Kaspar left the tavern while the party was still in full swing, other competitors joining in the drinking. His head was spinning with the effect of three shots, two primes that had been purged and one shot that still lingered in his system in full, boosting his manas. He walked down the darkened streets, more of a wobble in his step than the boy was capable of recognizing.

He got back to his dormitory, an ornery Raspberry Drake winding around his legs and nipping at his heels, waiting for the door to be opened. Kaspar pushed it open after a moment of clumsily undoing the lock, and Feit-og-sint slithered in, darting under one of the cupboards. The quiet sounds of him devouring fruits he’d stashed away echoed through the front room.

He filled a cup with water, ignoring the curious stares of his two smaller dragons nestled in beside the froabas egg. He chugged the liquid, realizing it was a mistake when it hit his stomach all at once, sending it roiling through his innards. He stood, stumbling towards the door and sinking to his knees to clutch the bucket there, dry heaving. Nothing came up, but it took several minutes for the noble to regain his composure, beads of sweat soaking into his collar.

He sat back on his heels, and immediately a small body wrapped around his hand, sniffing at his skin. Looking up at him with eyes just a little too big for the head they were trapped in, Tomsøthet seemed almost concerned for his wellbeing. Gently scooping the reptile into his palm, Kaspar returned to his spot at the table, pushing away the now-empty mug.

Tiredness was beginning to pull at him, and for a moment the boy considered simply laying his head on his arms and giving in. But his crimson eyes trailed Tomsøthet’s curious expedition around the table to the other side, and for the first time since Willa had come to visit, his gaze landed on the portrait he’d created. Stretching his arm out, he caught the edge of the paper between his fingers and pulled it closer, finally taking in what he had drawn for the first time since creating it.

When he’d finished it, awed though he was by the skill in his art, the boy had dismissed it as the musings of a lovesick fool. He knew what this was, though he hadn’t at first… And none of it was productive. They were feelings he couldn’t allow to remain, at least not at the surface. So the boy had been pushing it down, restricting those emotions the same way he did all others. For days it had been like this, the noble staunchly ignoring the whole thing, yet never finding it in himself to simply burn the portrait like he thought he should.

Now, though, with the intoxication swimming in his blood and plying his mind, he truly drank in what he’d created. It was the only true portrait he’d ever done—a few sketches from a much younger and much less talented Kaspar seemed to imitate human faces, but they could not really be counted.

Something in his chest tugged, like it already knew that he would destroy the sketch come morning, resolve hardened by the softness of his altered state. He was already to his feet, sketch in hand, before his mind even fully caught up. Tomsøthet scurried to the edge of the table, reaching out front legs to grasp Kaspar’s sleeve and swing onto it, dangling before climbing the fabric and clinging to his forearm.

“I might need your help,” the boy whispered, lifting the dragon until it could slip into his vest. Snuggling in, it glanced up and chirped, the closest thing Kaspar supposed he could get to an agreement. He leaned down, snagging a stray quill, and steadied his hand to scrawl something on the corner of the page, doing his best to keep the words neat despite his drunkenness.

His fingers turned the knob of the dormitory door and he stepped out into the streets, darker and quieter than when he arrived.

There was only one place where the sketch could truly belong, and it wasn’t with him.

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By the time he got to her street, Kaspar could only hope he’d been walking with something resembling dignity. He’d not noticed any other wanderers, but that was far from an assurance that they hadn’t noticed him. He counted the buildings as he strolled down the street, mustering as much as he could into looking like something other than a drunken student about to do some minor breaking and entering.

A small rush of relief coursed through him as the proper dormitory came into view. One of the windows was open, letting in the warm air of Ersand’Enise. Glancing from one end of the street to the other to be sure he wasn’t being watched, Kaspar approached the opened window. He was surprised to feel heat coming out of the room as well, but only for a moment before he remembered that she had two dragon eggs to keep warm.

It was now that he pulled the green dragon from his vest, holding the edge of the sketch up to his mouth. Tomsøthet grabbed it obligingly, though it was really more of an instinct than an intelligent response. He was set on the window ledge and blinked up at the Helbahnese boy, eyes bright but devoid of thought. Pulling a few treats out of his pocket, Kaspar tossed a grape through the window. It landed on the table, but bounced and rolled down onto the seat of one of the chairs.

Nevertheless, Tomsøthet was off, diving through the window and jumping onto the chair. The paper slid from his mouth and onto the surface as he devoured the grape. Kaspar cursed, and tossed another that landed and stayed on top this time. Tomsøthet was quick to scamper up the table and mow it down as well, but had no interest in bringing the sketch with him. The noble was trying to figure out how to get the dragon to do what he wanted when a few soft thuds and some shuffling came from the next dormitory over.

Panic laced like ice in his veins as Kaspar frantically pulled out another grape, getting the attention of his companion. The green creature dove back through the window, nearly taking off the tip of his master’s thumb as he chomped onto the treat, oblivious to the speed with which the boy had turned and begun walking hurriedly down the street. He glanced back only once he got to the end of the street, catching a figure in the distance who seemed to be at least as drunk as he was, wobbling into the distance with a single shoe in hand with what he guessed, from the bare skin of their back, was their shirt.

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Lambs to the Slaughter
_{Ersand'Enise - Docks
Seen & Mentioned: @Th3King0fChaos, @YummyYummy, @A Lowly Wretch, @Animus}

Silas had turned his nose up at the offered work board. Not at it has anything to do with his literacy difficulties. He just didn't much like the idea of if a middle-man or extra effort put between himself and other peoples money. Besides, his sale of the Wyrm acid and cut from Desmond's egg had set him up rather well, for the rest of the semester at least. But when he'd heard Desmond mention a familiar name, his curiosity couldn't help but be peeked. Though he refused to outright say it. Sinn’ulen’luunetar did not meet with just anyone. If he came knocking, it he already knew what he wanted and the price. Never to be bartered on. His feigned disinterest was stretched rather thin before the end of the same hour he'd hear it.

"Strange he's meeting you in the docks. There are safer places." He'd casually mentioned to his room-mate over their final breakfast before the derby.

"Hiring students seems awful risky don't you think? How trustworthy you think that lot is?" He whispered after the dramatic display at the auction house.

"Hope you didn't bring a gun." He bemoaned, happening upon the Enthish boy in latest hours of night, on a rather twisted, empty, path towards the water gate. A claimed coincidence, of course.

"Y'know those Yasoi noses," he gestured to his own small, rather flat nose. "They can smell that fire-powder from ten feet."

His hands were stuffed deep into the large pockets of his coat- at least a half foot too long for his small frame- and he clicked his tongue. "I better keep by to watch out for ya." If Desmond heard him at all he made little more acknowledgement than a short grunt.

The pair arrived at the docks to find Carmilla and Trypano. Not exactly nobles, but rich stuffy enough to be indistinguishable in Silas' eyes. He didn't give them much more than a nod, before most of his focus was put towards no being sick. The moment they'd stepped onto the boat he'd been overcome with the gentle, yet relentless, lapping of the tides. Behind his blindfold he closed his eyes and listened to the mysterious man's instructions.

"Don't know why we'd have to meet them at all." He piped up, well after the meeting had finished and the other had begun discussing, but enough time for his face to regain it's usual colour. "They all staying in the Cathedral District- The Cathedral even. Could pop in while they're at breakfast and check their beds and clothes." His energy and excitement renewing with each idea that came to mine, he unknowingly began tapping his foot and nodding while one hand emerged to reach for one of the vials. "What'd there even be to notice missing?"

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Location: Ersand'Enise

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Interactions:

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As the Melon Derby came to an end, Ingrid just felt a flood of relief. The anxiety of protecting the special melons and large melons was just too much. Fuck they had even 3 fucking monsters and 2 annoying dudes come into their home. Thank god it was all over. It would be awhile until the tallied all the melons and in the mean time they needed to clean and fix the house.

