Interaction with @Typical @HokumPocus

---

Paranoia. Could be worse. Chres could handle a paranoid Crazed for now.... So long as the man didn't Snap.

That was about when Octavio's familiar spoke out. "I apologize for not having formally introduced myself to this party. I am Lynx, travelling partner to Octavio."

Chres turned his attention to the familiar, caught off guard. This was the first time the familiar addressed the party.

"Despite my feline appearance, I am an individual of distinguished origin and would prefer to be treated as an equal on this journey." It said.

Chres was taken aback. A familiar seeing itself as an equal to the rest of them? Familiars were property first and foremost. The intelligent ones were designed to understand this difference between their selves and a normal person. The less intelligent familiars, like Sil's, were simply made to not be smart enough to understand. It was a guard put in place for the owner's own safety... as well as everyone else's.

Octavio's familiar was clearly different. That unnerved Chres. How many others were out there like Lynx? How many of them were dangerous?

Lynx turned to Sil and muttered. "And no Sil, you may not play with my tail,”

"Hmmmmmm..." He heard Sil hummed aloud.

Sil... Chres thought hesitantly to his familiar.

Sil looked from Lynx to Chres, to Ferris and then Octavio. She finally settled her gaze back on Lynx. Clasping her hands behind her back, she leaned forward and smiled.

"Okay." She said happily.

Okay?! Chres thought, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"No more pulling on Mr. Lynx's tail." She said fluttering off to go perch herself on Chres's shoulder.

Chres looked to his familiar, impressed. "Well, well." Chres said. "I'm proud of you, Sil."

"He wants to be treated equally," She said with a shrug. "and I don't have a tail for him to tug on."

Sil leaned back, relaxing on Chres's shoulder. Suddenly she tilted her head to the side as if remembering something. She transformed into her ferret form. "Wait a second..." She said, looking to her tail.

"My appolgies Lynx!" Chres said suddenly, and loudly. "It was wrong of us to treat you as anything less then a person. Isn't that right, Sil?" Chres growled out the last sentence.

"Hm?" Sil said, distracted from her prior line of thinking. She looked to Chres, transforming back into her fairy form.

"Lynx wishes to be treated equally." Chres said firmly. "Treat him like you would me."

"Unseemly." Spat a voice from above. "A proper Familiar should know it's place!"

Chres looked up. Perched on the roof above them, was a vulture that gave off a dull silver glow. A familiar, no doubt. The bird stared down at the group as if dissecting them. No... judging them.

The bird fluttered down, landing onto a nearby post. It gave Lynx a look of disgust. "You're a disgrace. Nothing more than a pampered cat." The Familiar snapped. "You are no equal."

Suddenly Sil spoke up. "He's not a disgrace!" She protested. "He's a lynx! A lynx of... of dis... disting..."

"Distinguished?" Chres suggested.

"Yeah! That's it!" Sil said. "A lynx of distinguished origin! -Whatever that means- And what are you supposed to be? An ugly chicken?" Sil looked over to Lynx. Winking and giving him a thumbs up.

"Call me what you'd like." The vulture said with a sniff. "I care not."

Chres narrowed his eyes. His hand absently fingered his dagger. He didn't like the attitude of this familiar. "Who are you?" He said coldly.

"Not that it matters," The bird drawled. "but you may call me Talon." He clenched his own talons, as if to emphasize the name.

"Humorous, I know. But it's a far more original name than the one belonging to that beast over there." Talon said condescendingly. It nodded off in Lynx's direction.

---

^{@Pezz570@HokumPocus}
As Ferris had predicted, his teammates took the news of his paranoia without much of a problem. While he was grateful for Octavio’s comment, giving the man a nod after he spoke, Ferris had expected a reaction like Chres’: wordless acceptance, since there was nothing good about his magic-induced flaw. Though Ferris wasn’t ashamed of it because he was, as he’d said, largely able to control it, he also wasn’t proud of it. There were instances in the past he’d regretted, of course, and sometimes the paranoia yielded thoughts he was unable to shake. Being a lone wolf suited him well in these cases since relationships weren’t built on broken foundations.

Lynx introducing himself wasn’t surprising for Ferris because the hunter hadn’t given a thought as to whether the familiar could speak. From experience, he knew that most could, and the few that couldn’t were often still able to communicate with their holder mentally. In this case, however, Ferris was clued into the fact that this should be surprising by the Lynx’s word choice and by how Chres responded, turning to the familiar with a mixture of surprise and unease. His expression made Ferris do a double-take at the Lynx as well since Ferris had been prepared to brush the situation off entirely. Throughout his life, he’d met many a strange or secretive familiar. Some held their tongue to spy and blend in with the natural fauna while others pretended only to have one form to work subterfuge in a similar way. All this only fueled Ferris’ general dislike for familiars since it was due to their existence that he had to wield caution regularly, and he wouldn’t be surprised if either familiar he’d met was hiding a secret form or two.

At this point, Ferris was aware that his thoughts had drifted into the usual territory of second-guessing his teammates, and he decided he’d stop it there. It was a thin line between being watchful and distrustful, and the second required proof that Ferris didn’t have. Instead, Ferris chose to turn his attention to Octavio, watching the man whose familiar was speaking. Personally, Ferris wasn’t too keen on treating Lynx as an equal since familiars were always an extension of their holders, yet here was a familiar asking such of him. Perhaps he’d best play along, at least for now, as he didn’t want to stir up trouble over a minor issue.

The silence, though, was broken by Lynx asserting his opinion on the matter of his tail, and Ferris watched blandly as Sil went back and forth with Chres in what was assumedly a half mental, half vocal conversation before Chres started voicing his thoughts. Thankfully, Sil seemed rather easy to read, at least when she wasn’t trying. His eyes wandered off to their surroundings, though his attention was drawn up with his teammates when a voice spoke down to them. Drawing a hand up to his mask to loosen it, he breathed in, trying to pick out the scent that hadn’t been there before. There was the usual stench of the city underbellies as well as the placeable scents of his companions and their familiars, but otherwise the vulture familiar’s metallic scent failed to stand out, be that due to the direction of the wind or the vulture’s position. Considering that the familiar had chosen to out itself, Ferris doubted it was a threat, and that the vulture chose to take up a dialogue with Sil further convinced him of this.

“Whose familiar are you, Talon? And why have you sought us out?” he asked, hoping to redirect the conversation in a more useful direction. A glance at the door behind which the innkeeper disappeared told Ferris that the scared man had yet to return, and Ferris wondered whether things were amiss.

Interaction with @Typical @HokumPocus

---

Talon flicked his wings sharply. His posture stiffened; his feathers ruffling ever so slightly. Talon spoke in a long drawn out voice. “It is not my place to answer that question.” He said with a hint of annoyance. “My bond is sacred. My allegiance? … Not to you.”

Talon looked to Farris, eyeing the man distrustfully. His eyes narrowed, widened, and then narrowed yet again. “It seems my master has invited you inside.” He said with a click of his tongue. “In this town, words are best spoken under a shroud of light.” A side door opened to the building behind Talon. Inside came a familiar green glow.

Chres raised his head at bird’s choice of words. He looked to the open door and the crystal jade glow emitted from within. Whoever Talon’s master was, it was clear that person already had a working knowledge on how to shield his or her self from the cult.

Chres hesitated. He turned his gaze to the building from which the innkeeper had yet to return.

“My master does not grant invitations lightly. I suggest you accept the offer." Talon warned. "For your own sake... and for the sake of your comrade.”

An unease befell Chres. The atmosphere surrounding them had gone unnaturally silent. The entire street appeared to be watching them. Waiting to see what the group would do.

---

A familiar face appeared at the opening to the top of the tower. It was her! The white haired woman! Tayla's lips curled into a smile. She watched as the coins flew towards the woman's face.

To Tayla's dismay, the woman jumped to the ground and barely avoided the attack. Tayla bared her teeth. She pushed the cotton tufts off to the side with her tongue.

"GET HER!" She raged. "SMASH HER FACE IN!"

The first of her men made it to the top, his club raised above his head. He ran at the woman. Ready to slam his weapon down on the woman's back.

---

Some of the coins that Tayla had launched had made their way towards Týfurkh and impacted on his shoulder plate and armor, both of which he had luckily strapped on again just moments before. There was a saying that money was the root of evil, but it being that dangerous was something that could only mean that the cultists were back.

"How the hell..."

He didn't get any further with his exclamation as a potential disaster unfolded right in front of his eyes. Týfurkh not really had time to think about things, but decided spontaneously to not even try to aim and fire a bolt at the charging man. Instead he did the same thing and tried to intercept him at speed in order to slam the metal front end of his crossbow into a place where it was bound to hurt or to simply ram the attacker off the platform.

---

The two men's height was so vastly different, the charging giant ended up smashing the man in the chest. The man was sent flying backwards to the ground. The impact causing him to drop his club.

Tayla cursed. The giant would be difficult to deal with. She figured that if she could get close enough to touch him, then she could use her Hydraision magic to make his armor heavier. But first, they would need to get off these stairs.

Grabbing more coins, Tayla shifted the cotton in her mouth until she tasted sour. The coins launched up the stairs

---

It was just a single glance, but upon seeing that face and hearing the enraged shouts, Karina almost instantly knew who was responsible for the coin shower. It was the cultist woman she had beaten before. Apparently she wasn't very happy she got so humiliated...

Her plan, coupled with the fact that Karina was caught off guard almost resulted in Karina's death but thankfully, she wasn't alone. The second the man began running towards her with his club raised, he was brutally smashed on the wall by Týfurkh's charge, immediately making him drop the club.

With a thankful nod towards Týfurkh, Karina quickly got up and prepared herself to fight. Tayla was still on the stairs, behind the group she brought with her and she was certain that she wouldn't stay still, patiently waiting for her turn.

"Be careful with the coins!" Karina shouted to Týfurkh as a cold aura began forming around her as she formed two sharp ice spikes. Just as she finished doing that though, just as she had just said, more coins flew up the stairs, but this time Karina was prepared and had something planned to retaliate.

"Let's see if you learned anything..." Karina said to herself with a smirk as she shot the ice spikes towards Tayla. While the spikes would go to the general direction where Tayla was, upon getting close to her and the rest of the people she was with, they would explode, sending many ice shards flying everywhere to cut those nearby.

If it worked as Karina was planning it would buy her and Týfurkh a little bit of time to think of what to do...

