The young druid was completely helpless. She could only look up and gasp as the swarm attack. Before the moment, there was a split second where she couldn't help but wonder if the swarm was attacking her only because of the Faerie Fire...



Either way, Amaryllis fell unconscious, overwhelmed by the pain from the swarm.

---

Between the Behemoth and herself, they were able to take down the first swarm. They seemed to be especially vulnerable to the Behemoth's attack that glowed with radiant energy. But they did not have time to celebrate their small victory. The second swarm had flown down and attacked the Wooden One. Iris wasn't entirely sure what had happened but the Wooden One has fallen, and the swarm lost its glow. The young druid needed medical attention and quick.

"Heal her if you can," Iris told the Behemoth. She wasn't sure if he could heal, but he seemed to have radiant power that she has mostly seen with Clerics and Paladins.

Meanwhile, she made her way toward the second swarm and slashed once more with her sword. Hoping to distract the swarm from attacking the fallen Wooden One and the Behemoth, she continued her attack with an additional punch with her free hand and a kick.

While his face remained grave, there was a hint of satisfaction in Vigil's eyes as he and the zephyrite finished on the first swarm. He gave a slight swish of his tail as he turned to face the second swarm, ready to lunge into battle once more... only to see the creatures descend upon the wooden one. She fell to the ground, causing a jolt of panic to go through Vigil. Without thinking, he rushed into the fray and stood over her, looking her over to check if she was still alive. A second jolt of panic went through the Behemoth as he realised she wasn't breathing...

Wait, did Wooden Ones even need to breath? Confusion mingled with the panic, and Vigil found himself freezing up as he tried desperately to organize his frenzied thoughts. Once again, it was the Zephyrite who managed to snap him out of potentially losing himself to fear, by ordering him to heal the Wooden One before attacking the second swarm. Vigil let out a huff. Well, he supposed that was one way to know for sure if the Druid was still alive. He placed a claw on the woman's shoulder and attempted to heal her.

The healing proved to work. Amaryllis takes in a breath of air as the healing light brings her back to consciousness. She sits up and looks to Vigil. She quickly thanks him,

"You have my sincerest gratitude,"

Then she proceeds to stand up. Looking around, she realizes that healing will be needed. So, she decides to prepare to heal instead of going to strike the swarm again.

She takes in a deep breath and focuses. Her arms rise up and move to arch and curl upwards to the sky. Her form begins to change.

Normally, when a Wooden One Druid changes their form, it would usually be into a plant version of an animal. But that would not be the case for Amaryllis.

Instead her body begins to shed light, and brighter points appear on her joints and body. Lines connect those brighter stars, and soon the people and the swarms would behold Amaryllis in the starry form of the life-giving constellation: The Chalice.

Now that she is prepared to heal, she takes a moment to partake in the Blessings of the Rain. Her wounds close as the rain falls onto her wounds. However, the rain wouldn't heal the scar left behind...

He moment he was engulfed was one of enormous pain. He could feel every beak, every claw tear the flesh from his bones. He roared in pain attempting to keep the bastards at bay, but several times the beaks came too close for comfort, going for his eyes and neck.
Still he held his ground, gritting his teeth mentally ordering himself to hold out.
He had not noticed the girl playing at first had it not been for the strange ease and clarity of mind that settled over him as his fear ebbed away.
Dag’Tyr lifted an arm away from his eyes for a moment, noticing the maniacal birds had shifted their attention. Worried still about the kids behind him, he turned around as the beasts moved past his form. Grabbing his trusty mace he swung Gul’da hopefully to send at least one of them beak first into the ground.

After which he raised his left arm palm up towards the heavens and spoke:
"EALA’EARENDEL!” his tattoo’s glowing, engulfing his entire body before another bright light erupted forth. Its radiance similar to that of a sunflare.
As the light spread, he quickly made a grasping motion, similar to one made when one held a weapon. Knowing he would have little time he closed his eyes in focus for a second envisioning it before he cried.
“Tonger” with a heavy breath, bringing his arm down, slashing through the air.
Flinging the spectral hammer forwards towards the swarm.
Praying to Veratul that he would be able to take the bloody buggers out.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
OOC:

Dag'Tyr
Total Damage Suffered So Far: 11
Con Save of 4-1 = 3. 4 Radiant Damage; Vulnerable; 8 damage suffered.
Mace Swing misses; Spiritual Weapon hits; 4 damage suffered.
Total damage suffered so far: 23

Behemoth Cub's Two Attacks deal a total of 5 damage; Tralaya Swarm 3 is defeated with 28 damage suffered.

Dag'Tyr's natural regeneration will fill his HP back to full; no additional danger is coming his way.

The swarm flows away from Dag'Tyr, radiance and spectral wrath being his parting gifts. The Swarm, thoroughly diminished by his magics, falls prey to the young Behemoth's wrath; a hail of spines forming a proverbial wall that halts their progress towards the young girl, the final vestiges of the threat falling to the ground in heaps of feather and blood- the bodies caught in Dag'Tyr's radiant burst evaporating into a sickly green mist. The Behemoth's eyes widen, staring up at Dag'Tyr as the immediate threat lessens, but soon he whirls around and grabs the girl by her dress in his teeth and drags her roughly aside, disrupting her playing.

The remainder of the swarms in the courtyard had begun to congregate towards the music as well, their distracted state permitting the guards in the area to finally clear away the danger with this much appreciated lapse in the swarms' effectiveness. A spare few individual Tralaya scream their hideous wail, soaring higher into the air to rejoin a tendril of the greater horde.

