@ZAVAZggg


Lunearo got up and followed, continuing his carving. "Worry not, ranger. I know when to keep my bony fingers clean. As long as my hood is up, they'll know nothing." He followed, carving runes into staff's end. He also carved the end into a rough knob, and looked at it. He nodded, put his dagger away and used the staff as if it was a walking stick. "I have a question Ranger. You may not want corpses shambling about and blood rituals, but does that include flying spirits?" He walked next to him. He tilted his head towards a flock of birds flying over head, and watched them land through various parts of the camp. Good, I have my eyes and ears... He nodded to one and it flew off ahead of them, towards the merchants. On closer examination, the birds seemed like Ravens.
"Remember the blood? Every Raven within a few miles is now possessed. You won't have to worry about the dead, but we could use their eyes for this. It was draining, but worth it long term." He chuckled under his mask.

@Dealdric

---

Einarr glanced at the birds briefly before returning his gaze to the merchant's tents that were slowly growing closer with every step the pair took. "Sounds useful." He said as he deftly avoided a soldier walking in his direction. "As for spirits, I'm fine with them. Just don't summon an army of them and we should be fine." Einarr said as he calmly readjusted some of his gear and sped up his pace a bit. It wasn't out of malice, mistrust, or even his anti-social nature, but because he wanted to find out what these merchant's wanted already, as the sooner he found out, the sooner he could go and deal with it.

That and he wanted to ask them more about the current political situation in the kingdoms. If he found out which way each was leaning in regards to the south, then he could help determine the most effective course of action for the Order to take in securing his the allegiance of his homeland.

@ZAVAZggg@Dealdric

---

Seems as though the captain didn't even know what they were doing here. Waste of time, then. Sounds like the Order had an agenda of some sort that they didn't want anyone else to know about. Aelsu of course, said nothing. She had nothing to say on the matter at the moment. Work was required of her, and that didn't require any discussion right now. She wasn't entirely certain what she could do here. All she knew how to do was fight, really. Healing and magic was not her strong suit, and she had little desire to get involved in whatever it was dwarves normally did while they hid underground.

A little monster killing though, was right up her alley, if that was indeed what it was. She had suspicions something else entirely was going on from the way the captain spoke, but she didn't think too much more of it. She glanced briefly over to Kuri - an old acquaintance. Also a thief. She'd probably like tagging along to the merchants. She'd probably find them to be an easy mark.

"Kuri." She picked up the money and the emblem, addressing Kuri briefly. "Stay out of trouble. I'm going to find these monsters." With nothing else to say, Aelsu placed the money and emblem in her waist pouch before heading off after the Necromancer and Einarr, quickly catching up with them.

"If its monsters," Aelsu grunted, once she was within earshot. "I've fought plenty in the Pits."

Didn't seem like she was asking permission.

@Rune_Alchemist

---

Einarr glanced over at Aelsu as she approached and grunted, but was otherwise silent. Another blade was always welcome, especially considering the fact that he had no idea what they'd be going up against. After a few more minutes of walking Einarr finally arrived at the merchants tent. Stopping a few feet away from it Einarr calmly watched as one of the merchant's, the one who seemed to be the leader of the group, approached and greeted him in their native tongue.

Einarr nodded and greeted him in return before going on to ask him about their monster problem. "Are you sure it's monsters and not a pack of wild animals or bandits trying to use scare tactics?" He asked as he pulled his fur lined leather hood over his head to help block out some of the cold. As for his questioning, Einarr wanted to be absolutely certain that what he was dealing with wasn't just another mundane threat that had spooked these merchant's into believing a monster or group of monster's were trying to kill them.

Doing so would not only help give him a good guess as to what they'd be going up against, but it would also give him a rough idea of what kind of gear or additional manpower he, Lunearo, and Aelsu should bring with them for this mission.

Stravi couldn’t help but let voice to a grunt laced with derisive humour. There’s an issue with the dwarves, and so the Order sends their dwarf to deal with it. There was a racist joke in there somewhere, though Stravi didn’t spend much time trying to figure it out, as he had a suspicion that he would end up being the punchline.

Still, at least Vaughn recognised his worth, setting him a task to deal with immediately. The former mercenary much preferred to have a solid goal to deal with, rather than be forced to stumble through the muddy streets and fields, looking for some odd-job to complete just to win the hearts and minds of the cabbage-boiling locals. The only issue was that the captain had been rather light with the details of just what was going on up at that mine. Information, some ancient and infinitely quotable intellect had once posited, was power, and Stravi hated doing anything without first having the proper information. It was like an army that tried to march without throwing up a proper screen of scouts: doomed to failure.