---

The two icicles shot towards Tayla. She grit her teeth.

Not this time Tayla thought. Those icicles were dangerous. The woman did all sorts of sneaky tricks with them. Best to avoid them. Tayla slid her left hand along the stone wall and swapped around the cotton in her mouth. Savory.

A single stone in the wall extended. It wrapped around Tayla's wrist, stretching as she ran up the stairs. This allowed her to maintain contact with the stone. The warped stone then shot outwards from her wrist, stretching sideways to form a protective roof over the people on the stairs. Though this would protect them from the icicles, Tayla knew it wasn't enough. The person at the front would still be vulnerable.

Tayla warped the stone further, stretching it beyond the opening to the floor above. The stone curved downwards, making a protective alcove. It's opening facing away from the giant and the white haired woman.

Still not enough. Without a distraction, her team would remain on the defensive. The stone warped further. Several spikes shot out from the back side of the alcove, towards the woman and the man. She couldn't see pass the opening above, so she fanned the spikes out blindly. Unsure if they would actually hit anything.

"Damn it, Tayla!" She heard a shout from above. "I'm on your side!" The clansman with the club. Still alive, apparently.

Tayla licked her drying lips. She was pushing herself. Dangerous, she knew. And yet, it was necessary. She would do what it took to beat this women.

Tayla took another sip of water from her skin. Two more people made it to the top. One of them was a female deterrent user under Smit's tutelage.

"Ready the deterrents!" Tayla shouted. The woman pulled out her throwing knives.

---

Karina couldn't help but to let out a smirk when she saw Tayla's reaction. She had indeed learned from their last encounter. Karina wasn't wrong when she got interested by that girl in the first time they met. It was truly a shame she was on the wrong side though.

Tayla's next move was smart though, protecting the ones who came with her from Karina's ranged attacks. They were in a pretty disadvantageous position and Tayla knew that as it became clear on how she used the alcove she formed to send spikes towards them. Even if it was a blind attack, it still served to further push Karina and Týfurkh back, making them step back and give Tayla's allies enough space and buying them enough time for them to get up and corner them.

Despite Týfurkh and Karina's position, Karina knew very well that Tayla was pushing herself much more than Karina or Týfurkh were. Other than that, Tayla was enraged just by seeing Karina. Judging by how she was acting and screaming, Karina doubt she would be able to keep her cool if she provoked her a bit more. Luckily, she would make a mistake and give them an opportunity to either escape or turn the battle in their favor.

Using her magic once more, Karina readied the same ice blades she had used against Tayla on their last battle. More of them would soon get up, they couldn't let Tayla and her allies to overwhelm them at any costs.

"Týfurkh, don't let them overwhelm us, try to eliminate them quickly, otherwise we wont stand a chance!" Karina said, as she got ready to impale whoever was the one who tried to get up next with two of her ice blades.

"Pathetic to the very end. Couldn't beat me in a duel so you resort to an ambush..." Karina shouted, with a cruel smile as she tried to provoke her.

Just as the next two people arrived on the top, Karina sent two ice blades to impale one of them as she got ready to fight. They needed to take them down quickly, before more were able to get up...

---

Mr. Club had made the mistake of betraying the fact that he was still alive, something he wouldn't survive. Having noticed it, Týfurkh once more slammed the front end of his crossbow against him, this time aiming at his throat. It was apparent that something very important for breathing had given way as a result, leaving the attacker regurgigating blood and on his way of dying if left untreated.

Týfurkh stepped back, trying to get some distance between him, the edge of the platform and the entrace where Tayla's weird magic was about to make its appearance. That weirdly warped piece of stone was an obstacle very hard to go around for both any individual and any projective, however it seemed that their men didn't have to face this problem.

Faced with a rather one-sided situation, Týfurkh sticked to Karina's advice of trying to kill quickly. However while there were Tayla's men standing on the other side of her obstance maybe she'd refrain from using it as a source of shrapnels again. The last volley of them had almost hit Týfurkh in his face and, in fact, a small amount of blood had started to pour from a place where his armor wasn't metal. The next piece of stone flying at him might not be so 'benevolent'.

One bolt was ready in his crossbow and Týfurkh pulled the trigger at a very close distance. He didn't care much about where it hit as long as it did hit. At this range there was so much kinetic energy involved that the bold possibly would just rip through the flesh and leave a large cavity behind. Still he couldn't be sure if that was enough, so Týfurkh also gave the attacker a kick in his belly region that was intended to make him stumble and come to a fall rather close to dead Mr. Club.

The obvious disadvantage of this action was that now the crossbow needed to be reloaded and this would require at least a bunch of seconds. However hopefully this barricade was as intransparent as it seemed to be from this side so hopefully none of the attackers on the other side would know this. And they had moved themselves into a cramped space Týfurkh intended to utilize with the next bolt. With a certain plan firmly in his mind, the giant started the reloading procedure as quickly as he could.

---

Tayla got to the top of the steps in time for the woman’s taunts to reach her ears. Her ears turned red as the hatred seeped through her. To the side, she noticed some of her comrades looking to one another. Perhaps second guessing the reason why they up here. Tayla’s face redden further. She reached for one of the blades at her side.

Without warning, one of her men stepped out from the warped stone’s protective cover. His actions earning him a crossbow bolt in the chest. He fell to the ground bleeding out. Another got his shoulder impaled by a blade of ice. Their dying forms. tampered Tayla’s rage and give her a moment of clarity. Reluctantly, Tayla relinquished her grip on her blade.

They were focusing on the ones stepping out of cover. That probably meant that her comrade, with the club, was no longer a threat. All of the enemy’s focus would remain on the rest of her team hiding behind Tayla’s cover. A cover she could not hold forever. To make matters worse, both of her opponents could use projectiles. Despite their numbers being on her side, range had her team at a severe disadvantage.

Tayla looked around, wondering what she could do to turn things in their favor. She saw nothing. Nothing, save the dangling rope hanging from the giant bell above them. Her eyes widened. A plan starting to form in her head. A desperate plan, but a plan nonetheless.

A strange calm filled Tayla as a familiar itch crawled up her neck. “Go back downstairs and help the others.” Tayla told her team coolly.

The others hesitated, looking to her as if she were crazy. Tayla sighed. She grabbed a handful of coins while eyeing them threateningly. “Now.” She said firmly.

Grudgingly, they turned to leave. “You.” She said to the magic deterrent user. “I’ll be needing those knives…”

Moments later, the remainder of her team had begun their trek back down the stairwell. Tayla grabbed her skin of water and took a long sip. She released her hold on the stone wall and let it revert back to its original shape.

Lynx?!

---

“I haven´t introduced myself up until this point, so your perception of me as a mindless subservient familiar was natural,” stated Lynx, eyes focused on Sil. It was hard to believe that that idiot had learned something, and harder still that it was related to respecting boundaries. The arrival of a vulture had interrupted his thoughts.

Lynx craned his neck upwards to glance at the haggard bird with an expressionless face. Octavio, who had now learned how to interpret the familiar´s body language, braced himself.

Lynx blinked, partly in disbelief. “An interesting coincidence that you´ve been ordered to come here, as I was just speaking of mindless, subservient familiars. I say ordered because you were forced to against your will, pest.”

Hearing Lynx´s caustic words reminded Octavio of the first few weeks of them working alongside one another. He made a move to try and stop the conversation before Lynx spat out anything too vile at who was probably going to be a helpful source of information, but the cat shot a glare at him, as if daring him to try and see what would happen.

With a soft flick of his tail, he continued. “There is power in a name. I am Lynx because I do not allow any man power over me. Can you say the same?” He asked the question in a mocking tone.

It´s not exactly a good idea to insult the messenger, you know.

I don´t care.

Octavio had to resist letting out a sigh in front of everyone. Well, if things took a dark turn, they could always just claim that one of the many lunatics shambling around town had attacked the familiar. Could threatening it work? Octavio didn´t know who his owner was, so that wasn´t an option yet.

“I believe it´s in everyone´s best interest if we all behaved like gentlemen for the time being.” He stuck his hands out in a display of wanting to halt whatever it was that was about to happen if that cat got too angry.

Lynx didn´t respond. Instead, he tilted his head towards the door and then to him as if to say, “you go first”.

Interaction with @Typical @HokumPocus

---

As Lynx spoke, Talon began to slowly crouch forward, almost predatorily. His eyes narrowed into what could only be amusement. The feathers on his body ruffled and smoothed excitedly as he spanned out his wings and gave them two quick flaps. The familiar seemed eager, perhaps even pleasured by Lynx’s own indignation.

Reluctantly, he slowly turned his hungry gaze away from Lynx. His attention directed towards Octavio. His posture straightened and calmed. His wings folding back into their resting position.

“A master wise beyond his years.” Talon remarked in his drawn-out voice. “And yet, he still hesitates… Perhaps not so wise after all.”

Chres looked to his companions and then to the door. He took step forward.

“Leave your weapons with the guards.” Talon drawled without paying the man a second glance.

Chres eyed the bird as he walked past. He began undoing his dagger as well as the short sword and hatchet, which he had scavenged from the cult members the previous day. He hand them to one of the guards at the door.

“The knives too.” Talon said behind him.

Chres gave the bird a sidelong glance. He reached into his boots and pulled out the knives hidden within. The guard took the knives. His companion then patted Chres down. Finding nothing else concerning, he let Chres inside.

The side entrance gave way to a living space containing two other armed men. Crystal Jade candles scattered the room. Their positioning appeared strategic, making the most out their light distribution. The windows to the room remained covered. Likely to avoid prying eyes as well as to block out any daylight that might interfere with the Crystal Jade’s ability to glow.

The four men lifted a rug and opened a concealed trap door. The door revealed a set of stairs, lined with more crystal jade candles. The stairway led down into the earth below. The men motioned Chres to proceed. Nodding he made his way to the stairs.

The steps looked ancient. Their stone surface weathered and uneven. The kind of deterioration that takes years to occur. Whoever originally made this passage was certainly not the people using it today.

Chres carefully made his way down the first few steps, all the while taking in the passage’s musky, stale smell. An unnatural awareness washed over him. A strange feeling best described as an almost increased awareness of everything he was experiencing. An awareness of common sensations that he would have normally ignored. The feeling lasted for a second before vanishing as abruptly as it occurred.