Cleaning was calming. Just a mindless activity that allowed Ingrid's mind to normally wonder to her studies or imaginative world but she was feeling bad about some of her descisions and responses. She left the group for far too long, and if she did choose to leave, she should have brought them all, it wasn't like they had any melons. Then she came back with a healthy chunk of points but then left again and literally did nothing.

And how I acted towards Zarina. It wasn't just wrong, it was dangerous. Using a spell like that without even being fully practiced in it was stupid. If it went wrong I could have accidently melted her. I need to apologize to her.

Ingrid felt dejected by her own actions but was overall fine. All she needed to do was to apologize and reflect. She couldn't help but question what the Ice King said. He was overwhelmingly strong and frighteningly insightful. She rarely thinks about her family means of making money past what is written on the ledger. But it is thrown in her face about how her family are oppressors. Easily seen if you just think for a moment. If you care to look and Ingrid never cared to look even when she worked at the mines. Terrible. She felt terrible and uncomfortable with herself and she knew she should be.

The guilt was heavy but it is something she shouldn't just let control her nor push away. Until she can level with herself she needs to keep it where it is and continue with the others. Her guilt shouldn't be a bother to others. Afterall, they came 4th!!! It was a small celebrations as they finished up the cleaning. Ingrid chose to go out for a walk, hiding away whatever she was shaken up for, from Dory to her own ignorance. Just be happy that you came top 5, something you believed that you were never capable of.

A growing headache was taking hold from the stress she felt. She was thankful she could hold herself up in moments of stress most of the times, she wishes she was more aware of how stressed she was instead of what seemed like passive aggressive signs from her body.

That magical bean juice she invested in was a cure all at this point for Ingrid and she headed over for that bitter medicine. To her surprise, Zarina was out there with Casii and it seemed a fight was about to break out. Ingrid didn't mind watching. Cathartic violence was always a way to take your mind off of it. Ingrid started watching and she ended up next to Ismette, the last person she expected to watch this. She tried to make some conversation, maybe some fun but Ingrid misread the situation and instead got on her bad side a bit. She just wanted to learn how to flirt and kiss. Ingrid thought that she should have just asked but that was too embarrassing.

But as her mind wandered to the last time she had a kiss with Benny, the fight had frown fierce and outside sources were healing fighters. Things were getting rowdier but it felt within reason. Zarina and Casii were looking fucking awesome though. Ingrid rooted for Zarina because she knew her slightly more. But the intense spectacle started to turn as species started to rile.

It wasn't long until insults were being thrown and Ingrid was suggesting that before the fighting Ismette should leave. But Ingrid failed to coax the good hearted Yasoi from trying to stop the fighting as she left Ingrid to join the mash and try and stop the fighting. Ingrid wanted to get out of here, fear and disinterest as her primary motives. But she needs to try and do better and she rushed in after Ismette, facing the humans as Ismette faced the Yasoi. Doing her best to stop the fighting with her imposing size.

Her actions were not based off of strength but trying to reason. And the normal life lesson that volatile emotions and reason have no place with each other, no wonder Dami and Eshiran are at odds with each other more often or not. Things intensified as Hegelan and Eaiko joined into the fight as well. The fight started for real for Ingrid when Chad tried to do a flying dropkick to only get slammed by Manfred followed by a Zarra slamming into an unprepared Ingrid.

Fighting was breaking out and Ingrid had this painful grinding in her shoulder, she might have cracked it or damaged her cartilage. But higher than her wellbeing, Ingrid was just trying to find Ismette. She wasn't good in these situations and could accidently kill people, a fate Ingrid wanted to have her avoid. Before she could, Zarra healed her arm. She said thank you as she started to try to get to Ismette.

Things went from bad to worse, Ismette was knocked over and it didn't look good and she let out a scream. Ingrid rushed over to cover her when a rotund Virangish boy kicked her in the head. She was obviously down and injured and this insolent boy attacked her. Ingrid started to draw and had every intention to twist and rip him in half from his fat belly. She would have truly done it if her draw wasn't so slow. Ismette's anger exploded before Ingrid, blasting everyone near her away. Ingrid was blasted into a wall, maybe some broken bones and head and organs felt like they just been shook around. She was out for most of it until she was healed by Zarra. Ingrid stumbled her way to Ismette to check on her, she should be afraid but her worry for Ismette outweighed her self-preservation.

To Ingrid's relief, Ismette was fine and was back to the self Ingrid knew. Casii made her way over and she watched Ismette take care of her with Casii literally falling into Ismette's arm. They were close. Like it felt they were dating. But Ismette wouldn't offer to bang me later if she was- then they went off and looked like a couple. Ingrid would be lying if that didn't strike her as odd. She felt stupid for being excited about sleeping with Ismette. People cleared out and she was left wandering and having a sudden panic is she was just ugly and no one had the heart to tell her, not even Benny. But these were just momentary extreme thoughts and she luckily wandered upon Zarina.



Ingrid looked forward to the Auction. She had planned a presentation with Zarra and Korin to help sell the dragon pearl. From what she knew, she could sell it off to someone for 5k magus. But in the Auction it could go for more! Ingrid felt confident as a salesmen. But it seemed her belief in herself was misplaced. Even with prove of it working, the species that can confirm it true led to it selling for 4k… She kept on a straight face and thanked Zarra and Korin. But she felt like she was about to puke when they left. That was a lot of money. She could accept even 250, no 500 magus below market value but a thousand was and impossible amount of money.

She could swear she could see her family staring at her as the numbers came in. Her friends laughing at her and the snickering of the crowd as she failed so publicly. She just wanted to go and bash someone's head in. In her manic state she started to scratch herself lightly before going to her trusted method of self-harm. A finger full of arcane energy placed her bare skin and burning herself in small but intense bursts of pain. When she could smell the skin burning she stopped and covered her shoulder back up under her dress.

She continued to the auction and it was fun! Much better than loosing face for failing to sell a dragon pearl. Much better than Failure. Much better. So she needed to so better in the auction. Each loss on something she wanted to win on hurt and each win was elated her. There some displeasures hearing Dory and Manfred flirt so much. She normally be able to hide her feelings but she couldn't and moved across the auction to sit next to Sven. He was a much better auction partner anyways. He was knowledgeable and filled her with these overwhelmingly fuzzy feelings when she let him bid as much as he wanted to go on a dragon date on a Tyrannus Mosiengus.

Ingrid was glad to have him as a friend. Sven was so bright and she liked to bask in it. Though she questioned what she added to the friendship, well enough to equal what she receives. 25 Magus was nothing if it was for him. But the final item came out and the tone of the Auction was about to change.

Sven spouted it was a rare artifact. He was sure. He never spouts things off like this unless he was sure. It was enough for Ingrid. The bidding was quickly climbing. To the point to where Ingrid was betting with speculative money. Desmond had joined in on this, lending 2k and the number climbed higher and higher and it was obvious they were against the endless purse of the Doge. It was that Evander fellow. He was connected to it from the start. Ingrid was approached by what seemed to be representatives of the Sovereign Pac. Sven was getting increasingly nervous and wanted out but Ingrid hated the idea of being beaten. It was her box and she wasn't letting no fucking bitch of the Doge get it. The price was so high that the auction was taken private and they were brought to the back room.

Money was calculated and things were weighed and the amount they were offered by their backers felt low, 21k. Ingrid decided to add 4k and Desmond added 2k for 27k. They won it and but over payed by 2k. It was upsetting but they had it. She felt strong. She won. And that is when the third group made their move. Ingrid remembers little from their but she came to a very different room. There was Covenant and the mystery people were defeated and they were being either tortured or questioned. Her box was with her but for how long. She was panicked. Her precious box, her 27k magus box was in danger and everyone could be a threat. The odd priest tried to make motions towards her as screaming could be seen and heard from the man caused by one of the brothers and one of the sister. She moved away and he tried to negotiate giving the box to Desmond. No he will steal it while it is being transferred. She threatened him to stay where he was as she hid next to Sven. Sven was safe. The brother had enough and knocked her out without even a struggle. All her strength she was told she had meant nothing. Why is she always failing. Why isn't she strong enough.



