Two translucent shells formed around Amulak, but against the sheer force of the infernal chopper, they were as effective as glass, shattering into a thousand pieces. Mana Shield, however, was a spell designed for damage reduction, not damage mitigation, and that, combined with Amulak’s END and the passive effect of his Bulwark Boneplate, was enough to reduce the damage taken all the way down to 43, the wicked blade slicing into his right thigh but stopping before it could crack the bone.

“C’mon man! Where’s your footwork?”

There was, of course, no way that the mud-drenched warrior would just retreat after that. In close-quarters, the necromancer simply didn’t have the tools to handle a chopper-swinging maniac. Ames and Klein, in the face of such barbaric violence, was a step too slow to intervene, while Raime, even as the world slowed further with the invocation of his Scout abilities, quickly realized this: he was still fast, but in these desecrated lands, his speed was no longer exceptional. Six slashes scored red lines through the muck, eliciting a holler of excited aggression from the warrior, but did little to stop them from grabbing Amulak by the throat and smashing him against the tunnel wall. It was only common sense, after all, to target the caster, and with all three tanks preoccupied in one fashion or the other, nothing could stop them from doing it two more times for good measure.

By the time the dust settled, there was an Amulak-shaped imprint in the wall, the mage himself having received another 334 damage from the three-hit ‘combo’. Still keeping a hand on Amulak’s throat, the mud-drenched warrior turned to the others, a bright red tongue flicking out to lick away the blood that splattered onto their face.

“And yes, I can fucking talk,” they laughed, sneering at Raime, before addressing the party more broadly. “Now, here I was, thinking y’all were gonna jump me, but now I see only two of you actually tried? Got some drama going on here? Some ‘oh shit, we fucked with the wrong guy’ vibes? What’s the plan, fellas? We gonna keep going til I turn y’all into zombs?”

There was a crash, as Magpie launched herself through the air and…into another wall, narrowly missing Klein and Ames. Self-inflicted damage lowered her HP by a shameful 54 damage, a tragic consequence of having more strength than she knew how to handle.

“And what’s her deal?”
_{@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee}

---

“Sweet. Let’s see…” Bortz made some finger motions, as if interacting with an invisible screen, and a ‘ping’ sounded in Ari’s head. A new window popped up, a friend request from Bortz. "...there we go!"

Droko raised a brow. “Vator’s not gonna like this.”

But Vator, tragically, wasn’t here.

…

Time passed on.

The sun arced closer to the horizon, dying the sky orange and magenta. Despite the lack of any healer, the trio of frontline combatants made quick work of the few monsters they encountered on the road, while Ari’s support helped patch the gaps that existed due to their lack of ranged attacks and magic as well. Against a giant vulture, the party had to resort to extreme tactics like throwing rocks at it, but other than that particular instance, it was smooth sailing. Long stretches of gently rolling roads, good weather, occasional chatter, and the song of nature made travelling more pleasurable than it seemed. The bodies of the Immortals fatigued at a much slower rate than reality, and the late lunch they had of steamed buns and pickled plums was surprisingly delicious.

It was strange, how even ordinary landscapes, the type that one could’ve seen with just a quick Google search, became something just a little bit special.

By the time the afternoon heat died and the nighttime chills were seeping into the hills, they had arrived at Shin-Jia. Man-Joji, ever willing to dispense knowledge, had spoken of the village as a rustic place, and it was certainly…rustic. Perhaps only fifty people lived in this community of old-timers and children, and the state of the wooden huts that made up most of the homes reflected that. Raised one foot up on wooden platforms, they looked to be a combination of lightweight and easy to repair, though consequently humble in appearance. There was a well that the village was centered around, as well as a river and a couple of gangly livestock that afford Shin-Jia some self-sufficiency, but going by what Man-Joji said, the majority of young adults had simply moved to Nyu-Taro or larger villages to work, occasionally sending money and goods back to their parents and children.