Chres stopped his descent. An itch crawled up the back of his neck, as if urging Chres to turn back. A strong itch. Stronger than usual. Chres took a deep breath, squashed the urge to retreat and continued downwards.

The stairs seemed to descend forever, though the decent couldn't have been more than a minute. At last they opened into a small corridor. The corridor had a slight slope upwards. Its end fed out into what appeared to be a much larger stone chamber. Chres trekked onward. Pooling water and hushed voices could be heard echoing out from the chamber ahead.

I don’t like this. Sil thought. The words caught him off guard. They mirrored the same thoughts in Chres’s head. Unusual for Sil.

Chres looked to her form, sitting atop his shoulder. She was huddled in a ball. Arms wrapped around her legs. She shivered. Her image blurred once, twice, three times.

Sil, what’s wrong? Chres thought to her with concern.

Something… in my head… looking… searching…

Sil… Chres thought back. She didn’t answer.

“Sil!” Chres said more urgently.

Sil’s form burred thrice more, before finally settling down. Her shivering ceased. She lift her head and blinked.

“Sil…” Chres said again.

She then looked to Chres and smiled. “Oh... Why hello there, Chres.” She said happily. “Hm?” Sil blinked again, her attention drawn to their surroundings. “Oh… We’re still here?”

Still concerned, Chres was about to question Sil further when he noticed the voices had quieted in the chamber ahead.

“Aaaah, it sounds like our guests have arrived…” Came a male voice from the chamber. The owner had an accent that Chres couldn’t quite place. “Come on in then…”

Reluctantly, Chres turned his attention away from Sil and entered the chamber. The chamber was large and circular, with five other exits other than the one they came from. Armed men stood by each of the entrances, carrying quarterstaffs and cudgels. The ceiling was domed shape. From it hung several crystal jade lanterns lighting up the room.

Trickles of water pooled out from a few holes on the far side of the wall. The water ran down a rocky surface and into a pool below. The pool itself fed into two small channels that split the room. The channels curved off in separate directions, each feeding into their own openings. Their destination unknown.

To the left and right were two burning hearths. The flames colored black, from the distortion, and yet they still gave off an orange glow. The fires pillared smoke which rose into ventilation shafts that likely led to the surface above. Several smaller shafts dotted the walls and ceilings. They likely acted as a precaution against any smoke that built up, and as a means to recycle the chamber’s air with the air above.

A man stood chained by each of the fires. Naked save for a rag around their waists and a veil covering their faces. Their feet were shackled and chained to a nearby wall. Their skin an odd orange brown hue.

The men tended to the fires. Placing logs as needed. With the limited clothing provided, Chres suspected their lives likely depended on maintaining the fire, least they succumb to the cavern's chill.

Lounging on a sofa, by the leftmost fire, lay a full-bosomed woman with almond shaped eyes and silky black hair tied in a bun. The woman was wrapped in a thick, long, forest green cloak. A white wool turtleneck popped out from beneath. The turtleneck's length had been exaggerated enough to cover the bottom half of her face. She studied the Chres and his companions silently. Judging them with her eyes.

Sitting on a cushioned chair across from her was a tall dark skinned man. His hair grey and balding. Creases lined the man’s face. They etched a permanent frown. The man was wrapped in wool blankets, struggling to stay warm in the chilly cavern. He eyed each of them distrustfully. When his eyes fell upon Ferris, he sneered. He then turned away and inched closer to the fire.

Between the two of them stood an average sized man. Interestingly, skin was of the same hue as the slaves tending to the fire. His hair was long and silver. His eyes light blue. He was draped in long, strange foreign clothes tied at his waist. They were a dark greenish grey in color and stopped just above his feet.

The man clasped his hands behind his back, and gave them a smile that did not reach his eyes. “Well, well.” Said the silver haired man in his accented voice. “If it isn’t the ones who ran across the rooftops.”

Chres felt a breeze brush by him. Talon had swooped down from behind them. The familiar landed comfortably on a wooden perch designed specifically for him. He eyed the group with disinterest.

“Go on then.” The man continued. “What business does the theatric ones have with me?”

@JerkChicken, @13org, @fetzen

---

The man saw how many cultists were running through despite his best efforts. He was busy fighting off some of flunkies when Tayla and some others rode up to the bell platform with the help of some magic. It was quite a sight, seeing the floor stretch up like it was elastic. It was also very very bad, as they circumvented his his attempt to keep them occupied. "Hey! Where are you going?" He yelled at them. He needed to go up and help the two.

"Tex! You're up!" The woman shouted.

All of a sudden this rag wearing man drank some wine and leaned against the wall. He went from shrimp to beefy as Tex launched himself at him. He found his gaze lingering on his bottle. If not good, at least it seemed to have some sort of kick to it. And something strong would be nice, especially after all his gourds have been drank dry. He'd dodge Tex's lunge, and then focus on a series of jabs with his bamboo staff. This would be interesting, he needed to figure out his magic's gimmick and beat him down before Týfurkh and Karina got worn down by the horde above.

---

Smit cursed as he watched Tayla, leave him behind. What was she up to? Their target was right here!

"What are you doing?! Go back Tex up!" He shouted to three other clan men, who wielded spears. "The rest of you, block off the exit so he can't escape."

The two clans men nodded, running up to attack from behind. The others went to the exit.

Smit grit his teeth, as he turned face the dirtied man fighting Tex. Tex dodged the first two jabs from the staff. The third he knocked to the side with his left hand. He threw a punch with his right fist.

What sort of magic was the man using? Smit wondered. Hearing? Touch? Smell? Well, he would start with the basics.

Smit pulled out his Untuning fork, and banged it against the wall. Wincing at it's unpleasant sound.

The fork gave off a wail. It's pitch alternating from high to low. The sound lingered in the air, pounding at the ear drums of all who listened.

---

The man saw the Cultist shouting orders. From what he could tell he seemed to have some sort of leadership position. However, he needed to take care of the spear wielders and this Tex fellow. "How about you let me have a sip and we'll be on even ground?" He said playfully to Tex.The man was too busy with the spears to really have a chance to dodge against his fist. He called upon his power to harden himself against the strike. Surely it was better than getting skewered right? Unsurprisingly, the blow had quite a bit of force and he found himself walking back while using the staff to block the spear strikes.

His urge to beat Tex and the flunkies only grew when Smit was bringing out his toys. The untuning fork was just noise simple as that, but he was aware by process of elimination he'd cancel out his power. Sure, he could still fight, but having some fancy tricks would sure be useful in this crowded environment. The man began to weave his counterattack, the spear lackeys were just there to keep him distracted while Tex actually did the damage. He took advantage of the staff's flexibility and their over reliance on thrusting to control their movements with well placed strikes.

Smit would find himself rather crowded as his lackeys moved their fight closer to him. One of Tex's punches would miss and come uncomfortably close to Smit. "Sorry!" The vagrant warrior would say in mock apology. He'd then take advantage of one of the spear user's formation breaking up a bit from the others to try and trip him with his a sweep and give him some good whacks. He needed to dispatch of one of them and get to Tex, and snatch that wineskin too.

---

Smit dodged out of the way of Tex's punch. Raising an eye brow at the dirtied man's snide apology. The fight was getting too close, they needed to regroup. His ears still pounded from the wail of the fork. The sound still lingered, but gradually getting softer.

The dirtied man tripped one of the spear men and gave him a few wacks. The man groaned on the ground.

Bringing armor would have been a good idea. Smit noted. He whistled twice. Two of the woman by the door joined the fight. One with a quarterstaff of her own. The other, a sword.

He reached into one of his bags, and pulled out a handful of dust sand. "Dusters!" He shouted. A warning to his comrades about the sand he was about to throw. Smit threw the sand out around him. The sand spread through the room, much like a gas. It floated in the air like dust.

Smit's eye grew watery. His vision blurry. He stepped back from the stairs, away from the fight.

"Tex," Smit shouted. "punches aren't working. Go defensive instead."

Tex nodded and touched the stone wall again. The man's muscles deflated. His skin thickened and hardened. Tex dove to the side, snatching up the down man's spear.

Smit grit his teeth. Would this be enough? He looked up towards the stairs. He wanted to follow after Tayla. But Sightless Syella wouldn't be happy if they fail. She especially wouldn't be happy with Tayla in particular.

---

The man noticed these extra interlopers joining the fight after being summoned with the whistle. He feeling constrained by time as really needed to deal with these people and get upstairs to help before it got rough for them. With no idea of the situation above there was only a sense of creeping urgency and a general idea that the more time passed the worse it could get. It was mildly annoying as if they were together or if he had a better idea of what was going on, he could fight them in a more leisurely manner. "This guy, really doesn't want to fight directly does he?" He thought to himself.

Smit did yet another move to try and block magic. This time it was against sight as he threw dust sand at the ground. He stifled the urge to cough as the mildly unpleasant musty smell hit his lungs as his eyes watered from the dust. He made an odd face as one eye was bit more closed than the other. It was distracting but it wouldn't shut him down. Luckily for him, everyone else was suffering from the attack. He noticed Tex touch the wall and deflate as Smit told him fight defensively. His resolve to get to that man only increased. "So far he's used the two out of the five blockers. If I can get to him before he uses my blocker and take the numbing agent, I can get an easier fight since he's one of the few real threats..." He thought to himself as he dodged the staff wielder.

Tex had bent over to pick up the spear. It was at that moment he had called on his power again and rushed towards him with great speed. Rather than attack he stepped over him and used him as a springboard of sorts to get to Smit. He was quickly intercepted by the sword wielder who had swung in a way to break his staff. Unfortunately for her, he had taken care to infuse his staff with his energy. the impact against the wood left not even a mark! To her, it felt like steel hitting steel as the sword hit the staff causing it bounce slightly. He took advantage with a strike that placed part of the staff against her hand and wrist area that was holding the sword. By doing this, he was controlling her attack movement as he used the staff as leverage against her. Try as she might, she could not escape the pin and was disarmed and jabbed in a pressure point for her troubles.

He then flicked the sword up into the other hand with his staff as he got closer to Smit. "Why so concerned about what's going upstairs? Don't you have here to worry about?" He taunted as he looked over Smit trying to quickly identify where the deterrents were on his body. As much as he wanted to thrash him around, he was really looking for that numbing sap. He gave a swipe with the sword at his waist, trying to cut his belt as he figured that might be the location for his magic blockers. Of course he was aware this was easier said than done. Tex and the others were still gunning for him and he didn't know what threat Smit was himself.

