@Jollan@Lotrix Molick
Anrak sighed as Kistal settled down next to him at the fireside and asked a question he dreaded answering. Granted, the massive man had expected such a question not to be delayed for long, but nonetheless it did little to ease the tense knot in his stomach (lowest of the four, to be specific.)

After a long moment of silence Anrak finally spoke; making certain the doctor nor the chief could hear his words before he spoke, "Drinkin'. Fuckin. Killin..... Them's tha onleh three things aye been good fer since aye lost me mum as a wee lad--" his tone was stern, yet steeped in regret as he removed his helmet and slowly turn. "Didn't 'ave ah tribe tah turn to neither. Ma was exiled from their city fer not killin meh tha moment aye was born. Turns out taurs' hate half-breeds just as much; if not more n' humans do."

Sticking to just basics rather than go into detail, Anrak shifted his weight as he continued his story, "Tha only people that'd even consider helpin meh were the kinda folk who could make use ah me 'talents'. Fell in with tha wrong crowd-- one thing led to another over tha years, and by some strange miracle-- this here book near fell into meh hands... Hell if aye unnerstand why, n' I doubt aye ever will, but despite all aye done; things that'd make ma roll over in her grave. The Godess saved me life."

Now laying on his back, Anrak held the Steel Bible between his hands, as if contrasting it to the unseen heavens above, "Fer once, aye feel like aye got uh purpose beyond just survivin, drinkin, n' killin. Don't get meh wrong, I'm plannin tah return tha book, but... Part uh meh hopes that by tha time im readeh tah part ways with it... Aye might just be wortheh enough tah keep it."

Sitting up, he held the book out in an exteneded hand to Kistal "But-- aye suppose errythin' happens fer a reason... Includin' us meetin here. So, if you really think ets that big a deal that aye got this... It's yours tah return, and I won't never be a problem fer nobodeh ever again."

"M-my... best clothes...r-right, heh...," Hilde repsponded thinking about what she owned as she returned Chihiro's embrace. She wouldn't say any of her clothes were bad per say. But having not growing up wanting to be a dancer, Hilde never thought to buy anything other than plain clothes, something light and easy to work in, or something that could still be flattering, but nothing ever as special or flashy like the girls being taught by Madame Valia. For Hilde, her armor was her 'best clothes'. She kept it clean and maintained, and there was a lot of work put into the armor and cloth adornments. That would be enough to impress a noble, wouldn't it? "Anyway, we should probably do as the chief says and get some rest, morning will be here before we know it," she said hastily changing the subject as she laid out two bedrolls from her storage compartment of her light skiff. "I had brought an extra, in case you needed one, I didn't see you with one when you left," Hilde stated as she tossed the other bedroll to Chihiro.

Hilde then started to roll out her own bedroll, making sure it was set before she started getting out of her armor. She first took her sword and laid it by her bedding, the chest-piece, single gauntlet and greaves, waist pieces that covered the side of hip and pper thighs, and setting any adornments like her cape to the side. What was left was a black and white, close fitting jumper like garment that ended in about short shorts length, laced up in the front the bottom up to the chest, and was sleeveless,completely covered p to the neck. She had finger-less gloves that went up to her biceps and thigh high leggings. Her body, had signs of strong muscle underneath, like most varuk, it was toned due to the work she applied herself to. However, as athletic and tone as she was, she still had quite a feminine curve about her that was only made more obvious as she sat at her bedroll and stretched, sitting cross-legged for a moment as she arched her back with her hands clasped and stretched into the air as well, unthinkingly accentuating her chest before laying on her side with a satisfied sigh to face Chihiro. "I love my armor but it feels nice to ditch the heavy plates at the end of the day," she said with a smile. And it was no joke either, the varuk, when they did make armor, made armor that their body would be able to support, meaning thick heavy pieces of metal much thicker than the plate armor most humans wore into battle. Due to a Varuk's heavier frame and muscle density, It was normally no problem to wear such heavy armor if it was desired, though they usually preferred mobility, which was reflected in Hilde's barebaones set of armor. Heavy plates, but only where needed.

"G'night Chihiro," she said happily as she somewhat curled her legs in and closed her eyes to try to get to rest as soon as possible.

Allanon couldn't help but shake the feeling that he was being watched the whole time he was outside, though if he were t have looked around, there would be no sign of enemies nearby. Not to mention, when he returned into the cave, the sensation was gone. From his position, he could easily see most the scout party as they settled down as well, Bidzil seeming to just relax in the sand instead of most who were on a tin bedroll for traveling. He was dead to the world and sleeping like a log. Any with a strong sense in mana flow would notice that whatever increase in power or mana they were taking in, seemed to subside, though whether if they noticed it happened the more Bidzil drifted into his slumber or not had remained to be seen.

-hours into the night, everyone is asleep, save for one insomniac satyr-

They had to all be asleep by now, right? Maybe if she could just take a peek... A half wolf beastman with blue fur slowly crept inside of the cave, the sand on her wide paws making virtually no sound as she wove through the camp. She knows she smelled something to eat in here, but where? There was that giant wyrm a ways outside, but after a part of it had been picked at by another wyrm, there was only some scraps left, and whatever smell she had picked up from here, not knowing about Anrak cooking the meat or that it was the smell she picked up on earlier, but she had to trace the source. She could see that there was one of this odd pack still awake, keeping an eye over the others. She did her best to avoid him and his detection. She would find a bag here and there, and pick up the scent of some food, but it was always dry or some brittle flat crunchy thing. Or an odd yellowish wedge, which she did happen to pilfer one next to some red coated individual. These creatures' fur was so strange, and some had these shell like things, but unlike a turtle it didn't seem like they could hide in them. She pondered if they were like the armored sand wolves in the region over the mountains. Creepy devils, their tails were funny as well, she didn't like it.

Eventually, she found herself creeping closer to where the fire was, she sniffed around, the scent being strongest around here, meaning the food had to be here somewhere...

Chihiro couldn't help but watch the half-Varuk woman get ready for bed. Many would find such a simple thing boring, but the naga was less interested in the actions and more in seeing the young woman she knew from birth. With a smile, she caught the bedroll and laid it out close to Hilde's. Chihiro then stretched out and polymorphed her clothing to leave her barefoot and in a long silver silky night gown, albeit one that was short and only reached mid thigh. Her hair lost the tie, leaving it to flow wild and free, cascading down her shoulders and chest. Unlike Hilde, Chihiro's muscles were harder to see. One could see she was fit and athletic, but she had a body type more suited to a seductress, harboring relatively wide hips and an ample bosom. Underneath her soft skin and curves was a veritable wall of muscle.

She curled up on her bedroll, facing to the cave entrance out of habit and keeping her back tight up against the wall.

While Anrak explained, Kistal was silent. He nodded occasionally, giving his goatee a rub in thought, seeming to gauge the words and actions of the half-minotaur. Once the book was held out, he did take it, looking at its condition and finding it well used but cared for. There was nothing to suggest foul play. He offered the book back to Anrak after inspecting it. "Keep it. It is helping you and you are being forthcoming. I hav eno reason to distrust you. If anyone causes you trouble, I will help set them right."