“To conclude,” Man-Joji said, hopping off his carriage and tying the reins to a withered husk of a tree, “Shin-Jia doesn’t have a proper inn, so I’ll be going off to negotiate with the village head for our accommodations. Feel free to take a look around while you wait; I’m sure the children would love to hear some stories.” The merchant paused, then winked. “Just don’t go running off with my wares, ok?”
_@GreenGoat

---

Even as the world around him slowed to the turtle's pace, Raime's eyes widened in realization when he observed the mud man. Despite being at a speed that would put sports cars to shame, the mud man was still significantly faster than he was. He was at least able to land all six strikes against their adversary...with little result other than six shallow cuts appearing through the pitch black mud and an excited holler. Each cut had the equivalent driving force of six full grown adults behind it! He had to switch up his tactics knowing that the sword wouldn't be doing anything beyond glorified lacerations. Immediately sheathing his sword and willing his nuclei into an active state, Raime was ready to unleash the wrath of God on this mud covered demon...but the force of the mud man slamming their caster into the cave wall three times in rapid succession caused the dust to hinder the scout. Losing visual contact meant that there was a rough 50/50 chance of him hitting only the man and him hitting both Amulak and the mud man; Raime wouldn't risk hitting Amulak with a thousand and two hundred points worth of undefendable true damage. He didn't have much of a choice other than to wait until the dust settled.

The mud man's sneering face was only met by the scout's arm cannon as he talked to him and the rest of the party. Raime could have ended the fight then and there but he had a feeling that if he were to fire, the mud man would notice his killing intent and use the caster as a human shield to mitigate the true damage. He had to lower the mud man's defense somehow. "Clearly. What the fuck even are you?" Then Mags shamed herself by slamming into a wall near Klein and Ames. A drop of sweat dripped from his brow as he thought of attacking then, but the mud man's were still locked with his. He wasn't letting his guard down for even a split second. Strangely enough, he asked what was with Mags. "I don't know either." Raime answered honestly.

---

---

---

At first, Klein thought that the mud drench thingy was just another low-level monster. It was only until Amulak body completely collapses into the cave wall that Klein realizes his recklessness. And without a doubt, this guy is saying some fighting words for a person within throating distance.

"Shut the fuck up, you piece of turd." Klein said before starting to close his distance to the mud warrior, arms raised to prepare for the coming tackle. Perhaps he is wrong for feeding the trolls the attention it craves, but who gives two cents? His body glowed with [Boomer] and [Stout Heart] activated as Klein slowly increased his velocity. Not that a 24 Agility and 13 Dex gave him much speed.

"Choo CHOO!" Klein laughs, rushing forward.

Amulak al Acturus (Stanislaw)
HP:653/1030 MP:1300/1490 SP:336/336





"Oh fu-" Was all Amulak could get out after his shields fell and the fucker attacking him just kept going.

"Ow." He groaned as he reeled from being slammed into the wall, the loud asswipe's hand still on his throat. Amulak narrowed his eyes as he collected himself, trying to formulate a way out of his situation. That entire sequence of events had taken out about a third of his HP so far, and that was with one of the hits mostly blunted. Fuck him, he really needed to invest in some hybrid shit later. Or find corpses. God damn, he really needed to find something to make Weisshaupt worth using.

"Hands off, dickhead." Amulak rasped through the grip on his throat, using his words to form an incantation and fire off a Mana Bolt juiced up with both Mana Control and Adept of Curse. Twice, with Parallel Incantation. Pew, pew.

-24 MP

[Ranger]Ari Reina Caladis(Theresa)

---

"That's fine. Take your time." Ari stretched, straightening out her tail. "You guys can go on ahead if you want. I'll keep watch over the wagon."

She sat down on a large rock conveniently nearby, stretching out her feet this time. It was... odd? Ari wasn't tired, but she was 'tired'. The same feeling you get when you read for too long and become tired. Perhaps older gamers playing games with a long walk or drive included with their games would know that feeling.

In any case, she wanted to sit down and be off her feet for the moment. And even maybe give her a chance to peek into the wagon itself.