The next time she woke up she was in her Zeno's house with a welcoming smell of a warm mulled cider. She wanted some so bad that she only got up for that and came to notice the people around her. Some of shortlisted, Desmond, and Sven. She sipped some and tried to feel better. She wasn't in her right state of mind. She felt vulnerable with what happened and all these people were here. Desmond did his best to cheer her up and it did help but she still embarrassingly asked Sven to just stay with her. He felt safe for some reason, she just wanted to be safe.

Talks happened and Ingrid understood but she longed a certain girls company but she would obviously be with her lover… Sven shocked her with the idea of buying it themselves. It was stupid and stupid. One stupid didn't do it justice but she played ball because it was Sven. She knew this wouldn't pick up steam. She even called Benny in, Mostly to cuddle with him, and second to see what he thought. And he thought it was something they could do. And with that it was so. She couldn't believe it. Benny was off to do something that he wouldn't even let us do. She wanted to go with him, wherever but he was against it and he was gone. Her heart was left wanting but she could only accept this was his way of doing things.

Ghaven started inspecting it and Ingrid went out to search for jobs. No luck was found but she could think. Just a lot of questioning how things happened. What would happen. Just questions with not even speculation. And finally there was Silas, they boys she thought was dead.



It was fun to race a little. Her heart racing felt nice. Her winning felt better. She finally headed home. She didn't want to interrupt anyone. She didn't even want to talk to Dory, worrying that she may still unable to control her feelings. She wish she was better to talk to her. She really wanted to talk to someone. Maybe cry or let out her frustrations but she couldn't so she just went to bed. She just felt tired.



Ingrid's head was a mess. So many conflicting thoughts and an overwhelming feeling that she is going to make the wrong choice. If I really don't hand this over, how long will it be that my father or grandfather marries me off? Or who knows, maybe it will disgrace me enough that he just cuts his losses on me and I will just owe him money. How many more Eskandish soldiers will die because I didn't give the box. Would I even be allowed in Eskand.

Sven seems so sure of this. Does he have a plan if his family is sieved or striped of their land because of his choices. My family is large enough to not be removed but Sven's... I need to talk to him before it is too late.

Then there is how I acted at the auction house. I acted like a total nutjob in retrospect. Threatening a member of the church who was just trying to make sure we were okay. Ingrid cringed remembering how she acted towards him. You can't just threaten someone

I would just take a single day of not fucking up. I hope todays trial goes well.



Ingrid carried the coffee back and had a good sendoff to their hegelan friends. One day Ingrid will go to their home to drink with them. Ingrid was just happy she made what she thinks a good impression on some jolly folk.

Ingrid spent time by herself getting ahead on studies and read some more of her favorite books. That is about it. Just the nerd reading by herself.

Snaked and Afraid matched with Ismette's cousin team, Vysta's Favour. It just made sense and they went over who went where. Ingrid didn't mind pairing up with Chad, he was hot and fun to be around. Just that kind of person if you can deal with him. Ingrid somehow convinced him to search with her even when he was solidly no. Now Ingrid needs to get Chad and his friends to an Eskandish Party after the Dragon. Should be easy enough. Eskandish know how to party with the best of them.

The dragonspine was as beautiful as ever and Ingrid has a worrying amount of time to admire them… The cold was nice. It was home. It's like it just took some of the stress away. She was going to have fun. She needed it to avoid cracking.

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Location: Ersand'Enise Auction House

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Interactions:

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After the Melon Derby had finished and a few words were given to Zarra about him causing such property damage, it was finally time for some celebrations for after. As Team Snaked and Afraid & Team Shortlisted were able to secure 4th place! Leaving Desmond in a very good mood as nothing much could have really gotten him down. The Team did well, they had secured a placing much higher than Desmond could have imagined, Desmond had some fun, and he thinks he's made a decent enough impression upon his shorter teammates. Some strange things happened, he thinks he may have been hit on by someone he didn't even see, however he wasn't too sure, it could have been someone who was mocking him, yet it did not matter. Desmond was in a good enough mood to go and buy himself a coffee, as he left to go to Zeno bucks.

That was a terrible idea, the moment Desmond made it there he saw that a crowd was forming around the owner of Zeno bucks, Zarina, and the spitting yasoi, Casii, as they were both brawling. As they threw punches, people roared and yelled in excitement as he saw Silas and Marceline seeming to set up a betting pool. Desmond made his way over as he saw the crowd getting too excited as it seemed people began to fall into the bets, as Desmond decided to help, 'Why not? It's just a bit of help'. The little bit of help had carried him into then needing to run away from the crowd as it roared in excitement, more and more so 'till the point where a full brawl occurred. One man bumped into another, one didn't take kindly and neither did their friends, as then fighting began to happen, as the man who was originally overseeing this entire fist fight, Zeno Sectoxomactex, had now searched out those who had possibly stolen or lost the money. Desmond was passed the hat they had used to collect the money as him and Silas split ways and used the many different people to break up who had what and if they ever had the money. As once Desmond had escaped, he had passed the hat off to a respectable boy to take care of. Desmond shook his head as he decided to maybe make himself sparse and even somewhere else, as he heard there was an auction going on, maybe if he decided to go and make some bids and even win something the heat would be lifted off of him as Marci and Silas take some heat before they go and take their cut from the 'bids'.

What was to be a fun time became something Desmond was afraid of getting into, especially so early on in his life here. Sure it started off fine, Desmond made some bets on some different things: 3 Prime mana shots Desmond will be splitting with Penny after some friendly banter, some somber banter as they talk of what could have been hassling because Zarina believes he owes her and Casii money, and then a friendly painting duel. Next came the Pyrite rock Desmond and Ingrid were very interested in as for her it was for mining, for Desmond it was to try and recreate Sirrahi technology. After which finally came something Desmond could not pass up, a Hydra Skull big enough for him to wear. Desmond had an idea for something so he wanted it, as he bided and got it for 6 magus, not a bad deal. Yet the final thing to come was something that had brought something trully troublesome to their door. An unassuming music box with strange characters carved on it. Some symbols resemble mighty dragons, others mountains, but nobody seems to be able to translate. Some say it predates the fall of the Avincian empire. It is currently broken and requires a brilliant mind to work on it. Extremely fine craftsmanship can be noticed when thoroughly inspected. At first Desmond wished to get it to work on it, it was for his own pride, yet it became more and more apparent that they were betting on something that was more than just a music box. As the bidding soared, it reached levels Desmond was left worried, he put in so much and others seemed to put more, Ingrid's and Desmond's funds were quite high, yet it seemed as if they betted against a whole bank. Desmond swallowed as a voice cut the bidding, "I believe, that we should perhaps make this a closed--door auction, as there appear to be only three parties still bidding". As soon began a fate-changing encounter.



Later that day when Ingrid finally woke up, the group had been waiting for her to make sure she was okay, Desmond threw some quippy lines while they spoke trying to lighten the mood from what was a stressful situation. As once people were calm and ready, they talked about the box, as it was found it was a box able to pacify one of the biggest Dragons known to man, the Tyrannus Monsigneus. As that night an Order was formed, as it had multiple individuals as the core of the group: Sven, Ismette, Ingrid, Desmond, Benedetto, Woren, Dorisay, Ghaven, Talkhen, and Korin. These people all knew what this was, what they were doing, and knew the plan was simple: they needed to get 27,00 Magus to buy the box themselves so neither Revidia nor eskand can get it. Once they do that they will fix the box so they can use it. For fun. Demsond wasn't sure why he agreed with any of this in the first place, evne the bidding, yet he was here now, and feet weren't made facing backwards. So for Desmond, the only path was forward.