He nodded to the other man. "I have seen my fair share of false accusations and assumptions. That is why I pressed to be told by you rather than let others speak for you. Good to have you here. I look forward to seeing what we can do." He sniffed the air casually and then gave a teasing smirk to the half-beastman. "Your meat is about to burn."

That night:

Kistal found Nix's stealth and care impressive and entertaining, but she didn't his presence in a secluded corner of the cave. He watched her from the darkness, his nose, eyes, and ears drinking in every detail to determine her intentions. She only wanted food. She did nothing to his comrades. So, the satyr silently snuck up behind the half-beastwoman, grabbing his sweets bag along the way, and laid a large hand on the top of her head between her ears. Before she could bite or bolt, he dangled the bag in front of her to let her smell the sweets.

His words were a whisper, trying not to alert or wake his comrades. "Can you understand me, wolf girl?"

Allanon's sleep was restless and nightmare filled. While he slept silently there were several times during the past couple hours he woke up. Each time he woke up alert for a few moments while scanning the space with his eyes. He could see the silhouette of Kistal in his vigilant watch every time. The sixth or seventh time he stirred from his sleep, Allanon noticed Kistal had moved from his assumed post. Allanon slowly moved tightened his grip over the handle of his sword as he searched for the beastman's silhouette.

After a few moments of searching, he heard a whisper and his eyes honed in where it came from, and once again he found the silhouette of Kistal and.... another. He remained silent watching and waiting for any problems to start. The odds this stranger was a Calabris agent was quite small. The information network of the Calabris family was strong, but the odds it knew anything of the location of this raid would require magical divination he was certain they did not have. Diviners were a rare breed of magic-user after all requiring unique inclinations that often required Grusk heritage.

If no one was harmed by this point, the odds were their visitor was no threat. Even so, one could never be too careful, so he remained silent and vigilant.

When Eduard laid down to go to sleep, he grabbed a book he had brought with him. It was a romance novel he had been reading for some weeks now. Every once in a while when he had some free time, Eduard liked to dedicate himself to reading. He would either review medical texts or catch up with his favorite novels. Usually, he enjoyed fictional novels. Stories depicting heroes who were larger than life saving the world and getting the girl at the end. Or, mighty gods fighting for supremacy. Of course, some might consider these to be childish entertainment. But, for Eduard it was a good and simple way to pass the time. He rather enjoyed the predictable endings and character archetypes. However, every once in a while he liked to sit down and read a love story. Some of them were awfully predictable and cheesy. Full of clichéd lines and predictable plots. But, somehow Eduard always found them amusing. A few months ago, Eduard had 'befriended' a local author in Portea. The two became friends after Eduard saved his brother after being bitten by a poisonous spider. Before Eduard left Portea, the author and him spent a few nights together. Before he left, the author handed him a copy of his newest work. A novel about two noble young men who had fallen for each other. It was a tale of forbidden love filled with tragedy and political intrigue.

Once Eduard had settled down, he picked up the novel and started reading. However, it wasn't long before he drifted off to sleep. The journey to Kalla and the encounter with the sand wyrm had worn out the old doctor. Eduard woke up some time later. He was in the middle of a dream, imagining him and the tailor sitting on the porch of his estate. The two were drinking and laughing together. Eduard sighed, rubbing his eyes. What a childish fantasy. It was like he was in college again. Dreaming of your crush. The doctor scoffed and looked around, seeing if it was something or someone that had waked him. That is when he decided to take a look inside one of his bags. He stumbled upon a not-so-pleasant surprise. The snacks he had brought along for the journey were gone. In fact, someone had gone specifically into his bag to grab a few pieces of cheese and crackers. Could it had been an animal? Probably. No one in the group seemed like the type to raid someone's bags for food. And less at this hour.

Eduard grabbed his sword and stood up, his knees popping as he did. He stretched and scanned the cave again. All he saw were some of the other group members who were still asleep and the fire still going strong. Eduard slowly made his way toward the fire, scanning the cave for any signs of an intruder.

Three hours have passed since they started working on Allard, with Neev still running back and forth to other patients as well, and sometimes dragging Maeve along to cast a spell here or there. There was a pile of bloodied gloves in a waste bin, over half of which used by Neev as she operated on different people manually instead of with magic. Allard had fallen asleep, despite being surgically worked on at the same time. As for Aerex, Neev did not seem to pay any mind to him being a Grusk, for her, he was another person wounded by the attack. She heard the stories about grusk growing up. She had also seen how beastmen and half beasmen were treated, it was much like the grusk. A bitterness between the so called 'enlightened races' and the beastmen had stemmed from long ago back when the beastmen warred for territories even between their own tribes. Half beastmen were caught in the middle, rejected by both. It wasn't as much of a problem nowadays, save for in Portea, but as far as Neev was concerned, evil would always be evil, that the person's origin wasn't a factor, it merely decided who those with a wicked heart would hate. This man had helped fight for these people, nearly getting himself killed to protect them, so he was more than worthy saving. Luckily, he had been stabilized when he arrived by Neev, now for the healing process.

"His wounds are mostly internal from blunt force, a beating it would seem, broken bones and internal bleeding. Cast a mid level healing spell to mend the bleeding, but concentrate on going beyond the surface and to his very core with a high level spell to mend his broken bones. He has a number of broken ribs, this forearm is broken, skull is cracked here, and his jaw is cracked as well. His mana is not depleting so we can let him rebuild that through rest, but his mana sickness will cause him not to rebuild mana to his full state. He will need therapy to work it back up, and even then, it might not be back to how it used to be," Neev instructed Maeve. Neeve then turned to the girl by Aerex's side, "He's going to be fine, you all did good to bring him here, do not worry. If you like, there is a seat right there where you can still keep an eye on him, you should sit and rest," she said with a tired smile.

-night passes, early dawn arrives-

As time passed, with the help of Maeve, Neev was able to see the last of her patients, and upon reaching that moment, literally collapsed of exhaustion. Vog had seemed to already see it coming and rushed to her, catching her mid fall. She had passed out on the spot, but....was purring? Vog did something rare and chuckled as he pat her head, "you did good, little one," he said as he lifted her to carry her someplace to rest. It seems she was content with being able to get to everyone, but the ordeal hit her hard. Vog turned to Maeve, "I thank you for lending your hand. If you hadn't come along, I'm afraid she would have been more than willing to sacrifice her own magic... or worse, as long as she knew it would save these people." He was silent for a moment as he looked at his travel partner, unsure what to think. "I am assigned to help keep her safe from threats when she travels to these different cities, but... I can't keep her safe from herself it seems. Who am I to tell her she can't strive to save a life, eh?" He shook his head and looked back to Maeve, "you should go rest as well, I'll keep things safe until your return."