---

Upon seeing the man block a sword with his wooden staff, Smit suspected that the sight deterrent was not effective. He need to move on to the next deterrent. He reached into his pouch and pulled out some wheezing pollen.

As if on cue, the man lept over Smit's clan mates and began mocking him for not paying attention. He tilted his head to the side. "You certainly like to talk a lot." He said, while trying to keep to the man's right side.

Smit was at a clear disadvantage in regards to reach. He would not win a fight one on one. The best he could do was to stay away from that sword, and stick closer to the staff. He was far more likely to survive a blow to the gut than a stab in the gut.

Smit pulled out a numbing oil coated knife in his left hand. His other hand still held the pollen. He continued his circling, waiting to see what the man would do. He looked to his teammates. Watched as they closed in on the dirtied man.

---

"Well someone has to make up for the lack of talkativeness on your behalf" He said with a smile.

The man was cornered by him successfully and he needed to be careful getting hit by desperate move. Even if Smit was disadvantaged, he had still had his goons with him. The vagrant saw Smit produce two things, one of them immediately caught his eyes. It was the knife! He knew that Smit was going to rush through the remaining deterrents that he thought would affect him. That knife had to be numbing sap and that clenched fist no doubt had to be some other powder. He knew he was going to be temporarily disabled by the man's next attack. So he had to hurry but and the goons hit him.

"Let me borrow that!" He said cheerfully as he swatted the knife out from his hand with the staff. He dropped and kicked the sword away as he grabbed the knife. Calling upon his power for possibly the last time before he loses it, he enhances his reflexes and perception to beautifully embed the dagger into Tex's shoulder. He then ran after him as swung his staff at the other flunky and focused on beating Tex down while he was weakened. He was anticipating the powder with a cool state of mind. It should be a fair trade right? Lose his power in exchange for taking down one annoying flunky. Besides Smit was next provided he didn't run away from this.

---

Smit cursed. That was a foolish mishap. The dirtied man had done well to guess that Tex’s magic utilized Touch.

Smit scrunched the pollen, he held, into the form of a ball. He dared not throw it at the dirtied man, his movement was peculiar. Instead, he threw the pollen ball at the man’s next target, Tex.

Surprise. That was the only expression Tex showed before the ball of pollen exploded on his face. It clouded the air around both him and the dirtied man. That made three out of five deterrents. He only could hope that this one worked.

The dirtied man made to strike Tex, but not before the woman with the quarterstaff swiped Tex’s footing out from underneath him. One of the
two remaining spear men pulled Tex aside. He removed the knife and began bandaging him up. The other spear man went to back up the woman with the staff.

The woman brought her sweep upwards, in one fluid motion, knocking aside the target's attack. She then quickly adjusted her footing with a pivot, swinging out the other end of her staff to bring out the dirtied man’s footing from underneath him.

With Tex down, Smit whistled yet again. The last man guarding the exit joined the fray. The man pulled out a cudgel. He charged at the dirtied man from behind.

Smit pulled out another knife with numbing oil. He chucked it at the dirtied man’s side. As the knife left his hand, Smit swooped down and grabbed the sword discarded by their target.

---

^{@Pezz570@HokumPocus}
Ferris followed his companions in, removing his sword, daggers, and belt of scent flasks. When Talon pointed out Chres’ hidden daggers, Ferris glanced up at the bird, pulling out his hidden blades and reserve canisters. As much as he disliked being unarmed, there was no helping it for now, and to make up for it he pulled his mask off. The scent of the room betrayed nothing new, but he’d be prepared if that were to change. Then, after waiting patiently as the guards patted him down, he watched as a trapdoor was lifted to reveal stairs leading downwards. Following Chres down the stairs, Ferris was surprised by how old the building was. Judging by the secrecy of The Watch, it was unlikely for them to utilize a premade secret room, meaning that the staircase had to have been made by people within the organization. That in turn meant that The Watch was old and had survived for over a lifetime for some, calling into question just what their plans were. Most plans spanned a single lifetime, and Ferris wondered about the usefulness of an organization willing to wait for so long. From what Ferris understood of his new teammates, their group was one that did things in the now, not one that waited until they thought the time was right.

Sometime along the descent, Ferris realized that he was suddenly distinctly aware of his senses, aware of the stale stench of the corridors and the lack of airflow within it, leading each person’s breath and scent to linger about them as they continued down. With the sensitivity came a faint floral scent of scent common to taste magic users, but as soon as he took another breath to double-check the scent started to sharpen into the minty scent of hearing magic, which confused him. But, before he could check again, he realized that as quickly as the sensitivity had come, it had gone, leaving without giving him ample time to explore its effects. This all was sufficient to unsettle him, and he glanced between his teammates, not liking their situation. If they were ambushed now, they had little by the means of defense.

Still, Ferris followed as Chres continued down, reaching the bottom just as the scent in the air started to smell sharp and sour, like the scent of sight magic users. He still had no idea what he was smelling exactly, which left him on edge as he tried checking again and again, each time arriving at different results. In the case that it was more than one scent, he could understand the situation, but in that case he’d be able to continue smelling multiple scents at a time. Currently, he only smelled one scent at a time, each bleeding into another until the first was almost undetectable, and Ferris didn’t like it one bit. His sense of smell was his most trusted sense, and he wondered whether he’d been drugged. The air in the staircase appeared to hold no threat other than being a little stale, but new concoctions were being made every day, and Ferris wouldn’t be surprised if an order specifically made to fight magic-users had found some sort of gas to throw his adept sense off.

His wariness didn’t leave even as the group entered the chamber at the bottom of the staircase, and inside was a slew of characters Ferris wouldn’t have expected. That there were slaves meant that the organization wasn’t above inhumane methods, which was just as well. Nothing about the situation hinted at a righteous set of values, which may well be for the better; upstanding values were hard to deal with, often being uncompromising and too black and white to work with.

The man in the center of the room easily captured Ferris’ attention as Ferris traced the shifting scents to him. Given that Ferris had never come across such a scent, he didn’t quite know what to make of it. Did it mean that the man could wield all the different magics, that he was merely covering up his scent with a well-concocted guise, or that he had another power entirely? Whatever it was, Ferris watched the silver-haired man carefully, his gaze flickering between the two beside him. When the man beside the silver-haired one sneered, Ferris met his gaze impassively, lingering on him as he turned towards the fire before the silver-haired man started speaking. Though his words didn’t mean anything to Ferris, it was clear that he knew of Chres and Octavio, which in turn meant that they hadn’t been inclined to offer help. As such, Ferris guessed that the organization had already discussed and come to a conclusion about his companions and their cause, which meant this meeting was more of a formality than a true meeting.

When the man asked his question, Ferris glanced at his companions. As the newest member of the group, it seemed only right to allow someone else to broker the new relationship, especially since Ferris couldn’t be sure he’d represent the group appropriately. The sneer the blanketed man had given him spoke some about The Watch’s thoughts on him, and Ferris wasn’t one to think he could change someone’s mind with a single meeting.

^{@13org@Fetzen@Pezz570}

---

The moment Karina's ice blades impaled one of the attackers, she got ready to lunge with her rapier on the remaining one, but she heard Týfurkh's bolt, whistling through the air and hitting the last one straight in the chest, as he fell to the ground dead.

With the two attackers who rushed them having been dealt swiftly by both Karina's ice blades and Týfurkh's bolt, Karina hoped that Tayla would loose her cool after the provocations, unfortunately, it seemed that the death of the two men who rushed them had made her calm herself down and rethink before rushing towards Karina. At that point, Karina herself knew that both sides were in a stalemate, her and Týfurkh were at numeric disadvantage, but due to their positioning and ranged abilities, Tayla wouldn't be able to do anything either. While that could be good in a way for her and Týfurkh, DB was still down there fighting alone.

Surprisingly enough, the moment Karina was starting to think about a plan, she saw the stone wall suddenly disappearing as it got back to it's original shape, revealing Tayla, who was alone behind it. Not really knowing what was happening, Karina immediately summoned two more ice blades, assuming a combat stance, alert to anything that might be happening. What was Tayla's plan? Did she found another route for her allies to surround her and Týfurkh? It was hard to believe that the same woman who had many allies with her was alone now, there were surely more than the three which were killed by Karina and Týfurkh...

Paying attention to Tayla's every movement and her own surroundings, Karina silently waited for her first movement and trying to discover what was Tayla's plan.

---

For a brief moment Týfurkh could hardly believe what he was seeing. That slimy, unfortunately quite lethal and no less annoying girlie that called herself Tayla appeared to be much more of a borderline imbecile slut that he had thought her to be so far. The warped stone barricade was gone and so were those who apparently had accompanied her and who were not already lying on the floor. A good and a bad feeling started a race up his spine. The good one told him that this might be an unique opportunity born out of sheer chance. The bad feeling objected that this might be a mere trick: She might have rendered her men invisible and they might stab both him and Karina into the back in a moment, or she might have found another way for them to come up here and decided to act as a distraction in the meantime.

Anyway, as long as no other targets were available it would be an act of foolishness to defer shooting at her. The moment Týfurkh's crossbow gave off that satisfying, solid sound of the latch holding the bowstring engaging he pulled up the massive and heavy weapon and aimed right at where Tayla's heart was supposed to be.

What if it would turn out that she didn't even have one ? What if the bolt would merely punch a hole into an otherwise hollow section of her body located between her breasts ? She might very well have exchanged it for her magical capabilities if that was possible at all. This woman couldn't be trusted... And hopefully her life would end right here, right now. Týfurkh pulled the trigger.

---

Tayla eyed her opponents. She would need to keep them busy to get her plan to work. It would probably be best if she maintained a distance.

She clenched a handful of coins in her right hand. One of the touch deterrent knives remained in her left. Tayla eyed the white haired woman for half a second. Taste or touch? From their previous encounter, Smit believed he narrowed down the woman’s magic typing between those two forms of magic.

She turned her gaze away from the woman and towards the giant who raised his crossbow. She crouched. Tasting sour.

Tayla leapt forward, straightening her legs behind her. She added a linear velocity to three separate objects. Her clothes, her boots and the coins in her hands. The coins shot towards the man at frightening speeds, while the velocities embedded in her clothes and boots launched her upwards and in the direction of the giant.