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Event: After the Melon Derby

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The hour was dark after the melon derby. Though silence had not fallen upon Ersand'Enise. Instead, a night of celebration took its place. The tavern was packed, drinks were had and a rather rowdy brawl took place. Yet Yuli, despite enjoying all of these things, was not present. She was wandering the streets, reflecting on what had gone wrong. She knew she'd messed up - and revealed a little bit too much of her character towards the end. She thought about who'd seen it - and what she'd done, and eventually re-assured herself that everything was going to be alright. And by the time that came - she ended up at the remnants of the row. Supposedly the yasoi, the hegelans, the eeaiko and the humans had all fought against each other, and Yuli happened upon the interior of a tavern with people unconscious on the floor. She surveyed, and waited for no-one to be watching before picking a target to drink from. She happened upon a revidian with sweet tasting blood but was unable to acquire anything from it other than a satisfying meal.

Soon after, she found herself at an auction. It started out as a fun little gimmick, a few rocks being sold and people paying outrageous prices for them, but there were a few items that caught her fancy. The first was an aphrodisiac, but she was outbid severely by a smug noble boy who mentioned something about Djamantese parties. She would research it for sure, but it didn't change her frustration about not getting the item. Another, that caught her eye, was a music box. Something old, from before the avincean empire. She bid on it. But she noticed that the price went up and up and up. She was happy to compete with this agent for a while. She was goaded by a couple of girls into bidding higher, but she mostly wanted to score a win on this uptight little turd that beat her for the previous item. That was, until it got to the thousands, and he continued to bid. She watched the price skyrocket as a bidding war began between 3 camps. And before long, the item went to the back to be sold in a private auction. It was a mystery to her, and perhaps she thought she might have done a disservice to her country by not pulling in with the rest, but she simply didn't have the funds at hand, nor permission to use state money with reckless abandon. Her personal funds were great, but they were nowhere near what the final price of that item ended up being.

In the deep night, she went to strike again. And this time, she chose the wrong target. His blood was sweet smelling, and she knew there was a rare blood in there somewhere, but he was strong. A fierce fight took place, and for a second, she thought he might have an advantage. She did not fear that she would die to him, but she feared that the swinging of a fiery sword and the screams of his strange northern language might attract others into the fray and jeopardize her position. And so, she ran. And for a moment, she thought that she could have taken him out, but she vanished into the night. There would be no risk taken tonight, but she would remember his face. And perhaps, she'd go for him again....

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Event: Hegelan Drinking!

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It had been an interesting choice for the group. Yuliya had convinced her team of Shortlisted. She knew of the potency of hegelans, the mana brews and the wonderfully crafted items they held. After all, she had one! And, got together they did. In the morning before the Dragon, they had drunk mana brews. Yuliya had consumed 2 prime shots, and had convinced everyone else to give them a go. Zazzy didn't keep hers down well, and neither did Kaspar, but Augusto and Jomurr took to it well. By the end, they'd all had some significant increase in RAS though. She felt particularly strong, and she got the same vibe from Augusto after the drinks that she did from the ice king. Just a well of unimaginable power. She had to stop herself from drooling. He was her teammate after all.

For the race, she chose Street Hoghs, and was partnered up with Korin. The two had come up with a fashion related strategy - if she wore a red shirt, the other groups would avoid her in fear of losing time spent on the race, and so it was that before they were to begin. Korin had herself dressed up. The two had gotten along quite well and shared quite a bit of banter. It was nice to be with someone she could easily converse with, even if it wasn't her first language, she felt far more confident in her spoken Hegelan than she did in her Avincean. She felt confident, and determined to do much better than the derby. And she felt something new, that she hadn't quite felt before - an urge to win not just for herself, but for Zazzy and the others? Was this normal? She'd have time to think on it after.

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Event: High Stakes

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Yuliya felt comfortable. For it was the dead of night, and the heat of the ensolian sun wasn't beating down on her. It was these hour she felt at most peace with herself, but she wasn't up to her usual night antics. There was a hunt for a sanguinaire, and of course this had drawn her attention because she herself was a sanguinaire. Yet, there was zero suspicion towards her in this group, aside from small glances from the paladin she'd encountered the night before. Every time he looked over, she simply smiled and maintained eye contact. It was almost comical, to hear him retell the tale of her attempting to drink from him, in front of her, while being completely oblivious.

Khaliuns warnings were noted. If this was a true sanguinaire, or even a high, then this mission was a death sentence. She thought of her brother, and of her father, and of the strength they bore. It was worlds apart from even the strongest students here, and even some of the zenos. And so she took Khaliuns warnings to heart. She would wait, she would observe, and only if she thought she might win, would she strike. So she responded, in a hushed whisper to Khaliun.

"Если они хотя бы наполовину так компетентны, как мой брат, все здесь будут мертвы к восходу солнца."

As they got closer and closer to the scene, Yuli shuddered. Not out of fear like the others might have, but out of annoyance. No-one worth their salt would leave a trail like this. They didn't NEED to eat this much to be full, yet they did anyway. Who was this.. hedonist, and why were they fucking around at Ersand'Enise. This was going to bother her peaceful life, and quite frankly, that bothered her. It bothered her immensely. She felt her grip tighten around the hilt of her axe, and part of her wanted to disregard the warnings and go and brutalize this fool while she was still juiced up on the prime shots she'd had earlier, but she would wait. Because she wanted this dumbass out of her school, and out of her life. And perhaps she wanted to finally get a good drink. It'd been far too long.

"I'm going to cover exit, you go ahead. I won't let escape." she sighed in frustration, as she traced around the sides of the proving grounds, looking for possible entrances and exits. It was a cover, but she wanted to know if there was a way in to surprise this fucker if it was necessary.

"держи меня в курсе. мы наносим удар, если вы думаете, что мы можем победить." she said aloud into the air. This would be a good test for both her and the sentry.

The sun is blazing overhead as the Team Sectoxomactex arranged to meet by the Arboretum for their grand introduction to each other. The students have faced another one of those facility reshuffles which have brought them together into a new group.

Maura, being new to the school herself, was already dressed up in what she imagined was a uniform of the place, a simple dress made for hard study, paperwork, and enough mobility to reach the books in the library. This did work out when it came to the more academic subjects, but found herself woefully underprepared for the far more vigorous activity ahead. “Perhaps we should consider a change…”, she looked down towards her legs as she flattened the fabric over her lap. It appeared that she got the time wrong, either too early, or awkwardly late, as she was still trying to adjust from Torragon time.

She moves her finger over the slate, as she tries to memorise the details of the… boys she ended up paired with. Delightful.

“Let me see, who do we have…"
"Leander, Thalak, Merchant," @Creative Chaos - He may be interesting, what goods does his family trade?
"Niallus, Eskand, Noble, " @McKennaJ71 - Hope is is not the type to scream about his great ancestor called Hrothgar the Bloody Awful.
"Sven, Eskand, Noble, " @Force and Fury - ... his family being in a blood feud with the other would spice things up.
"Nazih, Firrazene, Noble, " @Ziegenkonig - Does Firraz even have nobles?

Niallus arrived a couple minutes ago to where this group introduction was agreed to meet, he sighs, as he then starts looking around.

"Seems I've arrived early." Sitting down on some grass he remembers the names of the others he's paired with. So...Maura, Leander, Sven and Nazih. These people are going to be paired with me.

Looking up to the sky, he lets a smile across his face, fiddling with the ring on his ring finger, mostly out of habit.

Maura blinks as the boy seems to turn up and sit upon the grass nearby. She tilts her head to the side as if trying to decide if she is one of the ones she was waiting for, or some passer-by deciding to casually laze upon the grass.

With a few pushes upon the wheels, she brings herself forward as she approaches him. "Hola, you waiting here for Zeno...", she peers down towards the slate again for a brief moment, "Sect-oxo-mac-tex's group?"