When Maeve choose to leave, she would notice dawn breaking. The corpses still littered the streets, awaiting to be removed once things were all clear and the people recovered, but where Hilde probably would expect to se nothing but corpses since the fighting had died down, there was one lone figure, balanced perfectly on on the tip of the pointed pillar monument in the center of the square. It was an odd figure, a basket helmet with a pipe sticking out, smoke occasionally billowing out of the helmet slits, a rough cape made of a what seemed to be long grass, with small hooks adorning it here and there. Te man was standing on one stilt, balanced on the tip of the monument, bent in a sort of squatting position as the other leg crossed his knee as if sitting there, another stilt on that foot as well oddly enough. But what was stranger still, was the dried up hand hanging from his belt, and what looked like an oddly heavy farming hoe, covered in old bloodstains. One would not want to imagine the contents of the woven pouches her wore. He sat there in silence, breathing deeply through his pipe, but starring directly at Maeve. For anyone sensitive to magic, even though he kept his aura hidden, his mere presence was enough to disturb the mana around him. In these early morning hours, Sev may wake to find his air ward fluctuating naturally, as if the pressures around it were struggling to hold their structure.

---

Something interesting was close, Nix wasn't exactly sure what it was but the smell was quite interesting. it was different from before, in fact it was oddly sweet. That didn't make sense though, she hadn't seen any berries on the way here, unless this pack carried other strange things with th-

Nix's thoughts were interuppted when a hand had settled on her head, she almost instantly ducked her head down to avoid it and started to scury backwards, yelping when she bumped into Kistal and leaping foorward, spinning around at the same time, kicking up some sand in the process. In her panic, her hair raised as she got low, getting ready to sprint out the moment she could. The moonlight filtering into tye cave would reveal her to be an azure wolf beastman, a rare breed originating from north of Midrill. As for attire there was literally nothing to speak of except the dull gold necklaces that draped around her neck, marking some sort of importance for the wolf tribe. As she moved away she did remember that sweet smell getting strong, seeming to come from that bag he was holding. Her grownling subsided, yet her hair was stil raised and she was still alert. Then he talked to her, asked if she,...understood him?

"Nix hear....," she said lowly. He looked like he was trying to offer her the bag, and she, after a moment of thoight, would cautiously start start tto get closer to him him, even at one point pawing at the sack and retrieving one of the pieces of meat. when she ate it, her eyes went wide and her tail wagged back and forth as she nearly squeled in delight at the taste. With a look of delight she went for more, until Eduard started to stir. Her ears honed in on him instantly before she turned her head to him, startled, noticing him and another man who wasnt in the same position as he was when she entered, his hand on one for those sharp sticks.

"Eh!? Trap!?" she called out as her ears layed back with a snarl. So they were planning on tricking her all along! thinking she was in trouble, she quickly snapped at the bag, grabbing it in her mouth as she bolted out for the entrance of the cave, her speed a near blur as she rushed out, even leaping over Chihiro and hilde in one bound and kicking off the cave wall, bounding towards the exit

Chihiro stayed asleep for the most part. She did end up half-awake at the end but saw no danger and just went back to sleeping. After all, she had a dream she quite liked and wanted to get back to as soon as feasible. Her eyes were already closed, and her mind was already nearly back into sleep as Nix leaped over her.

Kistal was about to resume talking to her when his companions stirred and spooked her. She took the meat he was going to give anyway and bounded off. He made no move to pursue and in fact stepped to the side to make it clear he intended no one to go after her. He looked back over his shoulder at the waking companions. "Let her go. She just wanted food. I gave her some of my extra food, sweet meats specifically." He leaned against his spear and watched her agility. It was very interesting to watch. She was out of her element but seemed to adapt at a decent pace.

Allanon focused his attention on the quick movements of the escaping thief. From the snarling, he could tell they were a beastperson. It was unusual for one to be alone. Perhaps this one was a stray or lost their tribe? He knew that with all the excitement there would be no way he would not fall back asleep. There would be only a few more hours before everyone would have to wake up for the raid anyways.

He watched as what he now understood to be a female bolted for the exit in agile fashion. Allanon stretched out, but remained seated. "Well... I imagine a solo watch all-night is a bit lonely, so I think I'll accompany you for the remainder of the night."

Allanon had a fairly advantageous view of the cave where he was seated as he could see the entire space as well as the exit from here. He was well enough rested that he could perform well all through the day. Regardless, he was used to short nights of sleep.

Elsewhere... NORTHEAST of Portea, along the windy shore of the Crystal Sea.

A frantic FELINE with reddish brown fur paced back and forth, her little paws leaving tiny tracks in the wet sand. Under the overcast weather, the reed cat's sharp greenish eyes tracked something adrift in the water and no matter how violently the waves ebbed and flowed, she dared not turn her gaze away, at least not for too long. The raw threat of predators captivated her attention, especially given what had just happened to her and her cohort. Regardless, she occasionally yowled out to him in hopes of rousing his ire. It had always worked before, but she couldn't understand why he wasn't responding. A few times she bravely attempted to traverse the salty water, but it was far too cold for her liking, and being out of her element went against every survival instinct in her bones.

Snap. The reed cat froze in mid stride, her black-tipped ears arching up as she stared a few yards to her right at the source of the unnerving noise, some dark foliage further inland. A minute passed before she felt free to glance around, but then she turned once again towards the Crystal Sea. Fortunately, her cohort continued bobbing up and down in her sight, drifting ever closer to the shore. The reed cat followed along as the wind ushered him gently, the sand and dust also rising up and around her long legs. He gradually reached the entrance of a shallow pond that connected the mainland to the sea. As he came to a stop upon the sand, she knew that this was her chance.

With a running leap that was all too natural for her kind, the reed cat landed upon her cohort's hulking mass, being careful not to touch the multitude of spikes on his backside. He was covered in seaweed, which she sniffed curiously as she made her way towards the back of his large, bulging neck. Her moist nose poked his eye gently as she let out a soft mew, as though pleading. She had succeeded in her mission: She had reconnected with her Dracodile and booped him to let him know that she was there and that everything would be alright.

Black and white images flashed through Gossk Quor-dek's mind: He'd captured a large fish. He groaned as something rubbed up against his left eyelid. He tore into it hungrily as he floated in the Crystal Sea. Softly growling with a wince, he opened his eyes, the world of color raking over his irises. Blood surrounded him in the water, and a shadow grew towards him. He blinked, feeling an odd weight on his neck. Jaws... that was all he saw before something took hold of him, shaking him like a rag doll. A pair of green eyes loomed into view, causing him to focus on it.

'Licks...?' Gossk thought, realizing that he and his pet were alive. He fought for his life, clawing, biting, cursing Illorask.... Suddenly, everything that had happened replayed in his mind in a rapid, accurate sequence. He had heard tales of monsters that his Rasskarr elders called 'razor mouth', but humans called them sharks. At the very thought of it, fear startled Gossk and he mustered every bit of strength he had left and looked behind him, at the Crystal Sea. He croaked a defiant growl, though it was more like a shudder, as he crawled away as fast as he could. The pond was only a yard away, yet it seemed like miles to the Dracodile.

