Tessa looked up from the vice that she had clamped to the bar table. Within the grip of the vice was a magic crystal, delicately filigreed with precious metals, embedded with rare gems, and engraved with runic symbols. Her hands held an assortment of tools. She had been quite busy before the depressing topic of her party mates brought her out of her focus. She slid the magnifying glass setup away from her face to look at Graves. Death was on everyone's mind, but after the initial panic that Tessa had experienced in the dungeon, a cathartic, nihilistic sense of calm had descended upon her.

"'What do we do next?', you ask. We continue to make a killing, that's what we do. People have been so afraid, that demand for defensive enchantments have far exceeded supply. Prices are skyrocketing. Business has never been this good. By the time this bug is patched out, we'll be filthy rich." Perhaps seeing a man in the throes of death was disconcerting for some, but for Tessa, it had had the opposite affect. In real life, she had always felt a sense of dysphoria and disassociation from her body, even more so in the digital realm. But actually seeing someone die made her realize that it was the clinging to life that was the source of terror and pain, that after a swift and maddening explosion of suffering, all that followed death was calm and stillness. Death was inevitable and inescapable, but the fear of it was so easy to exploit. And that was what Tessa had been doing since.

"If you're getting restless, we could try to grind a low-level dungeon. Most people are so scared that we probably won't find much competition. We can farm some low-tier materials, because people will still pay out of the nose, even for C-class enchantments." Regardless of his answer, he could tell he wanted to go after Rael, so she also got up and began packing up her enchanting station.

---

Alex paused before continuing their conversation. Oh, she´s one of those roleplayers. It was something he´d never been interested in, though he was more or less familiar with the basics from seeing the cringe-inducing displays of knighthood that his brother and his friends engaged in. His brother, who was now stuck in the same game as him and most likely in some horrific and dangerous area surrounded by tryhards of the same skill level as his obsessive self. Fuck.

He pushed those thoughts back. "Don´t sweat it, playing this game means I get used to this kind of stuff. Not that I´m any good at it myself."

His back slouched. "Right, staying strong."

It was hard to stay strong in a world that was getting scarier by the minute. Camping inside of a claustrophobic village wasn´t going to cut it any more for Alex, and taking his frustration out on woodworking wasn´t going to change the fact he was stuck here and very much in danger. People were getting stronger than him every passing moment, and whether he liked it or not he was going to have to step out into the wild and face the very real possibility of dying.

He held his hand out for a fist bump, which he corrected into a handshake. It was hard to pay attention to a conversation when you were briefly coming to terms with your mortality. "My name´s Alex. I´ve just been screwing around this place for awhile, but things are getting crowded so I´m thinking about setting out." She looked like someone who would make a good teammate, if her introduction was anything to go by. There was, however, something she said that had caught his attention.

"Skeleton... lady?" He made no effort to hide his awe.

@ComradeMaxx @Kuro @HokumPocus

"Well, staying in town and starving is a form of death in its own right," Tessa disagreed with Graves, alluding to the slow collective realization that the players were beginning to actually experience hunger and thirst. Though no one had died from malnutrition just yet, the dawning lack of resources weighed on the minds of those who looked just a little further ahead. There wasn't enough in their little 'safe haven' to go around, and everyone just hoped other people would risk their necks to plunge the dungeons and haul in large quantities of sustenance; as if they wouldn't just hoard it all to themselves. Tessa had read enough Chinese history to know that desperation, and cannibalism at worst, were just around the corner.

But, deciding not to be more contrarian than she already was and alienating one of the few other players who actually tolerated her existence, Tessa followed the direction of his new topic of discussion. She scanned left and right for the red-headed spearwoman. "Shit. Hell if I know." Tessa was usually quite good at picking out the flow of foot traffic, but Rael had never been that predictable. "I swear, next set of enchantments I give her is gonna include tracking runes."

Seeing a pair of people on the street nearby, she decided to just probe them for answers. Marching over, Tessa interrupted, "Hey, you two! Did you see a spearwoman? Kinda short with long red hair? Dumb grin?" It wasn't the best, nor most flattering description, but Tessa had run out of patience, of which she had very little to begin with.

Tiferet's sandals crunched along a well-traveled dirt path, their owner staying alert for any opportunistic mobs. The road she was on was normally well-traveled, being one of the main roads in and out of Thorinn, but at the moment she was the only person walking it. It was, ironically, a rather nice day out, with puffy clouds scudding across the sky and a light breeze keeping her cool, and on any other occasion Tif might have let herself relax and enjoy the weather, maybe play a tune on her fiddle to pass the time. Instead, constant vigilance was the name of the game, even as her thoughts turned introspective.

A few days after the party had finally taken care of the dungeon outside Thorinn, which was beginning to become known as The Unknowable Labyrinth among the Wayfarers, Tif had decided that she needed some time to herself for a while, and told the others as much before heading out of town. She had felt like she needed to get out there and do something, even if it was just wandering around outside Thorinn and moping. Of course, it ended up not just being that; she'd ended up gathering a few herbs and such to sell later, and once she found another player getting attacked by a couple of treants. The two of them had been able to fight them off, thankfully, and the other player had given her some money before quickly departing for Thorinn. So her wandering had at least been fruitful.

She had stuck around for Vulcan's makeshift funeral, though. Sure, she'd barely known the guy, but it still wouldn't have felt right to have cut and run beforehand. She had seen it happen, and she felt like it was her responsibility to help lay him to rest, such as it was. It had also, oddly enough, been her first time seeing something die in front of her. And that, too, made her feel like she had to stay. See things to their natural conclusion, as it were.

