Speaking in his usual gruffed voice, Manzur responds to an old friend. “Good to meet you too.” - having just exchanged pleasantries while stabbing the heads of two walking corpses. Walking over their truly lifeless bodies, Manzur pushes forward with his assault - blocking various strikes and blows from multiple angles.

The melee continues as Manzur does what he knows best, to kill and maim. A job that does not need much of an explanation in its details. A stab there, a shield push forward, a block here, and a jab elsewhere. Aside from the active combat, a few questions are being raised in the mind of Manzur. Who the hell would go to the trouble of turning his former comrades into walking corpses?

A solid question to ask after these damn undead are well…dead.

Gwyn grinned triumphantly. Got them! Now to just help with the remaining six...At least Cicero seems to have found a friend. She powered up another fireball, looking for where she could aim. The light from the last one helped luminate where they were better, though the new friend made it a bit more of a gamble of how it could go. Time was of the essence here though. One more good fireball, then she could start saving her energy by shooting arrows. Taking careful aim, she let loose towards where the undeath were thickest.

Gwyn's flame missed as the undeath moved right before it hit. A ball of fire burst in the sands erupting in a cloud of dust. However, the two undeath that were aflame from before had caught fire to two others! They ran off and collapsed into the sand.

Manzur, however lined his foes up opposite with Cicero. At just the precise moment he lunged with his spear and impaled two of the undeath through at once! Their heads popped like melons at his swift strike. Afterward, he lunged backwards in time to retract his weapon. An undeath leaped at him, but narrowly missed. Manzur stuck his spear through the fiend and into the ground. It growled one last time before it went silent.

Cicero bashed his opponent with his shield and lopped its head with a strike. Suddenly, the only sound to be heard was the crackling of flames in the night. The stench of burning, rotted corpses wafted the air. Cicero looked up to Gwyn and called out, "He's a friend! Come on down." Cicero wiped his brow and thanked his compatriot, "It's been some time, old friend. Tell me. what happened here?" He reached out to clasp Manzur's right arm in a familiar greeting as he spoke.

Manzur welcomes Cicero’s hand as both men firmly shake hands - letting go after a few seconds. “Demonfolk killed everyone,” Manzur says in a straightway fashion, befitting his stolid mannerisms. Manzur bushes off dust and grime from his spear tip with the leather side of his gauntlet as he mourns the death of his comrades quietly to himself.

After that, Manzur points back to his own watchtower off in the distance. “There, a friend, demonfolk. Been with me for a time,” Manzur quickly fires off, speaking in a broken sentence structure so as to not waste time on his end. Manzur rests his spear on top of his shoulder and relaxes his shield position - looking towards Cicero and then Gwyn for answers of their own.

Gwyn watched the stranger cautiously as she descended down the ladder, glad that they had had help (and more than a bit miffed with herself for missing that last throw) though still, curious about who this man was. Finally, she made it down, sizing him up more. "Well as they say, a friend in need is a friend indeed.." Her eyes then went to check Cicero over for any injuries before looking back at the stranger. "You trust your, other friend?

Cicero nodded grimly to Manzur. The deaths of more comrades must have been hard for the grizzled vet to bear. Yet he managed to shake it off just as quickly as he cleaned his weapon stained with the flesh of his former comrades.

Cicero echoed Gwyn's question, "Yes, are you certain they can be trusted? Being a demonfolk I mean." He added quickly.

Gwyneria was unable to determine any significant damage to Cicero. As far as he seemed through his mannerisms, nothing was amiss. He did speak as if he was still catching his breath, however. As for herself, she had perhaps a few more fire spells in her before she needed to rest.

The past few days passed in a blur for Ashe. She remembered arriving into Roh, traveling around for a bit in search for a mercenary camp where a very skilled warrior was supposed to be. Hoping for more training with her sword skills, she travelled all the way to the desert as that's how she used to make use of her time. One mercenary camp to the next. Felt sometimes like her search for the wonderous magicians never ended but merely changed.

Soon after she met the mercenary, Manzur and asked for training but before a decision was taken by him, the camp got attacked by another demonkin. Next thing she knew, everything went black and woke up a bit after in the watchtower that loomed over the camp. A bit dizzy and with some pain in her midsection, Manzur brought her up to speed with what happened and when Manzur left to help the newcommers fight off the undead.

She watched with interest as much as she could from her vantage point the battle and when it ended, she went down the watchtower to meet their saviours just in time to hear the last bit of Cicero's sentence.