The girl's eyes widen, as if snapped from a dream, and she numbly clings to the Behemoth as she pulls herself to her feet; still woozy and limping from that scratch on her leg. She too looks up at Dag'Tyr in wonder.

"'Allo." She offers him, her quiet voice thick with thirst. Her free hand clutching the Lute like it was a lifeline. "'E saved us, cos." She directed at the Behemoth, who merely growled through his teeth in her dress as he dragged her back towards the perceived safety of an alleyway.

---

Iris, Amaryllis, Vigil

Iris' Attacks; Wakizashi + Unarmed Strike 1 hit; 17 damage; Resisted to 8 total [5 and 3 respectively].
Vigil Heals Amaryllis.
Amaryllis turns into a constellation and tops herself off.

The Tralaya attack Vigil; 15+5 = 20
Vigil takes 12 Piercing Damage + 3 Necrotic Damage as the swarm envelops him.

Total Damage Suffered: 8

Amaryllis's sudden rise and display of mystical energy dazzles the Tralaya, and Iris' furious rain of blows begins to thin their number; but it is Vigil and his displays of holy magic that has earned the ire of the Tralaya's strange intelligence. The swarm condenses around the Behemoth, their jagged beaks finding weak points in his natural armor, and gorging themselves on what precious soft flesh can be found.

Nearby, another gout of flame engulfs the air, scattering the encroaching tendril of the Tralaya once again. Alison, standing beside Tomas Smithson, once again clutching her strange medallion as the young warrior bats another Tralaya off its lethal trajectory towards the sorceress with a resounding thwack of his hammer. Crimson drops from the air, seeking a brief respite from danger as the Tralaya swarms thin; the methodical precision of the Noctem Woman's arrows buying him this moment to catch his breath as he produces and quaffs a potion...

The area was being purged relentlessly, the danger was fading, and the Palace itself remains untouched.

---

As the fights wind down, the greater horde above the city rises out of reach and seems to retreat back into the clouds. The scattered swarms abandoned by their fellows to their fights are soon to be eradicated; the sparse few minutes of terror are almost over, though damage has certainly been enacted.

Amaryllis sees that the swarm attacked Vigil, and immediately returns the favor to the behemoth. With her hands still raised up to form the constellation, several separate vines appears from the ground. The vines are shining with starlight radiance, as they bat away the swarm and wrap themselves around the wounds. The wounds close themselves before they fall off.

She remains in the constellation form, counting on the Zephyrite and Behemoth to finish off the swarm in front of them.

When the danger had seem to pass and the Tralaya were defeated Dag'Tyr finally let go of his worries.
Breathing heavily after all the spells slinging. When one was 'Blessed' by Veratul, becoming a literal conduit leaves one quite knackered.
Perhaps if the mighty Veratul had chosen a different holy symbol for him things would have been easier. Dag'Tyr considered with mild amusement.
He should not complain, his life was saved, he was given an opportunity to save his people...and as it seemed those of other races.
He bend forward and supported himself by putting his hands on his knees to catch a breath, before raising his head up to the odd pair.

"Now...That was incredibly foolish little Lady." He said with a gentle smile.
"Incredibly reckless. Now...if the little Tiger won't mind. I'd like to take a look at that nasty cut you got yourself." He said raising a hand and pointing it at her leg, before he righted himself again, stretching for moment, seeing the uneasy reaction from the Behemoth cub.
"I can assure you, I mean you no harm, I did not save you from those flying menaces to kill you myself. Veratul would have my head." He laughed before offering.
"My name is Dag'Tyr, though some call me Blue Finger." He said holding his hand up wiggling his fingers as he showed them. "What is your name little Lady?"

Vigil had been so taken by surprise by Amaryllis' transformation into a bright, starry form he had no time to react when the Tralaya swarmed him. Given how they didn't seem to deal well against radiant energy, he should have probably assumed he'd be their next target, but due to the general chaos of the moment, it hadn't even crossed his mind. Snarling and growling, he attempted to shake of the creatures as he began to feel his strength slowly start to leave him. Thankfully, the Wooden One took that moment to use her magic to heal him, just as he had healed her moments before. Feeling his wounds closing up and a sudden burst of energy rush through his body, Vigil gave a quick nod to the woman to show his gratitude before letting out a loud, powerful roar and attempting to strike out at the swarm with his tail, which once again began to glow with radiance.

Vigil's tail swings out, his retribution carried with it; the resultant divine smite catastrophically evaporates the cloud of Tralaya until there is merely a faint green misting left to fill the air, nary a feather nor beak left to clatter to the ground in the wake of the celestial explosion. The silence that follows is deafening. The rain had stopped with the clatter of Vigil's blow, and the sky finally parting to reveal the sun and blue beyond the oppressive coverage of cloud; twas still morning yet, though light was just now showing its supremacy over the darkness. Without this constant patter of rainfall, the silencing of the cries of the Tralaya was further impactful; the disappearance of the sound of combat yet again significant; but even the droning beat of the Great Swarm's wings was gone, their ilk fading into the dark coverage of the clouds and disappearing entirely.

But the Silence is not alone; there, too, goes Amaryllis. Her starry form gliding across flagstone and garden bed alike, her druidic energy flowing off her in a tide of power brokered by her heavenly transformation. Those who yet live feel the touch of the Everbloom thus; those who perished find their repose to be gentle and blessed by overgrowth; and in the end, as Amaryllis returns to her base form, she can feel satisfied that she has made a difference to those present. Even Ser Pyke, who for but a scratch- now cleansed and healed by her powers- wickedly across his brow, which had cascaded his own blood over his eyes, seems to be impressed in his own quiet way with the display of these would-be heroes.