One that note, he would also need allies. What he wouldn’t have given to have just one of the Blackshields here with him. Sturdy Gentle, at his shoulder and guarding his back, or Cat Eye Jack, the meanest bastard with a knife that the Ashe Imperium had ever spat out. But his Band wasn’t here, they were a whole sea away, dealing with their own tasks. He’d have to make do with what he had here.

He cast an eye over his fellow recruits, summoning what he had learnt of them during the long sea voyage here. He would attempt to conscript a few of them before they left on their own agendas, then lobby the Captain for more information. A quick catalogue of his fellow’s skills and talents, and he made his decisions.

“Lady T’Aldanai. Goodwoman Chandler. Master Nazan. I request that you join me in my mission to the mines.” He made the petition with all the grace of a born nobleman, and all the tact of a man who was used to giving orders, rather than making appeals. He folded his arms behind his back and watched the three expectantly, eyes flicking from face to face.

The brevity of the meeting had surprised Georgia, her expectancy of perhaps more dramatics of their situation and what was required of them plummeting toward a rather stark and dull reality. Tasks and duties needed to be fulfilled, yet few seem to know what exactly that entails. The young Human waited as several members of her group quickly excused themselves from the tent. When it was less busy around the table, Georgia approached and pocketed the emblem and coin pouch with a quiet, "Thank you."

She had barely taken a few steps away from the table when someone had addressed her. The Dwarven man, Stravi, if she recalled correctly. They have had few chances to interact during their voyage and he was selected primarily for the mine problem. Surely related to more than just his race, she would think. Georgia eyed the man; he had the appearance of someone with a lot of experience, perhaps many stories to tell. As she considered his posture, her mind went to Henry.

This man, not much older than her, always looked after her family especially. As far as she had known, he never saw combat -- not one worth mentioning anyways -- and preferred staying within the walls of Vernthouth's castle. He always bragged of wanting to become some local warrior hero. When she was sent away from home, to be kept safe with the Order, Henry promised to stay by her side and keep her safe. Initially, Henry was opposed to Georgia's archery lessons but that argument was quickly snuffed out as it was made clear to be mandatory training. Finally Georgia is tasked to leave for Haev, Henry to stay for other reasons. Again he argued, ultimately she still ended up in this cold place.

Which brought Georgia back to the present. She jumped slightly, realizing she had spaced off and quickly braced herself against the cold she managed to ignore up to this point. Another note to add to the mental list: find a scarf, a cloak, and perhaps warmer underwear. The Order provided some basic clothes for the travel but she is clearly much more susceptible to the climate than she anticipated.

"Sir Stravi," she would do a polite bow, one that smells sweetly of a servant's lifetime. "I will be delighted to join you on this expedition. How can I be of service?"

Vélaneah was always careful on unfamiliar ground. Cautious about putting herself forward, of appearing too bold or drawing ire on unfamiliar ground. Some of that was undoubtedly her upbringing, seeing her family's rivals tearing her father down, seeing each and every crack in his armour. Some of that was pure self preservation in the barb-tongued court of the Imperium. Some of it, she theorised, was due to her elemental affinity. Let the pyromancers be bold and impulsive as the flames they wielded. It was water that would wear them down and douse their fires. Water endured. Besides, she didn't really want to go traipsing off into the countryside. Not that she wouldn't, she just felt that she might be more successful if she focused on affairs within Haev. Perhaps if she asked one of the Captain's guards, they would know about something requiring her particular brand of cool and relentless persuasion. Grey eyes considering the most attentive-looking of the humans as she made her way to the table in Einarr's wake and secured an insignia and coin of her own. Roughly 20 coin anyway. She took a step away, then stilled as Stravi spoke to her - and courteously at that.

She went to respond - but Georgia was there afore her, helping to confirm her in the decision she had already made. "Of course Sir Stravi, I would be delighted," she opined, looking up at the dwarf. It would mean journeying out of town, but in the company of two individuals she already knew enough to respect and one she was curious to learn more about over the compass of their expedition. "I trust you mean to depart today," she noted wryly. She could still feel the sway of the ocean beneath her legs, but the dwarf nobleman had never struck her as one to waste time from the first moment they had met one another. "I will make some of my own enquiries, but be sure to find me before you depart."

Making her way to the horse lines, she struck up a conversation with the grooms there that would have surprised any of her highborn friends from the Imperium. While her accent retained its refined lilt, she was gaily cheerful as she hailed the weary handlers with a wave. "Good morrow to you! My colleagues and I are taking a small jaunt up to the dwarfmines north of here and will need patient and steady mounts to cover the distance swiftly and leave us still able to walk." She smiled quickly and brightly. "I have some small experience with horses, let me assist you in saddling them for us, I know we must leave shortly."

