Tristan couldn't lie, watching Charlotte suffer a repeated face full of pepper spray from the small vampire girl had to be the most satisfying thing he had seen in the last century at least. Maybe even two centuries. Having to sit through that last world at the bottom floor of a deep dungeon as a vending machine was the most boring life he had been through yet, but it made every short interaction feel like a gift from god. This though? This put a smile on his face. Hell, he actually broke into a fit of laughter at his companion's expense. Perhaps Nimoa reminded him of a daughter he had in another world or maybe her child-like innocence had broken through the cold shell he'd wrapped his heart in, but she had managed to break through and make the hero experience the greatest moment of happiness he could recall.

Needless to say, he wanted to keep her around. Even if they were probably going to be headed into an endgame area after only just getting through the tutorial.

When C-3 chose to slink off in search of rocky sweets, Tristan would watch the slime dart off the beaten path to wherever her non-existent nose led her. He didn't care too much. The chances of her choosing to not come back seemed slim to him and even if she did choose to go independent, she wasn't his to dictate orders to. Technically, Charlotte was still the only one officially registered as a party member on his HUD.

The pace of the journey to the Lichyard was one that even a child could keep up with. Well, a super-powered child, admittedly. It had taken half a day's hike, a night's rest, and a morning's journey for them to reach the graveyard in question, the very air itself thick with a pungent miasma that made the air feel humid and foul, as if the very ground around them was cursed. Probably because it was. Nimoa's tiny wings would flap in excitement, eyes shining as she looked at it. "I've never seen a real live lich before...do you think they're smelly? Or maybe they smell like embalming fluid? Or maybe they eat spices to make their bones smell nice?"

Charlotte thought about that for a moment, before noticing C-3's rapid departure. "H-Hey! C-3!? Wait up!" the demon princess would call out, dashing after her bestie to try and see where the hell she was actually GOING. She was able to keep pace with C-3 up until she found her foot snagged on a gnarled root, causing her to fall and skid against the ground for a solid thirty or so feet. Getting up, she would wince and rub her chin. She was durable, but still...ow. C-3's newly gained headstart would mean that Charlotte would only find her after she'd received her gift. Putting her hands on her hips, Charlotte was getting ready to scold C-3 for robbing someone's offerings, but saw just how happy she was munching on that metal. She'd only ever seen her core glow that bright after she'd managed to steal a pure ruby while they were on the road for her to eat.

Charlotte chuckled behind C-3, beaming. "What'd you run off for? We've got to clear that vampire brat's little side-quest to get the hero moving to the REAL quest. Did you smell something nice?"

Unbeknownst to C-3 or Charlotte, a slight rattle of bones would vanish from the scene, out of earshot...

---

Nimoa would watch as Charlotte and C-3 ran off, looking a bit perturbed. "...Will they be okay on their own?" she questioned as she watched them go, before a hacking cough echoed out from a nearby building on the Lichyard. The "houses" that were here resembled grand mausoleums, with grand brass braziers that had long since stained green from rain carrying violet flames that didn't sway in the wind. Powerful magic echoed from this place...and powerful coughs that continued to echo from the nearest Housoleum. Nimoa would gulp, timidly stepping forward to knock upon the door.

What would answer would be a mockery upon life itself, the very air around the being darkening as Nimoa's eyes focused upon it, the fine fabrics enshrouding the skeletal figure were adorned with grand magical items, gems containing powers unbeknownst to mortal minds and...

"KITTY!" Nimoa squealed, taking note of literally none of that, instead focused on the lich's apparent familiar in the form of a cat made out of darkness itself. Shaking her head and slapping her own cheeks, Nimoa would look up at the skeleton man that was staring at her, eyeless skull unflinching as it rasped, the very air shuddering as it escaped the most horrifying type of spellcaster known to all the realm.

"Hi, My name is Nimoa, and I was wondering if-"

"We don't buy girl scout cookies."

"I-I'm not a girl scout, I'm just trying to-

"No timeshares either!

"What? No, I'm not trying to sell you anythi-"

"GET OFF MY LAWN!" the lich would yell, not at Nimoa, but at a racoon that was making off with what looked to be a half-animated dead fish that flopped and gasped as it was dragged off. Running out of his home with a pair of pink fuzzy slippers on, the lich would pull out his staff and begin casting an unknown beam type of spell, that seemingly rotted whatever it touched, judging from how the already sickly looking patches of grass just outright blackened, withering to ash. GO ON! GET, YOU VARMINT!" The lich would screech as the raccoon got away, leaving the lich with naught to do but sigh and return to his doorway.

