yourself Arlo! The day has begun and there is much that needs doing."

Alexander lowered his fist and waited for Arlo's response. He would knock upon the door again if one did not come quickly. Alexander did not want to be caught within the castle, as having to fight his way out would be quite unfavorable. Not to mention the bounty that would be placed upon him. That would be quite unpleasant to deal with, especially considering his unique and unalterable appearance.

Quite unpleasant indeed.

The sound of fabric shuffling awoke her from her deep sleep. Lazily, slowly, she began to stretch her spindly limbs in an effort to regain her bearings. Towering columns of smoke dominated the landscape that was revealed, as well as the cold sun who only brought moderate warmth to the land. Yet, inside the chambers of the Queen, the heat that permeated the rock of its surroundings made Cauldron Keep a place to rest, even if one could never rest for long, given how the black volcanic stone castle was sitting under an active volcano.

Some kings in the past had detested it, but for Queen Lamia? It was the perfect power base. Close to large gatherings of mana, with an ashen setting good for her children. Her eyes rested upon the maid who was now trying to brush her hair and offer some clothes to change from her nightgown from. Would she ever suspect that who she was serving found her almost as tasty as useful? The irony made her chuckle so slightly.

Several high pitched roars were heard, as reptilian creatures, larger than any bird took to fly over the hot air and fumes of the mountain, in energetic acrobatic displays. The young and small were always so full of vitality. Surprisingly the maid did not even flinch. She had grown up used to the creatures, and even under their roars she kept on getting her Queen ready.

When all was said and done, however, Queen Lamia's breakfast was rudely interrupted by a man who desired a hearing urgently. Normally this would have warranted a hefty punishment, but men who claimed to speak on behalf of the Gods were afforded courtesies that a lot of other folks would have found hard to receive. He stood in front of the throne room. Rude and with a sense of empowerment. Lamia did not break her stride as she walking elegantly and sat on the throne, now dressed in a regalia of red silk, pelts and gold. Her piercing golden eyes met that with the other man.

He was redder than some of the stones that lied in the belly of the volcano. His robes could barely contain his ... ponderous presence as his bald head shone in the light of the morning. His double chin wobbled ominously as meaty hands covered in rings pointed accusatory fingers at herself. He was being exceedingly rude.

"YOU SORCEROUS HARLOT. KNOW THAT YOUR TIME IS NIGH. THIS HUMBLE SERVANT KNOWS. REPENT AND CONFESS YOUR SINS." He denounced, in a booming voice.

Humble? Any more gold and he would be a crown. Lamia thought to herself, before mentally steeling herself. She felt cold and cramped. Restrained in such a small uncomfortable form. "So...Bishop Bard, is this about the tithes?"

"THESE TITHES WERE THE CONTRITION OF THE CROWN TOWARDS THE CHURCH, BUT THEY ARE A MERE PART OF IT! NO PIOUS MAN CAN STAND THIS FARCE ANY LONGER. A HEIRLESS QUEEN SHALL NEVER SIT ON THE THRONE! BE GONE WITH YOU! OR YOU WILL FACE THE WRATH OF THE GODS!"

Lamia rested her head on her hand, eyeing the furious display. Ferocious indeed. It was no secret the church had taken kindly she was playing with the big boys in what was otherwise a male-dominated society. She also knew that some of the extended family of the king, had taken this chance to erode her standing, in order to seize the crown themselves. An admirable goal, but they should have chosen their opponents more carefully.

"Will it help if I make the payment?" Lamia said with a dispassionate interest.

"IT WILL NOT SAVE YOUR STANDING, BUT IT WILL BE SEEN AS ACT OF CONTRITION." The portly man said. Without further prompt, the Queen stood up, her eyes fixated on the priest.

"All right, I will give your gold. Follow me to the vaults, Bishop. Brandt, escort us and close the door afterwards." The queen said, grabbing a torch and indicated where to make the descent. It was done in silence, among a corridor of black stones that sank deeper and deeper into the earth. Underneath the castle, a massive dome of a cave had been made a vault, a thick steel door covering its entrance.