For, indeed, even those other companions yet gathered had proven their worth. Tomas Smithson still stands, a veritable pile of broken bodies amassed within the reach of his heavy hammer. Crimson's blade is slick with green ichor, silently buffing his armor with a cloth to try and dispel a heavy coating of Tralaya blood which, accompanied by feathers, made him a comical figure. Alison Waltone's composed figure is betrayed by a single tuft of her silvery hair, which breaks ranks in rebellious defiance to cascade down her forehead, slicked with sweat, as she thumbs her medallion with closed eyes; smoke curls off her fingers, as if the medallion's surface was cooling the intense heat of her flames. Even the Noctem woman had broken her hidden position, and can be seen taking long spidery steps through the field to retrieve her arrows; each lodged in a body, all unbroken and true.

"Alright." Pyke says, pressing the flat of his longsword to his cloaked shoulder. With a simple tugging motion he cleansed one side of the blade, then with a twist of the wrist he repeated the motion and wiped the blade clean in full. "I can see that the Gods saw fit to tell me to hurry up. Very well, let's get you people inside."

During the brief, yet chaotic, combat the Royal Guards fought well; their ranks, while initially overwhelmed, held steady, and their armored bulk stemmed the tide well save for the few swarms that encroached onto the inner courtyard. With crossbow and blade they held the walls, and the palace lays untouched within. At a gesture, the trumpets blare their victory into the air- and once again, horns sound out their calls across the city.

---

"Oi. I'm not little." She says defiantly, whilst simultaneously tugging the Behemoth to a stop. "I'm Gen, and this is my cos- 'e goes by Regis." She taps upon the Behemoth's snout, and he releases her from his teeth. She sags initially but regains her footing, leaning herself upon him of her own accord rather than being dragged.

"..._{Can't trust}..._{Maybe okay}..._Du'Eld..." The Behemoth's low, growling, voice emanates between fangs, whispering to the girl but impossible to truly conceal; such was the weight of the voice of this youth. The girl shakes her head and looks up at Dag'Tyr, her harsh and piercing eyes softening somewhat.

"Naw, this is a nice mister, propa type. Not a lousy sort at all." She declares suddenly, before nodding and letting Dag'Tyr see to her wound; it was a simple cut, truly child's play, and simple for Dag'Tyr to bandage and make right. The Behemoth sits at the entrance of the alley, watching Dag'Tyr with mistrusting eyes, but soon his fur bristles and his spines rise-

"Oi, I found 'em, they're over there." A voice calls, making Regis whirl about- but he warily backs into the alley and retreats to hide behind Dag'Tyr, nosing Gen to her feet, as four Guards enter the alley entrance. "You lot-" one in a crested helm begins, her subordinates chattering in quiet voices behind her; _{...Girl?...Beggars and thieves...Truly played?...}-"Are to come with me, the Royal Guards have decreed that anyone with merit is to be brought to the Palace. You fit the bill. Ser Pyke's given authority to forgive any small crimes, so the girl and cub can be forgiven for their looting." She says firmly, looking to Gen- who sticks her tongue out in return. It was clear that she'd be fleeing and taunting right now, if not for her wounded leg-

And so it was that Regis, Gen, and Dag'Tyr were escorted to the Palace as well.

---

The Palace of Fenhall was grand, but not ostentatious nor gilded. It bore a regal air, but one of an honest sort; a history of rulership and knighthood filled this place, rendering it noble intrinsically with little need for excess decorum. Tapestries hung from walls, trophies and portraits too, but they were of a sincere sort and gave a life to the stones of this place that otherwise would be cold and unwelcoming. The Palace seemed alive from within, from generations of voices and footfalls, and the newcomers had, inadvertantly, joined its story as cells in its veins on this day. After a brief holdover with a castle doctor, Amaryllis, Iris, and Vigil find themselves joined by Dag'Tyr; his accompanying youngsters finding their reclusive place within the greater group as well, Regis once again in awe of Vigil, but Gen scrutinizing Alison Waltone like one would a suspect mole on their person. Alison puts on airs of aloofness, but it is clear to the wise amongst you that she is insulted by such intense staring and unspoken accusation.

The group is fed, cleaned, given wine, and in short order brought to the Audience Chamber.

A great hall if ever there was one, its long and steeped architecture rises thirty feet to a high backed throne of dark wood- a kind that Amaryllis would know to thrive in the Heartlands, known as Goswod- which itself is backed by stained glass windows which cast their multicolored light into the room, the newly revealed sun radiantly broadcasting its warmth upon the audience and its host. Reds, blues, purples, and greens cascade across the room, painting the history of the Royal Family across the hall and its warmly lit long tables. Clear to all, an iconic presentation of the Storied Prince Braedan, brandishing a broken blade skyward towards a hollow sun, rises prominent among the windows, its light falling squarely upon the throne.

Where Mildred, dubbed The Unready, sat. She was a slight woman. Pale, her skin tone giving one the impression of poor health, though her eyes and expressions were strong. She was wearing a dress of white, the silver crown of Fenhall upon the thick braids of her raven hair, eyes as brown as freshly tilled earth falling upon the entering Heroes. Her lips, a somewhat more envigored hue of her pale flesh tone, were drawn into a stately expression, one of authoritative calm. She remained silent at first, appraising those who entered.