There was a huge burning feeling to dash off and see the rest of the village, but it felt... Well, it felt like a village and she would feel self conscious running around someone's home. Like running along the part of the stream where your auntie's house was.

aмeℓιa

_{HP: 760/860 - MP: 528/660 - SP: 566/710}
^{_________________} _[] ^{_________________}
The thing was, Ames thought the guy was just another player. While she pretty much ignored the brute who'd just crashed next to her, Ames had heard what she said. From her own thoughts, Magpie's comment while flying in, and the man's own words - he really did seem like another Immortal. Even though it'd only been a couple of days of playing, they'd all already seen just how much could change about a person while playing. Ames still didn't understand why he'd be hanging around the dark, depressing caverns but if he was a player, or even just a Rien, maybe they could reason with him. Maybe even get some information from him!

Or maybe he was just a jerk.

She bristled when he mentioned making them into zombies. Like hell I'm letting anyone turn me into some gross walking corpse! Now that Mags was back the flaming shield return with her - at high speed, flying through the air on a much more controlled path toward the man's head. Maybe she'd be able to knock some sense into him. Although, it probably wouldn't matter if he was still under attack by their party.

"Cut it out!" she hissed, mostly at the stranger. Ames reasoned that even though Amulak attacked him first, the necromancer's spell hadn't even connected. Neither had Mags' kick. It was the muddy man that escalated, so it was him that Ames turned her glare on. "We're trying to find some missing people in here and I dunno if you've noticed, but you're extremely freaking suspicious!"

With a powerful crash, Mags slammed into the wall. Yea. She probably should have aimed that at something. With a powerful hurk, blood was hacked out of her mouth as she felt (not really, her sensitivity dulled it) the collision rattle her bones. Well. She at least learned something from doing it twice in a row. What that something is was up to debate.

She took a short break against the wall. Really, if only Amulak wasn't as trigger happy. Then, Mags could have just thrown herself at the man and played it off as an accident. Hearing the smack being talked about her from the man, she yelled back at mudcorpse-like man.

"It's called limit testing honey, look it up."

Really, she was going to shit rock this man if it came down to it. Well. Probably not. She'd probably lose against the wall if she continued her testing.

“Oh, fancy Nuclei you’ve got there,” the mud-drenched warrior said as Raime’s trump card was revealed, maintaining his grip on Amulak even as the mage blasted out another salvo of arcane power. The Darkness element seeped underneath the mud like some sort of virus, undoubtedly dropping their max HP by 74, but the actual damage dealt didn’t even so much as warrant a response from them. Any magic user’s offensive spells were dependent upon the amount of MP consumed, and while certain passives like Mana Control allowed one to ‘upcast’ their early-level spells, that wasn’t enough for Amulak to do significant damage. 24 MP’s worth of power was good for whacking low-level mobs, but hardly noteworthy against the physical behemoth that pinned him against a wall.

Certainly, it wasn’t even enough for them to stop talking. “And yeah, I’m a fucking Immortal. Ya know? Like what that wall-crashing dunce said?” They laughed again, this time at Klein’s relatively slow approach, more like the crawling of a tank through muddy trenches than the roaring charge of a semi-truck. It did enough to add another element of chaos to the scuffle though; Raime now certainly didn’t have a clear shot on the nameless player.

Ames’ flaming shield didn’t operate linearly though. Arcing through the air, the spirit-seeped disc swept for the warrior’s head, only for Amulak’s own body to be swung towards it. With an anti-climatic ‘thwack’, the disc bounced off the necromancer’s head, dealing 0 damage thanks to friendly fire mechanics. Klein soon ended up against that same wall, his shoulder slamming into the ragdolled mage’s back like a bull through a matador’s cape: Amulak went swinging back, while Klein ended up almost plastering the wall behind. Throughout all this, the mud-drenched warrior remained bemused and lightfooted.

“Wait, cut it out? I dunno where ya got your maths from, but I’m counting six of you and one of me. Disorderly six with shit builds and no organization, but still. C’mon. Yah think I wouldn’t go ape shit immediately with these numbers?” They hefted their chopper on their shoulder, as if contemplating just beheading Amulak before he cast any other annoying spells. “Extremely freaking suspicious is pretty rude too, y’know? Like, hello? Maybe I came down here to fulfill a goddamn class requirement? And then, after I get out, I’m greeted by you six goobers who decide it’s PKing time? Like, sure, it’s a game, and it’s no hard feels if you really wanna kill someone playin’ solo, but wow, don’t pretend you’ve got some moral high ground for this.”