Taking the opportunity while among them, Vél helped to pick the four mounts she judged most suited to each of the four riders on Stravi's expedition - the cream of the crop where possible - and also picked the stablehand's brains for any news or gossip they have heard about the current situation around the mines. When her bearded friend found her, she would ideally have the horses saddled and ready, with five days' supplies in their saddle bags.

Kuri stepped forward with a grin, tossing the pouch into the air once and then stuffing it into her pocket. “Aye-aye Captain,” she said playfully, “We’ll make sure to be on our best behaviour!”

Turning around, she quickly considered her options: dwarves, a sick prince, or merchants and monsters. Honestly, she wasn’t too interested in dwarven politics, and while Restoration magic seemed pretty cool, she’d rather check out what was happening with the traders, and maybe even pick up a couple knick-knacks along the way.

“Kuri. Stay out of trouble. I’m going to find these monsters.”

“Waitwaitwaitwait,” Kuri started, jogging after Aelsu, “I’m coming too!” Not wanting to be left behind, she hurriedly caught up to her armoured friend and joined the group. Cheerfully, she greeted Einarr; while they hadn’t talked much on the journey, he seemed nice enough during their brief introductions on the ship.

She turned to Lunearo as Einarr spoke to the merchants. “So, uh- dude,” she began, “What’s up with the whole mask thing? If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

@Adalea

Lunearo turned to the thief. His eyes were barely visible, and seemed to gleam with his power and twistedness. He quit his jolly charade, and showed his real demeanor. "Before I tell my tale, I will warn you not to ask such a question again. Not for my own sake, but rather because my life has been harsh and cold, like the company I keep, and has been known to disgust and unhinge others. A year prior, the village of which gave me the responsibility of keeping their dead came with ten new bodies for the earth to consume. They relayed to me what happened, and I dealt with the other duty as Grave-Keeper. A Noble had a claim to the land, which he intended to use for farming with tenants. This, of-course, did not sit well with the village occupants, so he displayed what would happen to them if they stayed. Hence the corpses, which was quite a mess to bury." One of the possessed Ravens landed on his shoulder and looked at the girl with unforgiving malice.
"Once night had fallen, I left my home with my mask, cloak, and dagger, as well as my grimoire in case a stronger spell was necessary. I found the Noble's encampment, which was filled with guards, workers, and wagons filled with resources. I was scouting the camp, devising my plan, when one of the guards got the drop on me and knocked me out. When next I woke, at least, to my memory the next time, though it is possible I woke before that, I was delirious,in pain, and weak. I heard shouting, and looked up to see the Noble and a man in armor, armor of the Sacred Flame, arguing over something. I was in shackles, and my face felt numb, while my arms burned and I sat in a pool of my own blood. The man gave the Noble gold, and that was all I saw before blacking out again." He held his chin as if trying to recall the full events. "The next time I woke, I was on a horse, no longer shackled, but the horse I rode was not under my control. My eyes were still adjusting when the soldier of the Order spoke. He apologized, saying he was tardy, but I knew not what he meant till I tried to feel my numb yet burning face with my scarred hand. I felt the mask. I attempted to remove it, but I could not find the latches it was supposed to be on. That's when he told me the Noble punished me for insolence by fusing the mask to my face. The mask is my face now child. The order attempted to remove it once before, but it was, unsurprisingly a failure."
He walked with the girl to his side for a bit before turning back to her. "And don't call me 'dude'. I am a Necromancer, not your roundabout human tower apprentice. I am Lunearo, the Grave-Keeper. I have no other names nor titles." The Raven squacked at her while he walked towards the Osiri. The bird continued to glare at her.

@Rune_Alchemist

Lunearo walked next to the arena champion, nodding his head in respect. "Any being who survives the arena and becomes such a monsterous and feared warrior automatically has my respect. But your rebellion failed, and for that I berate you for not planning better." His eyes showed no hint of emotion and his voice was dull and raspy with a metallic scrape. "I mean not to insult you, but from what I hear, there was a whole in your plan. If true, I give the advice to keep an eye on all aspects of a situation, not just how you see it. To be honest, the accounts of the revolt was brutal and swift. It makes me question how well your captors planned." He quickly walked back to his place behind all three of them, keeping an eye on their surroundings.

---

Okay. To be perfectly honest? After the first couple of bizarre displays, Sarathai had been rather expecting more spectacles along the same vein and almost looking forward to them. Unfortunately, that hope was dowsed quickly enough as the conversation turned toward much more mundane matters- whether or not the local populace would like them, how to get on their good side, who was doing what mission etc. Even when the guy with the metal mask stepped forward again it was just to talk about finding people to help without even so much as a puff of green smoke or a flash of spooky light. For that bit, Sarathai kept his silence. He was perfectly content to stick around this region and do some gruntwork to help the locals if it meant he wasn't going back aboard the accursed ship anytime soon. As he lost interest in the idle chatter, his eyes strayed to the map on the table as he reviewed his own knowledge of geography with what was before him.