Niallus's focus shifts to the girl in the chair that's getting closer to him, at first he's not sure what to make of her, but since she's greeted him it's only common sense to return it, so he greets her with a smile and subtle wave.

"That's right....I think. Don't worry, I have no idea how to pronounce that name either." Letting out a little chuckle. "My name is Niallus. What's yours?"

She offers a smile towards him, "Charmed. My name is Maura". He was certainly far more well dressed compared to the mental image of an axe wielding barbarian, perhaps things would not be so bad after all.

Leander arrives a bit late and sits on the grass, adjusting a brown top hat. A manic grin is on his face, as if nothing is more exciting than this meeting.

Sven nearly smacks into a low hanging tree branch as he ambles up, nose in a book as usual. The world isn't made for tall people. He blinks, shakes his head, and tucks the book into a satchel slung over his shoulder. "Oh, uh... hey!" he tries, scratching nervously at the back of his head. "Nishe to meet you, partnersh! I'm Shven." One of them is grinning a whole bunch. "Whoa, that'sh quite a hat," he adds, twisting to regard Leander.

As they were greeting she saw the other two approach, a rather unusual looking one with a top hat and the boy loaded up with books. Based on appearance, it must be Leander with the hat, tipping an imaginary one towards him, and the other introduced himself as Shven.

"Hola. Looks like we are all almost here. Pleased to meet you both, my name is Maura". She smiles sweetly towards the pair, before shifting into a position that faced the three. She couldn't resist, directing towards Sven, as the boy is recovering from the tree branch. "Maybe best you are not on the invasive task, I hear the islanders are fond of their trees."

She looks down towards the pattern of the shadow for a flicker of a moment, "Sure that Nazih will be here soon too. The Firraz are known for being reliable."

Nazih sluggishly rounded the corner, squinting harshly in the sunlight. He looked extremely hungover.

"Not too late am I? Those Hegelan brews last night may have been a mistake..." He muttered, making way straight for the base of the tree to slump against. "Nazih Iqbal." He motioned his hand in a half wave in introduction, but already his eyes were closed again.

"I already know I'll be climbing a mountain," Sven sighed. "I can shee the Dragonshpine from my family'sh landsh."

Then Nazih appeared, and he seemed in less than great shape. Sven blinked. "N-nishe to meet you," he began. "I'm Shven: Sven Bjornsshon." He blinked. "Sh-shir, are you familiar with internal Chemical magic?"

Leander sways a bit at the newcomers’ arrival, the grin growing even wider.

“I’m Leander Keraunós, but Andy works too.”

Nazih was just glad to have something to focus on other than his incredible hangover.

"It's a pleasure, Sven." he said, slowly tilting his head towards the Eskandish. "My training focused on the external side of things, but I've dabbled. If you have a cure for this headache, I'm willing to try anything"

Sven glanced Andy's way. "You wouldn't happen to be a chemical mage, would you?" he asked, not all that hopeful. Leander did not give off the air of being a Chemical mage. "I have heard there'sh a way to cure hangoversh. Just... haven't mashtered it yet."

Maura sighed as she watched the display, the Firraz are far from reliable, and point was proven on the first meeting with Nazih. "One would recommend plenty of water... for drinking and a much needed bath", she closed her eyes as she rolled them.

"Using magic for trivial things is not wise, but we are left with no choice if we are to win this event". She looks towards Andy expectantly, as already being incorrectly identified as the lead in resolving this issue.

Niallus nods in agreement with Maura. "It's nice to meet you all." He says to the others that have arrived.

"I agree with her, but here this could help you Nazih." Handing him a bottle of water, to keep him hydrated,

He sees no objection to Sven wanting to do the Mountain part of the race.

Focused on priorities, Nazih desperately downed the bottle in one go. "Thanks.", nodding to Niallus in thankful acknowledgement.

"And normally I would agree, but after those drinks I feel I could cure an entire village bar's worth of hangovers and still have magic to go around. That is, if I knew how." ending with a slight grin. He was beginning to feel the effects of the strange brew.

"It looks like we have a strong team for this race", Nazih addressed the group, starting to feel better after the needed water.

"But you..." he narrowed his eyes, scanning the woman who had just insulted him. "Just who-" he began to ask, in no mood to deal with a merchant too big for their britch- wait no, too big for their wheels, finally noticing the chair. But then it dawned on him; those features, that arrogance, that accent; it could only mean one thing! A Torragonese.

His brow lowered into a menacing glare. "I didn't realise they allowed war criminals in this institution. You must have garnered sympathy from your... handicap." he spat.

Maura simply smiles sweetly as the Firraz turns on her and claps her hand together. "You should have some more water to refresh yourself amigo, your mouth is moving like a cabro". She gives a playful giggle as she tops up Nazih's cup with more water, gesturing for Andy to begin his magic, speaking low towards the Thalak, "Probably won't change his attitude, but try your best".

"Now, we are already talking about the event. Sven for Dragonspire has been decided... we have the Water, Desert, Piggies, and the City challenges..."

"You should know better than the others that I'll be taking the desert leg" Nazih stated, sniffing the water Maura poured him before gulping it down again.

"I know the desert better than most, and the Firraz still have a few secrets left that weren't plundered."

Nazih continued, "That leaves the Ocean, Tropics, and City legs."

Confused by Nazih action Why is he sniffing the water for? can he really be that hungover also what was with that attitude to her putting it aside since it none of his business, he stands up to stretch his legs. "the only one that I won't be able to do sadly is the ocean part. but I was probably able to do the Piggy challenge." still he's unsure about how this tension between Nazih and Maura would play out during this whole event.

Andy looks between Nazih and Maura, chuckling as small sparks begin to appear around him.

“Normally, it takes a few days for people to get at each other’s throats. Seems like you both skipped the process.”

He spends maybe a split second thinking it over before deciding. “I’ll take the City leg. I can navigate it without worrying too much.”

Sven blinks and swallows uncomfortably. A Torragonese and a Firrazene in the same group. Leander is right, but the tension between them is hardly surprising, especially given the history of their two peoples. They are fundamentally the conquerors and remnants of the conquered. "Yesh, I'm happy to climb the mountain," the Eskandishman offered. "But we, uh, need to get Nazih uh... shipshape, first, though, with more than jusht water."

"I agree. We need him to be cured of this hangover. Sven see what you can do to help Nazih. So that leaves the ocean part to Maura." Thinking about what he said, he gets a worried brow on his face, looking at her, clearly the woman is in a wheelchair, he has no idea how she'll be able to even do this,

The very thought of her attempting sends a chill down his spine. No, she must have a plan of some kind, otherwise the school wouldn't dream of putting her life at risk.

Maura strokes a hand through her hair, twisting the end with her finger. "As much as Nazih needs a dip in the water, he would be best placed in the Desert, since this is probably the only time he has left it".

She reads the confusion expressed upon the other boy's face as he questioned Nazih's behaviour, "Water is like liquid gold to the Firraz. They conserve it in big underground reservoirs. They use what is in the yellow seas around them, sand."

As to put an end to that awkward accusation... "As for blaming descendants for supposed war crimes of their ancestors. Heavy words to start throwing around when in a group with two Eskand present. They won’t appreciate it either." Couldn't resist the opportunity for shade. Easiest way to do it without a history lesson.

Swiftly moving on, she gives a wink towards the boy as she catches that worried expression. "We have been on a boat before, should be fine".

"I am not my country," Sven says simply, glancing back pointedly at Maura as he walks up to Nazih. "She ish not hersh," he says to the Firrazene, "and you are not yoursh. The only group that mattersh right now ish thish five: ush. We won't win if we shpend our time shniping at each other like our forebearsh have taught ush. Coming from where I do, I know a thing or two about the shadow they casht." He reached out gently and people could feel energy being drawn. "I alsho know shome chemical magic. If you hold shtill, I should be able to get rid of your hangover... in theory."

