After two weeks of it being in every paper throughout the island and being spread by word of mouth, the time had finally come for the long awaited royal decree involving the happenings at Irinoth island and how the kingdom would be responding. Anyone looking for adventure and/or exorbitant rewards was likely to be present in the capital's square before Noon as such a situation would likely require droves of mercenaries.

"ATTENTION, ATTENTION PLEASE!" A herald shouted as another man blew a horn to pierce through the hustle and bustle of the crowd. As everybody quieted down, the herald cleared his throat. "His royal highness has declared a state of emergency regarding the unknown threat in the south that has likely destroyed both the kingdom of Rjaskav and Solvnir. All of the information we have is from key nobles that have relocated here to seek refuge, so its reliability is questionable. These are trying times and as such, recent events may have skewed their perception. All we know for certain is that a strange conquering army invaded the island and conquered it. Because of this, the king is offering a bounty of two hundred and fifty thousand gold to any group that can provide solid evidence of this strange army and their intentions. This reconnaissance will be vitally important in the days to come, so any and all adventurers are invited to participate in the scouting party. Know that this mission could be incredibly dangerous. In the meantime, the king has asked that our citizens provide shelter and aid to the refugees fleeing their home as we could only hope they would for us."



Troe listened to the man speak. Of course he hadn't been intending to be here for this announcement, but he had woken up late and the crowd had basically blocked him from getting to the library. As he had been buried in books for study, he had no idea about what had happened back 'home'. The news hit him, not that anybody could probably tell given the crowds' own reactions to the rewards and mission offered. Troe had woken up today like it was any other...and learned that everyone from his own past life was most likely dead.

With that revelation he gripped his signet ring that he kept in his pocket tightly. It was the only reminder that he had been able to keep of his family and birthplace...Despite all they had put him through, this news still felt awful. He took a breath after what felt like several minutes, deciding that he would at least try to join up with a group planning on exploring his conquered homeland.

Xara has been thinking about the last few years, so much has change, it's strange considering most of his childhood was spent cooped up at home, having this kind of freedom is still a foreign concept to him. He walks around a bit, occasionally smiling at the sullen crowd, honestly not really processing the reality of the news being shared. He sees someone similar of his age, looking depressed and holding a signet ring, who then pockets it.

Xara approaches the boy, having no mind that he's a stranger. "Hey, where is that symbol on your ring from? I swear I recognize it but I'm not sure"
Xara points to his pocket and has a solid smile to him, violet eyes unmissable.

"Two hundred and fifty thousand gold???" Margot The Commoner's eyes sprinkled with avarice upon hearing that sheer amount of money.

With 250,000 gold, I can buy my own mansion. I can become anyone I want! I can be rich! I can... pay my maids and butlers and get people to do things for me!

Margot's eyes sprinkled with glee as she watched the man stop talking. "Me! Me! I'm an adventurer! I want in! I'm a born leader! You want me to lead the team, Mr. Herald!" Margot rushed through the crowd and stepped in front of the Herald.

Her eyes sparkled. She didn't know what to expect next, but she knew one thing -- she wanted to be the center of attention. This was her time. This was an opportunity that she had been waiting for all her life. All that learning so she could cast her combat magic -- now was her chance to prove herself, to show off to the world! She was made for this. The world was made so she could take advantage of it! The ocean monsters and the undead army -- and whatever -- were made so she could become a heroine worshiped by millions -- forever! History books would be written about her upcoming adventures! She would be rich and loved by many. She'd be so famous and revered that the king will beg her to marry him! She could already imagine it. Children with the king. Becoming a queen -- no -- an Empress! A Saint! And all the money in the world that accompanied. Wealth, power, respect, glory!

The glory will be mine!

Now that she thought about it, the 250,000 gold coins were just a step in the ladder. A small step. She could already imagine the next phases of her life: becoming a heroine, waving to the parades in her honor, having a family with the king, being praised for her good looks and charming deeds! Glory! Honor! And above all else, fame!!!! Oh, the fame!!!!

She would fight uneven battles against unbelievable odds. Oh, to have her body ravaged to within inches of her life as a testament of her brute strength! Oh, the pain! The pleasure! She'd be overwhelmed... but she'd survive and learn and grow, and become.

For a moment, she was actually curious about her mission... to earn that 250,000 gold coins that was rightfully hers. She didn't care about the world, or... those poor people who she must rescue with honor and glory. Nor did she care what will happen to the world. All that mattered was that she got what she wanted.

Oh, to be through trials of combat! I'm gonna fight monsters!

Who or what were she fighting? She didn't care. What monsters? What army? What deadly assassins? She would overcome all of it. It was her... destiny.

Suddenly, she felt a little tired. Why am I tired?

The high from my time weed must be wearing off. She quietly looked around and scanned the surroundings for a place where she could be unseen. And if nothing works, I can always have fun with my precious fun stuff. She patted her bag of time weed that was in her pocket, and snickered to herself.

" - In the meantime, the king has asked that our citizens provide shelter and aid to the refugees fleeing their home as we could only hope they would for us."

Ha! Kavius thought to himself that he had no actual home, so the prospect of having to share a humble abode with refugees was easily dismissed. True, it was sad that so many people were displaced due to circumstances outside of their control. On the other hand....It had nothing to do with him! Kavius raised the apple he had purchased earlier to his mouth and took a bite, keeping his left hand on the hilt of the sword he had placed on his left hip. Kavius did not believe himself a master of the sword, or any other weapon he had some experience in for that matter, but he believed he knew enough to get himself through whatever would come his way. Not to mention......Kavius turned his head slightly and took only a moment to take in his companions appearance. Breathtaking, Quick with a jibe, excellent companionship, Samara had all the right qualities in Kavius's eyes to travel with him. He preferred going wherever the wind took him, and some time ago the wind took him and Sam to Faroth - En.

Faroth was nice enough, Kavius supposed, and it was not as if there was a stream of constant threats at all sides. For the time they had spent here, Kavius and Sam had gotten into less scrapes than they had before arriving on the islands. Some days they spent trying to make easy money, other days they would laze around much to the disgruntlement of Sam, and some days they would even train. Kavius had learned plenty from his mentor in the art of fighting but truth be told had yet to be in too many life or death struggles. Fights were not uncommon, and even at times fights with their weapons drawn and ready to use, but Kavius and Sam had been more than enough to deal with most of whatever came their way. Only a handful of times have they retreated due to the fact they had to and not because Kavius became bored of their current engagment. When they tired of the long day the duo fell back into deep slumber, sometimes in inns, sometimes wherever they dropped.

After Kavius finished listening to the announcer, he began to ponder his next course of actions. He did not have anything planned for the day, if anything Sam was probably going to drag him out for more training. Kavius did not hate to train most days, in fact when he put his heart into training he always felt that he would learn a bit faster than others. But today he did not feel like putting in all of that effort. Kavius turned back to Sam and his face lit up like a over eager child.

"Sam..Sam listen. I know what we're gonna do today."

Kavius drew his sword out of his sheathe and raised it high.

"Sam, we are gonna be heroes that get paid. Like a lot of money.....and save people sure.....but also get paid."

Why were they here? Sam didn't want to be in this city. It had been so long since she had been here but the place was still filled with rotten people. Even more so now that people had been run out of there homes. But she had seen into the eyes of some of those refugees a few days ago and they seemed to be making a mental turning point in there lives. She did want to laugh but restrained herself at the mention of the citizens offering shelter to the refugees. The people here didn't have room in their hearts for starving children so the fact that they'd be forced to share their homes with newly homeless strangers was a nice thought to her. She believed that if the shoe was on the other foot the situation would likely be exactly the same. The bad part about this was that it'd be harder for the street rats and homeless people in the city to get food or money to live. No one was to likely to offer them a place to stay and that pissed her off.