Upon touching the pond's surface with an outstretched claw, Licks immediately found it necessary to leap off of him and sniff his hand. He watched her, somewhat annoyed. He didn't have food for her, not yet. The mission had been a failure and he made a mental note to never enter the Crystal Sea again, at least not without learning how to utterly destroy any and all sharks.

As he tried to relax, the adrenaline began to wear off and the pain that he wasn't feeling before overwhelmed his senses, causing him to squirm and choke in between panted breaths. He wasn't sure where he was hurting, but it felt like everything was intact. His large satchel, unbeknownst to him, had washed up about 10 yards away, and it had been the first clue that Licks found to know that her cohort was nearby.

Licks watched him expectantly. "Go...hunt," Gossk rasped to her, his weakened voice sounding watery. The reed cat folded her ears, feeling somewhat disappointed. If she knew that she was going to have to hunt for her dinner that day, she would have already done so before saving him. But she butted her head on her cohort's jaw anyway. She then jumped over a bush, leaving him to the safety of the shallow pond.

Relieved that she had obeyed, Gossk knew that he just wanted to rest. He was certainly hurting, but his belly was full. As long as Licks got her fill, he knew everything would turn out alright. He wasn't about to give up just because a shark almost ate him. Who does that?

The cat may be alerted to a sudden noise of something coming out of the water not to far from where Gossk has washed ashore. For Gossk, He may first see a horn slowly rise out of the water, followed by blue hair, tanned skin, and the the sight of inquisitive red eyes peering out, small fins on the side of this creature's had flared out to listen. Slowly and cautiously it started to make its way closer to the shore. Whatever it was, it seemed war to approach him.

Lynn had never seen anything like him. It was a monstrous figure she had only thought to hear about in legend. Everything in her body told her she should stay away, but her curiosity won out as she slowly started to make her way out of the water. Grossk would see a mostly human looking girl with long hair to her waist, webbed hands, a large tail, and fins on the sides of her legs slowly emerge. Lynn picked up his bag and looked to him, nodding. She took a few steps closer, and waited for a reaction. She could have sworn she heard some other small creature calling for help, this couldn't have been it... She came closer, noticing the shark bites on his torso, and she noticed that he seemed to be having trouble breathing as well, most likely there was water in his lungs. Odd, even though he had gills, it seemed that he still had air based lungs instead of a hybrid like hers.

When she noticed this, she hurried her pace a bit more, and although Gossk could see a look of evident fear in her eyes, there was a determination there as well. She knelt next to him, and placed his satchel to his side. "Do not worry, I can help you," she gently said to him, not knowing if he could understand her or not, but hoping the tone made it clear. She held a hand over his chest, her left one that wasn't covered by the large sleeve. Gossk would then have the incredibly odd feeling of water moving inside his lungs, and then back up his throat, and then out of his mouth, cast aside as he was able to breath again. The mergirl didn't seem to stop there, however. While she did give him a moment to regain his breath, she started enveloping the wounded area of his body from the bite in water.

"Bathe this one in healing light, and restore him to his former might...," she chanted, with the water that surrounded his injuries starting to glow a faint golden color. Soon, Gossk would feel his pain starting to fade, his wounds closing, large shark teeth falling out of his body, and new scales growing in place of the ones that were broken off.Once finished, the water would lose its form and fall freely off of him, the light inside it fading away. Lynn took a few paces back to let him get his bearings, a staff floating to her, made out of heavy steel and resembling a bar with a large heavy paddle on each end. Half of the paddle seemed to have a large glassed in area containing water inside of it. The staff then moved itself behind Lynn and lowering so that she may sit on it in a sidesaddle position. "Are... are you alright?" she finally asked. If he was violent, the staff should be able to fly her away quick enough to get away.... she hoped.



Once let out of the cave, Nix was out of sight and sound, not stopping for any of them, just in case they might try to pursue. Hilde stirred after Nix jumped over her, her hand going to her blade, even though her eyes were still trying to focus. When she noticed nobody was all that worried, she figured it was just some animal that investigated their little camp and easily went back to sleep. Bidzil was still out, sleeping completely through the whole ordeal.

It was a little while after things had calmed down, a small flapping could be heard. What looked at first to be a little bat flew into the cave and went straight for Eduard, beaming him straight in the forehead and then falling to the ground. Upon closer inspection it was a small woven basket-like box with artificial enchanted bat wings on it. there was a small paw print inked onto it for decoration. If Eduard were to open the little container, he would find a scrap of paper with a note that simply read, 'Kalla attacked, large number of casualties. Not sure if I can handle them all. Please help. Neev.' It was hastily written, and there was a smudge of blood on it from her writing on it with, well, not the cleanest hands.

This note was followed shortly the sound of a large gust of wind, followed by Sahale gently landing at the cave entrance. "Ah, looks like I made the right decision following that little messenger," he said, nodding to Allanon and Kistal respectively. It seems that he made good on his promise to catch up with them before the raid, but, where did all those bloodstains on is clothes come from? "I'm glad see everyone is still in one piece, that's good considering the mess outside," Sahale said, mentioning the fresh wrym bones not too far outside. Sahale looked at Eduard, "Mr. Kotch I assume? You might want to read that...," he said, nodding to the little messenger device.

Hilde sat up, since others seemed to be awake as well, "hmm? Who-... who is this?" she asked, not recognizing the man even though he spoke rather casually.

"Oh my, where are my manners, I believe I haven't introduced myself. My name is Sahale, and may I say it is quite a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he said with a eye catching smile.

Hilde's face redenned slightly, though it was harder to see in the dark cave. However, she was still wary of him considering he was covered in dried blood. "Why are you...-"

"Kalla was attacked..." Sahale started as he looked up to Dorran, "I was going to be here sooner, but I stuck around to aid them. There were admittedly a few casualties, but that little Red Saint over there really knows her stuff. And that inn keeper you have over there Dorran, you weren't kidding when you said he could hold his own."

Dorran nodded with his arms crossed, "He is stronger than even I am, admittedly. It's a wonder that he decided against becoming cheif himself."

"Father!? Kalla was attacked, is he alright?" Hilde stood up, her heartbeat starting to race, her face wrought with worry.

"He was seriously injured, It didn't look good, however, that healer Neev along with an isoli visitor were able to take care of him. Don't you worry, he is going to be fine. From he looks of the battlefield it would take more than that to bring him down. He's as strong as they come," Sahale assured her.

Hilde still sunk back down to her bedroll, "I... I should have been there...," she lamented, "I should have stayed, of coarse they would attack when we left, I should have known..." She drew up her legs and folded her arms atop them with her head buried. What had she done? She had left them when they needed her most and now her father was heavily injured because of it. It was shameful. She was a guard, why did she ever think she should be running around in the first place?