Maura raises an eyebrow towards Sven, especially as he says 'in theory'. "As pointed out, water is very good. It helps things that go in one hole, come out of the other. Including last night's celebrations..." Despite the supposed animosity, she didn't want Sven to knock out her fellow team mate, especially in the important moments prior to them setting off for the event.

"It seems we need to be prepared for the water event. Perdóneme", Maura leaves the group momentarily as she goes for a much needed change of clothes. Also she cannot be blamed if Sven maims the fellow team member, as she would be blamed.

Niallus looks away from Maura, embarrassed by her wink. "I don't think any of us, are like our people's reputation. And we shouldn't judge them based on that alone." Looking around the group. "Sometimes it's one's actions that really define them."

I really hope this team gets along well enough so we don't end up killing themselves

Andy looks over to Niallus, the manic grin still on his face. “I like you already.”

Niallus looks at Andy with a blank face from that comment. That grin of his, it's a little off putting, but he doesn't want to make it awkward by saying something that may hurt his feelings.

With a cough to clear his throat. "Anyway, what is everyone's magic? I can use Arcane and Kinetic."

After sufficient time, Maura returns. It seems the girl came adorning more swim appropriate attire, though looking a little out of place as they were by the Arboretum and not the beach. She comes to them discussing magic specialities. "More dabbling within the different types, though if one had to be picked, it would be Binding. Need to use it on an almost hourly basis."

Niallus looks at Maura, dressed in a swimming outfit. You'd think she was going to the beach for the day, but he admired her commitment to her part of the race.

"You look nice. Umm.... Anyway, you do Binding magic, that's neat. I've only a little knowledge of Binding magic." Turn back to the rest of the group. Wasn't exactly wanting to say that first to her, but it's too late for that now.

Maura feels her cheeks grow a little warm and a little rosy after the compliment. She attempts to concentrate upon the contributions from the other group members pretending for Niallus's comfort and her own not to notice. She looks towards Sven who appears to be vying for leadership of this little gathering.

Andy pipes up.“I’m pretty good with Magnetic magic, and I know Arcane and Kinetic magic too.”

Nazih lifted himself into a squatting position under the tree. "I specialise in chemical magic, though probably not the kind you're used to..." He gave a weary look to Maura before plucking a healthy green leaf. From the moment he touched it the colours began to change over the next few seconds; the bright green transitioned to yellow, red, then dull brown as it eventually withered into dust. "I have a bit of binding too, and have been told I've unwittingly tapped into the beginnings of the Atomic school, but not anything that could be of use to us yet."

Niallus noticed what Nazih did with the green leaf, and how it died. That's... interesting, he's never seen chemical magic used like that, whatever the case it seems it decays whatever he touches.

But that's just his theory. He looks at Andy then back to Nazih. "These are well balanced types of magic. What about you Sven?" he says, looking towards him.

Maura didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted as he was looking at her during the little display with the leaf. Though one thing was clear as she smiled towards him, it would have been awkward if he used that on himself to try to cure his hangover. Too many desiccated mummies in the desert as it is.

Sven had been silent, working on Nazih up to this point, trying to remove some of the effects of his alcohol poisoning with Chemical magic. There were some judgmental types here and they made him at least a little bit uncomfortable. "I do my besht with all kinds of magic," he replied, "but Chemical and Binding are my shtrong shuits. I'm learning shome Atomic too." He scratched at the back of his head.

Maura gives Sven a big smile as she gives him a clap upon the back, getting her goggles ready for her race ahead. "It is always good to build up some tension before a race. It gives us a lot of energy to burn and gets our blood flowing!", offering everyone a warm smile. "So it looks like the water is first up, then it is my personal favourite", she poses next to Nazih, flexing her arm as she prods him playfully. "Then it is our Handshome duo", she looks towards them both, giving a flutter her eyelashes and a light blush. "...and last but not least..." she pauses for a moment, "smiley!". With everyone and everything in place, she turns towards the portals opening up. "We should go to our places, we don't want to be left behind!"

---

---

---

---

Location: Auction House, Erasand’Enise

What will they think when I walk in?

Was never a question Evander thought about. Why would he care what commoners, merchants, and lowly nobles thought? He laughed out loud as he walked into the auction house. He was decorated in a clean tailored vest with golden accents and red satin. His white shirt neatly tucked beneath. Evander’s golden hair was tied up in a regal ponytail exposing his youthful broad shoulders. He did not possess the frame of a muscle-bound soldier, but he had a tasteful and elegant lean muscular frame that signaled he could dance and tussle with the best of them. His eyes scored a seat a few rows back from his teammate Jocasta.

Evander sat down, kicked back, and observed the crowd of students bumbling around to find seats. The Victendes auction was about to begin, and Evander was ready to play. The first few items merely ramp up the spectators and give those with less a chance to contribute their small sums to the auction house. It was not Evander’s first auction and most likely will not be his last. He knew the more prized possessions would reveal themselves later in the evening. Then, a surprise. The auctioneer called out an aphrodisiac. Evander had a recollection piercing his prefrontal cortex. He was transported back to Djamant at one of their famous festivals, an island of wild spirits and hearty hands. He remembered the first time he had tried an aphrodisiac at one of their festivals, a memory he did not have to work hard at holding.

Evander raised his hand. The bidding commenced. Throughout the bidding, he made flirtatious remarks to Isabella, and Jocasta, who responded with flush cheeks to Evander’s wit and charm. Both times referencing Djamant, Jocasta having been to one of their festivals could relate to Evander’s interest in taking Aphro at one. Isabella could not relate, but she seemed to imagine it with Evander in mind after his comment. Again, he raised his hand until finally, the aphrodisiac was his…now to convince Jocasta to teleport and join him for a Djamant festival.

The following items were lackluster and unmemorable, as the people who bid for them. Except for the final item, a music box. Evander recognized it. The auctioneer confirmed it—an artifact of Avince… a device that sang to more than just people. Without hesitation, maybe too obvious, Evander raised his hand to bid. The bidding war commenced between himself and the unusual duo Ingrid and Desmond. An odd pairing of two, but when Evander plays, everyone notices and must join together if they want to have a chance at winning. The bidding would continue for quite some time to where the hearts and minds of those who could not comprehend the Magus amounts began to shake in their seats at the absurdity, including Desmond and Ingrid. If it were not for their mysterious patrons, they would have left the weight of this bid on the table turns ago.

Eventually, the interested parties retreated to a private auction where dirty hands and fowl play occurred. Mysterious saboteurs, law enforcement of the highest order, and an auctioneer losing control all acted in a confined space. In the end, Ingrid, Desmond, and their rallying cry for others to help them pay for the music box would receive the ancient Avincian artifact. A battle well won in a war they will lose. Upon leaving the auction house with his patron, they walked together to Zeno Bucks for a cup of coffee. The cloaked man freed his face from beneath the hood. The two acted as if they knew each other intimately. The cloaked man shared a cup of coffee and discussed topics of politics and Ersand’Enise interests. Evander would ask a favor before the two departed their separate ways.

Evander’s confidence continued to ignite regardless of the auction outcome. His team had won the Melon Derby, and his sights were now on The Dragon.

---

---

Location: Crafters Quarters, Erasand’Enise

4:30 HE

Evander usually found solace on evening walks, his mind easing into each step. Not tonight. Solace and ease are distant as the sun. For tonight, Evander followed a clue. Several moons ago, he was introduced to the rumor of a Sanguinaire. Before such rumors, he had only heard about these shadow-lurking creatures in stories told to him by his tutor in the same tone, always boiling down to two words, devilish fiends. The dimly lit streets of Ersand’Enise had feelings of enchantment and gloom. The night felt extraordinarily darker than ever before.