Oddly enough there were no guards. The bishop did not notice even as the door closed after him. He saw the glitter of gold in the distance. He began to move pretty fast for a man his size would allow, the queen thought. She then started to discard her pieces of clothing silently. He also failed to notice that.

He was too engrossed counting the coins. Something fast and scaly tackled him. A dragonling, one of the most young, was inside the vault. A quick reveal showed there was an entrance on one of the walls near the ceiling. Impossible for a human, but not for a young beast.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!" The bishop seemed furious, as he eyed the darkness. The queen was gone, her clothes had been set aside. Her voice, however, coyly spoke from the shadows of the vault.

"Oh, technically because the gold is his. The young ones like to play with the glitter it seems... It calms them down."

It was then when the cleric put two and two together. "This...is no vault." The raging inferno of his voice "It's actually a lair..." He said, as he then eyed the exit. The darkness was encroaching him. He could not see a thing. Frighteningly, he invoked the gods for more light. And he immediately regretted it.

"Took you long enough to realize, you fool." said a booming monstrous voice, before a mouth full of sword-like teeth, black as a night, closed upon him.

Upon her exit, a few minutes after, the guard was awaiting. "Your Majesty?"

"Search and destroy every single of these insurgents. I want them reduced to cinders. Thyrax will assist you if need be. But I want people to know this is the kind of thing I do not forgive." She commanded her thrall firmly. And then she recalled something. "I will send Ulf and Carexes once they have finished the diplomatic mission in Wanderneir."

"Ulf? Pardon me your majesty, but isn't he unsuitable for diplomatic purposes?" He answered.

"Exactly. He should be making a mighty fool of himself at the court soon.". Queen Lamia grinned. She only needed a reason to do what she liked to do the most. Conquer and raze.

Arlo woke to the loud sound of knocking on his door. He slowly peeled his face from his pillow and pushed himself up to a sitting position. He realized that sometime in the night he had completely disrobed down to his undergarments, a subconscious habit he could never really get out of when he had the leisure of his own private space. He looked the room over by the morning light to locate where he tossed his pants while he was sleeping. He found them at the foot of the bed and worked his legs into them before pulling them up to his waist and tying the belt that held them up. Deciding not to keep his guest waiting any longer while he looked for his other clothes he unlocked his door and pulled it open. Standing outside, the strange knight he had encountered before. It was the first time he saw the man off of his otherworldly horse, and the close proximity to the man intimidated Arlo a little bit but he held his composure.

"Oh, it's you." Arlo yawned, "I don't think I caught your name."

The mysterious 'fancy tatters'-clad foreigner who had introduced themselves as 'Kaite' broke off from the march Sir Kay and Gerard Voss soon after arriving through the gates of the town. Wordlessly, they merely walked off in a different direction at an intersection and off into the night. With the pace, sight was quickly lost but Kaite hadn't given it an ounce of consideration. There were objectives in place and it was best for everyone involved that the world continued to be small and acquaintances would be reacquainted at a later time. A servant should look the part.


_______________________________________________________

♫"Sew-ing through...hair and braids..."♪

"Y'know ya shouldn'ta be out this late, miss!"
Kaite stands with their back to the three men, his fingers sunk into the sides of a crate lid. Linins held within gated section behind a shop, the lock having made short work of with eyes and hands sensing the details of tumblers pressed and turned with a few articulately bent sections of wire. The man's voice was slurred but authoritative, one drink for the spirit, one more for courage before going out that night with his crew as a sort of neighborhood watch.