Partially because of that but also somewhat because of the large bounty that cam with doing the task, Samara felt a strong desire to give it a go. If she did this job she'd be entitled to a large sum. Using that she'd easily be able to help all the homeless and parentless children in the city. Maybe even the island. However she'd have to split the money equally with any others she worked with. Maybe Kavius would want to do this as well? She looked over towards him and saw how eager he looked. Seemed that they may be on the same page for a change. The teenager(?), still unsure as she doesn't know her exact birthdate but that didn't matter, smiled at her partner in battle, "It's just scouting, Kav. But that money is very tempting. I guess if we're doing this I need a bit more practice. When you're done shouting to the world let's go see if we can find a ride?"

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

It was a busy day at the Devil Busters clinic. In fact, it was the busiest day she'd had in months, but that was how Ashley liked it. Ashley was hard at work, focused and working fast—not that an outside observer would know. The room she now stood in, bedding only a single patient, was filled with the sounds of turning gears and rattling chains. There were no clockworks in her clinic, however—such noise, as was indeed the best term for it, would only muddy the results of her work. The short, black-haired, dreary-eyed mage stood atop a small stool, inspecting a collection of magic circles floating above her unfortunate client. Rotating. Intersecting. Ticking, like clockworks.

Ashley sighed. A lifeless sigh, from which neither disappointment nor relief could be discerned.

"W-Well? Can you help him?" asked the worried mother, standing beside the mage, intimidated by the collection of illegible runes.

"Faster than I could explain what's wrong with him, at any rate," Ashley replied dryly, in what she had hoped was—approximately—a reassuring tone.

With a wave of her hand, a möbius strip of magical symbols made itself available to her. Pressing her finger against one of the magic circles, it made a harsh, mechanical sound, and the whole "machine" ground to a screeching halt.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

The ticking grew louder. So loud, in fact, that the room began to vibrate, and glassware flasks of various medicines resting on a nearby cart became visibly disturbed, their contents sloshing, but their wide bases thankfully holding them in place. A silky-black, sleeping cat with bright yellow eyes raised its head with a soft "mrrp," saw the chaos unfolding in front of it, and quietly lowered its head to reclaim its disturbed rest, as though nothing at all were happening.

Swish, swish, swish, swish.

Ashley began swiftly removing the rogue runes from their places, replacing them with her own from the möbius strip, ignoring the distressed cries of the woman beside her, who did not know why Ashley had suddenly gone from doing nothing but staring at the circles in silence for several minutes to rapidly changing them, all while the sounds of doomsday all around them grew louder and louder. What must have felt like several minutes of swapping out runes had probably only lasted about twenty seconds, and then, suddenly, with one last swish of a finger, the magic circles she had halted earlier began rotating in the opposite direction, and the ordeal was over—or so it seemed.

"I-Is it over?" the woman asked, her voice shaking.

"How long ago did his symptoms start?" Ashley demanded, ignoring the question.

"Eh?" the woman responded with surprise mixed with dread. Was it not over yet? "Almost two days ago, now."

"Is that so? Then, his symptoms will disappear in about that time. You're free to go."

"Truly?" The woman began weeping, and pulled the mage into a fierce embrace, threatening to yank her from her perch.

"Woah, easy there," Ashley protested, feigning surprise.

This was par for the course. Few "normal" civilians ever had any contact with curse magic, and when they did, the risk of being found out usually kept them from seeking treatment, for a multitude of reasons—social stigma, sure, but mostly ignorance. Where did curses come from? Were they cast down by the Goddess, or by witches? Were they contagious? Could they even be cured to begin with? The answers to these questions were everywhere and nowhere, both and neither, sometimes, and yes but actually no. Eventually, the dense scholar had given up trying to explain it in technical terms, and just told people what they needed to hear. Yes, it can be fixed. No, you will not have to drink a yucky potion. No, it will not hurt—but it usually will not be quick, either.

This is the fifth time I've seen this same curse today, Ashley thought darkly. Lady Madeline must know I have somewhere to be later today.

"How can I ever repay you?" the woman sobbed.

"Just the usual fee is fine, thanks," Ashley replied flatly.

"Eh? Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes. If you have a hole in your purse, pay an orphan to sew it shut for you."

Suddenly, the cat was roused again. "Mrea-e-e-e-e-rw!" it exclaimed, bounding toward the door. That could only mean one thing: Lord Clive has arrived.

"Right on cue," Ashley groaned, with the fatally resigned tone of someone about to take a beating. "In my office," she sighs, gesturing at the blonde-haired, green-eyed, silver-armored lordling standing in her doorway, before he can get a word in edgewise.

"Good morning to you, too, Ashley," he replies smoothly, with an invincible smile, waving to the woman and her son as he walks down the hall.

"...I guess I'll just... leave it here?" the woman muses to herself, leaving some silver coins on the medicine cart.

Ashley unlocks the office door—not with a knob and keyhole, but with a combination-style magic sigil—and enters a room that, were she in her manor, would qualify as a library. She deftly weaves between stacks of tomes, following a rat-trail from the door to her desk, with scattered papers on either side of the well-trodden path. She then sits down in her leather-bound chair and watches Lord Clive carefully follow the same path, being much more careful than she was to not step on anything.

"Come to sweep me off my feet and carry me away to some conjured-up, suspiciously easy 'emergency' mission?" Ashley inquires with forced interest.

"I won't lie to you; I've considered that angle," Clive responds with a dash of please remember that I'm your superior.

"Oh, is that right? Perhaps I've taught you well," she remarks with feigned surprise.

"Is there nothing I can do to convince you not to go?"

"Oh, there are plenty of options for one with fewer scruples than you. I know a surefire way to keep a woman off the front lines for, oh, six or seven months."

"I get the picture," Clive politely cuts her off with a raised hand. "—and I think that ship has sailed."

"Hopefully, my ship sails today, too. I have a few scruples myself, but I'm a paragon study of evil. I guarantee I've thought about the risks I'll face more than you have, and weighed them more accurately. Besides, no matter how you look at it, I am the only one who can take this assignment. I'm—"

"a liability in the noble court—a stain on your reputation—the most expendable curse expert in all of Mokata. Is that it?!"

The two met each other's eyes with fierce glares. The tension in the air was thick enough to cut—but something else was in the air, too.

As the ringing in Clive's ears grows louder, he realizes what it is. Magic.

"Not this time! Ararat!" he shouts, pointing at Ashley, and causing more than a few loose papers on the ground to be shuffled.

"Tch! I had those organized a particular way, you know? Now my system is a~ll messed up," Ashley groans sarcastically.

"How does it feel, witch, having your own hex turned against you?" Clive taunts, having been successfully distracted from the topic at hand.

"I feel pretty good, actually, m'lord..." Ashley taunts back with a sultry voice.

"Oy. What kind of hex was that?"

"Oh, nothing special. Just something to make you a bit... bolder," she continues suggestively.

Clive shoots her a completely unamused look, calling her bluff.

"You're such a bore! Leonhardt, the contagious-courage hex," she replies, giving up.

"Oh, is that all. ...Wait. How many times have you used that on me?" he asks suspiciously.