Nonetheless, Evander hid any doubt or fear, if the monster is here, it can bleed too. He reaffirmed himself. On time, Evander reached the distillery marked Crafters’ Quarters, above the door. The rumor pointed to this meeting spot at 4:30 HE. Evander slowly pressed the palm of his hand on the door as his cloak draped to one side, flowing over his arm. Opening the entrance, he stepped inside. The creaking of the floorboards sounded as they gave to his weight beneath his feet. He approached an eclectic group at a table. As Evander stepped to make an introduction, one of them groaned in Virangish, which Evander could make out as, ”What’s taking them so long?”

Before any members could become acquainted, at least since Evander’s arrival. Two figures entered the Crafters’ Quarters. These figures were noticeably carrying equipment for more than an evening's walk. Their approach was subtle, delicate, and precise. A demeanor befitting of Sanguinare hunters, perhaps?

Immediately the aura surrounding their mystery broke as the jolly Kerremand spoke,”Pardon me, mein Freunde!” Evander felt…disappointed. Quickly his disappointment turned to a sense of seriousness as the second did better justice in introducing the reason they were all gathered, “What you have heard is true: A Sanguinaire is among us. To ensure the safety of every man, woman, and child in the Twin Continents, the Burning Order has, is, and will investigate all information on these creatures and cull them.”

Evander felt renewed in the fact he was not wasting his time,Good, the rumors are true. What better way to demonstrate his skill as a member of the Synesti household than to slay a Sanguinaire. He took this mission to prove himself worthy of his family name. The man who called himself Lissanon asked if there were any questions; Evander had a few. He stepped forward, ”What do you know about this sanguinare we are after?” Lissanon nods, ”We know they have been here around the beginning of the trials. Potentiallly even before.” Evander thought since the beginning of the trial? He turned his feet toward Lissanon in interest, who began to scratch his chin in muse, ”We have had reports of odd encounters and fainting before the event. But your colleague,”, pointing to Abdel, ”has had a confirmed encounter with one. We estimate this sanguinaire to be a relatively inexperienced but quite dangerous specimen.”

”Do you suspect there’s more than one?” Evander inquired further. The tall man shrugged, ”We have evidence of at least one. But with the trials, it is reasonable to assume there could be more. Or that the single one was from foreigners.” As always, to the point, Lissanon paces closer to Evander. Viktor appears more pre-occupied with cleaning his gun. Evander stood confidently as Lissanon closed distance, ”Have you two hunted these sainguinaire before?” He was curious to see if the two in front of him had any experience or if they were errand boys sent by the Order behind this mission. The two confirmed, Fourteen, that was the number of sanguinaire lives collected between them, ”do they usually travel alone or with others?” Lissanon replied, ”Alone.”

Evander followed up, ”How have you killed them in the past?” Lissanon answered, ”The same way you kill a person,” only to be cut off by Viktor, ”A bullet to the head or heart does the trick.” Evander looked at Viktor who seemed to know exactly what was being asked, "And if you don't?" Viktor elaborated, ”Ein Blutsauger is very resilient. Heals fast, is fast, kills fast. Quick killing blows work best.” he tilts his head and chuckles at a stray thought, ”Fire works too. Works very well.” Abdel raises his chin and grins, crossing his arms.

Evander was beginning to sense this was going to be a dangerous hunt. If it was traveling alone, why in Ersand’Enise? A place where plenty of people were strong enough to kill it. Why not somewhere less capable of fighting back? Evander asked, “Why do you two believe this lonely hunter has come to Ersand’Enise of all places?” Lissanon furrows his eyebrows and tilts his head, looking confused, ”Is it not obvious?” Viktor chuckles, ”They don't know. Most don't, Lissanon.” Lissanon purses his lips, ”Maybe it's for the best. But, know that such events are bound to attract stray or ambitious Sanguinaires.” Evander could feel they evaded the question with a vague answer. Abdel crosses his arms, a knowing scowl of disgust upon his face. ”It’s the mana types,” he decides. ”Lots of goodies for them here. They wanna steal your rare blood. One had a go at me,” he sneered. ”Dealt with easily enough, but they bolted before I could finish the job.”

The questions and answers continued briefly. Evander summed up everything in his head.

Sanguinaire heals fast, runs fast, kills fast, but scares easily. Piercing the head or heart and exploding it with fireworks was a sure way to kill one before it could heal. They hunt rare mana types alone, and will flee if they feel overwhelmed. The strategy is to discreetly scout the city, gather intel, and return to the Crafters Quarters to form a plan.

Evander stepped back, “Thank you, Lissanon, Viktor, and Abdel, for answering my questions.” He was ready to prove himself against the sanguinaire stories he grew up listening to as a kid.

---

---

Location: Outside Proving Grounds, Erasand’Enise

5:30 HE

Evander followed the others out of the Crafter’s Quarters. Viktor led the hunt, and Abdel identified a victim. The group followed the trail of victims to a blood path leading into the Proving Grounds. Without discretion, Abdel took to the skies. The rest needed to decide. Would they go through the open gate where a tunnel full of flickering torches led to the Colosseum? Or would they look for another way in? The sheer obviousness of peril lurked down the corridors of following the trail. Evander could not help but recollect a story about Countess Aelis Clairmont, who lived in a manor beyond Chamonix.

…stupid Perrench, who walks into a stranger's home in the middle of the woods? Evander thought as he remembered the story about a sanguinaire who preyed on the living. She would lure her victims in with a chemical attraction. She’d disarm them by giving them no doubts in their decision to follow her trail. All the while, her victim would descend into confusion. Until finally, she decided to strike from the most advantageous position.

If the story was not true, it was meant to convey a point. Do not follow a sanguinare’s path for it will lead to a death trap. Evander heeded Khaliun’s warning, if they followed, they would be walking into the center of a spider web.

Evander told the group, “we need to find another way in.” He looked to the walls, “we should climb to gain the high ground and see if we can’t spot where the Sanguinaire is.”

The Monster had just torn the horrors into pieces as rivers of blood sprayed around the room. Ayla tried her best to concentrate on being strong for her friends, her body and thoughts on autopilot as she tried to make sense of the situation, though hopelessly and completely overwhelmed. The monster appeared to be targeting the very things keeping it caged, the threats of which becoming evident as Jocasta suddenly starts drawing and begins to battle with the creature as she puts it within a kinetic grasp which barely held.

"The rest of you," Jocasta quickly murmured, "get out of here. Now."

Her eyes wide with shock as she hears those words, "What about you?". She starts to draw upon her mana, as feeble the amount seems in comparison with the blonde beside her.

Zarina clicks her tongue, “Not unless you come along.”

Jocasta tossed a smile back over her shoulder at them. "Stupid brave," she said. Then, the beast spoke.

"I can understand you," said the monster, grinning evilly.

"We freed you," Jocasta reminded her.

Hoping to catch the monster off-guard with the distraction. Ayla starts to channel her own energy as she begins to reach her limit, "Hear this!" She releases a sonic attack towards the creature, hopefully enough to disorientate and discombobulate her enough so they can use that moment to escape using Jocasta's temporal magic.

The beast, who had seemed on the verge of speaking, flinches for a moment, flaring its nostrils. "Not bad, girl." she hissed. "For that, I shall extract a toll."

---

Click.

Done.

That was all the time it took for her to become a ragdoll.

Become no more alive than one of Ysilla’s puppets.

Ayla was suddenly in the world of darkness as she is currently cut off from seven of her senses, the eighth thundering in their absence as she becomes one with her own body, the deafening which rapidly accelerates as she screams out in the abyss.

Yet for all she may scream, there was only silence.

A deafening silence.

---

A soul trapped in a husk.
Her life has now met its dusk.

The Ultimate Sacrifice for a lie.
Time has come for her to die.

Yet in the sleepful state, she is still wide awake.
Not yet embraced the darkness offered by the Drake.

She moved forward as the darkness parted, breaking through into a light.
Even with all the setbacks, her hopes and dreams burn bright.

Like a rose caught in a breeze,
She will not fall foul of this disease.

As to where fate will sow,
Temptation implores her to know.