They brushed some of the mud out of their right eye, revealing a pale tapestry of patchwork skin, spliced together with stitches.

“So hey, make up your goddamn minds already. We fightin’ fighting, or ya wanna go apologize to me and then get back to whatever quest you’re doing before?”
_{@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee}

---

The afternoon sun warmed her clammy flesh in a way that exercise couldn’t as Ari rested on the rock. There was a numbness to her legs after so long on the road, a pleasant buzz that came with thoughtless physical activity. In a way, nothing much really happened this day, outside of some nice scenery and some tense encounters with monsters. It was very much like the Stranding-type games that got popular a decade or so ago, a slice-of-life experience that was so very similar, yet different, to her own life in Malaysia. The quiet buzz of the small village sounded around her; the sloshing of water, the crackling of woodfire stoves, the muted laughter of children, the off-pitch song of an old woman. Ten meters away, a bird she didn’t recognize, one with distractingly yellow-and-green plumage, hopped up and down upon the branches of an evergreen tree, its trunk warped and bent like a hunchback.

In the north, she could see clouds forming over the tops of distant mountain ranges. From the south, the wind carried with it the faint aroma of rust and sweetness. Man-Joji had disappeared into one of the larger huts, the others had gone off to explore and do some trading (though Vator was dragged away by the other two for it). A lone child, scruffy haired and wearing a kimono two sizes too large for their frame, crouched by the river, a fishing rod in hand and an empty bucket beside them. Occasionally, they skirted glances towards the non-human entity lounging on the rock beside an outsider’s wagon, but they turned away whenever Ari’s own gaze turned towards them.

Shin-Jia was a quiet village with little to take note of, the nighttime chills encouraging most to simple hunker back down into their homes. There appeared to be plenty of opportunity for her to do her sleuthing.
_@GreenGoat

---

With so many friendly targets in the way, Raime was forced to deactivate his nuclei and revert it back to its inactive state as armor. Much to his surprise, the mud covered immortal didn't even bother to react much to the group's individual attacks and opted to just keep talking to them as if nothing notable were happening to him. This guy was bad news, but he was also willing to let things slide as he knew this situation was all a big goddamn mess of a misunderstanding. Like a certain Shonen character of yore, talk-no-jutsu had to be implemented before things escalate any further. Dying now would only prevent them from making ample preparations for the event and God as his witness, he wanted a replacement arm. Preferably a kickass mechanical steampunk one from the Ryoku-Jo he can tinker with.

And dying here would only prevent him from getting that arm sooner.

In an instant, Raime's killing intent dissipated and all his active skills deactivated. "Let me begin by saying that my name is Raime Braun and I wholeheartedly apologize for my friends trying to kill you...but admittedly they aren't 100% to blame in this situation. You looked like some sort of badass area boss or mini-boss that rose out of those bottomless tar pits when we first saw you. Didn't help in the slightest that you had an imposing and menacing aura. But regardless of my personal feelings, I apologize once again on behalf of my group and hope that we can settle this amicably." Raime punctuates with a polite and respectful bow of the head.

---

---

Amulak al Acturus (Stanislaw)
HP:653/1030 MP:1301/1490 SP:336/336





Oh. Oh, shit. This was a player they were attacking? And one clearly noticably higher level than them. Crap. That's awkward. Thankfully, whoever this was didn't seem particularly bothered, nor did he take it too personally. Probably because they were so much weaker than the guy.

Yeah, no. He wasn't continuing on with this if they had the option to end it here. If there was nothing else to be done for the day, he'd be all for trying his luck against this dude for shits and giggles, but they still had a dumbass to find. Amulak groaned slightly as he extricated himself from the wall he was hurled through, raising both his hands in a concillatory gesture.

"Our bad, our bad." He coughed, still working through the pain. "Like he say, we thought you were mini-boss or some shit local to area. If we were not already on task, I would want to keep going, can only learn PvP by doing. But we are looking for dipshit friend of ours. Don't suppose you have seen someone around here horny for snake ladies?"