"So you admit that you're a worrywart," she ambushes.

"I said nothing of the sort," he fires back, immediately and bluntly. "I want you to reassure me with words, not witchcraft."

"It's a hex, not witchcraft," Ashley corrects in a voice dripping with manufactured condescension. "Like I've told you before, witchcraft is the domain of potions, pharmaceuticals—"

"That's beside the point!" Clive exclaims, making time to consider his next avenue of attack. "You should know, Lord Mikhail is going too."

"Mikhail? ...Oh, your sulky friend," Ashley pretends to realize, a little on the back foot now.

"I think you meant, 'hunky' friend," he replies with his trademark, winsome smile.

Ashley's face twists into a fiendish grimace—the first genuine spark of emotion she's had all day. "You mock me, boy? If you're so inclined, I can re-activate your curse at any time—all I need is ONE finger!"

"Oh, no, not mocking," the Lord replies cordially, giving Ashley no territory. "I'm just saying—hypothetically—if you did have a crush on my dear friend, that would be one of your cute points."

"...Actually, I think your curse may have re-activated on its own. Here, let me treat you. Don't be shy. Just gird your loins, and come over here..."

"Sorry, but I'll have to exercise my right to refuse treatment this time. I want my daughter to have siblings, after all."

Ashley's mask disappears like the morning dew. "Eh? You—you have a daughter? Your wife is with child?"

"That's right. If she's so inclined to learn magic, I'd like you to tutor her. So, you have to promise to come back safe, alright?"

"Ugh, fine, you sappy fool. Just don't name her after me or something stupid like that. You'll turn the court into a dumpster fire."

"All right, then. It's a promise," Clive replies with more than an ounce of smug.

"...You win this bout. You guard your heart well from my hexes. I fear that soon I will have nothing left to teach you."

"Oh, no. It's you who has improved, in the art of banter. You lost when you threatened to curse me, though."

"...Sorry," Ashley whispers, trying not to look sheepish.

"See? You can be cute when you're honest."

"Maybe I'll curse you, after all," she threatens in an unconvincing tone.

"Save it for later. We have a job to do, after all."

"Indeed. Shall we go?"

---

"Make way for Lord Clive Maxwell Carradine IV! Make way!"

As the cry rang out, the civilians flocked to the sides of the street. Clive rode atop a white horse, as the top nobles do. Behind him, and with a handful of Knight Commanders at either side who outranked her, Ashley rode atop a dark, reddish brown horse. With her disheveled civilian physician's robe discarded and casual Monday bedhead sorted, she was now in her sharp black cloak and purple vest, with her ponytail tied, and her rank proudly displayed on her arm. She looked like a proper knight, now, and no less intimidating than the ones in full armor. She was obviously a warlock of some kind—though if even one of the commoners knew what kind, they were extremely privileged to know.

As another knight riding atop a light brown horse emerges from a nearby alley, Ashley signals him, and he merges into the formation.

"Report."

"Sir! It's as you said. Lady Madeline's mercenaries are following us."

"I knew it. The poisoned drink at that last party, the sheer number of patients today... she shows her hand too plainly."

"What do you want to do?" Lord Clive interjects, continuing to face forward to maintain his appearance. "She may know which ship you plan to board."

"I've anticipated that. I already know what I want to do—lose her," Ashley replies as she breaks formation, heading to a tavern near the square.

"Ashley! I've told you not to talk to me so casually in public! ...Did she just call me a loser?" Clive asks his right-hand man, befuddled.

"My Lord. I believe she said, 'lose, her,'" the knight clarifies, as respectfully as a knight could.

"Ah."

As she enters the tavern, the usual hustle and bustle stops abruptly at the arrival of this stern-tempered, high-ticket customer.

"Barkeep! Attend me!" she barks in as privileged a tone as she can, clapping her hands together.

"And what can I fix you with, sir?" growled the bearded, dark-skinned man at least 2 heads taller than her.

"I have need of a fireman, and a coffee—black," she orders, speed-walking around the bar to the stairs to access the second floor—for nobility only—not bothering to correct the "sir" on her way up.

"Right away, sir."

Ashley had barely begun to take stock of the situation in the square from her vantage point on the balcony, before her coffee arrived in record time—with all the complimentary extras she could expect for her social status. "Your coffee, sir," the maid says simply, as though the honey and cakes weren't there, bowing low as she did.

"I won't need the milk—but thank you for thinking of me, my dear," Ashley says smoothly, thanking the maid the only way she knew how.

"Oh my. You're quite welcome." The maid scurries away, hiding her blush.

Ashley listens to the herald's announcement, narrowing her eyebrows a little at the news. State of emergency? Likely destroyed? You're not mincing words, are you?

She is distracted a little by the mage, making herself the center of attention. Ashley couldn't quite make out what she was saying, but her energy was plain to see—both with physical eyes, and spiritual ones. Ah... such a rich quintessence. How enviable, she thought.

After a few more sips of her coffee, a man who could only be described as the average of all the men in the realm walked up to Ashley. "You sent for me?"

"Fireman. From which way does the wind blow, and how swift?" she asks innocuously.

"Thirty knots from the southeast. Your ship would be lucky to reach her destination anytime soon," the man replied, his expression even blanker than hers.

Thirty? Ashley thought, baffled. That's enough high-class sellswords to fill a deck's worth of men's quarters... and women's quarters, just to be safe. Surely she's not so bold as to stage a mutiny? I'll have to change ships after all... and delay the one she's hijacked, too. What a pain.

"Thank you. You are dismissed," she casually tells her code-speaking friend.

"My pleasure," the man drawls, bowing low and taking his leave.

To the outside observer, Ashley looked just the slightest bit annoyed, like a typical lordling whose extravagant vacation just got slightly delayed for a day or two. But her inexpressive face was doing her a favor for once. Inside, her mind was racing. Her high rank afforded her one slight advantage: she could board a peasant ship dead last—no one would be allowed to follow her, unless they were of a higher rank—but she would need to fabricate an excuse to board a peasant ship instead, ideally one that left her with her dignity as a knight intact. Perhaps... an inspection? On the other hand, she would lose any chance of remaining anonymous. What to do...

She plays with her hair using her left hand, as if she could physically pluck ideas from it—not noticing her bad manners, with her elbow on the table, greedily wolfing down cakes with her right hand. She looked troubled, not that anyone was likely to notice or care.

In the morning Mikhail was up training like always, sparring with some of the other knight candidates in the city. The last match wasn’t a very long one at all. Mikhail parried his opponent's weapon, used his lance to sweep his legs out from under him, and pointed the wooden tip of his training weapon to the man’s throat. He sighed and retracted his weapon and went to put it back on the rack. He heard a few of the others talking as he went. “That guy Mikhail is good. It’s a shame he’s such a pretentious brat.”

Another one chimed in with the first. “Yeah if he was less of a sulky prick he could probably become a great knight no problem. Too bad he’ll probably never change.” The small group laughed to themselves as Mikhail left the training ground to go about his day. Definitely wasn’t the first time he’s heard things like that. He learned it’s better to just ignore it rather than let it become an actual problem.



After the daily combat training Mikhail went out into the city to occupy his time, still a bit sweaty and tired from the training. He would probably try and find a good drink somewhere till he got a little distracted. Some kind of huge crowd had gathered in the city square. He almost couldn’t hear the announcement over all of the clamoring. But what he heard definitely caught him off guard. The entirety of Irinoth was possibly destroyed? In that short a time? He’s heard rumors but nothing that seemed substantial, at least until now. But damn, that reward sounded mighty nice. Even if he had to split it amongst a party that would be considerable. He could make a life for himself, somewhere far away from the responsibilities that his name brought along. Away from all the memories. He smiled as he walked away into a nearby bar.