Ser Pyke speaks as he climbs the stairs to the Princess' side;

"I present to you the Princess Mildred, Eighty Second of her Line, descendent of Braedan, inheritor of the Blade of the Dale, lawful ruler of these lands, and living symbol of the accord of the peoples of Aesithas." He declares in a bold, ringing, voice that fills the hall like warm mead; it was a voice practiced at these things, and Pyke fit naturally behind and to the side of Mildred's personage like a shadow fit to a person. He belonged there at her side, just like she belonged there in that throne, and the sun belonged in the sky.

"At ease." her voice came clear, the voice a soft one, a gentle one, a voice that was perhaps, once upon a time, kind and timid but had learned to demand respect. Whilst it could not shake the softness of a youth, it was a voice that brooked and beckoned one to listen in a gentle, guiding, manner in contrast to Pyke's commanding presence. A hand gesture reveals her intentions to dismiss formalities for the time being.

"Allow me to speak my piece first, then I will welcome questions and information. I am the Princess Mildred, and I understand my rule to be one of tragedy and disaster. My father's untimely death, my youth, the land's turmoil, it has eroded away that which once made our peoples great and Aesithas a jewel of the Gods. I will admit my shortcomings, I have never tried to hide from them. I know my flaws... But I also know my strengths."

She rises from the throne and walks to the top stair, her white dress billowing around her elegantly. Her slight frame was given a spectral air by the flowing white garment, her every movement accentuated by the billowing of the fabric. She gestures broadly over the group.

"I have released a decree beckoning heroes to my service. My rule is weak- but it is just, it is right, and it is the true rule of the Dale. I need your aid. Too long has trust in Fenhall eroded, for too long have the peoples of Aesithas grown apart and forgotten their alliances to one another- my people included. We have abandoned the Everbloom, who in turn has shunned the Dale, and even the Kin of Du'Eld are now isolated and lost to us- Until this day, I had not seen a Zephyrite in Fenhall for many years! Oh, auspicious day!"

She clasps her hands at this cry, casting her gaze heavenward.

"The Gods are looking out for us, truly! A gathering here of all Aesithas' people, it is truly a sign! I see the Noble Behemoths have come to answer my call as well! A blessing indeed! Oh joyous day! I have a series of tasks, rumors and quests each, that I wish you to embark on in my name. My patronage comes with lodging here in the Palace; it will be a safe haven in your travels, you will always be welcome here so long as you carry the good of Aesithas in your hearts. My goal is to revive trust in the Crown, and through that trust rekindle the spirit of Aesithas and reforge the Alliances of Old. Many blame me, or my father, or my grandfather, for the state of things now- and I will not ignore the truth in those words!- but I cannot help but feel there is something nefarious at play; the Tralaya are resurgent, the seas grow dark, the lands shortsighted and blighted and neglected- The work of The Enemy, no doubt! That is the second part of my request; in your travels, as you complete my tasks, seek evidence of the Lord of Shadow's influence. The beasts of the Land Beyond have always been a threat, but attacks such as the one today are growing more frequent and dangerous."

She pauses now, the reverie of her monologue fading. Her expression returning to that of the regal calmness as she sweeps her gaze down at the gathered adventurers.

"But you know these things already. You have lived these lands just as I have. Coin will be provided for services rendered, and as you prove yourselves to be just and righteous, I will permit access to the other amenities and powers of the Palace. I have spoken long enough; I grant the floor to you, my would-be Champions. Speak freely. Once all have had a chance to speak their part, any who remain will be given my tasks."

She pauses, her gaze on the children. Pyke steps forward and whispers something to her; her eyes widen slightly.

"Truly?" She speaks, turning her head to look at Pyke. "Very well, they will be given rooms as well. The children will remain here in Fenhall for the time being, I have a need to speak with them privately." she adds as an addendum to her previous statement.

Amaryllis healed everyone as best as she could with the power of the stars along with the power of nature, working in harmony. Those she could not heal, were quickly covered in plants. As soon as everyone in the vicinity was healed, the heavenly chalice form faded. Her arms lowered from their arching upwards positions as her body became wood and fibre once again.

She is stoic as Pyke agrees to bring her and the others in. The Druid is clearly antsy to everyone around her as she finds herself having to wait just a little longer as she is cleaned, given nourishment, and...very fermented grape juice? The last item in question certainly got Amaryllis to raise an eyebrow quizzically. She left the drink alone.

She would have to ask about it later. There were more important matters at hand.

She stood with the others, two who fought by her side, and one other who had not. Amaryllis listens attentively and patiently as the Princess is introduced and she speaks. She raises an eyebrow at the mention that her goal is to restore the people's trust.

When the floor is open to her and her compatriots, she speaks up addressing all of them, "I wish to speak first,"

She steps forward slightly, and she greets the Princess, almost as regally as the Princess, but still respectful to the Royal in front of her, "I am called Amaryllis. Future Druid of the Heartlands, Student of both Nature and the Stars. I have come offering aid, in hopes of receiving aid in return,"

She then informs the Princess, "A Rot unknown to us has gripped the Heartlands and spreads as we speak. This decay has affected even my Family and Friends, inflicting madness upon them and causing them to become senselessly violent. If nothing is done, I fear that the Heartlanders, other than myself, will not be able to lend aid to the Children of the Dale,"

She continues, "I also come with knowledge. This knowledge may very well be a portent that needs to be heeded,"

She raises a hand and points an index finger upwards, towards the stars, "All of you who live short lives would not be blamed for not seeing it. But I have. There is a strange shifting of the stars' position within the Constellation, 'Renyo's Gateway',"

She lowers her hand and she tells the Princess, "Gather your wisemen and scholars, Highness. I sense that this portent should not be ignored...for everyone's sake,"

Once she is done speaking, she steps back in line to let any one of the others here speak.