[Ranger]Ari Reina Caladis(Theresa)

---

It was peaceful enough that she could stare at the sky and almost believe Grandma would call her in for dinner any time soon. The peace, the sound of the stream gently rushing along, even the sound of birds chirping amongst the trees. There was an almost overwhelming urge to curl up in the sunlight and just nap. An impulse almost drowning out her burning curiosity inside that wagon.

Tail twitching with anticipation, she glanced around for a moment, just in case the merchant came back, and stuck her head through the back of the wagon.

---

With his body plastered on the wall, Klein started to regret his decision. His image of ramming the mud warrior into the wall did not become a reality. Instead, it was his that stick on the wall. The knock back was unexpected from a mob as he didn't recall any monster able to push him back while [Stout Heart] was being active. And as such, suggest the difference in strength between him and this no name low life monster.

Fine, maybe not a low life. Definitely a no name though.

"PSSSH, MAG. What now?" Klein asked his comrade, who seems to suffer a worse outcome compared to him. And as he waited for a minute or two for an answer that would never come, the situation back there seems to die down a little bit. There aren't any flying bodies or muffled attacks. Certainly no more holes on the walls though, which is a good thing as Klein was this close to runaway from the fight.

"The one thing we can do, Klein." Mags responded from the darkness.

With a great sprint, she charged the patchworm immortal. However, right as she came into view, her body dropped to the muddy floor. With five points of contact being shins, knuckles, and forehead, she slid towards the man in an act of utter prostration. Her body began to collect the ick on the ground, piling on as her back feet dug into the muddy earth to counteract her brutish strength.

"Kabedon!" She yelled with a furious amount of intent. She didn't realize that what she was actually doing was a dogeza. Though, an actual kabedon in this situation could have worked... Well. If ol' Patches was against a wall, it could have. It just needed to make his heart flutter.

“Never seen someone go mudbathing, huh?”

The warrior watched, vaguely bemused, as most of the party said their apologies in turn, with varying amounts of sincerity or formality. That wall-bashing girl in particular remained a pretty little riot, and all in all, he felt satisfied with how everything was resolved. No five new corpses, but at least they’ve all been nice about it. Nodding in approval and definitely not flustered by Magpie’s flying dogeza (after all, this was nothing compared to the triple axel dogeza), he took a brief moment to savor psychological victory, before tossing them a bone.

“Now, I dunno about horny for snake ladies, but there was this one edgelord in particular who was going around the tunnels, muttering about purging the darkness that laid within for the sake of his goddess. Bumped into him a few times, and last I saw, he was headed towards this old underground village thing.”
_{@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee}

---

What did not happen was Ari instantly having her head cut off or for Man-Joji to suddenly appear behind her with some ominous words to say.

Rather, once the catgirl stuck her head into the wagon she was greeted with the sight of...well, rolled up fabrics. Some had fancier patterns than others, while others smelled of faint perfume, the essence of oranges and the like. A few looked exceptionally fluffy, but all of them looked like they'd fetch a good price. There were, however, no physical signs of the Rien that Xu Fu had initially detected.

And it was curious too, why a merchant would peddle fabrics to a city-state soon to be at war.
_@GreenGoat

---

"Not in this world...or place for that matter." Raime says with a shrug. Wakeford being a resort/spa town, made Raymond pretty familiar to the services the sleepy but cozy town could offer to tourists and the locals alike. It also helped that Charlotte sometimes dragged him along for her infamous spa dates. But he'd never really considered taking a dip in bottomless unholy tar pits in near pitch darkness underneath the malformed roots of a tree that contained a malevolent eldritch entity be a relaxing experience. But returning back to virtual-reality, the pale patchwork of a man briefly reveled in his victory before giving the party a metaphorical bone for their compliance.

"Ah, that description fits the bill well enough. I suppose we'll be dealing with goat people and skeletons next then. Heh...quite an adventure this rescue mission this became, huh?" He mused to himself before letting an awkward silence to pass. "We're grateful for the information you've given to us...but would you kindly let go of the caster so we can go our merry way and you can go back to doing what you were doing prior to this fiasco?" He says while scratching the back of his head in a slightly embarrassed manner.