Eventually the captain began to speak once again, which snapped Sarathai's eyes back to the group. As the captain outlined what he required of their group, Sarathai breathed a small sigh of relief. At least the tasks seemed to be significant to some degree, which alleviated some of his worry that he'd be stuck mucking stables for the next few years in order to get his life back on track. So, what were his options? Deal with some dwarves, deal with some merchants or help heal some king's son? His interest was piqued at the mention that one of the people here was a well-regarded restoration mage. He had been worried that the only source of information on the topic would be musty, outdated tomes in the sorry excuse for a library they had passed on the way to meet the captain. Perhaps he would end up asking to apprentice under her. Ultimately, he concluded that any of these missions were just as good as any of the others with two huge caveats: that he didn't need to board a ship to complete his mission and that his mission took place literally anywhere that Lunearo was not. That guy gave him the creeps and watching him wander outside and immediately begin carving a stick only reinforced the impression. Fucking necromancers.

So, that one gruff guy was Einarr, right? It seemed like the necromancer was going off with him and the crazy Orisiri. All told a couple of very solid reasons to stay the fuck away from that task. That took monster hunting for merchants off the table, which was just as well, since Sarathai really didn't want to jump right into the whole hack and slash business just yet. That left dwarves and sick children. It seemed the one the captain had picked to lead the thing with dwarves, Stravi, just so happened to be a dwarf. It figured that the captain would send the dwarf to deal with dwarf related problems- definitely not racist or anything. Stravi, for his part, sure was quick to pick out exactly who he was interested in joining his mission as well- most likely those he had befriended on the ship. Perhaps if Sarathai had spent less time sick during the voyage he would have made better impressions on his fellows.

At some point during the bustle of people grouping up and heading out for their respective missions, the restoration mage had grabbed her gold and slipped out- almost without Sarathai noticing. "Shit." He muttered to himself, hustling over to the captain's desk to grab his own emblem and money. That taken care of, he headed out in the direction Tarasynora had gone. It was a good thing for him she was so distinctive looking, or else he might have lost her in the crowd. As it was, he highly doubted she even realized someone else had decide to accompany her at her task. That is, until Sarathai pulled up behind her as she was in the process of confronting the castle guards.

At least he had managed to catch up with her before she had been admitted to the castle. If he had arrived any later then the best case scenario was that he would have been rudely turned away, though it was just as likely that he would be regarded as a trespasser and treated accordingly. As it was, when he approached the guards, their grips visibly tightened on weapons and one of them opened his mouth to address this scruffy newcomer who really could have used a bath, a shave and a change of clothes at some point between the ship and this mission. "Oh hey there, it's okay. I'm an apprentice restoration mage in the order with her." he said, cutting off the challenge that the guard had been about to issue as he gestured towards Tarasynora. Everything he said being technically true, he felt it unnecessary to add that he wasn't her apprentice. Minor detail- one that was easily remedied, given time. "Oh, and I uhh. I don't think I have any weapons on me?" As he spoke, he gave his pockets a quick pat-down to illustrate the point.

---

“As for what I want you to do, I’ll leave that up to the majority of you to determine.”

Nazan groaned. If the state of the Order’s operations and the effectiveness of its leadership weren’t dubious when he stepped off the boat, then they sure were now. Surely its leadership had time on their hands to prepare orders while the new arrivals had been at sea. Yet, it seemed the captain’s directions were simply to mill around. Did the sorry condition of the Order’s progress in Weirn exacerbate such lackluster leadership, or was this leadership the cause of its nonexistent productivity? This would never fly in Keirous.

The captain started dolling out tasks to a select few. At least that was something. Nazan made a mental note to tag along with one of them. He’d done enough sitting on his hands on the ship. With most of the details out of the way, the captain passed them knapsacks with a small stipend and insignias. Nazan grudgingly pinned his to a strap on his chestplate and slung the bag over his shoulder.

With the briefing behind them, Nazan turned to leave but caught mention of his name. He turned his attention to the dwarf - Stravi, was it?

“Master Nazan. I request that you join me in my mission to the mines.”

Nazan looked down at the dwarf, frowning. He seemed used to dispensing orders, judging from his tone and the way he carried himself. The request sounded more like a command than a plea. The idea of a dwarf barking orders didn’t thrill Nazan, but it was a reassuring change of pace from the apathy of Captain Vaughn. The orisiri nodded.

“Better than rotting here,” he rumbled.