"You lot-" one in a crested helm begins, her subordinates chattering in quiet voices behind her; ...Girl?...Beggars and thieves...Truly played?...-"Are to come with me, the Royal Guards have decreed that anyone with merit is to be brought to the Palace. You fit the bill. Ser Pyke's given authority to forgive any small crimes, so the girl and cub can be forgiven for their looting." She says firmly, looking to Gen- who sticks her tongue out in return. It was clear that she'd be fleeing and taunting right now, if not for her wounded leg.
“We fit the bill?” Dag’Tyr raised himself up and pointedly placed himself in between the little ones and the guards.
“Aye, we’ll go with you…but harken to what I say. If you mean ‘em harm you’ll have me to contend with.” He promised darkly, before he turned to the two kids again.
Dag’Tyr easily lifted Gen up and sat her on his shoulders.
“Hold on tight Freula, we’ll see what these soldiers want from us. Come on young Regis, you stick close by me. We’ll see what they want with us.”
As they were lead to the palace Dag’Tyr couldn’t help but observe the state of things, the timid people shuffling outside again observed them with both distrust and curiosity. All in all he was quite sure things once had been better, perhaps even flourishing, now nothing more of a memory of better days remained.
Would that too be the fate of his people?
He was brought before the princess together with an eclectic group of what he assumed were adventurers.
As he lifted the girl from his shoulders he watched the princess speak.
The little performance she gave was commendable, it almost made him pity her, almost.
Mildred the Unready…well regardless whether the girl’s title was apt, Dag’Tyr was not particularly impressed.
Perhaps because old Mor’Skud had been his idea of authority, this lady barely filled up her own corset.
As she gave them all a chance to speak he watched the female Wooden One step forward and introduce herself, bringing more bad news from that front.
Dag’Tyr made a mental note to ask the Wooden Lady about Heartroot later, perhaps she could explain where the rot came from or what could be done about it.
Seeing no one else step forward, he decided to speak.
“Your Grace, I ken not but speak the truth. I did not come here today to give heed to yer summons. In fact, we were more or less brought here without a say in the matter. Yer Guardsman can attest to that.” He said pointing Pyke out.
“Regardless, it matters little as the way I see it we’re all damned anyway. If things have gotten so bad that ye ken not even protect yer own people or feed the mouths of starving babes… You will have no right to rule, the Tralaya will not care for yer fancy titles or proclamations. They’ll peck you to death same as the rest of us and there’ll be no kingdom left to rule over.” He gazed back at the group.
“I know not what moved you lot to come here, but if things amongst the Wooden Ones have gone bad than I can assume the same goes for all of us.” Dag’Tyr spoke turning back to the Princess.
“A plague currently ravages amongst my Kin and nothing seems to stop it. Had it not been for the will of Veratul I would not have been standing here today. My travels across this kingdom as shown me little of comfort and running across these two orphans shows me that you can say all those fanciful words, but I doubt ye have ever stepped a foot outside yer own Palace. Instead of placating us with the promise of coin, perhaps you can start taking care of yer people. As to the matter of the children, whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of everyone or not bother with it at all. Do you think they’ll be more gullible because of their youth? Keep yer coin, feed and protect yer people instead.” Dag’Tyr finished, knowing that he probably surprised them since his Kin were known for their easygoing nature.

---

Iris was rather impressed with the group, especially the Behemoth. It was easy to see that he did most of the work when fighting the swarms and he was also able to heal the Wooden One. Speaking of which, the Wooden One seems to be amazing at healing. Although Iris was not injured from the fight, even she felt like she was healed somehow. Iris was starting to get even more excited, knowing that she could potentially be working with such capable teammates. She hoped that she also made a good impression on them, as she has always longed for praise-- something that was never given to her by her old master.

She followed along, quietly as she contained her enthusiasm. The food that was served to them was decent, but as the Wooden One passed on the wine, Iris decided to do the same. Maybe they had noticed something wrong with it? It wasn't much of a loss for Iris as she wasn't much of a drinker anyway.

When they finally reached the Princess, the Wooden One, who had appeared to be the most urgent, spoke first. Then the newcomer who arrived with the children spoke next. Their words were harsher than Iris had expected, but she always believed it was best to be honest. She did think that it was easier to judge a kingdom than it is to rule one, but she left that thought to herself.

Iris didn't have anything to add that wasn't already said or known. The humans of Dale may have already faced the consequences of her people trying to revive Old Nimbus. And while she did not agree with what her people were doing, she couldn't fault them for it either. But she had hope that regardless of the intentions of the Summon or the socio-political implications of it, that a solution could be found that benefitted everyone on Aesithas.

Vigil remained silent as ever as he followed the rest of the group into the palace, and kept close to the Wooden One and the Zephyrite he had just fought beside. While they were just as much strangers as anyone else here, seeing them come to his and each other's aid during that fight with no hesitation had earned them his respect and gratitude, and as such, allowed him to feel more comfortable in this unfamiliar situation. That being said, he did take his eyes of them for a moment when he noticed the two familiar urchins he had seen outside the palace being escorted by the guards, along with someone he didn't recognize - a member of the Kin of Du'Eld. Vigil tilted his head slightly as he watched the trio, wondering if the latter was the children's guardian as he seemed protective of them. When he noticed the Behemoth boy looking over at him, Vigil's usually guarded expression softened slightly and he gave a nod in his direction.