Kistal simply nodded to Allanon and let him stand guard with the satyr. He melted back into the shadows and restarted his vigil. Once morning came and the messenger arrived along with a blood soaked man, Kistal stepped forward. "They knew we would send a party. It is the Calabris way to do something like this. That means their main camp will be reinforced, expecting us. I suggest a small group of our stealthiest moving in from behind to catch them off guard and the main force distracting at the camp entrance."

He let out a small grumble, seeming to be antsy. "I would like to get some Calabris blood on my hands, especially after they attacked a town for no reason." His spear, unusually, was held parallel to the ground, in a ready state. Kistal seemed to be itching to go.

Chihiro woke up to find a new visitor and news of Kalla being attacked. She let out a hiss under her breath. "They will pay for being such dirty criminals. They will not know what will hit them." As Hilde began to worry and regret, though, Chihiro's countenance quickly softened. She knelt by the Varuk woman and wrapped her up in a hug. "It will be ok, dear. Allard is tough and strong. Here or there, you will be of assistance. You were either damned if you stayed or damned if you went. The camp will have the most enemies, so being here means you can prevent further attacks on Kalla."

THE INCREDIBLY PRIVILEGED reed cat, Licks, had just returned to her cohort's approximate location, a pair of large hares dangling from her mouth and dragging along the ground. She knew her cohort would be hungry after a nap, so she had spent some extra time hunting for a suitable portion. Licks immediately crouched behind some tall grass, dropping her prey as her eyes spied the strange water creature emerging from the ocean and wading to the beach towards the satchel. Glancing at her catch one last time, Licks crawled a little closer towards Gossk, her superb stealth keeping her hidden. Her paws flexed slightly, her claws kissing the soft ground. She wanted to be within leaping distance if the creature decided to attack her utterly defenseless cohort.

Gossk heard Lynn's surfacing long before he opened an eye to observe her approach. In fact, he knew that Licks had returned from her hunt, due to how she liked to chase down really large prey and drag it along like some joyful little child. However, the reed cat's exact location remained unknown to him, which did prompt him to open his eyes and scan the grass--he didn't see her. 'Good,' he thought, feeling proud of his pet's training and obedience. The Dracodile turned his massive head ever so slightly towards Lynn, his discerning eyes eating up the full image of her body, particular features, gait, and even the small micro-expressions betraying her nervousness and fear. 'What... is this? What thing have you sent to test me now, Illorassk?' Gossk pondered, not even sure if he should think that the shark had been some kind of aquatic beastman and this thing was his minion sneaking up to finish the job. In fact, it had already stolen his satchel, so it was obviously seeking to rob whatever leftovers it believed him to possess.

Gossk remained perfectly still as Lynn watched her step and, with each closer step, peered down at him with growing intensity. The behavior confused the Dracodile a little bit, making him rethink her aquatic-beastman-minion status. Maybe it was just a curious thing? He had encountered many of those, ate most of them. Except his pet. His labored breathing suddenly interrupted his thoughts and shook him violently. He blinked a few times, openly staring at her now and letting her know that he was aware of her encroaching presence. Her sudden haste made him squirm even more, but the debilitating pain stopped him and ushered from him a small, pained growl. He couldn't even shift his legs into a coiled position, and it frustrated him. 'Fear, I see, but what is that look?' he questioned, his eyes squinting as she dared to kneel next to him, even with his satchel placed next to him, instead of her.

That action alone shifted Gossk's perspective of Lynn immediately.

'What...?' he thought, using his arms to lift his upper body a little as he eyed his satchel, and then at her as she spoke to him in Common; 'twas an odd, but useful language that he was still mastering. Moreover, he was always eager to hear people speak it whenever he could afford the opportunity. The mere fact that Lynn was using the power of word to relate to him, instead of claw, tooth, or even a big stick, calmed the Dracodile immensely, almost to the point of shock. No creature of the Wilds would do such a thing. And so, Gossk submitted to Lynn, grunting in affirmation as he looked away, which was one of a few signs of trust in the Wilds. You don't just casually turn your back on a predator, nor do you keep your eyes trained on an ally.

Lynn's process of removing water surprised Gossk and as he coughed and hacked, he took note of her gentleness. It was not something that he was used to, albeit Licks was the closest thing that provided him a semblance of infrequent, but genuine intimacy. His eye followed the water, fascinated by the thing's skill in magic--in this case, a kind that he had never seen before. Her incantation amused him as well, and he even found it inspiring. Again, another feeling that he hadn't felt in such a long time. In the back of his mind, Gossk wondered if this thing was a divine creature, spawned by Illorassk himself. His pain relief was wonderfully quick and as he assumed a better position to stand up, which was sort of a half crouch, the watery creature proved skittish and moved away. That was fine. 'This thing is... respectful,' he concluded.

Her glances at him and his satchel were effective in getting him to check himself and get his bearings. Gossk noticed the seaweed and peeled it off. He also realized that his various skull trophies have disappeared, probably due to that damned shark; in fact, he noted the absence of each one and recalled the fond memories. 'This saddens me, but it cannot be changed. I will simply make more some day,' he told himself, seeing that his savior had decided to brandish a large, metal beam that contained water. The Dracodile couldn't tell if it was a weapon of war or a tool for discipline. Perhaps it was both, only Illorassk knew.

At her inquiry to his well-being, Gossk resumed rising slowly, but didn't stand completely. As he knelt before her, he still had to look down at her, given her 5' 4" height. He simply said, with a deep, half-growling voice, "Yess, thanks to yoou."

Each word that he spoke in Common contained an odd twist attached to each syllable, as though the Dracodile was substituting different sounds for others that he wouldn't pronounce. The reason why he might do this would probably not be apparent to Lynn, but Gossk was used to quizzical leers when he spoke Common. At least his fluency in it wasn't anything like his native tongue, which he seldom spoke and for good reason. The posture-dependent, gesture-laden, and complex language of Rasskarr was more like watching a pair of reptiles hiss and growl at each other, with taunts and feints, than an actual civil conversation between two life-long friends. In other words, Gossk didn't speak much.

Licks, sensing that everything was alright, returned to retrieve her catch. She carefully trotted towards Gossk and Lynn, giving the latter a wide berth and a sustained side glance. Just as her cohort picked up her sleeping bag and assumed a kneeling position, as he is wont to do when showing respect to non-prey, the reed cat placed the two hares a few feet away from Gossk, then sat promptly next to him to receive her reward. Petting her head and then scratching her chin with a claw, Gossk spoke once again, looking down at the notorious hunter, "Good, Licks, good..."

After storing the hares into his satchel, Gossk returned his attention to Lynn, adjusting his cowl so it wasn't covering his brilliant purple eyes that much. Though he looked at her, she might notice that he avoided direct eye-contact with her. He chose his words carefully before speaking. "Strange one, you restored ny, ah, lisse, err, ny tine here... yes, so... I shaall serde you until it is, uh... 'aid too tines o'er. Do not norry, Illorassk secures it so nine... integrity grants nee strength to do this to you."