“Barkeep, get me something strong.” He said as he went upstairs without even waiting for a response. Mikhail was not known for being a good customer. On his way up to the second floor reserved specifically for nobles he passed an average looking dude that Mik eyed suspiciously as he walked past. Once he got there he saw someone that he actually knew for a change, Ashley Wycliffe. She looked a little peeved to be honest. Mikhail couldn’t hold back the temptation to bother her as he sat down next to her. “So what’s got the Dark Doctor down this time around? Another troublesome hex? Or are you finally figuring out how you’re gonna curse me?” He said with a cocky smile.

@BreathOfTheWoof

"You've got quick eyes." Troe said, not too interested in answering the actual question. "I had it out for an instant at best." He took note of the stranger's violet eyes, but in his own scholarly pursuits he had seen much stranger things. Many in the crowd had begun to separate into their own groups to form recon teams in an attempt to claim that reward money for themselves...The longer he thought, the more he realized that he had to at least go to see things for himself.

"Hey, if you're planning on taking this job you can follow me a bit. Eventually I'll need to find someone with a reliable means of getting there. Bad as it sounds, I'd bet fifteen hundred gold half of these idiots are going to sink themselves along the way." Troe said back to the violet eyed stranger. Only an idiot would throw their lot in with the first few people close enough to hear their voice. A bounty that size likely meant that the higher ups didn't expect a high success...or survival rate. Of course, that made sense given the kingdoms that were wiped out were filled to the brim with proud warriors. Whatever these invaders were, the signs pointed to them being immeasurably dangerous.

Many of the adventurers here seemed to have the wrong idea, this wasn't a job for a large group of mercenaries. What they needed was a research team and a few bodyguards. Anything more would attract undue attention from a thus far undefeated army. Deep in thought, Troe entered the bar to grab a black coffee. He'd probably need it to keep this train of thought going. When he eventually received the drink, he sat down and tapped his fingers on a table for a few minutes, not even really noting if the violet eyed stranger from before had followed him. Given the relatively young age of the countries within the archipelago, they had no legends or known prophecies to point to such a cataclysmic event...even if this certainly felt like the kind of scenario that would involve such a contrived explanation. He knew for a fact that none of the books in the town's rather large library mentioned warriors from the ocean, nor had any sailors mentioned such a possibility any of the times he had tried to explain their other wive's tales.

"Maybe if Rjaskav or Solvnir wrote their damned folklore down on the occasion there could be something there." He muttered, the frustration clear in his tone. Of course he knew that neither civilization did such a thing. Word of mouth prevailed in both countries, and so the already unreliable tall tales would only be made exponentially more unreliable if they truly existed. Troe downed the still hot coffee angrily, not even paying any mind to the burning of his mouth and throat. If anything the pain helped derail the near tangent he had almost gone on in his head.

"Oh Sam. Sam Sam Sam", Kavius spoke in a melodic voice as he sheathed his sword,"We..could go look for transportation. It's very tempting yes."

Kavius spun around and faced Samara with his left hand on his sword hilt and right hand against his chest balled in a fist.

"Listen Sam, did you not hear the hairy loud man? So many people are suffering so much right now, and there isn't a damn thing we could do", Kavius spoke then took a step toward her and lightly and jokingly punched her shoulder,"We truly should be grateful for our fortunatate health. I mean come on lately all we have been doing is either training our butts off or doing some dreadful work for an abysmal amount of coin. Like when we were commissioned to retrieve that locket and ran ended up having to fight a depressing wizard and his golems. The magic guy was so sad! I mean.....I truly think he was crying for most of that fight."

The Past,
The situation in question happened within their most recent jobs, where a Nobleman had sent out flyers for a job. It paid absurdly low for what this man could apparently afford to offer so there weren't any takers. Sam had convinced Kav through her usual persistence. Kavius suspected that it had something to do with the details that had been with the flyer. That the locket had belonged to his late son, who had passed away recently. Kids seemed to be Sams soft spot in certain cases, not always but he guessed in this case it was enough for Sam. So after meeting the Noble Lord, and learning more of where the locket was located. Unsurprisingly it was in a not more than a days ride cave. Apparently the locket had been stolen, and when the bandit in question was located and apprehended he claimed he been unable to sell it so soon and had dropped in further in the cave. Since the man did not have the locket they were forced to believe him, since the locket had not turned up anywhere else where the thief could have hawked it.

Kavius set out with Sam in tow, on horseback, and made it to the specified cave within a days travel. Kavius could barely contain his boredom, saying that there was no way they were gonna find anything except some bandit droppings. Maybe a bear. Probably a squirrel. The cave was much deeper than it seemed, seeing as it contained a latch door to an underground passage of sorts. Kavius was very little help, complaining about how dare whoever made this passage build it here. He wanted to nap in the sun. There was no sun underground. Samara, in her own way, dealt with Kavius and was successful in keeping track of him, so he didn't wander off out of curiosity. Which was of no real threat considering his lack of interest in what they were doing. They faced several small creatures, which seemed to be made out of some sort of dirt or mud. After about twenty minutes of traversing, Kavius had almost about had it with this underground labyrinth when the duo came upon what seemed to be the near end of this underground of mystery.

A wooden door, with three bars near the top with lighting spilling out, came into view. Kavius and Sam watched as an almost sickly looking man in a robe worked on what appeared to be a rather large Golem. Kavius had only read about them before, but he was able to identify it immediately. Unfortunately another smaller golem creature behind them made an increasingly loud noise, alerting the magic man and all of his creations. Battle commenced immediately, and it was a spectacular battle. Kavius was only somewhat unable to remember much more about the Golems he read about, but held his own ground. Sam had his back, in her own way, but was unable to take down the magic caster at the root of this problem. All the while yelling mostly incoherent words, while at times being able to make out self deprecating claims. When he wasn't doing that, he was screaming his agenda.

All in all the battle was longer than it should have been but short over all. Kavius abhorred how this lunatic would dare interrup his nap time, and asked him what gave him the auhtority! In response Kavius was struck in the face by the enemies attack, while Sam finished off the opponent. They would find the locket amongst several possessions that were deemed "not that guys stuff". The duo would return the locket, while hording the rest of the valuables, but to their surprise they would receive no payment as the locket had seemed to receive a crack on the outer shell. That was not the entirety of their adventure, but Its what Kavius mostly remembered.

Back in the present,
"Sam this is gonna be an awesome awesome adventure, but would getting to work right this very minute help at all?"

Kavius turned on his heels and began to walk away.

"Im sixty percent sure I saw a tavern close by that seemed lively. Lets go look for it, or we can go looking for some street wise urchins to adopt and train."

"Mmh?" Glancing over her shoulder to see who was disturbing her train of thought, recognition flickered in her eyes. If Ashley was honest, she had considered bumping into Mikhail "accidentally." What she didn't expect was for the "accident" in question to come to her.

"KHH-HM." She looks away briefly, making a sound like she was clearing her throat, before swallowing her food.

"Mikhail! Milord," she adds, defaulting to her better social graces.