He ate the meal that had been prepared for them quite heartily, with a vigour that implied he hadn't had a good meal in quite some time, but like his companions, refused the wine after taking a brief sniff of it. He didn't partake in alcohol very often anyway, as he knew what such intoxicants could do to a warrior's mind and reaction time. If the Tralaya had attacked so suddenly before, who's to say that similar swarms might descend upon the palace in the near future? He needed to be on alert to make sure he and his companions weren't taken off guard again.

After being fed and cleaned, they were finally escorted to the audience chambers to see this Princess. Vigil listened to her address the room with the same stoic expression as before. However, there was a moment, when Mildred mentioned 'noble Behemoths' answering her summons, where Vigil cast his eyes downward for a moment, as if embarrassed or ashamed. It took a few moments before he raised his head again and continued to listen, though anyone looking in his direction may noticed his eyes seemed a little unfocused, as if part of his mind was somewhere else during all of this.

He did seem to snap back to full attention when Mildred opened the floor to the others, particularly when she mentioned giving rooms to the two children. He didn't have much time to think about that, however, as Amaryllis stepped forward and began speaking. There was a break in his stoicism as he listened to her explain the plight of her people, revealing concern. For Amaryllis' people, yes, but also for his own. It had been a while since he had been in the Badlands, and he wondered if similar horrors had befalling his tribe. His tail swished anxiously from side to side as Amaryllis finished her speech.

Then the Kinsman of Du'Eld spoke up, and unlike Amaryllis, he made it clear in no uncertain terms that he had not come here of his own will, nor did he seem to have any respect for the royalty he was addressing. He also revealed that, contrary to what Vigil had first thought, these children were not his wards, and he'd merely stumbled across them, likely during the chaos that had happened earlier. Vigil watched him for a moment, considering the man's words and expression. He was blunt, yes, but he recognized his anger came from a place of compassion, not a desire to hurt or cause anarchy.

There was a pause after the man had spoken, and Vigil glanced over at the Zephyrite to see if she was going to say anything. After a moment, when he saw she was planning to stay silent - something he himself would have done under normal circumstances - he decided to speak up. "Vigil, of the Tough Shell tribe," he introduced himself, revealing his voice for the first time since setting foot in the palace walls. His voice was very deep, gruff, and as he continued, he spoke slowly, with longer sentences punctuated with pauses in odd places that indicated that speaking took a lot of effort for him. "And I agree with... this man here..." He nodded over at the Kinsman. "If these children are involved, err, everyone here should know why and, err, what you intend to say to them. Or anything else you might know that we do not." He glanced around at the whole room. "If you want our help, you ought to be, err, open with us." He fell quiet and took a small step back to show he had said his piece.

The next to step forth is the Sorceress, Alison of Waltone. She bows in the formal manner, offering a deference to the Princess as is required by tact and circumstance. She remains bowed as she speaks.

"I come to present the plight of my people as well; though the history of Waltone is rife with conflict against the Royal Family, I have served loyally in my time as matron of the House. I come here even now to pledge my services personally to this Quest. If it is within my power to do so, then I will ensure that the peoples of the Dale have their faith restored in the Line of Braedan." Her words were a calm and even presentation; a simple authoritative oath. "In return, all I ask is that you hear my plea; in Waltone, the dead do not rest. It started one year ago; those buried in the earth rise again, their spirits absent and their bodies filled with some unholy wrath. Each night, with the falling of the sun, the earth stirs and graves are torn asunder; even the bones of animals discarded after meals, if not handled properly, coalesce into a danger. At first I sought to end this on my own- but my powers have not revealed the nature of this curse to me, and I must seek aid from outside my lands."

As she speaks, a bitterness and resentment creep into her voice. She scathes by the end of her sentence, and rises from her bow; though the fury in her eyes is directed within rather than without, her vitriol for her own perceived weakness and for no-one else.

"The sun provides ample safety, but come nightfall my people are trapped in their homes and the magics of my bloodline are not enough to do more than stay off the threat. All I ask is that you consider the people of Waltone in this quest, as we all make our journeys."

She steps back, once again falling quiet at Crimson's side. Gen, once again, turns her head and fixes a ludicrous stare at Alison; her strangely piercing, fire-fuelled, gaze almost trying to bore into the noblewoman's skull from across the room. Regis flicks her with his tail, and Gen rubs her head and looks downwards, the fire in her gaze melting away into childish anger at her friend.

Vigil detects from Regis' demeanor and scent the following; Soft fear (Apprehension, nervousness; not Terror), The Remnants of Adrenaline (Fight/Flight, Is This Place Safe?), Exhaustion (Safety At Last? Can I Finally Relax?)

Mildred, calm under the passion of Dag'Tyr and the revelations of Amaryllis and Alison, curtsies towards the Adventurers at the bottom of the throne.

"Protectiveness and compassion are wondrous traits. Things I hope we can all learn and share together again. Allow me to take the first step, then; What are your names, little ones?" She asks softly; her tone seeming to even pierce through Gen's fervent and furious aura. The girl absentmindedly tunes the lute, looking to Regis. They share a look-

Vigil once again receives additional information from Regis' demeanor; The Fear Fades; The Adrenaline Calms; Tiredness Overtakes All.

Regis nods slowly, finally speaking up in a manner audible to most rather than his barking whisper;

"Regis. Tribe of Gen." He declares with the scratchy roar of a childish beast. Gen, emboldened by his declaration, points up at the Princess audaciously;

"Gen, yer Ladyship. Tribe of Gen."