Back in the present, Tiferet sighed deeply. Thinking about Vulcan brought her back to what had been the main topic of her little sabbatical: her interest in death, and the way she displayed it in her appearance. After seeing Vulcan get murdered, and nearly dying herself (the thought of which caused a weird little thrill in her chest, even as an echo of the terror she had felt then flickered back to life), she was starting to really question why she was so interested in the idea of dying. Was it just a simple thirst for knowledge, like she had told everyone, or was it some kind of weird, sourceless suicidal ideation? And given that she had seen what was left of Vulcan's body after the frost demon was done with it, what did it say about her, as a person, that she could see the aftermath of something like that and still feel an attraction towards death? Or, indeed, that she still felt generally optimistic about things? People dying was supposed to make you feel bad, right?

So why, then, did she still feel good?

Tiferet's navel-gazing was interrupted as the path slowly transitioned from dirt to patchy cobblestone, gradually growing more cohesive as it approached Thorinn. At that, her thoughts turned towards the more immediate and practical problem: her clothes and makeup. People probably ain't gonna like someone wearin' a buncha skulls, with everything that's going on. Then again, the few people I've seen out here didn't really give much of a shit...

She hemmed and hawed for a bit longer before deciding to just get over it and go inside. If people didn't like her appearance that much, she'd change her clothes and do away with the makeup later. That settled, she resumed walking towards Thorinn. Maybe she could meet up with some of her party members, get caught up on what's been happening. For now, though, she just wanted to be back around people. She needed a distraction from herself.

---

The streets of Thorinn were, if anything, even more packed than usual. All the Wayfarers that had been near town were crammed into it, so many that the inns were beginning to overflow. Tif had to step over a spot someone had staked out more than once as she headed for the tavern that she was pretty sure everyone was still holed up in. The overall energy in the streets of Thorinn was a nervous one, with undertones of something bubbling under the surface, the latent frustration that came with having no answers, nowhere to go, and entirely too many people in the same place at the same time. Thorinn wasn't a very friendly place to be at the moment, but it was friendlier than the outside world.

As Tif passed the Wayfarer's Hall, she overheard a couple of players a bit down the street from her talking about a "skeleton lady". Tif smiled mischievously. This was bound to make her feel better.

Using the crowd to hide her approach, she maneuvered herself right behind one of her victims, a girl in a green cape, before speaking right in her ear. "I'm curious, what have people been sayin' about me? Nothing too damning, I hope~."

She had just enough time to have a good laugh at the girl's reaction before a very recognizable suit of armor clanked towards her. Tiferet turned towards her old party member with a grin, spreading her arms wide. "Tessa! Long time no see! How've y'all been?"

@ComradeMaxx @Kuro @HokumPocus @Altered Tundra @Tojin

Tessa turned to face Verglas Zero. She stared at him for a moment expectantly, wearing a face of obvious impatience. "And?! Did you see what direction she went?" Tessa blurted. Simply informing her and Graves that he had bumped into Rael did little to help them find her, and his pleasantries only delayed things. But a familiar voice brought Tessa out of her grilling. She turned to see Tiferet, which brought a sense of joy and relief, though she tried her best not to let it show. "Tif! It's been a while. Is it easy re-specc'ing into necromancer?" she joked, somewhat callously, "You haven't seen Rael, have you? She got antsy and walked out on me and Graves. Party's small enough as it is, so I'm glad you're back."

Her gaze wandered to Alex and Eaudenil, and immediately flitted away; she no longer needed them to provide information, since Zero was now her lead, so she promptly ignored them and turned her attention back to Zero. "Well?"

---

Alex was at a loss for words at the small gathering that had formed around what had just been him and Eaudenil. When he came up with the design for his outfit, he had played it safe and just decided to model it off whatever the rich NPCs wore, with some adjustments here and there for comfort and utility. He didn´t know a lot about roleplaying or looking like a warrior, so he had just assumed that dressing well was just looking like you were loaded as opposed to strutting around in generic peasant clothes.

All it took was one look at the other, more confident players to prove him wrong. From the intricate and morbid outfit a player called Tif wore to the brutal armor of the one who had referred to her as such, Alex suddenly felt a whole lot smaller than before. Even Verglas, who was going for the same shtick as him, managed to overshadow Alex with the booming voice of someone you´d actually think was nobility. The outlier of the group had been Tessa, who made Alex think she was trapped in the wrong game. He was especially jealous of her though, as he felt she was in the same boat as him in terms of not caring about roleplaying, if her potty mouth was anything to go by.

“Can´t say I´ve seen anyone like that, sorry guys,” he said, cupping his chin in thought. It was awkward to be in the middle of a reunion full of people you didn´t know, so he had fallen back on mentally retracing his steps. "Wait..."

His eyes narrowed and looked at Eaudenil. “You were shoved to the ground right? Could it have been the chick they´re talking about?”

---

The sudden question coming from the warrior sent a shockwave through Alex's body. Looking for people to band together with had been his number one priority up to this point, so he should have by all means felt relieved at having taken care of his most important dilemma. Instead, he only felt even more restless. Was this what his brother felt throughout his years of live action roleplaying and tabletop sessions? His breaths felt sharper and his mind felt clearer, like he was getting ready to take on something big. The road ahead would be dangerous and possibly fatal, but something about being surrounded by others who would lend him a helping hand made the idea seem a lot more doable.

He'd just have to keep those dark thoughts at bay and let his more impulsive side out. It's what got him this far, at least.

"Sure dude!"

Wait, would a guy like him take roleplaying seriously? He was talking pretty normally to his friends, so he was probably cool with it.

"I mean man. Sir?"

Alex's unleashed his signature idiotic grin, and then aimed it at Eaudenil. "You're gonna join too, right?" Despite only having met her for a brief moment, there was something about Eaudenil's hope and dedication towards embodying her character that he liked. It reminded him of his brother, in a way.