@Adalea@ZAVAZggg@Dealdric@Rune_Alchemist


The merchants paused at the intrusion of the large man, their ‘leader’ taking the initative to interact with him. All attention was directed at the four who had simply walked into their camp, some whispering among themselves and others sneering at the sight of a Orisiri. It wasn’t long, however, before their attention shifted back to their food or dockets as many did their daily check of equipment. The leader of the merchants was a tall and lanky man, hardly fit for any sort of combat but certainly the bookish type who’d do well leading a caravan.

”I would not be able to say for sure whether they are beasts or man however all my men have been spooked by something. On our journey here from Vernthouth, we encountered the corpse of a stag and a few hours later one of our scouts found a warg with an antler from the stag inside of it.” The leader paused and sighed, looking at the group of men in the camps behind him. ”I’m not a superstitious man myself but the men believe it to be an omen, they follow the Old Gods after all. They think we’ll die if we go back through the Forest and think it better to camp here for the rest of the month. But we don’t have the time for that, the nobles who arranged this caravan want us back before the Moot, to sell our wares to all the men and women coming with Hagrir and the other Kings. I sent some men into the Forest yesterday but they haven’t-” Crows rose up from the fields and Forest as three men and four horse came barreling out of the forest, almost as if on cue from the Leader. Though he made no movement until he himself heard the pounding of hooves, the few guards towards the Forest rushed and shouting rose as men ran to the arrivals.

Cries for a medic and bandages arose as one of the men was dragged from his horse, another limping badly as he followed behind. The remaining two, though injured, walked to the Leader and shook their heads. ”We ran into wargs out there in the middle of the night. Whole pack of them. They tore fuckin’ Horim’s arm off before we could beat ‘em back. Hardly made it out,” The man stopped as he noticed the four behind their Leader, a grimace on his face. He spat on the ground at the four and sneered. ”I see. Ya’ bring in the fucks from up in the Sacred Flame bullshit cause ya gotta get back eh? Lord Yimmir riden’ your tail to get his payment? Lookin’ to get that nice plot o’ land for yer misses too? Fucking traitor.” The scout stormed off, heading towards the makeshift infirmary most likely, as the Leader sighed.

”My men don’t like the Order being here. They take it that I’d rather let them die out in the Forest and get home than get as many people as possible back. That is why I need someone to track down whatever is going on in those Forests. I’m willing to pay both you and the Order a heavy sum for your services, even give you a discount on our goods, if you can help us.” The words hung in the air between Einarr and the Leader, the camp’s momentary chaos dying down as work resumed.

---

---

@Lionhearted@0 Azzy 0


As the guards gave way to the two travellers their weapons were stripped and a guard placed ahead of them to guide them along. All around various men and women mulled, going about their daily duties and briefly glancing over at the strange woman who walked through their halls. Some would remember seeing her years ago, though her dress was entirely different now than before. Others simply knew not what to think of her appearance or even the man beside her. It wasn’t long, however, before the guard directed them inside a room and paused.

Around them were gathered eight men sitting at a crescent shaped table, they seemed to be in the midst of an argument and their attention placed fully upon a man at the crux of the table. ”Just because these outsiders have come here doesn’t mean we need to help them. Let them freeze for all I care, the Order doesn’t belong here,” A scraggly looking man shouted across the room, his palm smacking the wood of the table as he gestured towards another across from him. His opponent in the argument was a well dressed man no likely older than forty, though his hair was already as grey as the others.

”Leave them to die and then what Lord Turin? If they die in the Winter will they not send more men here? Will they not think that we chose to let them die? Perhaps they will wage war on us when they come back. Do you think we can survive a war when Vernthouth is in such chaos?” Lord Turin shook his head in response to the man in front of him and sighed, looking heavily at the man at the crux of the table and the noticing the travelers and guard.

”You are right Lord Erith. We can’t just act however. We know not their intentions as of yet, right King Gorim?” The Lord smiled over at the King, his distant stare broken at the mention of his name and his attention turned towards the travellers in his Court. The King rose from his chair and stepped around the table, coming face to face with Tarasynora even as guards flanked him. The Lords at the table flinched and tension seemed to rise as they watched their King.

”She’s a restoration mage, more importantly she’s likely the best restoration mage the Order can give us. If she can help my son then I could care less about your petty squabbling Erith, Turin. We’d have a debt to the Order.” Clamoring rose as the Lords shouted at the King, various words of dissent being thrown at him and even some claiming that they could just as well kill his son. It was until Lord Turin slammed his gavel on the table that silence rang out, the Lords taking their seats once more.