Mildred gasps at that, and offers the children a delicate smile; "I've not heard of the Tribe of Gen before." She prompts them. "Nor have I heard of the Lady Gen's prowess as a musician. I'm told that your music bewitched the Tralaya; is this true?"

"Aye; what's it matter, Cos?"

"...Well." Taken aback, however briefly, by the girl's flagrant nature, Mildred recovers well and continues. "It takes quite some skill to accomplish that. How would you like to play for me here in the castle?"

"Nah."

"As I thought- What?" She was completely blindsided by that. "Forgive me, I admit I was making a presumption; Permit me to try that again." Mildred blushes ever so faintly, the color rising in her cheeks providing her much needed humanity to her spectral visage. "Gen, what is it you and Regis want to do?"

"Well..." Gen shuffles, tugging at her sack of a dress in a distraught manner. "I needed a Lute to earn coin, to buy a new dress, to feed Regis and meself, and then once that was all sorted we were gonna be big damned heroes."

Mildred's expression remains colored from her earlier embarassment, but now she smiles a bright and lovely smile of sincere joy at that response. Even Pyke breaks his stoicism with a chuckle, his natural charisma flowing through the room and setting the atmosphere at ease in a subtle way. The other guards and attendants in the room all seem to lose a tension that was unnoticed with Pyke's laughter; his mirth and Gen's earnest nature disarming most in the room, turning the severity of the throne room, in spirit, into the warmth of a tavern.

"I read the situation quite wrong indeed- If that is the case, Lady Gen, then you will receive those things in order. The lute will be paid for, you will have a new dress- and suitable travel clothes as well- you will be fed, and the Tribe of Gen will be most welcome on this quest."

Gen's eyes simmer, their fire fading into a childlike wonder and awe at Mildred.

_{"I suspect you'd find a way out onto the road even if I locked you in the tower, besides."} Mildred mutters, more quietly. "...I'd feel better knowing you were with other Heroes, and with Ser Pyke, than on your own." She says more strongly, addressing the group at large once again. "I haven't heard of music swaying the creatures of the Dark except in the case of the most treasured Prospero."

"It is uncanny." The Noctem woman speaks at last. "If her playing. I mean. Her music. Like his. Prospero is generations. I mean, rather. He is Reincarnate. His skill is. I mean." Her fingers ripple outwards, into a frenzy of motion and cracking sounds as she pops her joints deliberately and makes complex signs in the air. "If the Girl can play like Prospero, even if only in the shadow of Prospero, then I welcome their might to the Journey." Her voice concludes this at last, her dark eyes cast into an even deeper shadow by her lowered head and the brim of her hat. "I have Heard Prospero. In my Dreams. Haunting. His music, that is. It is Feeling rather than Hearing."

"She gets it." Gen says suddenly. "I 'eard Prospero play too! It's why I wanted a Lute; to be like 'im." She, and thusly Regis after a stunned delay, sprints over to the Noctem woman and suddenly hugs her lanky, long, leg. The Noctem recoils visibly from the contact, but in the next instant scoops Gen up into her arms and holds her up on a shoulder; the darkness of her eyes as deep as obsidian- and just as sharp.

"The name. U'Nunlo. An Oath. No harm. Young Ones Safe. My eyes see all. I swear it."

Regis growls in a vague manner, circling around the Noctem Woman- U'Nunlo being their name, perhaps 'being' is the more fitting term; The Noctem Being- but at Gen's apparent happiness and comfort he, too, relaxes and lays down at the Noctem's feet.

"As for your other statements..." Mildred has recovered herself admirably in the quiet moment she was permitted by U'Nunlo's sudden interjection. "I will ensure they are added to the Quest. I will have the Temple observe Renyo's Gateway; that disturbs me greatly to hear, and I wish to comprehend it further." She nods to Amaryllis. "And as for you, Kinsman, you were well spoken. Your words and meanings are precisely why I am engaging this Quest. I suspect your words ring true for many in the land."

she goes quiet for a moment. Thoughtful.

"The Kin are Plagued. That is news, indeed; your kind have secluded themselves well, and little news has spread from the Shield Mountains... And this business in Waltone; why is it only now being brought to my attention, Lady Alison?" She asks, genuine concern in her eyes.

"I believed myself powerful enough to resolve it." Alison bit, her cold words chilling the warm atmosphere a few degrees. "It has become apparent I cannot."

Mildred makes a warding gesture, a calming one at that, and continues; "Very well, I can understand your desire to be self sufficient in these times. I applaud your coming here to Fenhall to petition and offer your services. Your power is welcome to the Quest..."

And she proceeds to elaborate on the Issues of the Lands and the Quest;

---

At this point, barring any other specific questions/conversations you all need to make, the discussion on the quest and the days of preparing will take place. This is a nebulous amount of time passing, allowing you all to roleplay together or talk to some NPCs as you see fit. You are given lodging in the Palace, where you are fed, clothed, and provided 100 gold each to mark the initial patronage of Mildred for The Quest.

Additionally, you all achieve Level 4; this is the official 'end of session 1'. Feel free to discuss in character or OOC the Quest, express any questions or do any Downtime Activities [such as 'Research', etc] that you wish to do, or otherwise prepare for the next step in the journey. Where you all intend to go and what you intend to do is up to you guys; this is a sandbox with hooks in it at this point. Alison of Waltone, Crimson her Bodyguard, Tomas Smithson, U'Nunlo the Ranger, Gen and Regis, and Ser Pyke will be your initial companions on the journey. this is a 'free roleplay' period until you all declare you're wanting to leave Fenhall and go on an Adventure.