Her extra boost helped her reach a height and distance unattainable by any normal jump. However, the direction of both velocities were different. The velocity added to her clothes pulled her at a more vertical direction, while he boots more horizontally.

She felt a pain nick the side of her left thigh. The bolt from the crossbow. She had been too slow to fully avoid it. Fortunately it had been just a nick. If it had been anything more, it could have been trouble.

Tayla put her right thumb to the flat of the blade in her hand. The feeling in her thumb went numb from the numbing oil. Unconcerned, she instead focused on the savory taste in her mouth. The blade extruded past the white haired woman. The motion of Tayla’s jump threatened to bring the blade in contact with the woman’s waist.

She didn’t expect the attack to hit. Having fought the woman before, Tayla figured the woman would find some way avoid it and then throw a counter attack of her own. All Tayla needed was to keep the woman occupied and at a distance. So long as she managed that, Tayla could execute her real plan.

Tayla was reaching the apex of her jump. She raised her left hand upwards. It grazed the giant bell above.

---

As Týfurkh pulled the trigger, making the bolt fly through the air with a wistle, Karina got ready to lunge towards Tayla. She knew that the moment Týfurkh shot, he would have to reload and would be probably vulnerable.

A moment before she did so though, she saw Tayla leaping up and forward with frightening speed as she threw a handful of coins towards Týfurkh. Whatever her plan was, it didn't seem that smart, as she was trying to fight both Týfurkh and Karina on her own. Unless... She was trying to simply stall them, maybe waiting for reinforcements or something.

Unfortunately for Taylah, both Týfurkh and Karina herself knew very well what they were doing. Týfurkh's bolt grazed her left thigh. Something that would certainly affect her ability to move and dodge despite having only grazed her leg.
Before she even completed her jump though, Tayla used her magic to stretch her blade towards Karina, aiming towards her waist.

Thanks to Karina's reflexes, it wasn't hard to parry her attack, delicately redirecting Tayla's blade with her own rapier and by turning her own body as she immediately sent one of her ice blades towards Taylah, aiming to her abdomen.

Even after that though, Karina was still confused to know what Tayla's plan was, thinking hard as she positioned herself to send more ice blades and attack Taylah with a lunge the second she hit the ground. When Taylah got on the very apex of her jump though, she raised her left hand up, towards the bell above them. The second she did so, Karina knew what she was trying to do. She would probably try to make the bell fall on top of them. Unfortunately, Karina didn't have enough time do do anything to stop Taylah, since she was already doing what she had planned.

Opening her eyes wide in surprise, Karina tried to warn Týfurkh.
"UP, THE BEL-" Karina tried to warn Týfurkh.

---

Týfurkh found it rather hard to believe that Tayla had been able to cause him to miss for the major part of it. Magic seemed to be very strong in that bitch and pretty unknown to him so far, so her jump had come mostly unexpected for him. If it had just happened a few moments later... Needless to say that this was much to Týfurkh's misfortune as now he had effectively run out of projectiles ready to use.

Or had he ?

Tayla's very last volley of coins had managed to cause several bleeding wounds in Týfurkh's face. The pain only helped to make him angry, but now the man had difficulties to keep his eyes clear from the blood running down his forehead. Not only was reloading pretty much impossible with the speed required, but also Týfurkh would have difficulties to aim with his eyesight being impaired this way. However things also meant that now there was a particularly significant number of coins lying on the ground right in front of his feet.

Týfurkh didn't think that Tayla would be able to do much harm towards him while she was relatively high in the air, especially not if he'd crouch in the meantime in order to scoop up as much of those as he could. He collected them in his armored hand, forming a neat, compact pile of loose, heavy metal. This would be good, an attack that maybe would turn out to have been entirely unexpected in the aftermath... Týfurkh started charging the coins with acoustic energy, causing the coins to vibrate violently. It was an invisible force that only revealed itself upon being touched without Týfurkh's magic stabilizing it while the charging process was still underway.

Then he turned around on his heel, reestablished his direct line of sight towards Tayla and anticipated the rough area where she'd come down to the ground again. Due to his actions he had missed her touching the bell in the meantime, but even if not: He currently had no idea what she could do to these things. However Týfurkh perfectly know what would happen if a few of these coins would finally, hopefully, score a full hit: Things would become nasty, probably even a little gory without that much being seen from the outside.

He dropped the crossbow, tossed the pile into Tayla's direction and raised his other hand in order to protect his own eyes from the amount of wooden splinters and other debris that the reaction could potentially produce.

---

Tayla had already stopped applying velocity to her clothes. She had replaced the sour cotton tuft with the sugary one instead. It accompanied the savory taste already filling her tongue.

Her magic triggered, she imbued the bell with a significant amount of weight. The roofing groaned, followed by several small cracks of stone. A few bits of rubble fell. The ceiling lurched slightly downwards, threateningly. Other than that, nothing happened.

Tayla didn’t have time to complain. An ice blade was flying at her fast. She stopped warping the knife. It instantly returned it to its original shape. She then applied a new warp, stretching the knife into a thin shield.

The shield was still forming by the time the ice blade reached Tayla. She barely managed to get the half formed shield up in time to clip the cold blade of death. Tayla braced herself for whatever the woman was planning.

The ice blade shattered on impact. No tricks, just a normal blade of ice. It surprised her. So much so, she didn’t even notice the recycled coins the giant man had thrown.

Tayla landed on the ground. Her left foot stepping on a single coin. An explosive burst of vibrations shook the ground beneath her left foot. It tore through her boot, shredding the sole to pieces.

Surprise. Shock. Tayla cried out, tears of pain welling in her eyes. She collapsed to her right side on top of land on two more coins. More pain followed.

Dazed, Tayla felt her body rolling. Behind her, she vaguely heard the sound of a few more explosions. The bursts gave way to splinters. She felt a few dig into her back.

Tayla came to a stop. She forced herself to her knees. Her right sleeve was almost entirely shredded. Its cuff hung limply by a single remaining shred of cloth. A modestly sized hole had also been tore through her shirt, along her back right shoulder. She could feel blood beginning to trickle out of both her shoulder and arm.

Her foot had been more fortunate, the boot taking the worst of the blow. Still she could feel a painful bruising that would surely appear in the coming days. That is… if she lived long enough to see another day.

Tayla didn’t have time to ponder what happened. The blow had left her vulnerable. She felt the familiar spike of panic and fear.

The two of them were monsters. What had she been thinking, when she had decided to fight them alone?

Distantly, she heard her father’s shouts of rage. The cracking of wood as he broke down the door. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide.

Tayla raised her head. Her eyes wide with terror.

@Typical @hokumpocus @Pezz570

---

Octavio descended the stairs with agile, careful movements, distrustful of both the aged stone around him and entire situation in general. When they had at last arrived at the secret chamber, he wasn´t the least bit interested in the odd sight of men in rags tending to a pair of fires. He had seen far stranger things happening to people with less clothing in the parties certain wealthy nobles had hosted, and if it was something related to magic, then they were obviously going to keep their mouth shut about it. Even with his poor sense of smell he picked up faint traces of stale air. He wondered how Ferris felt whenever he winded up in caverns, dungeons, and the like, considering how much worse they could be once you started throwing diseased animals and corpses into the mix.

Lynx had been quiet for some time now, keeping his thoughts to himself. A familiar content with servitude…

The words were head by no one. He mulled some more, finally speaking to Octavio once he was satisfied with his theory.

This man clearly has a lot of protection. That ought to be a powerful incentive if you´re weak.

Ah, so he had been trying to justify acting like a brat. Octavio nearly sighed out loud. Like us?

They had been ordered to remove their weapons before having entered the chamber, which had filled Octavio with unease. He had plotted to keep a few on him, but seeing his companions obey the command had persuaded him to follow suit. He didn´t want to be the reason they got impaled in a secret chamber after all. He was now without his twin daggers, throwing knives, and the jewelry that allowed him to summon illusions, and if that hadn´t been concerning enough, there were a handful of armed guards near each of the chamber´s many passages.

A man inside the chamber spoke to them, his words causing confusion to color Octavio´s face.

“Theatric ones? What do you mean by that?” he asked, amused. A part of him wanted to desperately worry about how this man had learned about their exploits, but if Octavio´s encounter with the being of many names had taught him anything, it was that it was best to just let these people go ahead with their powermongering and hope you weren´t incinerated at some point. His own words, ones he had told the party far back, echoed in his mind. If he wanted to kill us, then he would´ve already done it.

---

The black haired woman turned a lazy gaze to the silver haired man. “Kharu-Natjer,” She said. Her voice was melodic and smooth. “Mayhap these are not the people you thought. Should we let the dogs slit their throats?” Her words came much like a calm stream of flowing water, as if discussing of death was a natural routine for her.

The dark skinned man sniffed at the woman’s words. “Wasteful.” He said. There was a dignity to his words. His voice was deep and rich. His accent, local to the Nation of Sight. “At the very least, do away with that abomination.” He motioned over to Ferris. “Its kind is unpredictable at best.”

The Kharu-Natjer raised his hand silencing the two. “Peace, my friends.” He said “Our guests are simply apprehensive, is all. I’m sure you both can relate.”

The dark skinned man let out a begrudging ‘Hmph’. He flicked his gaze back towards the black flames sprouting from the fire. Tightening the blanket wrapped around him, he leaned closer to the fire’s warmth.

The woman said nothing. Her steady gaze studied the group. Her expression remained unreadable. Chres’ instincts told him this woman was dangerous. Best to keep an eye on her.

“Or, perhaps I was incorrect.” The Kharu-Natjer continued. “Perhaps… some cleanup is required.” His smile deepened.

"They had us surrounded.” Chres said. “The building was on fire. Escape by rooftop was a necessity.”

“Indeed.” The Kharu-Natjer agreed. “It seems we share a mutual foe…”

The silver haired man clapped his hands twice. On cue, the guards left the room. Four new male slaves entered replacing the guards. Three slaves carried cushioned chairs. The fourth had a comfortable looking mat that one would give a pet.

Each of the slaves had the same orange-tan skin tone. Their faces also covered by veils. These slaves were better dressed than the ones tending the fire, though not by much. They wore a robe, of a similar style to the silver haired man’s garments. Unlike his clothes, theirs were thin and tattered. It stopped short around their knees and the sleeves had been ripped off. Their feet were bare and thick with calluses.

The slaves placed the furnishings around the silver haired man and his group. Then as quickly as they had come, they left. Not a word to be said.