His oath was not as eloquently stated as Gossk thought it was, but his determination was evident in his eyes, if Lynn could see. But even Licks had to stop staring at Lynn and glance up at her cohort because he sounded like he was gargling vomit and hairballs. She wondered if she should be concerned. She decided to wait anyway.

Regardless, a life debt was not something that Gossk would shy from, for he had saved his own kind before and had it repaid. He knew now that the shark attack was a means to an end, to bring him here so that Illorassk might bless him with an ally--a gentle one at that. 'Illorassk is good,' Gossk thought, with a nod before suddenly remembering that he'd forgotten something.

"Ny nane iss <Gossk Quor-dek>," he stated to Lynn, placing his hand on his chest and speaking his own name in Rasskarr. He didn't feel it prudent to spend time translating his own name's meaning.

He gestured towards her then, asking erroneously, "Hoo are you, uh, called?"

As though to emphasize his question, Licks meowed inquisitively at Lynn, but remained at Gossk's side as she cease sitting and flexed her paws again.

@Jollan

Eduard stopped right in his tracks when the flying messenger hit him right in the forehead. Shaking his head, he instinctively raised a hand up to his head before looking down to see the small basket with wings. Raising an eyebrow, he bent down and picked it up. Reaching into the basket, he pulled out the piece of paper. The short, hastily scribbled message sent Eduard into a quiet panic. This was a problem, and a big one. One one hand he had a camp possibly full of slave girls who would probably need short-term physical care and long-term psychological care. And on the other, he had half a town that probably needed him to diagnosed more specific injuries. Two tired healers wasn't going to cut it. People there needed a doctor that could ensure their injuries didn't become a problem later or even kill them in the near future. He felt he had a decision to make. Whatever thoughts he had about Aerex took a back seat. Now, he needed to focus. Before heading to the entrance, he quickly picked up his things and placed them all in his bag. He then approached the new arrival.

"You there." He said, as he walked over. "You said you came from Kalla, no? I need you to take me there. The healers won't be able to keep the patients stable on the long-term. I need to get there as fast as you can take me. Considering how fast you got here, I presume you used magic and not a horse?"

Accident

As Sahale introduced himself Allanon raised his eyebrows. The man held a legendary reputation among those in the underground. He was also known to be one of the few powerful underworld leaders not in the Calabris' pocket. He had a reputation as a fiercely independent assassin-turned-broker. At least Allanon now knew he could trust Sahale not to be a Calabris spy sent to send him into a trap. Allanon reattached his sword and his wife's sword to his belt as he stood up.

"You said you'd explain more about the Calabris operation here," Allanon recalled making direct eye contact with Sahale. "Given your reputation, you are no friend to the Calabris, and you definitely aren't in their pocket. I hope you can give satisfactory information."

He had limited trust for Sahale. His previous attitude in the chapel seriously gave Allanon pause in regards to dealing with the man. While he knew Calabris had plenty of ears, and he understood that Sahale could not divulge too much information. Veiled threats were not something Allanon took kindly to. He also could not discount any agenda Sahale might have.

It was too late to do anything about the disaster that struck Kalla, but Allanon could avenge them. "I hope you can tell quickly enough, so we can get sooner justice for those lost and wounded." His hand slowly clasped over the butt of his sword's handle. Much like Kistal he was eager to kill some Calabris soldiers.

It's been eight days since Tyrael went into this desert. The arid lands were not to his liking; he could withstand surviving a harsh environment, but he lived in a forested mountain, not these dry sand flats. Fortunately he was not so prideful that he didn't take advice from people from the last town about how to traverse these sands. He made sure to pack supplies that would help him on his journey such as breathable but covering cloth that would allow him to sweat but protect his skin from the sun. He also made sure to buy plenty of water for himself as well as supplies that both last and hydrate, such as dried fruits. However not everything goes as according to plan.

About two days into his journey Tyrael was caught in a sandstorm. In a panic he tried to run to find cover, but in the process ended up being caught by a freakish wind that lifted him off of his feet and opened his pack. He had to spend most of that day gathering his supplies, and many were lost. Not to mention he lost track of his path and was uncertain of his eventual destination. Lost in the desert with limited supplies: A nightmare for most. But Tyrael wasn't the type to worry about that sort of thing. He wasn't a normal warriors after all: he was a mighty mage as well. He called for the assistance of his familiar, Zastriel, to scout the area while he did his best to find any useful supplies as he traveled. Though a desert, the place was not without it's share of bounty. Many creatures of the sand could provide nutrients if Tyrael was clever enough to catch them, and though they tasted bitter and needed careful treatment, there were indeed plans that Tyrael could live off of, at least supplementing his meager rations.

That had been Tyrael's life these past few days, and he knew it would not last for long. He had only two days worth of rations that he was already stretching to it's absolute limit. His magics unfortunately could not assist him in turning rocks into bread or sand into water, and at best could only allow him to withstand the day's burning sun and the night's chilling cold. But an orc was a creature that needs food for strength, and without food they tire easily compared to smaller and weaker creatures. Tyrael was no exception to this. Fortunately Zastiel's scouting provided some useful fruit: a sand skiff.

He had heard about these things while in his last town. They were magical boats that traverse the sands at amazing speeds. Hearing this news made Tyrael regret his arrogance: he didn't wish to pay the fee to take a skiff to the next town and assumed he could make the journey on foot. But now he would need that skiff's assistance. Or he would, if there weren't some complications. Namely that this was no passenger skiff: Zastriel spotted armed warriors, three varuks and two swordsmen, and three women in chains. Slavers. Tyrael had neither hatred nor favoritism towards their kind, as he understood the purpose of such men in these times. But because of those neutral feelings, he knew he would have no issues depriving them of their lives and resources.

Still, Tyrael had to be careful. Varuks are a mighty people and those swordsmen were likely trained warriors themselves. Tyrael was both a fighter and a mage but he was alone, and his odds against five others is slim. Not to mention that even if he could fight them, they had the advantage of a sand skimmer with supplies and likely large on-board weapons, while Tyrael at best as the element of surprise. But that's what he would need the most. Zastiel was able to listen in on the men and learn of their destination and direction. They had equipment to manage their path, which Tyrael would desperately need in order to get out of this cursed place. More importantly, he knew the best place to set up an ambush to maximize his chances to catch the men off-guard and destroy them.

And today was that day. A Sand Skiff was just that: a skiff that treads over sand. Zastial learned that there was, however, a large patch of crag the skiff would have to round. And that is where Tyrael would set up his ambush. He had already arrived and could already see the skiff from a mile off. Sending out his invisible imp to feed him information, Tyrael strapped his shield onto his arm as he also took out his large wooden bow. Unlike the bows of Sylves, the orc Ironbows require great strength. They trade in a bow's speed for a strength that rivals that of a balista. So strong that their own arrows were more akin to spears than arrows, and their strings were more like chains than ropes. Drawing a composite arrow from his bulky quiver, Tyrael observed the skiff in the distance. But now through his eyes: through the eyes of his familiar.