The Quest is to Unite the peoples of Aesithas and Rekindle the trust in the Line of Braedan that has been eroded over the generations since the Reforging of the Blade of the Dale.

*Banditry in the Dale; the ordinarily disparate and small groups have been growing more ambitious and organized, the troubled and starving bandits of last year have evolved into a more disciplined and cut-throat calibre. Mildred has received rumor of patronage; someone funding, feeding, and training the bandits to prey on the peoples of the Dale. The only lead she has on this is the increasingly dangerous passage to the Southland Deepwood, and the abysmal news that comes from the region.

*The Heartlands, so nearby to Fenhall, as has been elaborated on by Amaryllis, have gone to Rot and Madness. Mildred wants an expedition mounted to delve the Forests and see if there is a Source of the Madness, and if possible for it to be cleansed. She expresses concern over a location that Amaryllis has heard of as well, though has not visited in her isolated growth; The Heart Spring. Mildred elaborates that in the stories of the Heartlands, the Heart Spring is allegedly a magical font of the Everbloom's nectar in the center of the forest; if anything has gone wrong, it must be there.

*The Shield Mountains are under Plague; Dag'Tyr's knowledge is new here, but she stresses that this is as critical as the other issues- and she will do all she can to lend aid to the Kin in the meantime. She arranges for a party of healers to be drafted from the Temple and the Castle staff to head there ahead of time to do what they can immediately.

*Waltone is under siege from the Undead. When the Party decides to pursue this avenue of the Quest, Alison will voice more information on this issue.

*The Zephyrites in Isolation; Mildred fears that history is doomed to repeat itself, with the Zephyrites once again secluding themselves to their Cloud Kingdom. However noble their aspirations and goals, and how important The Old Nimbus is to Aesithas, she wants the means to travel to the Cloud Kingdom to be rediscovered from the obscurity of time so that diplomacy can begin once again.

*The Badlands are in disarray; Mildred wants stability returned to the region, and she'd prefer it to be under the lineage of Tyrania in honor of her ancient oath to her own ancestor. Anything that regains the might of the Behemoths in full to the peoples of Aesithas is worth doing, and while she is only able to offer minimal information on this request, Vigil will, when the time comes, be able to elaborate more clearly on the issues of the Badlands.

*Ultimately, she wishes for a dignitary of each people to swear homage to the Blade of the Dale and reforge the Alliance of Aesithas. To this end, the Blade of the Dale will need to be recovered from the edge of the Lands Beyond. Once all other goals have been completed, she will personally make this journey with you all to recover her birthright.

Some time after meeting with the Princess, Amaryllis had asked the Princess for permission to go to the Library for research. After receiving approval, Amaryllis made her way there with haste and purpose in her stride.

Once in there, she takes in the atmosphere and the library's appearance. This was the first time she had been in such a place. So this was how the Dale Folk learned?

She proceeds to look around for subjects that could help her learn anything at all about the Rot that now grips the Heartlands. Not once does she stop to talk to anyone here.

Amaryllis turns her gaze to the Noctem who spoke to her. She tilted her head, realizing that she does not recognize him. She answers the Noctem, "I do not seek just a book. I seek knowledge. Information that can help me combat the Rot, and heal the Heartlands and Wooden Ones there. If you know where I can find such information, your assistance would be greatly appreciated,"

After she speaks, her gaze goes back to the books as she seeks anything related to the topic.

---

After getting some rest, Iris decided to wander around the Palace. Although she was itching to get started on The Quest, she knew that everyone needed time to get ready and a game plan needed to be made. Iris, herself, was not the planning type so she left that to the others while she sharpened her sword as well as her mind through meditation.

She wasn't looking for anything in particular, but maybe there would be someone to talk to. Plus the princess said that they were open to use the amenities at the palace so might as well explore since this may be their home base for the time being.

In her wanderings, she found the library where Allison, Amaryllis, Crimson, and a Noctem that Iris did not know yet. Seeing as they were all deep into her research, she decided to not bother them. For some reason, Iris doubted that the library would have books that she would be interested in.

She also found the barracks where the guards stayed. She made idle conversation with the ones that were not currently on duty and asked them about some of the facilities found on the castle grounds. One had mentioned a smithy which Iris was pleased to hear about. Maybe if she became friends with the Royal Smith, they would let her use it to forge her own weapons.

Vigil had been mostly keeping to himself after the audience with the Princess. The others may have spotted him wandering around the palace from time to time, often seeming very deep in thought or just looking completely lost. Any attempts to converse with him would find him just as talkative as he had been on that first day - as in, not much at all. Responses, if he gave them at all, were short and to the point, and it always seemed as if he challenged himself to use as few words as he could to get his meaning across. Many might consider his mannerisms purposely stand-offish, but in truth, his guarded nature was simply to hide how out of his depth he felt. This land, these people with their ways so different from his own, the variety of new sights, sounds and smells. He was being given a lot of new information all at once and he had no idea what to do with any of it.

Seeking some distraction from these anxieties, Vigil decided to go seek out the two young'uns who had come to the palace on the same day he had. In particular, he wanted to talk to the behemoth boy, as he was curious to know what one of his own, especially one so young, was doing so far from the Badlands. Perhaps he'd ended up captured like Vigil himself. Perhaps some common ground could be established, and might help the behemoth warrior feel just a little less isolated in these new lands.

He'd seen the children, along with their new Noctem friend, hanging around the Palace Gardens so he decided to investigate there. As he made his way, he kept his ears alert for any strange sounds, the sudden attack from the Tralaya looming in his mind. Should another swarm attempt to fall over the city, he would not be caught off guard again.