"Where was I...oh yeah, we don't buy girl scout cookies. No stomach to put them in." the lich said, before coughing heavily.

"I'M JUST LOOKING FOR AN ALCHEMIST!" Nimoa would eventually shout, fed up with being half-listened to.

"Oh. Why didn't you just say so!? Grimsby down the block, third building after you turn left." The lich would say, helpfully pointing out the direction of said alchemist, before turning his back and heading back inside. The lawn now looked like an arcane war had been waged upon it, with Tristan and Valkira barely missed by any shots.

...Senile liches were terrifying. Perhaps moreso than fully sane ones.

Tristan would do his best answering Nimoa's questions on liches. Over his countless lifetimes and reincarnations, he had the unfortunate experience of playing both roles, as the one attempting to kill the undead creature and the one acting as the lord of death. If anything, he probably knew more about liches than most other liches knew about themselves.

Upon entering the graveyard, the hero's nose would be assaulted by the stench of death and decay. This wasn't the kind you would find on a battlefield. This was an old rot, the smell of bodies long left to the maggots and worms, most picked clean of any remaining flesh and innards. Whether fresh or ancient though, Tristan knew the smell well. They were certainly in the right place.

While the young vampire would be shaking in her boots, the hero strode confidently beside her. Were they vastly under leveled if the source of that hacking cough turned out to be hostile? Yes, he was quite sure they were, but after an unaccountable number of lives, one learned to never fear death, merely to be cautious of it's presence. "Nimoa, if this lich proves to be unfriendly, I want you to-" he began to say, before the lord of death reared his skeletal face out from his crypt.

Tristan couldn't help but cock an eyebrow at the lich's appearance. Of course, he couldn't say he looked threatening at every point of the day back when he had been one as well, but this one didn't even seem to be trying anymore. His brain must have been the first thing to go rotten.

And then the staff came out. While he certainly wasn't trying to aim for the two of them, the lich wasn't exactly trying to avoid firing his spell at them either. Luckily, Nimoa's small stature would keep her from harm and the hero would be able to lean back far enough for the blast to stop just inches away from his face.

With the information they needed attained, Tristan would hurry in getting his young companion moving before the senile skeleton fired off another spell. "Let's hurry along now, Nimoa."

Then the chimera attacked. In a split second, Regalia launched herself at Nimoa's defenseless rear, sinking its teeth in and combusting into a ball of fire and lightning. "Not you again! Get out of here, you flea-ridden furball!" Tristan shouted in anger. Like an abusive owner to their mistreated pet, the hero pulled back his leg and launched it toward the chimera pup, kicking her right in the stomach in the hopes that the impact would launch her away from the vampire girl. He didn't care how young or cute the creature was, his steel-toed boots were rated E for everyone.

@Enkryption

@Guess Who,@Suku

"Stupid! Absolutely careless idiot! What a fucking hero I am," Tristan berated himself. It had been a long time since he actually bothered concerning himself over the safety of another being and it seemed those centuries had made him rusty at this hero thing. You wanted him to risk sacrificing his soul to eternal damnation in an insane death game, he'd do so with a shrug. You wanted him to stare down the physical manifestation of death, he'd do it with a yawn. You wanted him to protect the innocent and do good for the sake of it being the right thing to do, well you would need to give him time to shake off the rust.

Unfortunately, he didn't have the luxury. "Sorry fleabag, I may have been the one to mess up, but it looks like you'll be the one to suffer the beating," the unheroic hero threatened, drawing his sword just before a newcomer interrupted the fight. He understood he was the chosen one, but he couldn't fathom why he seemed to attract so many morons and lunatics, especially in this world in particular. "Your pet attacked us first. Put a leash on that mutt and leave us alone."

Suddenly, the abused beast began to change its shape like an [copyright infringement] crawling out of the mud underneath the tower of [copyright infringement] in that film with the two towers. "Ah, great. Now it's a person," Tristan said with a sigh. "A chimera that shapeshifts into a human... what is that 25 now? 24? Fine, I'll give the benefit of the doubt and say you're 24."

Noticing the way she clutched at her belly and growled at him, Tristan growled back, "Yeah, and I'll give you another if you hurt her again." That seemed to be the final straw as Regalia made her attack, launching bolts of lightening his way as if he were the most conductive thing around. Considering his choice in armor actually, he probably was. Regardless, the hero threw his shield in the chimera's direction like an Olympic athlete tossing a discus, while at the same time he ducked down to grab Nimoa and hurl her out of the direct line of fire.