" Greetings! Thanks for the save and yes, I can be trusted. My name's Ashe." with that she made a small bow and then removed her facemask.

Gwyneria pursed her lips, looking between Ashe and Cicero. "...You may call me Freda." Then extended out her hand. "We are glad that you were here. Have you been here long?"

Ashe griminced for a moment as her head started throbbing for a bit and then after what were 10 seconds but felt like 10 minutes, she smiled once more towards Gwyneria.

" Just a night or two. Got here just before the attack to train under Manzur. My sword-skills need some improvement, luck runs out sometimes. " said Ashe, ending the sentence with a wink.

Cicero turned to Ashe and replied, "If Manzur trusts you then I will too. Though I must admit, I've never met a demonfolk who looked upon me favorably." He turned to the others, "Shall we take what supplies we can and pursue? Or rest and recover?"

What would the group decide? To pursue immediately or recollect and recover first?

Ashe shook her head. She was used to this racism from non-demonfolk and even from each other occasionally. It was one of the reasons why she wore a mask on her face at all times to hide her nature. Not that she was ashamed of it but because it was the only way to stop people making comments like this.

" I'll appreciate it if you refrain yourself from racial comments but--", Ashe took a deep breath as memories of her imprisonment and savior resurfaced. She grabbed her sword and squeezed tightly to center herself and continued talking " I was once in a bad bind and saved by a human. Anyways, I suggest we collect everything we can from the camp. "

She then turned towards Manzur and asked " The offer for training still stands, yes? "

@Spiffy@Cyrania@Dog

Manzur looks at Ashevelen - thinking about that offer. Death, while never managing to take Manzur from the mortal plane, comes closer every year. If war, bloodshed, assassination, and disease cannot kill the Butcher then the passing of time will - Death’s ultimate ender for those who have yet to succumb. Manzur knows well that his body cannot last for much longer at this pace, but retirement is not much of an option either - lest in the traditional sense.

Having decided, Manzur stares at Ashevelen. “You will be my legacy,” Manzur says in a friendly tone - a surprise for a man that does not often give off pleasantries. Either a cruel joke or an odd twist of fate, the Butcher of Bloodied Sands now sees it upon himself to bestow his skills and talents to young Ashevelen. The man renowned for his butchering of Daemonfolk, to now train his former adversary.

“Pursue? Yes,” Manzur says - being aggressive as always. After all, this was the man that cleared out Takiyah and held Zafeera Pass.

Gwyn pursed her lips. If they waited, they might not be able to find them again. But if they went unprepared..."Wouldn't it be best to rest and prepare? Supplies are a necessity within the desert after all, so if we don't grab them, someone else may come and grab them for themselves." She then peered around a bit before looking back towards them. "Besides, if any of us need rest or healing..." She glanced over to Cicero suspiciously. She couldn't see anything obviously amiss, but given his track record, she would still suspect something. "Making sure to gather the supplies will allow a chance to take care of anything before it becomes too serious."

Ashe smiled at Manzur, nodded gracefully and fixed her mask back on her face.

Looking at the group, she said " Let me try something see if we can do both at the same time. Maybe it'll work if lady Luck smiles on me. "

As she finished talking, she took out her pair of dice. Looking at them, she concentrated deeply and after a few minutes they began to glow slighly with a yellow light. She then shouted out loud, her voice distorted by magic " Let all the valuables in the camp appear in front of it. Let what is not know, be known!"

Cicero scratched the back of his neck awkwardly as Gwyn eyed him for any more injuries. Before he could respond, Ashe's power activated. What appeared to be a simple throw of the dice ended up having glowing features, "An amusing trick." Cicero thought. However, it was more than a trick. Something was happening.

Suddenly, the storehouse glowed the same yellow color of Ashe's dice. Lights danced inside. Appearing for a moment, then disappearing. "Just what kind of dice are those anyway?" Cicero glanced at Gwyn with an eyebrow raised, hoping for some sort of insight in the strange "trick."
Those who investigated the lights would find that various items of value glowed under the debris and damage already caused by the raiders.

As her magic took hold, Ashe smiled and said in a loud voice " Lady Luck smiled upon us! Go find the valuables! What would've taken hours, will be done in half of that. "

Quickly taking her dice from the ground, she muttered a thanks and went on to find the valuables. Full well expecting to have answers to give afterwards. Her magic was rare and the number of users were small, questions were bound to be asked.