“Come.” The Kharu-Natjer said. “Have a seat by the fire.”

Hesitantly, Chres walked forward and took a seat.

---

The woman’s words drew Ferris’ eyes to her, but Ferris’ attention was quickly refocused on the dark-skinned man across from her. Judging by the sneer earlier, the dark-skinned man had disdain for him at best, but though Ferris didn’t mind the label, he did mind the easy suggestions of death being thrown around. He’d pegged the organization as harsh, perhaps severe in their methods, but not unscrupulous; while Ferris and his companions were the ones that had sought them out, they were the ones who’d opened the door and asked them to remove their weapons, which they did as a sign of good faith. Their words now, then, suggested that they didn’t care for such gestures, didn’t care for the visit or their visitors in general, and that was unfortunate.

Easing the situation over was Kharu-Natjer, or so the woman beside the center man had called him. Whether the name was a given name, a title, or some mixture of both was unclear, but he was the clear leader in the room, even with his suave manner of speech. Kharu-Natjer’s suggestion of ‘cleanup,’ followed by his ready acceptance of Chres’ words and summoning of some chairs for the group, had Ferris develop a dislike for The Watch. He’d assumed the group to be a righteous one, fighting to maintain the dignity of their people and nation, but with every other sentence they sunk lower, throwing threats around to get reactions despite knowing exactly why their visitors had come. It was a poor mockery of brandishing the carrot and stick, especially since Ferris and his companions had no way of knowing whether they held either, but when the man invited them to sit, Ferris heeded, taking the seat closest to dark-skinned man. Though he didn’t like to stir up the water, the sooner the man got the message that he was staying, the better. Besides, if they thought he was a threat, they wouldn’t have let him walk through the door, much less show him the path down.

When he looked over, Ferris met his eyes, then slid his gaze back to Kharu-Natjer, who’d already established the peace. Abomination he might be, but it’d be a waste for The Watch to refuse help of any kind, given the state of their kingdom.

---

The Kharu-Natjer gave a satisfied smiled as he watched everyone take a seat. "Wonderful." He said while absently snapping his fingers three times. He clasped his hands behind his back and turned to the fire.

Three more slaves entered the room. These ones were female. Each wore black collars around their neck and the same veils as the men. They had a dirty white cloth wrapped intricately around their upper bodies accompanied by a moth-bitten skirt with a tattered drape that flowing down from their waist to just above their left ankle.

Like the other slaves, these ones had a the same orange-tan skin tone. They entered with their heads were bowed, revealing a shaven head. Each carried a tray with food or drink. One carried a tray with wine. Another had bread and fruit. The third carried exotic cheeses.

The slaves made their rounds to each of them. The woman took a few grapes. Lounging in the crevice of the sofa, She plucked a single grape from the bunch but did not lower the exaggerated turtle neck that covered the bottom of her face. Instead she stretched it outwards with her free hand. She dropped the grape into the opening and chewed. Her eyes never left the group.

The Kharu-Natjer grabbed a glass of wine, and a pick of cheese. He ate the cheese, putting the stay pick back on the tray. He did not take a sip from his glass of wine, though. Instead, he held it to his lips as if in thought.

The dark skinned man took nothing. Instead he gave the slaves a disdainful look and waved them away. He then turned his arrogance to Ferris, eyeing the Crazed with annoyance. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but then thought better of it. Instead he sniffed and looked away.

The slaves made their way to Chres. Taking the dark skinned man's lead, he waved them along as well. It didn't feel quite right being fed this way. The rest of the town was unable to get the food they needed. Instead of the helping the town which the food problem, these people instead seemed to be stockpiling their own stores.

"The Watch seems quite comfortable considering everyone else in town will soon be starving." Chres said offhandedly.

The woman said nothing in response to Chres's comment. Instead her eyes appear to twinkle with amusement. She dropped another grape beneath the cover of her turtle neck.

The dark skinned man had quite the opposite reaction. His eye twitched as if Chres had hit a nerve. His lips curled upwards in a sneer. "The Watch-" He growled. "-was made by the people, for the people! These people do not represent our ideals."

The comments caught Chres off guard. He had assumed that everything they encountered was of The Watch's doing. However, the man's words implied that he was mistaken.

"One should not bite the hand that feeds it." Talon said. His feathers ruffled and smooth excitedly. "Would you prefer my master to end our assistance to your cause?" The bird leaned forward in his perch and stared down the man predatorily.

"The watch... I see... so that's why you've come..." The Kharu-Natjer said as he lowered the wine glass from his lips. "Calm yourself Malkev... These people did not know that only one of us here represents The Watch."

Chres narrowed his eyes. What was it the innkeeper had said? He thought. That he knew of someone who might know where to find The Watch? Chres re-evaluated The Kharu-Natjer. So then... who has our friend brought us too?

As if reading his mind, The Kharu-Natjer turned towards the group and answered. "Allow me to introduce myself, though I do not have a name in the strictest sense... It was traded long, long ago..."

The Kharu-Natjer raised his glass to his lips and took a sip. "Those who know me have given me the name Kharu-Natjer... Though, it's more of a title really. I act as... a resource to some... An information broker to others." The Kharu-Natjer said, choosing his words carefully. "I suppose that is why your friend brought you here... Little did he know..." He smiled as if amused.

The Kharu-Natjer stretched his palm to the dark skinned man. "To the left you have the Malkev. Head of The Watch." Malkev frowned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the mention of his title. "And to my right-"

"Svephraey." The woman interrupted causally. She tossed another grape into her mouth.

The Kharu-Natjer smiled, as he gave her a side long glance. "She's a-"

"-I am the order to man's chaos." Svephraey continued ambiguously. "An unseen shadow who keeps the dogs loyal, while putting down the rabid... or-" Svephraey looked to each of them in turn, and then to the the final grape which she had delicately pulled from the bunch. She raised the grape level with her eye. "-those who like to talk." Absently, she squished the grape between her thumb and forefinger. Its remains were tossed into the fire behind her.

The Kharu-Natjer chuckled softly. "I was going to say '-friend'." Svephraey eyed The Kharu-Natjer and shrugged.

---

Just as Tayla landed, she was struck by the coins Týfurkh put on the ground. While Karina didn't understand his magic that well, whatever he did with them made Tayla feel an excruciating pain when she stepped on them. It seemed like he made them become a type of landmine using vibrations. Nonetheless, it was quite an interesting ability.
That said, it was the end for Tayla. She was undeniably cornered. Wounded and now fighting alone against both Týfurkh and Karina, there was no possible way for her to beat them and her terror filled expression made it clear that she knew that fact.

The second Tayla looked towards them though, she saw Karina lunging towards her, the beautiful blade of her rapier approaching Tayla's throat in a deadly thrust. When it got nearby Tayla though, Karina stopped, holding her on the point of her rapier.

"It's over, Tayla." Karina said, looking deep inside the woman's terror filled eyes.

For a second, Karina seemed to stop, almost as if hesitating to end the woman's life.

"Stop the other cultists', now. Tell them to retreat and let us leave. You don't have many choices." Karina demanded, looking to her with a cold, piercing gaze.

"Why are you so willing to throw away your life and fight for these people, who want nothing more but to corrupt and destroy everything. Just like they did with this town?" she asked. Despite Karina asking that question, the urgency on her voice was clear. Tayla's life depended on her own words, both her answer to that question and if she would make the cultists retreat or not.

@JerkChicken, @13org, @fetzen

---

This was it, just when he expected it would happen. The man sneezed and wrinkled his nose as the scent of pollen filled his lungs. He could feel the power that was coursing through him fizzle and leave him, like a drink that's gone flat. Truthfully while he expected to be hit by the deterrent as he reached Tex, he wasn't expecting Tex the one to be hit for the sake of dispersing the pollen. Of course, even if he was expecting it, there was still the issue if he could manage getting through this fight without his powers. At least Tex was out of the picture. The woman managed to trip him up successfully. He scarcely had time to do anything else but use his staff as balancing aid. Using the flexibility of the bamboo, he used it to spring back rather the stumble. Much to his annoyance Smit summoned yet another cultist. He narrowly avoided getting clocked by the cudgel.

It was annoying, he had two people with equal reach that were going to poke at him while he also was trying to take care of the cudgel wielder from getting close. He rushed down the cudgel user with his staff as he kept striking the limb which held the cudgel. Eventually his arm was beginning to turn into limp spaghetti which allowed him to acquaint his staff to the man's face. His staff deflected the knife, which in turn was thrown at the spear user. He methodically attacked her as they were equal in reach. The man was focused on doing strikes on her limbs. The legs to if not trip her, than slow and make her movements wobbly from fatiguing them. Same logic went to her arms which he focused on more. It seemed as if he was attempting to disarm her, which was true. He wanted to temporarily take her staff whose solid oak material would be useful for what he had in mind.

---

The man with the cudgel got smacked right in the nose. He collapsed on his back, grabbing a broken nose that bled freely. The next to go down was the spearman going backing up the woman with the quarterstaff. Keln was his name.

Smit watched as the knife bedded itself in Keln’s neck. He fell to his knees, grasping desperately at his neck. He pulled out the knife. It was a useless attempt to save himself. His death came soon after.

Keln took his last breath. He had been a good lad. Always followed instructions and attentive to orders. Smit had high hopes for that one. Now those hopes were gone.

The man with the cudgel stood back up, his balance unsteady. Meanwhile, the woman with the quarterstaff was struggling knock the man’s strikes away from her feet. Fortunately she was granted a reprieve.

Having finished binding the dazed Tex, the third spearman jumped in to aid her. He slapped away the bamboo staff with the butt of the spear. Twirling the spear back around, he did a quick jab for the gut followed by a slash.

Smit shook his head. Things were not looking good. The man didn’t even appear to be breaking a sweat. Tayla should have been here. What was she doing?

Smit turned his gaze upwards in time to see two clan members hurrying down the steps. “Where are the others?” He asked, trying to keep the worry from his face.

The two clan members looked to one another. It was the female deterrent user who answered. “Dead.” She said.

Smit’s face paled. “And Tayla?” He asked.

“She’s...” The woman hesitated, causing Smit’s anxiety to spike. The woman looked upwards, clearly concerned.

“She’s still fighting.” The woman said at last. “Ordered us to help the rest of you.”

“She’s fighting alone?!” Smit asked in shock. The two nodded.