Mikhail was not just a looker (in Ashley's humble opinion). As the son of a Duke, he was also her social better by just shy of six degrees. Even in the "good old" days—a time from before they met—Ashley had been the daughter of a Marquess, still putting her somewhat beneath him. Further still, she was... well. Her existence was documented, at any rate, but if the two families had ever discussed marriage, she would not have been invited to that table. All of her siblings were better than her, seemingly at everything that nobles needed to be skilled at.

Well, they weren't anymore. Now, they were all missing—presumed dead. Perhaps even hopefully dead, for someone with a mind as grim as Ashley's—but her father was definitely dead, and that was all that really mattered to people like Lady Madeline.

In any case, this was now his table, not hers—and she was his guest, not he hers—for those keeping score. She adjusts her posture accordingly.

"Please, be at ease," she says smoothly, though with his confident look she needn't have bothered trying to soothe him. "I do not curse people, much less my social betters—even if I had the means." Her eyes, were they normal, would show no falsehood, as she sincerely meant what she said. Indeed, she did not know him as well as she'd like, and thus she lacked the means.

The problem was that her eyes were not normal—neither was her voice, nor her demeanor. They betrayed hardly a thing, besides what Ashley wanted to project—at least to the average person who paid little attention to the finer details of other people—but to the discerning eye, her entire being evoked a constant feed of falsehood. She was like a fake person, pretending to have emotions, voicing thoughts that were not her own. It was a subtle effect—one could be easily be forgiven for thinking she was simply poker-faced—but to someone who knew what she was and how that all worked, it was clear to see. They were the eyes, voice, and thoughts of someone given over to the abyss of the dark arts. Either the darkness was sucking the life out of her, or at best, everything she ever did was an act, leaving the "real Ashley" a complete mystery. She was not openly malicious, as the stereotype usually went—unless she chose to wore that mask in battle, to feed her fell arts with the fear of her enemies. No, it was simply as if she wasn't all there.

Mikhail had gotten a taste of this at the last party they both attended.

The unreasonable demand of the day, which was being foisted upon his shoulders, was to demonstrate his progress on his combat ability. Having seen Ashley on stage several times before, he would finally have the dubious honor of joining her, as she was to be his opponent. An organ played as she stepped onto the stage, casting her as the "villain" in their fictional battle to the death. As she was expected to lose, Ashley fully intended to let him win—what she did not expect was that her charity wouldn't be necessary.

Ashley plainly refused to use her fell arts on the stage for all the nobility to see, which would make her a sitting duck if she didn't also have some skill with the sword. However, with Mikhail's superior strength and stamina, using the oppressive range of his lance to fully leverage every advantage he had, Ashley could do little but dance a dance of death around him, avoiding his strikes as narrowly as possible for the full dramatic effect, and throwing out the odd attack whenever he would overextend. Suddenly, the crowd would gasp as Mikhail's wooden training lance nicked Ashley's face, drawing blood. Then, after wiping her face, she would reveal a positively villainous smile, and the nobles would go wild, all the while a full orchestra was going on in the background. It was quite the extravagant display—though Ashley and Mikhail shared one speck of camaraderie in that they both found the whole spectacle quite droll.

Eventually, Ashley would become too exhausted to continue, and Mikhail would be declared the winner. Dripping with sweat, she would be forced to stand uncomfortably close to him and raise his arm up in the air with her own—and then, also, she would be offered the poisoned drink by Lady Madeline—a drink she could hardly be seen refusing—and then again, afterwards, have to act the part of a drunkard, as if she hadn't secretly also drank an antitoxin while no one was looking—and finally, excuse herself, with apologies. The whole night was pretty mortifying overall, and it was also the only close contact she'd had with Mikhail in a long, long time. They only spoke to each other very rarely. Certainly, they had never been alone together. This was the closest she'd come to such an encounter.

Realizing this, Ashley steels herself. "Haven't seen you since the last party, handsome. You're faring well, I take it? Am I right to assume that the events in Irinoth have piqued your interest as well?" she inquires, every word dripping with all the dangerous charm a woman of her ilk could muster.

Margot entered the tavern's bar with a muddy look on her face. She was so hungry and tired from what she had been "doing" in the past two hours. Her hands instinctively patted her goodies pouch to reassure her mind that the remaining "good stuff" was still there.

Man, what a wild ride! And loads of fun, too! But all good things have to end at some point, so...

Margot shrugged to that fact, but now her mind told her how hungry she was. And sleepy. The first thing she saw when she entered the bar was all these wooden tables everywhere. Naturally, she walked to one of the tables and sat down on a chair.

Before long, a tavern wench with... um... sizable endowments... appeared next to her. "You're new here, aren't you? What would you like?" said the blonde.

"What's the cheapest meal you have on the menu?" asked Margot. "I'm a bit tight on money."

"Um.... cookies and eggs?"

"How much is it?"

"Two silvers."

"I'll have that," said Margot. "You may go."

The tavern wench frowned and then politely left.

Margot sat back and took out her wallet. Aside from a few coins, she was flat out broke. Gosh, I wish I hadn't spend all that money with the time weed dealer last week. But I think it was a good thing to do, because I doubt I'll find a black market here. Unless... I can find someone who knows the usual connections.

Margot was, in fact, new to this area of town. In fact, she came here from three towns away. Word of mouth traveled fast, and she knew the king was hiring adventurers. I am way too tired to think about glory and fame and my legacy to the world. I just want to eat and sleep.

As she waited for her meal, she did her usual routine when she didn't have anything to do -- and was not in a private enough space to do the "things" she wanted to do. The routine was given to her by her mother and it was this: Take five minutes each day to think about your long-term goal. And if you still feel excited about reaching it... if you still considered it worthy... then continue walking towards it. If not, set another goal.

Margot's long term goal had three components. One, she wanted to find a suitable husband. The best she could possibly find. Two, she wanted to become famous. Three, she wanted to have entertaining adventures.

For a woman of 23, she had already had three boyfriends, none of which ended with her being married. She did not want to remember any of them. Aside from the sex, each had been a waste of time. A playboy, a gangster, and a pimp. If history has proven anything, it's that I know how to pick my guys.

She thought about whether she was on the right track to become famous. 250,000 gold coins would definitely make her famous, but so was the fame from accomplishing the missions. And if she could get the ear of the king...

She spent the next few minutes thinking about her skills as a combat mage, but eventually too tired for even that. By the time her meal arrived, she was already drifting to sleep....

I'm too tired to even think about whether my goals should be my goals. I guess they're good? I guess I'm still excited for them? Maybe tomorrow, I'll think about it.

She ate her food.

The young archer pinched the bridge of her nose letting out an audible sigh. That 'job' was a total farce. She couldn't believe she let herself think for a second some noble would have the decency to at least thank them for retrieving an heirloom of their lost son. "Can we not talk about Lord Dungbeetle or whatever his name was? That whole situation made absolutely no sense." It had maybe been a few weeks ago but Samara was still pissed. She did chuckle though as she put her hand in one of her pouches. She didn't take much from the prick but she got more than what the original offer was.

But alas, the past is the past, and the present only happens once. She did have to admit that Kav sounded smart for a change. Instantly hopping into the task would likely not be for the best. Finding companions was more important right now than getting a seat on a ship. "There are a few taverns nearby. Most of them sell swill and only have your typical guy who thinks drinking is a day job. There is one just through the crowd over there with some of the good stuff." Sam looked right at Kavius giving him a devious grin. "Say, you ever had Matokan Coffee? If you haven't it's got the kind of kick you wouldn't expect. Follow me! Just remember that if they let ya have some only drink one cup."