Gwyneria frowned as she watched her. What the heck was she doing? There was certainly magic connected with those dice. And yet, the feel of the magic wasn't familiar at all. "I don't know..." She finally replied to Cicero. She was determined though to find out...



The dice were rolled and Gwyn suddenly found a curious bag among the flickering lights summoned. Frowning, she picked it up, looked inside, and found various herbs and spices, some she'd never even seen before. Perfect for helping with healing and for any cooking. She looked back from the bag up to the strange woman, fully perplexed. "How did you do this...? From the effects, it would appear to be some form of summoning magic, and yet one of Rister's fundamental rules of summoning is that one cannot summon what was does not know about...Were you already in the camp? If so though, why not just say you knew exactly what was there before the summons? No no, that doesn't work." Her brow furrowed more. "When would you have had the time to before now? ...Were the lights in the dice a form of scrying mirror? Did you scry the camp then summon what you saw? That's supposed to be a grand master technique though. How much training have you had?"

Ashe went on to search for the valuables and after some quick searching found a banner. A horse in running position.

Taking a moment to recall if she ever saw something akin to it :



She wasn't sure. Something sparked in her mind about it but nothing clear.

Rolling it back to make it easy to carry, she went back to the group to ask if anyone else has a clue when Gwyneria asked the questions that she, once upon a time, asked the magical group that taught her. They gave her the answer in the form of one word, luck.

" I can answer all your questions with one word. Luck but I assume that won't satisfy you. So, let's take the questions one by one. Yes, I was here before but only briefly before the attack. No, I didn't know where the valuables were otherwise I wouldn't have used my lucky dice to find them. No, it wasn't a summoning spell. That sounds complicated and if I could've simple summoned stuff, why would would I not just summon the stuff at our feet? I don't know how to scry for things either. I was simply lucky. I roll my dice and if the dice roll is high, stuff that I said, thought or intended to do happen. If the dice roll is low then bad things happen. So, as I said, I was just lucky for things to work out my way, this time. Now we can pursue the attacker faster without having to look around the whole camp. " said Ashe, a playful smile on her face.

@Cyrania

" Now, does anyone know what this is? "

She rolled the banner for all of the group can see and inspect.

Manzur largely ignores the magical conversation between the Ashe and Gwyneria since well…everything they say completely flies over the head of Manzur. It is not until a very certain banner came into the fold - one discovered by Ashevelen and the usage of her magical dice. Manzur walks up to Ashe and touches the banner as a flood of memories re-enters Manzur’s mind. Battles, bloodshed, good times, bad times, camaraderie, former friends, and whatnot flashes in an instant before it all disappears. The brick of a man grabs the banner into his own hands - unfolding the cloth and displaying its design in front of his eyes. He takes a moment to bask in its glory once more.

“Roh's Skirmishers. I was in it. I led them. It is blessed. Hold it high. Use it in the shadows and you will strike better from it,” Manzur informs the gathering. He folds the banner very neatly before handing it off back to Ashe. “Use it well. And with great dignity and respect.”

Cicero listened with all the focus and clarity he could muster to the demonfolk woman. But the longer she spoke, the more tired he felt. The adrenaline finally ran its course, the tiredness crept in. He squinted his eyes, but forced them open through sheer willpower. Finally, at the mention of Roh's Skirmishers he added, "I was once in Roh's Skirmishers. Before I left for the tournament, Freda." He paused briefly reflecting and continued, "Is it truly the fate of our brotherhood to all die in similar manners? Violent and without peace?" Cicero turned to Manzur. It only then occurred to the former knight that revealing too much to newcomers may be unwise...

The veteran Manzur knew exactly what Cicero meant. The members of their small band seemed to all die in one horrific way or another. Was he and Cicero doomed in the same way? On another note, the reason for his apparent fake name was obvious. Manzur had seen the bounty postings. Cicero and an Elf by the name of Gwyneria were listed as highly sought after. Their blatant crimes against the crown of Avalon offered a ridiculous bounty. Perhaps Manzur would be able to use the reward for turning them in to raise an army of his own. Loyal to him alone. However, Cicero and him had bled together. They suffered the same losses of their comrades. What would the gods do in such a case? If there were any to do anything at all?

As for Ashe, she received a boon blessed by the head ladies of Roh. Her strikes would be more quiet under the help of the banner. Gwyn had not realized that the majority of Cicero's comrades fell in such violent ways. Some to fates worse then death. The man's voice sounded tired, yet determined. It was obvious they were in this together, but would their story end the same way as his comrades? What chance did they have against such great odds?