---

---

aмeℓιa

_{HP: 760/860 - MP: 594/660 - SP: 638/710}
^{_________________} _[] ^{_________________}
The last couple things the mud covered man said really put things into perspective. Yeah, Ames' party was comparatively low level and discombobulated, but there were a lot more of them and they'd attacked him first. Ames felt her face heat up in shame and her shoulders sagged. I guess that was pretty rude, yeah.

It felt like they'd been playing for a year already when it was really what - a couple days? One would think they wouldn't be "immersed" enough to make that mistake, but context clues to figure out who was a player and who wasn't were a lot harder to pick up on out in the field, or dens of pure unadulterated evil like this. The entire place still had her on edge, that much didn't change even when they'd managed to smooth things over with the guy. The guy who still didn't have a name, she should probably ask so she wouldn't have to keep mentally referring to him as "suspicious mud man," but it was a little late. Being on edge was a flimsy excuse for how things went down but at least things were settled now. Hopefully.

"I'm sorry too," Ames offered with a sigh. She summoned the shield that bounced off of Amulak's head back to her, extinguishing the flame and letting the part of soul that'd been in it return to her. She was already backing away slowly toward the cavern's exit. "This place is getting to me, I dunno how you guys can stand it!"

Amulak al Acturus (Stanislaw)
HP:653/1030 MP:1326/1490 SP:336/336





Purging the darkness for the sake of his goddess...? Yeah, fuck it, that sounded like Lew anyways. Roll with it. Amulak shrugged with the unaffected nature of someone who hadn't just come close to getting his shit kicked in hard. Well, harder than it had already been. He'd been handed worse defeats in his pro gaming career. Outside of his last match, there was the time he'd shown up to IEM Katowice hung over as hell after partying hard the night before and threw a perfectly winnable match against that dickhead Canadian about six years back. Man, had that been a shitshow.

"Information is very helpful, thank you. That is probably dumbass we are searching for. Don't suppose you can point us in direction of underground village?

[Ranger]Ari Reina Caladis(Theresa)

---

Carpets was it? Rolled up and very nice.

For Ari carpets were something of a novelty. Many if not most households where she lived primarily uses linoleums or ceramic tiles for their floors, with maybe some mats at certain doors to wipe feet on. There didn't seem to be anything more of interest save for these carpets rolled up. Maybe they flew or something? Would that technically make the merchant an arms dealer if they sold these for war?

Unable to fight her impulses, she sneaked inside the wagon, unfurling one of the fluffiest by simply rolling around with it, tail twitching with glee. Surely there might be something rolled up in them that necessitates her unrolling them, right?

“Oh yeah, sure.”

With that, the mud-drenched warrior released his hold on Amulak, allowing the mage to fall onto the ground with a ‘pomf’. They reached out and interacted with a window that only they could see, red eyes flickering back and forth through various details, before finally saying, “The ruins are up and east from here. Backtrack a bit, then take the left turn down this mossy tunnel, climb up the cliff, then the second right, then keep going through and you’ll make it out through this honeycomb-looking tunnel system. That should bring you about, what, twenty meters above the ruins? Should be able to figure out the rest from there.”

He grinned at Ames’s own reaction to the place, flashing a set of pearly whites. “Dunno what’s up with you, but I love this place. God the atmosphere’s great for some good ol’ fashion hacking and slashing. But yeah, sounds like y’all aren’t looking for shit here, so go on, skedaddle!”

And so the party did.

Leaving behind their unfortunate, yet ultimately helpful encounter with the mudbather, the party headed on, conversation between them quiet and largely inconsequential. Over time, their Resources would regenerate again, leaving them with only the memory of the short skirmish, and perhaps in another few days, another few weeks, another few months, even that would be forgotten. Through the desecrated tunnels, the cold dank and the clinging shadows, they walked, climbed, and slid until their destination revealed itself before them.

The eastern cavern, home to the remnants of an underground ruins, was closer to the surface than any of the other places they’ve visited before. Perhaps a few hundred years ago, a sinkhole had been what dropped the village into the depths of the Blasphemed Tunnels, and over time, the roots of the withered tree above had caught and coagulated soil and lesser vegetation until a scattered roof formed overhead, where the white fog of the grove above leaked in, letting some natural light as well. Scattered spotlights lit up various sections of the ruins; mossy heaps where wooden structures once have collapsed, rusted sculptures of some metal framework, and crumpled reminders of where stone walls may have been. From the vantage point they had within the honeycomb tunnels (perhaps openings used by some bug-like creatures that were no longer present), the party could make out movements within the ruins as well.