”But sire, this is the same woman who visited our lands many years ago. From what I’ve heard with my contacts in Ioria, she had her own Father killed. Do you surely think you should so easily trust this woman? She could as well have been sent to kill your son instead of help him. The Order so wants our aide that now they are reliant on causing chaos in our own lands!.” Lord Turin stood from his seat and glared at the woman, his eyes seemingly burning as he watched her.

”True, how do you propose we should trust you, Healer?”

---

---

@BlackSam3091@Aristo@Serendipity@Lucky

With the horses prepared and packed with supplies, the four prepare to head off towards the mines. Though the mines are only a days ride north, the travel is hard as the plains give way to rocky outcroppings and harsh hills eventually even that gives way to steep rises as the mountains grow ever closer. As the day wears on the party feels the ever present cold from the mountains as their ascent takes them closer to the foot of the monstrous heights. Camp was made not long before night fall.


Silence, the mountains are surrounding forests were eerily silent as the party slept. There were no sounds of owls or howls of wolves, no crunching of leaves from deer or stags. There was simply the silent howling of the wolves. It was like the world itself had frozen at foot of the mountains and nothing could break it. The air, however, was uneasy as a wave crept through the camp and down to the waiting party.

Georgia and Vélaneah could feel the presence of something creeping into their minds, its magical threads winding its way slowly through their minds and probing deep inside them. The creature remained shrouded and silent even as the uneasy rest of the two continued. It, however, did not find what it was looking for a crept to Nazan and Stravi where it was met with resistance. Nazan’s martial mind acted as a steel wall against the threads, the creature finding no purchase in his mind. Stravi’s mind was similar, however, the creature was more prepared this time and struck through the barrier. It wove its way through the mind of the dwarf and found what it had been looking for, creeping out as silently as it had come.


In the middle of the night, the frozen world seemed to burst anew from its bubble. Owls returning and wolves howling. No trace was found of the creature as the four awoke from their sleep, no magical residue left to trace and no sign of movement on the ground. The unease remained, however, in the mind of the three it had probed. An unease of a shadowy being in its depths, looking for something.

”My men don’t like the Order being here. They take it that I’d rather let them die out in the Forest and get home than get as many people as possible back. That is why I need someone to track down whatever is going on in those Forests. I’m willing to pay both you and the Order a heavy sum for your services, even give you a discount on our goods, if you can help us.” The words hung in the air between Einarr and the Leader, the camp’s momentary chaos dying down as work resumed.

@Dealdric
@Rune_Alchemist
@Adalea

"I see...." He said, ignoring the returning scouts harsh words, as he silently went over the situation once more in his head, only this time taking into account the new information he'd been given. Wargs being active this time of year was not unusual, but to find one killed a few feet away from a stag it had just taken down was practically unheard of. Einarr had gone up against these beasts out on missions before and he knew that they didn't just leave a kill out in the open like the one the merchant had described, seemed to have done. He knew wargs jealously guarded their kills, especially during the colder months when food was scarce, and only retreated or ran away when something more intimidating and deadly than them came along.

But the merchant had said that they found a piece of the stags antler inside the wargs corpse, so it could have just been an accident or the outcome of a fight between the two animals. Perhaps the stag put up more of a fight than the warg had anticipated and managed to fatally wound it or perhaps the antler got caught in its jaws and then broke off, becoming lodged inside the wargs body that way. Einarr's eyes narrowed slightly as he stopped his line of mental questioning from becoming a full blown tangent. He'd never find out what was actually causing these merchants problems or be able to resolve it if he just sat on his ass all day and "thought" about it. He needed to take action.

"Alright, me and my companions..." He said, finally breaking the almost palpable silence that had settled between him and the merchant leader as he gestured to Aelsu, Lunearo, and Kuri. "...will take care of it. But before we do, I'd like to speak to the scouts that just returned to camp. Given the fact that they were doing reconnaissance near the area in which you first encountered these strange occurrences, they might be able to give us some more detailed information or at the very least a vague idea of what we're up against." While Einarr was keenly aware of the deep seeded hatred the men these merchant's hired had for the Order and those who worked for it, he knew that they were, for the moment anyway, the only ones who could tell him more about what dangers might lurking in the depths of that forest.

@ZAVAZggg@Dealdric@Adalea

---

Aelsu didn't reply to Kuri when she said she was coming along. The Orisiri had no reason to stop her, and if anything she welcomed the presence of a familiar face. Kuri was skilled in things aside from thievery, and Aelsu would be glad to have someone she could trust somewhat to have her back. For the most part, she said nothing as Lunearo went on a ling tirade about his mask. He droned on, and Aelsu couldn't help but to audibly yawn when he was done and finally addressed her, about her so called 'plan' as they say.