♫"Thick bone-y hands...with grief engraved..."♪

"I vahz not aware ouf zeis detail and offer my apologies," Kaite remarked with a deepening smile and a few clicks of eyelids intending to bat eyelids at the men to soften their disposition. The two in back with lanterns and swords drawn looked less than amused, recognizing thievery when they saw it. The first man, a middle-aged human by the look of it with a fairly trimmed and edged beard sighed and approached Kaite who made no motion to evade them as they took their hand. With a pull, the lid of the crate came off, clattering to the ground as Kaite had already gotten it off of this container and had been making to set it back, the nails into the holes they were pulled from.
The stocks of a clothier was the most obvious way to acquire raw materials, though he had specific tastes and while the cloth was of considerable quality, he knew what he was looking for.
"Eit vould be vise ouf you to release me before I am obligated to defend myself, stranger" Kaite politely chirped, being pulled away with ease due to their astonishingly light frame which caught the man off guard from how they nearly pulled what they thought was a woman off of their feet. "Y're welcome ta defend ye'self b'fore the court. Takin advantage 'a crisis t'go looting? Tch-shameful, young lady. Neh, I think ye'll be comin' wif'us n'bein thankful we ain the monst-" which was where the man's words were cut off as a resounding 'THUMP' of mahjikose carved out all but the back of his skull and the connecting vertebra.

♪"Grief engraved...thick bone-y hands...sew-ing hair -- sew-ing land..."♫

The other men stumbled from shock and the surprise of the ruthless abruptness of a what they thought was a mage turning so destructively violent. However Kaite never earned a single name by leaving a job half done. "Mage! Ma-" Was all the one on the left could scream out before a punch to the throat left them choking on their tracheal walls. The indent of knuckles already bruised as if having been mashed in with a hammer for what little give the ceramisteel of Kaite's knuckles had to offer. Grabbing the bladed edge of the sword the reeling and stunned man posessed with their other doll-like hand, they messily sunk the tool of destruction into the ribs of the third man who had enough wind-up to crack their own weapon against Kaite's neck from behind.

Kaite stumbled, having been blindsided, though the man had fallen into the sword, gutturally strangling his own cries with a flow of blood coughed out across the walls of the alleyway. The crumpled against a stack of crates, knocking one onto its other side as they clutched their wound and slowly struggled for each bubbling breath. The thief, this...nameless woman or...whatever it was! It stood, hand outstretched and holding its own head which had fallen into their open palm.

♫"Hay-ho! The ri-ver is low... Hay-ho! The sky is gold!"♪

Turning the head in their hand to look between the choking man clutching their knuckle-stomped throat, their eyes bulging and mouth foaming and the bleeding, drowning night watchman, the head opened its mouth. "Eit did not haf to be like zeis," They chirped, the polite tone having left along with their pleasant smile, replaced with a disappointed half-frown. It seemed almost comedic in a way as if this was as much of an accident as bumping into someone in the market and dropping something as a result. Kaite set their head back onto the neck-stump which clicked and creaked as their neck turned and arched to accept it.
With these final words, Kaite swiftly grabbed the handle of the sword still embedded in the third man's chest, putting their weight into driving it further before twisting and tearing it up at an odd angle which sent a smattering of blood both from the wound and the human's choked, gurgling screams. The blade held high, in one full motion, Kaite drove the blade into the second man's sternum, impaling him to the corner of the alleyway and the filth it bore host to.

The two groaned weakly, sobbing and kicking as they felt life drain their bodies.
With business concluded, Kaite turned and walked back to the open crates to quickly continue sifting through the contents...while ominous skittering and chattering cacophony of tiny jaws slowly grew to echo off of the walls of the claustrophobic hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kaite held up a hand, needle pinched between their thumb and index to draw a string, catching the glint of the morning sun. "Sew-ing szro-o-o-ough -- Ha-ir ehn braids - szik bone-y hands vith grief en-graved!" he sang, weaving vibrant strings into his old tatters to give it restored look. With the money in the men's pockets, he was able to reason a price with an inkeeper to use their washroom for the night. Behind him sat stacks of washed, wrung, dried and folded rags and towels for the week's use. Truly, service could be its own payment in the degree that Kaite simply enjoyed keeping his hands busy...in one way or another.

Three chewed corpses, gnawed and slashed to nearly unrecognizable degrees in a back alleyway could attest to this, if the sprites hadn't horribly defaced them so...given the so opportune meal.