Amulak and Ames, with their supernatural senses honed by their differing disciplines, were naturally drawn to the southwestern section of the ruins, where the pure-white bones of the skeletons stood in contrast to their filthy surroundings. Though inanimate and all just laid out in unassuming heaps, a keen eye could tell that their skulls were opening and closing, teeth clicking together in a facsimile of speech. Scattered broadly over around a rotten estate, the skeletons didn’t look like they were a threat, but perhaps it was simply a matter of proximity. Anyone who played a horror game would know to treat dead bodies as possible threats, after all.

Raime, his physical senses sharper than most, picked out the presence of the goat-headed monsters that the necromancer had recalled before. Taking the entire northern section of the ruins, they seemed to possess some degree of human intellect and were even disturbingly human in form. Every single specimen looked to be male, with the bare chest of a muscular human and the furred limbs and hooves of a goat, accompanied by a goat head that looked twice as large as it should be on a body their size. Walking around with hunched poses, they stoked fire, worked leather, and affixed the skulls of various other monsters onto stakes, as if establishing their own territory. Occasionally, bursts of activity would catch his attention as well, the scout watching as two or three of the goat-headed monsters would break into a violent brawl, their fists blasting chunks of flesh off each others’ bodies until one of them fell and were promptly eaten by the other. Violent, bloody business, brutality crystallized into further revulsion with his realistic visuals setting.

It was Magpie and Klein, unburdened by any particular ‘sense’ granted by their jobs, who spotted that motionless figure sitting atop a withered tree that sprouted out from the center of a mostly intact but heavily dilapidated building. Wrapped in a dark cloak and cradling a sheathed katana that occasionally sparked with lightning, their face was turned to face northwards, trained on the boundary between the north and the southeastern portions of the ruins. Corpses of goat-headed monsters, numbering almost a dozen, cooled upon the cold stone of that same invisible boundary. A guard then. A familiar one.

Lugh.
_{@Shovel@Searat@Psyker Landshark@OwO@Yankee}

---

Ari’s head remained connected to her head as she quickly scampered into the cramped wagon. Inside, it felt as if the floor of the wagon was higher than it needed to be, but a sturdy bottom may be what was needed to hold up the weight of all the carpets heaped on top. Rolling out one of the fluffiest ones wasn’t much of a great experience though, as even the most luxurious feeling one just felt more like a mat rather than anything that one could sink their exhausted feet into. Better than hard stone, perhaps, but nothing meant for a rich man to have. Surrounded by these carpets, however, it was clear that more than a few of them smelled old. Moldy may not have been the right word for it, but there was a definite smell of dirt and moss.

A strange smell for sure, when they haven’t even spent a full day in the wild yet.

But another problem emerged soon enough. Her ears perked up at Man-Joji calling out behind him in a foreign tongue, before footsteps sounded closer and closer to the wagon. Ari had seconds at most to respond, whether to come up with a lie or to hide herself. Escaping undetected, certainly, would be even more difficult than those two options: while her speed was superhuman, such speed was without a doubt loud. Whatever evidence of misdeeds Ari looked for was not yet found, and the merchant who expressively forbid interaction with the wagon was now approaching.

What was she to do?
_@GreenGoat

[Ranger]Ari Reina Caladis(Theresa)

---

She was met with disappointment almost immediately. It wasn't at all the luxurious feet spread that just sinks in when you try to step on it, but the rougher carpets that tried to have an air of luxury. There was nothing within it as well; no hidden weapons, rock tile npcs or anything within them.

Flying carpets was out.

Her tail jolted straight immediately, puffing out thrice their size as she heard a familiar voice speaking in an unfamiliar tongue. That was too soon, and if she was to be discovered now... . But she still had enough time. Her mind racing, there were a lot of choices she could have taken, but the one she took was of course, the most logical one.

Rolling immediately into the unfurled carpet, she rolled into the pile of carpets, and pulled in her tail.