He could see the five men on board. The three women were dressed in simple garbs, just enough to protect them from the effects of nature, but were trapped with chains near the back of the skiff. The other men were either keeping watching or dealing with the skiff's riggings. As he drew his arrow, Tyrael whispered a spell that caused his arrow to glow slightly with runes. "Shakop ushaugit." Tyrael waited for a few seconds longer. He needed the right moment. When the wind and sky themselves were right where he needed them. Seconds became minutes until finally he released the arrow just as the Skiff was starting to turn. The skiff was still a thousand feet away, Tyrael's own form barely even a spec in the eyes of the men on board, but before they would see him they would hear a distant boom from his bow, like a tree that had cracked and begin to fall. That was the only warning they'd receive as the varuk helmsmen, still steering the skiff, would have a massive arrow fly between the spokes of the wheel and fly towards his chest.

The man would die instantly as the arrow tears through his body, impaling him against the deck of the ship. This would cause the whole craft to begin careening dangerously towards the crag, forcing the rest of the men to scramble. They wisely figure that the attack came from the crag itself and made maneuvers to avoid any additional attacks, but would fail to realize that the danger wasn't going to come from any additional arrows, but the only one fired onto the ship. Sudden the various wooden rods that made up the singular arrow shaft began to split, each one turning into an unnatural looking snake that proceeded to bite the varuk warrior who had went to take control of the wheel. Chaos would continue to spread as the snakes would slither and attack the crew, but leave the bound women alone, and more importantly provided an ample distraction for Tyrael as the skiff would crash into the rocky crag.

Despite Chihiro's and the strange man's words, Hilde was naturally still worried about her father. "But I am a guard, it was my duty to be there for them, and I left them to chase after my own desires...," she said quietly while being embraced.

Dorran then looked to her and walked with purpose. He stood squarely in front of her for a moment before kneeling down to her. "Hilde, look at me," he started, waiting for her to do so. "You are a temple guard in Kalla because we trust you as one of our stronger warriors. We have been attacked, a number of times since you took this position and you always stood your ground to gaurd the lives of others around you. Now, our people have been taken, ones that hold our future, stolen to be dragged off to some foreign land. Though I may disagree with you choosing to come, I am admittedly glad you did. Your town is proud of you, and I know your father is too. Now, cast aside your doubts young one, our people are out there waiting for you to come guard them from a miserable fate. Nobody ever said a guard had to stay in one place, just protect their people, eh?" he finished with a smirk. He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder. She nodded, trying to keep her own tears from showing. She was calmed but his words still struck deep within her.

Sahale met Allanon's gaze casually, "Ah, yes, what he is up to this time." He took a bit of a deep breathe before continuing, knowing it was going to take a moment to explain. "Well, its a bit of a two for one for him it seems. He had struck a deal with the most prominent group of Varuk bandits in this area, 'Krogan's Bane' or something silly like that as they had rejected his ideals in the past, not very inventive if you ask me. Anyway, firstly, he wanted a group of dancers for his own entertainment and, well... extracurricular activities, or whatever. The bandits, however, wanted his help in taking Kalla for themselves. A tall order for a few dancers, right? Well, I thought so too, so I started digging into Calibris's recent personal endeavors. Turns out, he has something else up his sleeve. Remember when i mentioned the legend of the oracle from the vanishing kingdom? Well, Calibris has his eyes set on meeting this oracle lately it seems, whether his advisers try to convince him its just a fairy tale or not. He figures if he collects all the 'world's treasures' and the tale is bogus, then he only stood to increase his wealth, if it is true however... well, he believes he can fulfill any wish he desires...," Sahale let the thought sink in for a moment, pacing around the sand before returning to Allanon. "Where does that tie in, you wonder? Well, it just so happens that a particularly strong bandit leader that he decided to strike a deal with had obtained one for the treasures. The soul of Krogan, the red jewel that was affixes the the bottom of his great maul, thought to be unreachable do to the state of the ruins. Calibirs will work with him until he is able to take the jewel for himself, then cut all ties with the bandits by destroying them to leave no witnesses and upping his own reputation as the killer of a bandit horde."

When Sahale finished explaining the situation, he stopped his slight pacing and looked to Allanon once again, "Is that satisfactory? I have you know this wan't so easy information to dig up. Nearly cost my informant her life and I had to take her under my protection just to get his men off her back. Now I have to furnish a whole new room when I go home, its quite the ordeal you know...," he said half playfully, tough there did seem to be a touch of truth to his over-inflated troubles. It could take nearly a week to secure the right furnishings for his new guest and then he would need to transport them. That's a long ritual to set up, for he surely wouldn't want it delivered personally. What a bother...

As Sahale pondered his remodeling project, another man approached him with a request. Upon how Eduard regarded him, his eyes instantly cut into him like daggers. "I believe I have already introduced myself Mr. Koch, I would prefer it if you called me by name instead of 'you there', are we clear?" There was a moment of quiet before his demeanor instantly softened back to his regular casual countenance as he answered him. "I can take you back, but that would make me late for the party here. I'd say I'd like to help pluck this group from existence, I guess making sure all innocent lives are handled first.... alright, we can go, but be sure to secure anything you don't want dropping. These winds will be like nothing you have experienced," he warned. Sahale looked to the others, "I guess we will be meeting back in Kalla instead. Pity, I was hoping to crack a few more skulls. Ah well, more for all of you it seems." As he walked out of the cave, a blast of wind surrounded him, making his clothes whip around wildly in the wind as he started to levitate, waiting on Eduard. "Alright, now. Come on, no time to lose. But here, hold my blade. Best you have something of mine to hold onto so she knows you are with me. Don't want to be ripped to shreds now, would ya?" Sahale tossed his long blade over to Eduard. Oddly enough, it seemed to just be a bar of steel, without a blade and without a sheath. To anyone sensitive to the presence of spirits, the moment the heavy winds surrounded Sahale, they may be able to feel the presence of something great, though not visible.

Dorran then addressed the group. "Change of plans, we move now... get ready to move out, I want a squad of three to stay here and hold the camp," he ordered as three of his own volunteered. "I like the stealth group idea, and since you mentioned it, I'll let you lead it, pick out who you need. I will head the main force, taking with me everyone else. Lets get ready people," he finished.



Lynn's head tilted slightly, her finned ears splaying out to hear Gossk more efficiently as she tried to piece together his speech. It was odd, but she wasn't surprised, after all, he didn't have a mouth like hers to speak from. "Oh my, no, that's entirely unnecessary! I-I didn't do it for you to owe me anything, I just did what I felt was right! It would be wrong of me to do it with the intent of being paid back after all," she said hastily. He then introduced himself, and although she didn't quite catch the later part of his name to well, she could pronounce the first part easy enough. The meowing of the cat however caught her attention rather easily. "AH! You are the one I heard calling out. I had never seen a creature like you before, you're so cute!" she started and then immediately stopped, blushing slightly as she remembered she was asked a question. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get sidetracked. Gossk, was it? Its a pleasure, my name is Lynn Meditrina. How are you feeling? While the wounds may be healed, you may still be feeling soreness. So what brings you here, I've never seen anyone like you before, are you from another sea?"