Samara then grabbed Kav by the wrist to lead him through the crowd of mercs, soldiers, and adventurers. She led him through to the other side then pointed to the tavern in question. "Best tavern in this part of the city. The people who really know how things work tend to go there. Was never allowed to try out any of the merchandise before but couldn't hurt to try." Sam started walking towards the tavern. She vaguely remembered the last time she tried going there a noble had seen her and verbally berated her till the majority of the building was laughing her out. She had the last laugh though as later that night she'd pick his pockets clean when going home for the night. She let out a content sigh as memories of the city were flooding back around every corner.

Mikhail was satisfied as he watched Ashley scramble, especially considering from what little he knows about her she likes to always maintain her social grace and it was slightly funny to watch her rush to put herself back together again. Also kinda cute if he was being honest. Not that he’d ever admit that to her though. His expression instantly started to sour as she started using titles and manners and all of the things one is expected to do in the face of nobility. At least with the people he was practicing with they made no illusions that they hated him. But with nobles, you could never tell.

He studied her face carefully as she spoke, just as he does with every other noble he meets who tries to make a good impression simply because of Mikhail’s title. At first glance she seemed absolutely genuine, kind. But for some odd reason that was actually the problem. It was always an act. None of them cared for Mikhail as a noble just as a way of moving up the social ladder in one way or another. He had already received a couple of marriage proposals that he had outright refused. Of course without his father’s knowledge. But he assumed Ashley was in a similar boat to say the least, faking her smile and everything about hearself right now. But even though there was something off about it compared to most that he couldn’t put his finger on. Perhaps there actually was something else to her had yet to see.

While he had never, as far as he knew, seen the real Ashley he feels he had gotten somewhere in that regard. During the last party when he had gotten thrust onto the stage for a match against her. Honestly he found the entire thing annoying and boring. If he had to guess, despite never seeing her actually fight before, that she probably used magic normally. While she was skilled in the sword for sure she didn’t seem to be able to match him in stamina and strength. Of course he didn’t hold back really, just enough to make sure he didn’t break any bones by accident. She was still a knight captain overall, he wasn’t going to underestimate her and risk getting his ass kicked to Irinoth and back. Of course the attack that drew blood was a slip up on his part not that anyone seemed to care. But that smile… honestly it chilled Mikhail a little bit. He couldn’t tell if this is how she actually was underneath that but being able to bring out another side to her was oddly satisfying and was in all honesty the only fun part of that night. Of course he ended up excusing himself not long later that night. Parties were not his environment of choice.

“I’ll put up with it at those parties if it makes you feel better, but drop the ‘milord’ and all that anywhere else. Getting called that makes me want to gag.” Mikhail held up a hand to signify to stop. He honestly hated those titles but if he tried to complain at one of those parties he would never hear the end of it. And seeing as Clive continued to drag him to those events he would end up suffering far… far more in the long term. “There’s no need to butter me up and lie to me like that, but yes I am very interested in what’s going on down in Irinoth. And it’s a coincidence that I ran into you because I was going to ask you if you’d care to travel with me. After all I’m strong enough to hold my own but I need someone who’s smart enough to figure things out once I’m down there. And of all the people I can stand in this city, you are definitely the smartest and most familiar with whatever potential evil is plaguing that damned island. So, what do you say?” Mikhail still wasn’t entirely sure he could trust Ashley but it’s not like he could go at it alone. Everyone else in this city that he knew was either going to backstab or leave him the moment things got scary. At least with her he knew she was strong enough, at least mentally, to not do the same.

Eh?! He'd invited her—no, moreover, he'd planned to from the start? Score! And of all the people he cared for, she was the smartest?!

Yes, yes and yes! It's a date! Ashley wanted to scream, but now that she was on guard, she restrained herself.

"Hoho... You're too kind," Ashley answers, turning the smile she couldn't hold back into a weirdly improvised smirk. "but I'm not lying, you know? Of course, I can't be completely honest, or I'll lose my edge... and I can't drop the 'milord' just yet, either," she says with a dour tone, looking around. "This isn't exactly a private setting—but if we do end up alone somewhere, I'll call you whatever you want. Heh."

"Caught in my subordinate's web, my friend?" Clive interrupts with a false smile as he approaches the pair of sulky nobles.

Behave yourself, won't you, my dear? his eyes seemed to suggest as he loomed over their table, looking at Ashley.

Oh, screw you, she returned with a narrow-eyed glare.

"If it isn't Lord Clive—the fly in my ointment. Too bad I can't catch you in my web," she says sarcastically.

"That's very true, and also, not the slightest bit unfortunate," Clive replies, rubbing it in a bit.

Mikhail wasn't privy to all of the details, but the two seemed to have a longer history together than they would let on. They bickered like siblings—for all the importance she seemed to place upon her conduct as a knight, she didn't seem too concerned about holding back against him. Ashley's face softens, though, when she remembers something important.

"We have a situation. There are some... very dangerous criminals planning to stow away aboard the Santa Lyrica," she says in a low voice.

Clive looks skeptical, and a bit confused. "Huh? Where does this news come from?"

"Sources," Ashley replies flippantly. "Wind's foul—thirty knots from the southeast—so please, take your time looking for them."

No one would have paid Ashley's comment about the weather any mind, especially not on a day like this with such grave news overtaking everyone's mind. Unless, of course, they were eager to sail to their death as quickly as possible. However... that wind report was wrong.

Strangely, Clive's face seemed to indicate that Ashley's odd remark explained everything. "Right. I'll inform the knights," he says as he turns, leaving quickly.

Ashley smiles wickedly. My sincerest apologies, Lady Madeline. Your ship is about to be delayed. She turns to Mikhail.

"As you say, I'm the smartest woman in your life," she boasts, her words full of biased intent. "so I already have a plan in motion. Shall we?"

---

Between the nods of beckoning sleep, Margot might have caught a glimpse of two fetching young gentlemen as they walked up to the bar together, the dark-haired one looking rather pleased with himself compared to his sulky blonde friend—and, in the warlock's over-tailored uniform, complete with a family crest and three bright red stripes on the armband signifying his rank, probably over-dressed, too.

Retrieving a fully loaded coin pouch, he counts out the fee for his and his companion's drinks—plus a little extra—and slides the coins across the bar to the barkeep. This was unusual behavior for a noble. Many of them did not fully appreciate the value of money, and would simply lay down a pile of coins, in a showy fashion. If you made a particular face of mixed confusion and displeasure, you might even be able to trick them into increasing the size of the pile. Indeed, the barkeep was making just such a face. "Something amiss with your order, sir?" he grunts, glancing down at the giddy young lad.

"Not at all. Please, send my regards to the staff—they have the best coffee and cakes in the capital," came the smooth, silky voice.

With a line like that, the barkeep would have to take his loss like a champ. "It's our pleasure, sir. Good day to you."

"Good day."

Ashley honestly felt bad for her manners. They were good cakes. Didn't do the staff any favors, eating them like that.

Margot sat up. She felt something. Something strong within the magical currents. She had spent years cultivating a sort of detection skill that enabled her to "feel" when another magic user was nearby, and now this sense was tingling. It felt like... a tension so tangible she could cut it with a knife.

It gave her energy when she had none. What is that? Who is that?

She searched around the bar. She saw two grown men standing next to the bartender. Her eyes focused on these two men. One of them had very little magic, but the other one.......

Whaaaa....???
No.... it's not possible.

She sniffed it. That is some serious magic!