The work concluded, Kaite gave himself a twirl in their restored attire. The fabric flowed with serviceable excellence. A delight for a tailor some so many centuries ago, to know their teachings would prove so effective to be replicated with such unnatural perfection.
Kaite agreed.
The Innkeep did so as well and even offered Kaite payment for doing such a degree of laundry; money which the construct immediately returned as payment for allowing them lodging and a place to recompose themselves. Harsh chemicals as they were, it had been a while since Kaite's chasse shined so.

In celebration of his fortune, during the morning bustle, Kaite obliged patrons with a serenade on the old piano stuffed in the corner of the room up on a small platform for acoustics to better resonate throughout the hall. While they may not have been songs the locals had heard before, they were well composed with deliberance and intent while the construct considered its next moves.
While serving was what made them feel whole, they ultimately needed answers to their thoughts and direction for a path. Standing idle for so long would earn them little favor...

-Whoops-

---

Alexander would've frowned at Arlo's state of undress if he still had facial expressions. "My name is not important. What is important is what you found yesterday. Gather your things and get ready to go. Things have only just begun to be set in motion, but if we want to advance with the wheels of progress instead of being crushed beneath them then we had best get moving with whatever plans we have. I will be outside." Alexander turned and left abruptly after that. He moved just as swiftly as before, eager to avoid the morning patrols of the castle during the changing of the guard.

If Alexander knew anything about what was going on, he did not let any hints be shown in his words. Truthfully, it was impossible for Alexander to discern the grand designs of the coming world in full, but what he could tell is that it would be better to snuff out the smaller evils of the world now before they were gathered beneath the banner of a greater evil. It might even be too late for that, but Alexander would fight battles where they could be found.

For the most part, the rest of the travel had been uneventful. Even if he still remained keen on trying to know what was that traveller exactly. He did not look like neither male nor female, and human, but not quite. Still it was night, and the creature did not look rapacious or otherwise violent, so he left him be. Wondrous things existed in the kingdoms, and he had more battles to fight.

He was an early riser. Even though he had slept in the stables alongside his downtrodden companion, he still rose sharp and stoic, practicing some combat maneuvers before washing himself and breaking his fast with a small serving of bread and jerky. He could have sword that several of the tavern wenches had been eyeing up his exercise routine, but that wasn't much of his concern. Knights needed not to be taken by lustful thoughts. He had more important things to do. So much time it had passed before he had presented himself to his King, and he needed to look that part. He put his best regalia, including a cleaned cloak, draped over his otherwise worn armor. Even if worn by many battles, a single piece of dragonscale was worth more than the most beautiful armor.

He announced himself as his true name, Sir Kay of Starling, and he knelt somberly before the monarch, gripping the blade before offering the pommel to the King. "In this time of need, I have answered your summonings, my King. My sword is yours to command."

"Rise, sir Kay. And Well met." The King said politely and somberly. "I shall acept it glady. These are dire times, and men of your talents are always sought." The monarch added. "I am aware...of your past inclinations, and therefore I would ask a thing of you."

The King paused for a second. "There's a wise man, Arlo, which I have entrusted to find a solution to the current situation. He is to succeed. That shall be your task, sir Kay. Make him succeed." The old King said ponderous and firm.

So he entrusted a wizard to do something. In a country of magic-haters. I would rather hunt unicorns, to be fair. He thought to himself as he rose, the helmet obscuring his disappointment.

"As you command." Kay answered.

"You may take your leave sir Kay. I believe that Arlo has not left his chambers yet. You may seek him, thus." The king said. "You may leave, sir Kay." He indicated. Sir Kay offered a last bow, and he exited, his cloak dragging as he did. It didn't take much time finding the place where the guests were usually. Once upon a time, he had been a guest of the castle himself, when he was still a lordling.

He saw the man standing in a door, after a certain mysterious figure had taken his leave.

"Are you a wizard?" Sir Kay asked, his eyes fixated on Arlo and his state of dressing.

@Jojo@Valor