Several loud bursts came from above. Smit tore his attention away from the two clan members and towards the commotion above. Cursing, Smit looked back to their target. His mind was made up.

“Go help them!” He ordered the two. To the deterrent user, he said. “Hearing and sight deterrents didn't work. Likely magic is touch or smell. Already tagged him with pollen. ” He ran past the two and up the stairs.

“What about taste?” The female deterrent asked behind him.

“Probably not.” He called back.

---

"Idiot! You shouldn't have pulled it out." He said as he watched the young man in such a dumb way. It was weird saying that to an enemy that was going to harm him. But something about it just made him blurt that out loud. Also, unlike his other comrades upstairs there was certain unwillingness to fully embrace the killing of the cultists. Perhaps it was a foolish hope, but he was aware of the nature of their corruption. He was hoping that perhaps if they move swiftly enough and kill the seed the cultists would return to their damn senses since the Insight was helping them go nuts and corrupting them. Perhaps there were some who were irredeemable, but all he saw was mostly small fry who could still turn it around should they regain clarity. Whatever it was a complicated matter and no doubt it would be complicated by his allies who were probably way less merciful.

The man smirked at the news of the the woman fighting the others by herself. Good, it was the least he could do. She might be strong, but at least she wasn't being aided by underlings. Unlike this man her whose abilities consisted of deterrents and lackeys. Not to say it wasn't a bad strategy but there seemed to be some sort of power difference between the two. Likely a strong individual warrior backed by someone who was better at managing and analyzing things.

His strikes were seemingly starting to wear away at that woman. He would have been victorious were it not for the other spearman intervening. And now was he taunting him or just overconfident? All that unnecessary motion with shifting the spear to the point again. The man punished the spear user heavily. He cracked him on the hands with his staff and pushed it forward to shove him away. He would then retreat to re-engage the woman again.

He would hit the back of her ribs with a sideswipe and moved in close for a palm strike to a nerve cluster that her out for the count. The man would drop the bamboo staff and kick the wooden quarterstaff into his hands. It was heavier and stiffer, but the weight and its solidity was what he needed. Damn he needed to finish this up for everyone's sake. Even with his great stamina, he wouldn't be able to fight forever. "Hey don't run away you coward!" He yelled at Smit.

"You're not going anywhere!" One of the spearman said as he was running up to skewer him. He had let himself get too distracted by Smit and now it was too late for a proper defense. The vagrant would jut out his staff in a last minute defense against the spearman. The staff would deflect the point away from a much more devastating point, but due to the lateness instead of being deflected safely away instead the point found itself slicing into his upper arm. Of course the spearman would also find himself receiving a painful thrust of wood into his throat straight into his jugular notch.

"I guess I should congratulate finally wounding me. I'm still gonna kick your master's ass once I finish with you all." He'd say coolly. The man he had strike was unable to speak as he was coughing and it seemed the hit was hard enough to trigger a gag reflex. He'd run to the stunned Tex and dodge the deterrents' thrown knives and the cudgel user's swings.

"Dammit Tex is down and he's taking the wine! Are we sure he isn't taste user?" One of the deterrents said in anger.

"Prepare the deterrent for it regardless!" The other one would say. Meanwhile the man had already taken the top off and was consuming the alcohol inside. The remaining weapon users closed in on the man. The cudgel user's attack would find itself denied by the staff yet again. The spear user would however be more successful in skewering the wine skin and pulling it away as the liquid spilled everywhere.

A little bladder filled with Liquid Ageusia would be thrown and pop right on the wound. The man would wince as it hit and he felt the effects of it enter his body. He grit his teeth in response and refused to swallow any of the wine in his mouth, even if was feeling super dry in the mouth from the deterrent. "Good job you hit him!" One of the cultists said. The man in turn would quickly spray wine in the faces of the spear and cudgel user.

Týfurkh honestly had not expected for his plan to work out this brilliantly, but either Tayla was as good of a devilish actor as she was a relentless fighter when she gave every reason for others to believe that she was expecting immediate doom or she truly had been injured badly.

Either way he had no intention of wasting any time. Hopefully Tayla didn't know it, but it would certainly have been a good thing if he had been able to tell Karina openly that his magic was exhausted for the moment. Týfurkh had to switch back to conventional weapons and that ment retrieving and reloading his crossbow. Luckily though Karina seem to have things under pretty good contorl while the aforementioned process was underway...

In fact his companion seemed so confident about her own capability to continue the fight if necessary that Týfurkh started to wonder if he could turn his attention to other things. They had not come here alone, there were others of their group still deep below in the bowels of the tower probably facing off other cultist threats.

"Karina ? If it's okay I'll head downstairs and see after the others so you don't get surprised up here." He didn't expect a detailed answer for not paying any attention to Tayla for even a very brief moment had already proven to be a very dangerous thing. "If you need me just shout and I'll come back as fast as possible!" he added seconds later.

With his crossbow restocked and back in action the giant turned around and left the wooden platform that too had had to pay a price for the fight raging on it, given the various damaged spots that hadn't been there just minutes earlier. Týfurkh didn't pay much attention to the two three men littering the ground in front of the staircases entrace, he simply guided his feet carefully around their bodies before rushing downwards as fast as he could.

The follower of the art of Canor had no idea that, in fact, right now some cultists were on their way up...

---

More slaves entered the chamber, carrying exquisite looking food and drink. Octavio was used to the wealthy parading those below them around with the power of gold, but even he was starting to get confused. They must have been quite powerful to have enough resources to support all of them. While it was tempting to try what they were offering, Chres abstaining made him follow suit. These people seemed too prideful to attempt poisoning them, but there was no point in taking that risk.

The man who appeared to be in charge introduced himself as an information broker, and the other two as the head of the watch and a friend, respectively. Octavio felt the urge to mock the woman and her delusional introduction, but if she was anywhere near the level of the people he had encountered ever since embarking on this journey, then she was probably telling the truth, to some extent. His gaze lingered on her the longest, as if trying to spot anything he could work with. Unfortunately, her odd choice in clothing made that impossible.

What do you suppose she could be? Apparently Lynx had been thinking the same thing.

Leader of some sort of mercenary group, red herring, the true instigator of this gathering, a delusional underling, close relative or lover to someone in this chamber, owner of the slaves... thought Octavio, dumping his ideas now that Lynx had opened the floodgates. That stunt with the grape was particularly interesting. I didn't think adults had it in them to do that kind of thing.

You did something similar when we infiltrated-

Yes but the wealthy are a different matter! A small huff from him permeated both of their minds. What interest does the order to man's chaos who murders rabid dogs and such have in squeezing grapes menacingly to intimidate a group of nobodies?

Lynx flicked his tail. Being called a nobody must have rubbed him the wrong way. Octavio didn't care.

@13org

---

Tayla furrowed her brow in confusion. Why was she not dead? Did the woman just want to taunt Tayla some more? She stared down the blade, all too aware of the deadly point just under her chin.

"Stop the other cultists', now. Tell them to retreat and let us leave. You don't have many choices." The woman said.

Ah, so that's why. She wanted Tayla to order her own death. She felt the embers of hatred begin to glow. Tayla looked up defiantly into the woman's piercing gaze.

NEVER! She would never do such a thing! She was about to say as much when the woman's next words cut her like a knife.

Why? She wanted to know why she was with the cult? Tayla's defiance faltered. The corner of her mouth twitched once. Twice. Tayla grit her teeth doing her best not to betray any emotion.

Why? Because they gave her a home. A family. A place of sanctuary. Why? Because without them she was weak. Starving. A little girl whose everyday worry was her next meal, shelter from the cold, and a hiding place from those that would defile her. Without the clan she was nobody! Without the clan she had nobody! Without the clan, she- she-

Tayla's eyes began to well up with tears. Frustration. Anger. Hatred. Humiliation. Shame. All of those emotions bubbled to the surface at once. NO! She refused! She would not give this woman the satisfaction of bringing her to tears!

"What do you care?!" Tayla spat. "You, who are so obviously more privileged than the other people in this town who live beneath you!"

She felt the first tear fall. Damn it all... "Why do you even care?!" She screamed closing her eyes in frustration.

Damn this woman! Tayla thought. More tears fell. Damn her to hell...

Tayla's mind raced. She would not die by the hands of this woman! Whatever had hit her, had caused her to spit out the cotton tufts in her mouth. Instead, she tasted something else in her mouth. Blood. Salty. If she played her cards right she might have a way out of this.

She grabbed the wrist of her wounded right arm with her left hand. She winced at the pain, while in-overtly she slipped her right hand out of the dangling cuff that remained of her tattered sleeve. She could use the remains of her sleeve as a shield block the blade from cutting her neck. All she needed was the right moment.

^{@13org@Fetzen@Pezz570}

---

"No problem, Týfurkh. I have things under control. Go down there and help DB. He's been fighting alone all this time." Karina replied to Týfurkh's words as he said he was going downstairs to aid DB. With Tayla wounded and cornered, there was little she could do. Not only that, but she was confident she could deal with Tayla by herself.

Looking at the girl straight in the eyes with a cold, serious stare, it was clear to Tayla that she wouldn't hesitate to kill if she had to. As Karina looked down to the wounded woman, Tayla would be able to see her breath, visible due to her bodily temperature after using ice magic. Surprisingly enough, Karina wasn't tired, instead Tayla could see by her rhythmed breathing that she still had a lot of stamina to continue fighting. If Tayla thought about how Karina fought now that she had already beaten her, she would realize why that petite, seemingly fragile girl had such a monstrous stamina. Karina always tried to conserve her energy when she moved. Her graceful and fluid motions had no wasted movements nor did she waste momentum, making her fighting style flow seamlessly as she transitioned from one move to another one.

"You are not a religious fanatic like the other cultists. You seem to be different. I am giving you an opportunity. Don't throw it away. I will ask you once more, why did you join the cult?" Karina said with a serious, cold tone in her voice, still watching every movement Tayla made.

"I need to understand the cult if I want to fight against it. You saw what they do to people. Do you really think it's right?" Karina asked, looking to Tayla. Karina was really trying to understand Tayla's reasons. Her words though would probably make Tayla a bit confused. What did she mean by 'opportunity'?

Interaction with @Typical @HokumPocus

---

Chres looked from Malkev, to Svephraey, and then to the Kharu-Natjer. He didn’t like the atmosphere here one bit.