"...you talk to much, mage." She grunted, not even looking at Lunearo as she walked. "You assume my goal was revolution, just as those barbarians did, but they were going to give me what I sought until the order intervened." He'd make of that what he would, but it was the truth. Honestly she had no desire to start a revolution. She just wanted her freedom in whatever way that manifested. Could she have tried harder? Was he right that she could have planned better? Very likely, but he was forgetting one thing. In the Pits, one never learns how to become a master tactician or planner. You learn to fight. Survive. Kill before you're killed. "All I can do is kill, and we were merely a handful of people who wanted the same thing."

And with that, Aelsu fell silent, having nothing more to say on the matter. They had arrived at their destination anyways. The leader of the merchants met them, and Aelsu could hear their whispers and sneering. Nothing she hadn't heard before. She had long since learned to ignore it. More importantly was what the leader was saying about the beasts on the road. Wargs? She had fought plenty in the pits. Would be a nice warmup and good way to brush off the rustiness in her spear and muscles after being captive for awhile.

Still, she said nothing for there was nothing for her to add. Except maybe that he needed better scouts if they were done in by simple beasts.

@Rune_Alchemist@ZAVAZggg@Mag Lev@Adalea

Lunearo thought on what the gladiator said. Interesting, she's more plain than I thought. But she thinks that killing requires no tactics. Killing is tactics. Whether you be the strongest knight, to the weakest thief... When the scouts gave him a disdaining look, he made a mental note to have one of the Ravens shit on them just for sounding so arrogant. Whoever had the gall to do so to a mage had an over-inflated ego and sense of self-importance beyond any.
Lunearo looked at the boy, knowing he intended to converse with the scouts. It was the smartest thing to do, and he didn't think the Ranger lacking in brains. "If you wish to talk to them, and they don't, can I show them the face of a freak of the order of Sacred flame? It would entertain me to see what they think." He gave a evil chuckle, before checking the gauntlet covering his left hand. That one he didn't want to cut. Now if people knew what was under there, then they'd be scared.

@Dealdric
@Rune_Alchemist
@Adalea
@Mag Lev

---

"I'd prefer it if you didn't." Einarr said, staring at the necromancer from out the corner of his eye. "Not only because your true visage would probably make them too terrified to talk, but also because word of your actions would spread throughout camp like wild fire. And trust me, that's the last thing we need." Einarr grumbled as he turned around fully and strode past the old Starfallen and off towards the opposite side of the camp.

While Einarr kept an eye out for surrounding dangers or obstacles in his path as he went along, he mainly kept his gaze focused on the ground beneath his feet. Having seen the type of boot the scout had been wearing a few minutes earlier, it was an easy task for the old ranger to track his boot prints in the mud and snow all the way to the tent.

After a few more minutes of walking Einarr found himself standing outside of the medical tent, the sounds of pained moaning coming from within. Taking one last look at the area he'd just come from and his companions who were starting to make their way towards him, Einarr parted the tent flaps and stepped inside.

@Dealdric
@Rune_Alchemist
@ZAVAZggg
@Mag Lev

---

Kuri listened with diminishing curiosity as Lunearo recounted his story. Honestly, he was more intimidating before he started talking. He was a lot more... open than she had expected him to be, seemingly untroubled even as he went into detail about what she would assume to have been a pretty traumatic experience. Well, if he was fine with his mask-face, then all the better for him.

"And don't call me 'dude'. I am a Necromancer, not your roundabout human tower apprentice. I am Lunearo, the Grave-Keeper. I have no other names nor titles."

The girl barely managed to conceal an eye roll. She had met plenty of old mages like him back at The Imperium--those who thought that the more restricted a type of magic was, the more powerful its users were. Her interest in him satisfied, she gave a joking and somewhat sarcastic salute, then turned her attention to the merchants.

Wargs? Kuri was more than a little disappointed. She had come along expecting something more exciting than just forest beasts. True, the whole scene with the stag and the warg was a bit weird, but it wasn't that big of a deal. This mission was turning out to be a bit of a bore, in her opinion. The only amusement she gained was from the little outburst shown by one of the returning men--inner conflict was always fun to watch. Taking Einarr's departure as a sort of dismissal, she gave a small wave to Aelsu. "I'm gonna go check out what they have."

She strode a couple steps into the camp, then stopped. After rummaging around in her pocket for a second, she pulled out the ring she had stolen--uh, borrowed--from the Captain's tent, and slipped it onto her finger. Turning her hand, Kuri took a moment to admire the way the sunlight bounced off the white gem, then stuffed both her hands in her pockets and continued walking. Captain Vaughn wouldn't find out if she just wore it for a while.

Turning a corner, Kuri saw the loud scout from earlier come out of what seemed to be the medical tent, muttering to himself. With nothing better to do, she decided to follow him; he seemed like the type to be involved with exciting things. Quietly, she walked behind him, making sure to stick to the shadows--she definitely did not fit in with the look these merchants had, and didn't want to stick out too much just in case. The scout stopped in front of a smaller tent, looking around the area before ducking inside.