Even without the magic, she knew she was in the presence of nobles. Just look at what they're wearing! Those are some seriously well dressed commoners. They look like fashionistas, or some type of costume showmen!

As her eyes took them in, she labeled them as Mister Dark Hair @Emeth and Mister Blond Hair @TheDemonHound. She could not tell which one was better dressed. They all looked like showmen! The only difference was that Mister Dark Hair had a lot of magic, whereas Mister Blond Hair had little.

Hmm.... nobles, huh? She smiled devilishly. Maybe if I mix with them well, they might pay for my trip to the southern islands? Maybe they'll pay for my night at the inn so I don't have to sleep in the stables or somewhere dirty? It never hurts to try.

Maybe they're adventurers, too! Adventurers with deep pockets!

Margot didn't consciously think of it, but she was well aware that it was necessary to band together with all sorts of people in her quest to earn all that money -- because she couldn't do it alone, even if she wanted all the money for herself. She was also well aware that she did not care about the world or the southern islands. She just wanted to go on exciting adventures and become famous.

Even before she got up, her eyes already sparkled with the idea of glory, fame, and honor. Because of all this, she suddenly formulated a plan... to use these two guys so that she could get what she wanted in life, and to get paid for most of the 250,000 gold reward that she knew she deserved.

Time for some serious sucking up.

She tidied up her clothe, put on her best innocent expression of a young woman who just wanted to get help and to help others reach their goals -- whatever those goals were -- and said to the two men near the bar, "Hi, maybe you two know a way to get to the southern islands?"

Xara followed Troe, genuinely interested into what he has to say. "Actually I personally know a sailor with a crew in this city, he owes me a favor after I saved his ship from capsizing one day. We could talk to him, of course, we're gonna need allies, but I've got that covered."

Xara also decides to respond to the other comment Troe made, seeing it as it's related to his reason of going. "That's actually a reason I'm going, if the country is ruined than there's going to be old books and tomes that nobody wants anymore that've survived the assault, it's my personal duty to recover them, as a runesmith myself."

Yah, that's right. Despite being so young, Xara is actually a very exceptional runemaster, after all, spending all your time indoors gives you plenty of time to sink into your hobbies, and for him, it was practically an obsession. Anyone who would give a good glance at him though could guess, he's got a custom utility belt that holds various engraved stones, as well as slots for 4 different types of tomes, all of which are filled with books of different languages.
It's also unique of him that he's wearing a purple tunic, a teal cape going to the back of his knees, and solid black pants, he dresses like an extravagant noble despite very few ever truely knowing him.

Xara, after making his comment to Troe, has an idea. He stands up on the table, trusting his weight will never be enough to break the furniture. "Hey, I've got a means to get to Rjaskav, all I need is companions!" Everyone stares at Xara, who doesn't seem bothered by it, strangely.

Kavius was delighted when Samara took the lead ahead of him. Sam had firmly grasped his wrist and simply guided him towards the correct path to take, which was something Kavius adored about Sam. That she knew him pretty well and still believed she had the authority to do things like grabbing him and leading him to places without asking. Granted to be grabbed was simply something abhorrent to Kavius and to be led away in a direction he didn't choose? Kavius would shudder when thinking of such a horror to befall his personage. But for the same reason he did not fight against this at the moment was because........Sam was Sam. Nothing more needed to be said or even dwelled upon in the mind of Kavius. While traversing through the crowd on their way to the bar Kavius had spoken to Samara even though the rather large dwelling of similar minded individuals and people selling their wares made it difficult to be heard.

"You know I dont that I drink that often Sam-a-lam", Kavius more or less tried to yell while resisting the urge to laugh as he spoke, "Or get that drunk really. Except for when you switch out my mug, and yea I know you do it! I just always forget about it until after it happens!"

Kavius at first only wanted to use this as an excuse to go goof off and possibly spend a little money, but actually doing this job might be fun. Maybe? Sam seemed into it, so with that thought Kavius decided. Once they finished goofing off he would show a little enthusiasim about the job. Sure, when he gets bored Kavius guessed he would just walk away and find something else to do. Or just take a nap. He had not truly done any exploring since arriving here, which was something he truly enjoyed when done somewhere far away from cities and settlements, but in truth their money troubles were a constant issue at the moment. Kavius tried to not spend money frivolously but then again in truth Kavius assumed they would be very far away from civilization for the majority of their time spent here when the group first arrived. Especially not such a lucrative job offer as well. Since Sam had been able to hawk all of the stuff they "acquired" in that golem fiasco and get a decent price for a bit of it they were fine at the moment. It had not been too long since they had such a heavy pouch, but Kavius was just happy that Sam was overzealous with joy over their pouch.

The duos short travel came to end as Kavius and Samara arrived in front of the tavern. Samara relayed to Kavius that this apparently was the best place in the area for the best drink. Kavius could believe it, but he had not had that high of an opinion of most of the city already. Including this area. With a pep in his step and a smile that matched his mood Kavius skipped once to be ahead of Samara as they walked towards the tavern.

"Excuse me fair maiden," Kavius said to Sam as he turned his head so he could look at at Sam from his left side as they walked to the tavern, "but please allow me to walk ahead. Someone who is as precious as you should never ever walk into a building first. Its just manners." Kavius was failing to supress a grin when he spoke, Sam was probably gonna get her revenge for this public spectacle.

As first Kavius entered the bar, who was then joined by Sam a moment later, the wonderful smell that came along with a tavern hit their nostrils like a slap on the face. Not that Kavius was going to complain, it wasnt truly awful by any means. Kavius also guessed he should probably refrain from anything that looks like disrespect until they were both inebriated because clearly thats what they both had come here for. So Kavius looked around the Tavern for a moment, remembering at that moment that seeing so many different kinds of people did excite him a little at times.

"Alright Sam-a-lam, lets -", tried to say before he was cut off by a rather handsome fellow who had jumped upon the flat surface of the bar table he was near.

Upon words Kavius had never expected to hear words of recruitment for that scout job at this moment of time but, true to his own personal beliefs and convictions, Kavius instantly shot his hand over and gently pulled on Sams nearby wrist upwards until it looked like........someone was holding up the hand of someone else.

"Right here", Kavius said loudly. The reality was that Kavius did indeed mean it when he thought to himself how he would take the job seriously. Sam wouldn't hit him and they could use the money. This personal conviction was enough to cause Kavius to react physically as he did before stopping to think. "She volunteers...and so do I", Kav spoke with a slight hint of exacerbation in his voice.

While Mikhail wasn’t entirely sure what Ashley’s reaction to his invitation but he certainly wasn’t expecting that. She looked… happy? Or was she just smirking at him? He couldn’t really tell but he definitely didn’t think she was gonna start flirting with him like that. Wait wait no. What? MIkhail looked fairly taken aback and red started forming at his cheeks. It wasn’t that he minded per se, Ashley was definitely attractive after all. But he had to stop himself from getting too attached now. They were about to go to a potentially dangerous environment with unknown enemies. The last thing he wanted was for something to happen and feel that pain all over again.

He took a brief moment to compose himself and returned with a blank expression just in time for his old ‘friend’ Lord Clive to enter the room. In truth they originally became friends because Mikhail’s father and Clive’s father were close friends and while Mikhail felt he barely knew Clive, Clive apparently decided to keep him around all this time to a point where Mikhail just wasn’t able to refuse lest inciting the wrath of his own father. “Not at all Clive, we’re just planning our trip down South. I asked her to accompany me since I heard she was also planning on making her way down there.” Just like always he avoided the titles and forgo his social politeness he was expected to have. Thankfully Clive had probably dealt with this plenty of times by now.