Allanon absorbed the information Sahale gave. As far as Calabris behavior was concerned what was explained was rather classic. While he was sympathetic to the risk Sahale's informant took to get that information, he remained unmoved in regards to his theatrics. "That is certainly a classic Calabris move. Very well, thank you for that information, Sahale."

Once Dorran declared they were moving out now and ordered some of his guards to hold down the camp, Allanon faced the group. "How many of you are used to operating as part of a team?" How long had it been since the last time he operated as part of a team? He continued. "If most of us are not used to it, then I believe it may be best if we have a general plan of action and then do what we're best at. If we continue to work together in the future we can then work on determining roles." The few times he teamed up with someone or multiple people since his vigilante efforts started this was often the best strategy considering strangers usually worked poorly within coordinated roles unless they were used to teamwork. He applied the same logic to this group.

Deep within his eyes, one could see a cold rage boiling up as Allanon recalled the night he lost his wife. "I'm ready to head out right now." Those bandits had caused others a lot of suffering, and they were a black mark on this world. A mark that would be wiped clean from this world.

---

It was very exhaustive but Maeve somehow managed to keep up with Neev, who despite being even more tired than she already was and having already exhausted her magic, kept running from one patient to another to help them. Even though Maeve wasn't exactly skilled with healing magic, Neev's orientation showed to be quite clear and precise, making it easy for her to help. Maeve did notice how the healer girl didn't react to the fact that the man was a Grusk. She was still a bit careful around him but seeing how Neev herself had no different reaction, she simply kept her thoughts to herself.

It did take a good amount of time, but thanks to everyone's efforts and Neev's instructions, they were finally reached a point where they could say that they had 'finished', at least for now. Unsurprisingly, Neev instantly collapsed the moment they were finished, being caught mid air by a man who was also in the temple to help. After taking her somewhere to rest, the man returned to thank Maeve for her support.

"It was indeed incredibly exhausting... Her dedication to her work is admirable though. It was lucky that I was here to help though as she was starting to show clear symptoms of magic exhaustion." Maeve said, stretching herself as she nodded to Vog after he said that he was tasked to keep her safe.

"It's probably best for me to rest as well. Opponents of the level of those bandits would never make me tired, but using healing magic, which I'm not that proficient with, for long periods of time sure made me exhausted." Maeve finished as she retired herself to rest even if for a bit.

It was already dawn but she slept only a few hours before the entire attack began. The moment she was on her way to Allard's inn though, she was met with quite a peculiar sight outside. Balancing himself on the tip of the pillar on the center of the square, a mysterious figure waited, alone. Wearing a basket helmet and occasionally producing puffs of smoke from the pipe it had was simply there, waiting, almost as if it was waiting for someone or something to happen. Despite having only taken a brief glance at the figure, it was enough for her to realize that, whoever that was, had a magic aura so powerful it was almost palpable.

Gently putting her hand on her rapier, Maeve approached the square, stopping some distance away from the monument, looking at the strange figure on top of it. The more she looked at the figure, the stranger it got. It was carrying a heavy farm hoe, replete with unmistakable blood stains and carrying a weird, dried up hand on his belt. The strange figure seemed to be studying Maeve just as curiously as Maeve was staring back at it.

"Who are you?" Maeve finally asked, looking at the strange figure. Despite the fact that Maeve had still a calm tone in her voice, the fact that she had her hand in her rapier and her piercing stare were enough to tell the figure that she didn't trust it. Maeve was doing her best to hide the fact that she was exhausted, but she would appreciate if she could avoid a confrontation at the moment.

Allard's Inn

Sev woke far earlier than he intended, or wanted, to a crackling snap. In an instant his staff was in his hand with the head pointed at the source, which was oddly the door. When his air ward breaks it's supposed to make a single loud snap, this sounded more like the the ward was being torn apart. Through tired eyes Sev eyed the door confused as to what was happening. The first time the illusion of a staff that covered his spear shimmered he wasn't sure if it was real or not, rubbing the sleep from his eyes he confirmed it as the image wavered again, momentarily revealing parts of the staff. As he came around he could also feel the illusion covering his eyes shimmering slightly, which was distinctly not good. Both spells had enough mana to last for the night so they weren't on the verge of failing, yet something was messing with them.

While he was in the army Sev was trained in practical magic, throwing fire and ice, using his gift of air to boost his abilities and attack enemies, that kind of thing. Theoretical Thaumaturgy was beyond him, all he could tell is that there was something odd in the air that was messing with his spells. He closed his eyes to try and sense other magics in the area, but only felt a chaotic mess of mana blowing around the town. He did feel a familiar aura, somewhat drained but tense as though about to fight. While Sev wasn't skilled enough to pinpoint Maeve's aura, he could tell something was wrong.

Quickly strapping his armor on and throwing his tunic over it Sev made for the door of his inn room, dismissing what remained of the ward. Seeing his staff shimmer again he thought for a moment before dismissing the illusion, it was clear the illusion would be difficult to maintain, likely not work and be hard to explain. The spell around his eyes, however, he shored up with more mana and focus, hopefully he could keep any shimmering in his eyes to a minimum.

Half running through the doors of the inn Sev immediately found Maeve, rapier in hand looking up at where an odd man squatted.

"Who are you?" Maeve asked, having not seen Sev yet.

The warrior mage followed her gaze and felt his hands tighten on his spear as he took in the sight of the hoe wielding, pipe smoking man with a dried hand hanging from his belt. Any remnants of sleep were banished from his system as his mind raced, a dozen possibilities coming to mind. Taking a deep breath he came up with a plan, acutely aware his illusions would be unreliable.

"He's either a bandit with poor taste in costumes, or the boogyman my mother threatened me with as a kid," Sev said as calmly as he could, walking to Maeve's side, "possibly both."

With one hand he quickly drew a line in the air in front of him summoning a thin but turbulent barrier of air between the two of them and the strange man. If that man was who he dressed as the barrier wouldn't stop him, however it had a second, more important purpose, in that it could cover up his illusions if needed. The barrier wavered chaotically against whatever was disturbing the mana in the air, distorting images seen through it.

Letting the barrier stand he focused on the images of himself and Maeve, ready to divorce the two of them from their apparent location, grab her and run if needed. The dislocation would likely only last a moment but with the Quickening that was enough for him to get down the block and around a corner, even carrying a confused, and likely upset, woman.

Outwardly he did his best to look calm, intellectually he knew this man was likely a fake, one of the dozens of bandits who copied that look to strike fear in others. But the way his spells were being distorted and mana was blowing about had Sev on edge, his mind hyper-focused on the other man, ready to enact his plan to run at the first sign this man was able to back up the threat the costume he wore implied.