Hmm. Was there something going on? Kuri moved to crouch behind a stack of boxes next to the small shelter, curiously listening in. Whatever it was, it would probably be useful to get some more information about what was going on with the other merchants.

Mentions: @BlackSam3091@Aristo@Serendipity

★Today's Theme★

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Georgia adored them. The mountains. She had seen so few, far in the distance, the Orimmir Mountains. There was a pigeon coop within Vernthouth that had, objectively, the best view of the naturally jagged skyline. There was something about the varying shades of blues against the endless sky that left her in awe. Long had she aspired to hike along its trails left behind by travelers, hunters, and outcasts alike.



The journey thus far has been exciting for the girl, even with their gradual ascent almost perfectly lateral with the landscape. Georgia was thankful for the riding lessons from the Order, albeit brief, otherwise this trip would have been much more of an embarrassment than it was already. Getting onto her horse was a troubling task, requiring the aid of Vélaneah (the thought of asking for Stravi or Nazan's help with such a thing sent shivers down her spine). It wasn't until after she had finally settled into the saddle that she realized her pack was not yet attached to the large, painted horse. His name is Florence. A few moments more of hurried humiliation and the group was ready to leave.



As much energy had been placed into the journey, Georgia was tired. Everyone agreed to rest before the final stretch to their destination. She squirms in her saddle, legs uncomfortably shifting against the broad sides of her steed. Mustering what strength she had, she slowly kicked off the stirrups and her eyes fell to the ground far below her in deep consideration. A sigh, a quiet whimper, and she lifted herself from the saddle and stumbled ungracefully to the ground in some unfortunate form of a pirouette. She couldn't bear to see if anyone was watching, so she dusted herself off and prepared for the evening.

With some aid, she set up her tent and bedroll within. As this did take her a little longer than the others, wood was already sufficiently gathered for the night's fire by the time she was done. She turned in earlier than the others, hoping for a full night's restful sleep.



The young Human stirred in her bedroll, feet pushing into the bag's leather corners. The top of her head could barely be visible as she tightened it as much as she could muster to keep in her body heat. Georgia fluttered her eyes open, staring at the inner fur linings and wondering. Wondering why she felt so strange, violated even. Her thoughts lingered on old tales her mama used to tell her of spirits from the forests and mountains that would find wanderers in their domain and lead them to some mysterious end. She shook her head and took a big breath, one meant to allow new thoughts to enter.

Georgia weighed her options. Stay in this roll for the rest of my life, or brave the cold? With a whine that could almost be heard from outside her roll, she thrust her hands into the opening and audibly gasped at the chilly mountain air as it enveloped her. Like a butterfly from its chrysalis, she squirmed and squeezed out. Her coat, used like an extra blanket over the bedroll, is snatched up immediately and she covered herself with arms on the inside. The inside of her tent was bare, though her eyes drift around hazily as if something might be able to wake her up.

The girl performed her daily morning stretches, digits reaching to the walls of the tent and rubbing her fingers against the coarse fabric. She figured her hair was a mess, but that will have to come later. For the time, she simply slipped back into her clothes as best as she could manage without leaving the coat.

"Don't think anyone will be against breakfast, hmm?" Georgia said to herself, inching towards the tent's entrance. She reached out with her hand, stopping short of the flap's edge. Something came in last night. Right? This invading thought unnerved her. Her hand retreated to her coat as she twisted around, searching for any signs of an intruder. Nothing. As she twisted around the other direction, she shook her head in light disbelief.

Finally the tent was opened and she crawled out like any champion of the Order would. She inhaled deeply and splayed her arms to her sides, taking in the northern air. Satisfied with this, as noted by her hands to her hips, a sagely nod, and a giddy smile, she figured she should answer nature's call and briskly walked out of the camp's immediate sight. Upon returning, she reached into the tent and dragged her pack out. She dug around. Rations. Nothing I can cook with. No seasoning either, of course.

Georgia dropped the bag near her sitting spot by the campfire that was drawn last night. There was still enough fuel to last another hour or so, were she to ignite it. This would mean little of her magical reserves as a spark is very cost-effective. And that's what she fully intended to do. She faced the wood pile and settled on her knees, extending one hand with an offering palm.

"Ignium."

Embers appeared in her palm, flickering even in the early morning sun's own rays. Fingers wrapped around the embers before she turned her hand and spread them into the center of the stack. Within moments, flames grew as tall as she could stand. Georgia shifts from her knees into a more comfortable position and retrieves some packaged bread. There she waited for the others to wake.