Mikhail looked between the two suspiciously as they talked about an apparent danger. Potential criminals, sketchy sources and some weird code spoken between the two of them based on how Clive reacted. Though it seemed like everything was going according to Ashley’s plan. He definitely had made a good choice in asking her to come along.

“I think you're inflating your own ego a little bit there.” Mikhail teased at her as he followed her downstairs into the main building. “Though I suppose it won’t hurt to play along.”

Mikhail felt a little bad allowing Ashley to pay for his own drink but to be fair, he didn’t really have the source of income most nobles would expect to have. His whole stay at the capital to train was sponsored by his father and the man had been keeping a tight leash on his son even now to insure that he didn’t run off and do something stupid, as he was definitely intending to do. After all if he had a steady source of income he wouldn’t be so intent on going on this mission. While she paid for their orders another person approached and Mikhail eyed them suspiciously as they walked up. It was a girl, probably not too much younger than him. Definitely didn’t look like a noble from what he could tell. And she already started asking about Irinoth, what perfect timing. “What a coincidence, we were also heading to Irinoth. Perhaps we could bring you along if you can prove to us that you’ve got a skill valuable enough to warrant it. Of course, if my companion here is also alright with that.” He gestured to Ashley. While he wasn’t very excited to invite another person along, especially a stranger, but a group of two was probably not enough to guarantee safety in this situation. A small but efficient party would be perfect if they could find strangers that could prove themselves.

"Hm?" Ashley turned to the girl, recognizing her immediately as the energetic youth from before. Ashley also recognized that face—the face of someone looking for a favor. Putting the pieces together in a way she figured made sense, she feigned a smile.

"There are several ships departing soon. I suppose you'll need to pay your fare?"

Ashley only figured that the girl's desire to go adventuring was a clever excuse to ask for money. An unscrupulous noble wouldn't bat an eye at giving her a small pittance of coins if it meant seeing one less pair of cupped hands on the streets tomorrow, she thought darkly.

"I suppose it can't be helped, can it? Safe travels," she said as she handed over the coins, fully expecting the young mage to take them and run off to the market to buy some cheap stale bread, or whatever it was these 'charming' mice did with the money they 'swindled' from her.

Don't get the wrong idea. I'm just in a good mood today, she thought, as if praying to an evil god.

As she was, a man with abysmal manners suddenly stood upon a nearby table, announcing his intent to recruit as though it were a perfectly natural time and place to do so. In spite of his tactlessness, though, she found herself intrigued. The runes on his belt were not chosen carelessly, as though wearing something one's peers could not read were somehow "trendy." Despite his appearance, he seemed knowledgeable.

A fellow scholar? Never hurts to have like minds to work with... or, failing that, someone to upstage, she thought dryly.

"Such a bold entrance!" she remarks, loudly and hypocritically, eliciting a few chuckles from some nearby patrons who had witnessed her own entrance. "Care to grace us mere mortals with your assistance, O wise young scholar?" she petitions, clapping her hands at a modest pace that was neither sarcastic, nor over-enthused. "Indeed, I have need of an intellect as sharp as my valiant companion's steel," she flatters, putting a hand around Mikhail's bicep, to indicate which "companion" she was referring to—and what "steel" she was relying on.

---

Sitting in the corner of the bar, sitting alone, sat a bandaged one arm girl. She wanted to personally kick the dumbass that was standing on a table, offering a free ride for the "adventure". Having left the announcement early, she had already made her mind up on what she was going to do. It was only a matter of how precure a ride and payment for said ride, but this was a good opportunity and the fool didn't seem strong enough to force payment "Old bastard ships me off to this stupid fucking island, with no contacts or way to know what the fuck I should be doing. No money, no idea of the rules or laws that I should be "abiding" too. All he gives me is a fucking axe and slap on the back, really fucking classy old man, real fucking classy" she could see the fat bastard laughing his ass of right now with the other men from the village.

-Back in her home village-

Her father sneezed viciously in the middle of hearing scouting reports "What's that brat mouthing off about me now, I wonder" laughing out loud before going back to listening.

-Back in the Tavern-

"Where's the excitement in this town?!" speaking it out loud and drawing the attention of a group of five big men.

The biggest dumbass smirked, moving from his chair, or rather saving the chair from having to hold up the mans weight, and stood behind the girl, placing his hands on the table on both sides of her, trapping her from moving "Oh me and my boys could definitely show you something exciti-"

"Get lost, any excitement from you would only last five seconds, tops, even less for the other dickless boys you're sitting with" she said, bringing her mug up to her mouth, chugging it, before slamming it down, not even turning around to acknowledge him. The man looked back to his boys with a look of disbelief, motioning for them to come over.

The other men stood up, surrounding the table against the wall that she sat at "that's some tough talk for a slut with one arm, lemme ask you something, you charge half rate for your services?" the men howled in laughter, as did Tonka, making them stop confused.

"Are you asking because you cant afford a full price hooker? I mean I get it" finally taking a look at the men around her "you guys don't scream disposable income, despite the heftiness, probably couldn't even afford half pr-" a mug of beer was poured on her head, by the man who had originally approached her, making them all laugh again. By this time, the half of the tavern close to the incident had been paying attention to the men and the woman, a shadow seemed to cover the top of her face, obscuring the rage that her eyes would have betrayed her unnatural still body.

"Ah what no more jokes, well we're not done here, first I'm going to make you take those comments back" he said, reaching for the strap of her top around her neck. Moving without any warning, she pulled the man forward by his arm, and slammed the back of her head into the mans face, a satisfying crack coming from his now very, very indented nose. Falling to the ground, blood erupted from his covered face as he screamed, making his men stop for a second "YOU FUCKING BROKE MY NOSE!"

"Shut up, good heavens, all that fucking weight and height, for fucking nothing" she spit on him.

The already unsure men looked at their fallen leader, making him growl in anger "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU WAITING FOR? KILL THIS STUPID BITCH" snapping his men out of it. Tonka smiled, as they all rushed her, she kicked the table up, making its contents fly everywhere and causing slight confusion. Taking the small opening she made, she lunged forward at the closet man, delivering a drop kick and falling on her back. In one swift movement, she kicked herself up, preparing herself, however what she didn't account for was the man she kicked, to go flying into a group of drunken idiots looking for a fight. Sliding across the table and knocking over several patron's drinks, silence filled the Tavern.

"BAR FIGHT!" a random woman yelled out, causing the entire tavern to erupt in a drunken brawl. Tonka practically evil cackling at her accidental chaos.

"Now this is what I'm fuckin talking about!" throwing herself at the closest of the three remaining men, the man attempting to draw his sword, she kicked his hand back into the sheath and sent a blindingly fast spinning kick to the mans temple, causing him fall through a table. Taking a chair, she threw it out the two men rushing her, wood splintering everywhere. Tackling one of the confused men, he kicked her over him, sending her crashing into a table. Landing on her back, she somehow managed to save a mug full of beer, chugging it, she pushed herself up smiling big, this was the most excitement she had since coming to the island. Using the heavy mug, she used the chaos of the bar, to slip behind the two men, who were busy trying to prevent their leader being trampled. Smashing the mug into the back of one of the men's head, she spartan kicked the other man in his back, sending him into a huge beast of a man. Needless to say, the man didn't last long and now she stood back up against the wall, happy with this outcome and looking for target worthy of fighting.