“You imply we are allies, due to a common enemy.” The Kharu-Natjer nodded with a smile. “I can’t speak for my comrades here, but I don’t-“

“Oh, for the love of-” Malkev interjected with his deep rich voice. “Are we just going to sit around here and voice our distrust for one another while tossing around ominous threats left and right?”

The Kharu-Natjer simply took another sip of his wine. “Peace Malkev.”

“Peace? Peace?! Lord of Senses take your ‘Peace’!” Malkev spat.

The Kharu-Natjer’s expression turned sour at the man’s curse. His ever present smile turning to displeasure. He quickly took a sip of wine, letting the glass cover his frown. Once again he turned to face the fire.

Out the corner of his eye, Chres caught the man’s familiar batting its wings excitedly as it crouched forward in its perch. Meanwhile, Svephraey’s gaze went from Malkev, to The Kharu-Natjer, and back again. Her eyebrow arched in amusement. It was the most expressive she had been since the start of the conversation.

Malkev seemed to have missed the change in atmosphere. Instead, he continued on. “The reason I’m here today is to put aside pettiness and address the issue that is plaguing this town.”

“You.” Malkev said, pointing a finger in Ferris’s direction. “I don’t like you or your kind… However-” He paused for half a second, his mouth twitching as if he were trying to cover a sneer. “If you've come here seeking to assist The Watch in ridding this town of the Cult... Then... Then I’ll...”

Malkev’s scrunched up his nose. His mouth seemed to struggle to form the words he sought. Finally, he sighed and bowed his head. “Then I’ll look the other way.” He said reluctantly in a quiet voice. “Yesterday’s massacre has left this town in shambles... The cult controls the walls, the food, and if I were to hazard a guess, the governance as well. I... I’ll take help wherever I can get it. Even if I do begrudge where such help may come from.”

Malkev raised his head. His eyes held hard defiant look. “I’m here to fight back against the people who seek to take away our way of life. Alone I don’t have the weapons, information or resources to fight against this… this siege on our culture. These people,-” Malkev eyed Svephraey and The Kharu-Natjer disdainfully. “-they do.”

Malkev tighten his blanket as he finished his speech. There was a proudness to his words. Perhaps a hint of nobility.

The Kharu-Natjer took another sip of wine before placing the unfinished glass on a small table near the sofa. Oddly, Malkev jumped from his seat the moment the glass touched table. Almost as if he’d been shocked. The man looked to his seat confused, and then eyed the Kharu-Natjer suspiciously. Cautiously, he returned to his seat.

“We each have our reasons for wanting the Cult gone." The Kharu-Natjer said. "Svephraey’s trade cannot flourish under the Cult’s influence.”

“And you?” Chres asked.

“Me?” The Kharu-Natjer said. He grabbed his glass from the table and raised it to his face. “I seek to end them. To send its kind back from whence it came." The strange man watched the black flames of the fire as the nearby slave tossed more wood into its distorted blaze. His gaze seemed distant as if his stare went beyond the flames and into a place unknown.

There was a moment of silence. The only noise being the trickle from the chamber's steady stream of water, and the playful splashes of a certain fairy shaped familiar. She laughed happily in the background shouting, "Puddle! Puddle! Puddle! Puddle! Puddle!" Most of the room ignored Sil's delight. Talon, however, did not. He eyed Sil with disgust. His own talons tightening on his perch.

Moments later, the Kharu-Natjer downed the rest of his wine. One of the female slaves immediately went to his side, allowing him to discard the glass upon her tray. "I've answered your questions." He said. "It is only fair you answer mine." He turned to face the group. "It seems to me that escaping the cult, the day prior, would have taken a certain level of sanity. How is it that you managed to avoid the madness that struck the rest of the town?"

Chres looked to the chamber filled with crystal jade candles. "The same way as you, I would imagine." He said.

The Kharu-Natjer merely smiled "Oooh no no no. You misunderstand. I was not speaking of the Crystal Jade candles, but rather how you came to know of them."

Chres narrowed his eyes. His mind darted to the mystery man who visited them the night before chaos struck. "The same way as you." Chres repeated more firmly.

The man's smile simply widened. "Your assumption speaks volumes." He said snidely. "No, my friend. The same it assuredly was not..." Chres's eyes narrowed further.

The Kharu-Natjer clapped his hands together. "Friends!" He said to Malkev and Svephraey. "It seems we have found the missing piece of knowledge we needed to kill the seed." The two looked to the Kharu-Natjer curiously. "Tell us, then. What information did the Being of Many Names provide?"


Chres and the rest left the underground chamber some time later. The weapons returned the moment they left the premises. The Innkeeper was waiting for them outside. He said nothing as he joined the group. Whatever they did seemed to have freaked out him out.

"Never again..." The Innkeeper muttered.

The Being of Many Names. That was the name the Kharu-Natjer gave the mystery man. Other than that, he refuse to say more. He would reach out to them all again, he had said, to plan for an attack.

Chres wasn't sure how he felt about the people he met there. At the very least Malkev seemed to have some moral standing. The others though...

"Did you see the size of that puddle?" Sil asked excitedly to Lynx. "Next time we go, let's play in the puddle together! We can go splash that ugly chicken and show him who's boss!"

Chres looked to Sil and smiled. In all honesty, he felt her innocence was a relief after their encounter with the Kharu-Natjer. The encounter was unnerving to say the least.

"Tell me,-" Chres addressed the group. "-what did you all make of those three?"

@13org

---

"STOP CALLING US THAT!" Tayla yelled. "We are not a cult!" Tayla lowered her head and bared her teeth. "What we are... is a family..." Two more tears streamed down her cheeks.

This woman... She pretended to know what kind of person Tayla was. She acted as if she knew what kind of people her clansmen were. In truth, she knew nothing.

Tayla calmed her breathing, and turned her gaze upwards and stared down those penetrating green eyes. "Right? Don't talk to me about what's right. Those people you killed over there,-" She said nodding over to the three dead cultists, "perhaps some of them were my friends. How come you didn't offer them a chance to spare their lives? Do you think that's right?"

Tayla didn't wait for an answer. Instead she continued on. "The king to the nation of Sight is weak and unable to defend his lands. His people die by the Empire's hands while he hides away in his palace, eating the food they harvested. Tell me, is that right? No. Of course it's not. Though he's not the worst of the lot. Tayla's eyes darkened at the words. "Let's talk about the Nation of Touch."

Tayla stared up in Karina's cold eyes. "The Nation of Touch started this war. The Clan wouldn't even be here if it weren't for them. Tell, what reason did they have to start this war? What threat did the Nation of Sight pose to their Empire? They burn down the people's fields, steal their food, ravage the cities they conquer. In their army's wake, poverty, hunger, sickness."

Tayla shook her head. "If you want to talk about what's right, let's talk about them. You see, what's right doesn't matter when the powers that be do not care."

@Fetzen

---

Damn it, Tayla! Smit thought has he ran up the stairs. The climb burned at his legs, but he refused to stop. What is she doing fighting alone like that?

Smit looked up, a giant of a man blocked his path. His anxiety heightened. The enemy moving on was not a good sign.

Smit's eyes widened. The man had a crossbow. Smit quickly slammed his body to the side, hugging the nearby wall. He reached into his pouch to grab a ball of pollen.

---

Týfurkh had mentioned towards Karina that he had wanted to check the situation below, but he honestly had not anticipated for it to creep up towards him that early... The staircase was straightforward, allowing the two men to see each other from a bit of a distance away already.

The giant pulled up his crossbow and tried to get an aim, but the walls were not perfectly even. Hugging them provided a significant amount of cover and Týfurkh was very well aware of the fact that shooting now and missing would not allow him enough time to reload if the man at the other end was fast enough to get up to his position.

Slowly Týfurkh took a few steps downwards, his hulking frame causing enough noise for anybody to listen to even while not maintaining direct visual contact. He had to try and get a clear view onto Smit in order to shoot him.

---

Damn. Smit thought. He had hoped the man would take the shot. He needed to distract him. Smit threw the ball of pollen at the man's face. He then reached in to his other pouch and grabbed a handful of dust sand. He dashed forward as the pollen exploded, on impact, and spread into the air. He pulled out a knife in his spare hand.

---

Týfurkh's nose reacted near instantaneously. Pollen really was not the correct way against the Art of Canor, but it certainly was against proper breathing. The giant's sneezing echoed through the halls of the staircase, betraying the fact that Smit's distraction was working. Týfurkh lost what aim he had had and tried to regain it, which was somewhat difficult since he couldn't see Smit clearly behind the rough outline of the wall. He stepped closer and closer, still rubbing his nose with the back of his hand while holding the huge crossbow in the other.

---

The gap between Smit and the giant. It appeared his distraction worked... However...

Smit released the dust sand into the air, shielding his eyes with his newly freed hand. It didn't block out all the dust sand, but it was enough to not be detrimental. He knew he couldn't fight this guy. Running would be better.

Turning his body sideways, Smit passed between an opening between the giant and the wall. Perfect Smit thought, smiling at how well things worked out. Now, just to be sure... Smit kicked the giant man in the back of his knee. Wouldn't want to be him right now. Smit thought as he continued his climb up the stairs.

---

Octavio sighed, as if the doors to his mind were creaking open from someone opening the floodgates once more. "That woman was certainly interesting. Under normal circumstances I'd consider her behavior ridiculous, but if our past exploits are anything to go by, ridiculous is synonymous with dangerous." His eyes looked at no one in particular, as if he were still talking to Lynx alone. Lynx arched his head towards the humans, eager to pitch in his own ideas.

"She's the one we know the least about, so we must absolutely be cautious of her." It felt strange to engage in conversation with people outside of Octavio, but knew that forcing himself to do so would be the quickest way to gain their respect. Octavio looked at him oddly, not having expected a response from him, but brushed him off the same.

"Caution?" the words came out of Octavio steeped in disapproval. "Don't you want to do the opposite and have a better idea as to who we're meddling with here?" He felt himself entering the start of a long bickering match with his familiar, one of many they typically had, and forcefully stopped himself to save face in front of the others. Lynx followed suit, but not without getting some final words in.

"These are our lives that are being toyed with. You must be more careful when considering a course of action such as that."

Octavio turned to the others, still discontent. "Well, aside from that, when viewing them as a whole... it's interesting that they know the being of many names. It makes him an even more intimidating character now, honestly." His coy smile showed the face of someone who was impressed.