As moonlight reflects in her sight, Ayla extends her hand as she plucks the Rose from the air. The attraction was natural as she cups it within her grasp. Lulled in with its beautiful presence. The blue of the petals is electrifying, witnessing the magical energy arcing from it to her. The flower is sizzling within her hand as it dissolves and rises into the air, being breathed in as it fills her being.

Her body enchanted to become true,
the stem entwines as she becomes a gem to shine anew.
A horn calling upon beauty in all its forms to adorn.
May her thorns make love's enemies scorn.
The petals bind to her mettle to bring her wings to soar.
Weaving her thoughts into a stream to create a path that is more than a dream

Ayla looks up into the air as she sees herself as the blue rose. Long blue curls flowing her head, wings like rose petals, elegant and beautiful as she shines as a beacon. The girl before her has the resemblance of one of the Archangels themselves.

Ayla, captivated by her beauty, couldn’t resist moving towards her. No matter the effort, the distance between them doesn’t appear to shorten. She comes to a stop as she reflects. Beauty is not surface deep nor is it shallow, it is the strength of bonds between people. It is the kindness, the love, friendship, and sharing with your companions. As the expression goes, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. It is not the appearance that is appealing, it is the embodiment, what the archangel represents.

As if sensing this change, the being appears to be slowly pulled towards her. Ayla, understanding the message reinforces the commitment to her bonds of friendship. As she loves them, they love her, and this is the true beauty of life.

Ayla and the archangel were face-to-face, she reached out towards her.

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Her senses come to life once again, her body whirring as she feels the intense and almost overwhelming information flood into sensations as the dark mists consume her once again, fading away as the dimmed light shines brighter, soon shapes begin to form, and then the radiance of colour. The moment was only brief as within it, Zarina’s face was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Her friend leaning over her, holding her within her arms, tears in her eyes. The beauty of friendship.

“Was that death…?”

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Location: The Proving Grounds - Ersand’Enise
Day of the week: Taldes
Time: 1:00 HD
Characters: Abdel Saqqaf Aziz @Force and Fury, Evander @RezonanceV, Khaliun, Leander @Creative Chaos, Leon @Animus, Ymiico @Salsa Verde, Yuliya @Suicharte

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Muffled sounds of metal clashing could be heard progressively better as the scouting team roamed near the colosseum. Evander and Ymiico, having opted to climb for a better vantage point, would notice the conspicuous lack of lighting - not only in the arena but also the entirety of the streets surrounding the Proving Grounds. If the gluttonous nature of the Sanguinaire’s recent drinking spree wasn’t enough of a giveaway, the premeditated nature of this whole set up was a powerful red flag to those with any sense. Right over an awning, the two with the highground could witness two shadows going at it over the sands. The sounds remained unnaturally distorted and muffled.

Yuliya, Khaliun and Abdel remained at ground level, the former two out of caution while the latter was quickly convincing himself to barge through the opened gate. ”Wait.” ordered Khaliun to the fired up Abdel. The hooded Vossoriyan sentry turned her head to the left, down the road that circled the grand arena. With a snap of her fingers, she revealed three armoured bodies hidden in the darkness by a statue with a fleeting light ball. They were alive and without any sort of neck wound. ”It is trap.” Khaliun warned, But why all this? the brief silence was broken by Abdel, ”No more waiting, this fiend has hurt enough people!” he rushed into the tunnel. ”Do not follow him.” Khaliun ordered Yuliya as she slowly slipped on a pair of white fur gloves. She didn’t move from her spot.



The Two shadows that stood in the battleground were going at it with speeds that would be hard to follow even with perfect visibility. One was a cloaked figure whose features were hardly distinguishable. If anything, the air around that being appeared almost distorted and straining to the eyes of those that focused too long upon it. The other was an armoured and well-built man with a weapon that could easily be identified as a Langxian. The way he moved and the shape of his armour resembled the elite warriors from Engyu. His stance suggested a strong defence, but he never hesitated to seize the initiative against the being that danced with him. And such brazen offence awarded the Century a direct hit onto the shadowy figure. As visceral as the strike seemed, however, it only appeared to stagger it for a mere second before it moved as if nothing had happened.

With enough attention given to the entirety of the field, those with the vantage point or great reading skills such as Khaliun could pick up on the body left on the sand a good twenty metres away from the two fighters. The clash continued with the century’s armour saving him more than once from the speedy strikes of the alleged Sanguinaire, and in turn another strike was dealt. The mysterious being was repulsed a few feet back and brushed his cheek. Then, the Engyan warrior stomped onto the sand and bellowed a furious roar to blast his foe away. It was loud, but not loud enough for how powerful the blast was - strong enough to make the stone under Evander’s and Ymiico’s feet rumble. And then suddenly the figure was gone. As if they had never existed. There was no echo from the roar, only the crackling of dust and sand settling after the blast.



Behind the immovable warrior was a blurry mass of darkness that had merely tapped his shoulder. He became immovable even toward his own will, helpless to the inevitable drinking that was about to occur. Meanwhile, an exceptionally cold breeze of air brushed right behind Evander. It was as if he could feel a presence behind him the same way the Engyan warrior had just before succumbing to the Sanguinaire’s teeth. And yet the being they were staking out was down there, indulging. The Revidian High Noble would feel the lightest of taps onto his shoulder blade, and he was propelled right toward the arena where the fight had just taken place. Simultaneously to the fight’s unfortunate conclusion, Abdel, who had been keeping back with the bit of restraint he had left, snapped. ”أزله أنت الوحش!” (Unhand him you MONSTER!) the young, fiery paladin dashed forward with flames bursting from the soles of his feet and aimed to tackle the feasting creature.



There was one that wasn’t duped by the many veils that complimented the darkness of the night. Ymiico could see the world for what it was, whether by her own skills as a shinobi or by the will of the being that imposed this warping of perception she could not tell. However, while Evander and Abdel witnessed the Sanguinaire begin to syphon the fluid of life from the Century, she saw the cloaked being already dropping the body and looking straight at her. She could almost swear he was smirking. And then, with speed that greatly outshined even her’s, he was behind her high ground partner and simply shoved him into the arena. The entity, clearly male from his physique now that she could get a good look, stared her down, motionless with his arm still extended after the push.

The illusion had shattered the moment Evander was hurled and Abdel was at range to seize his enemy. It felt like reality itself literally shattered before them with only empty space meeting Abdel’s ire. The Revidian would end up crashing into the Firrazene boy, leaving both of them in the open, right by the unconscious body of the fallen Engyan fighter. ”اللعنة عليك! وحش قذر ...” (Blast it! Foul Beast …) Abdel groaned as he got back up, although Evander could hear none of it. He suffered a terrible case of tinnitus with his head ringing to a near-migraine. He was otherwise fine with Abdel and the sand softening his landing.

Wait, sand? There was no sand. There was no Abdel either. The armoured bodies of the fallen Century no longer appeared rugged and bloodied. No, they were dressed finely with an air of familiarity to them. His vision was still blurry from the landing as well as the incessant buzzing in his head. But as he slowly focused, he came to recognize the Duke Foscari, his own father, lying in a pool of blood with a Langxian planted in his back. Further away was another body, one wearing a traditional wedding dress that was tainted by a fresh layer of crimson. Staring right at him were the hollow eyes of Celestina, recently dead on a velvet carpet. The air around him felt stagnant - he was no longer outdoors. Evander was inside a home, not too different from his, although some of the architecture reeked of Perrench influence. There was also a conspicuous lack of furniture and the ceiling was abnormally high. There was a balcony right at the top with two figures, both looking down at him. One second the one to the left looked like his ally, Ymiico, and then the next it looked exactly like the other one: A hooded, black figure.

The fireplace was crackling and the heat, dull as it may be, could be felt by the young fireblood. It almost felt like a dream - It didn’t feel right, and yet the lucidity was lacking enough to make one willing to accept this as reality. A hand reached out to him, sliding over his shoulder. It was not the same touch as the illusionary foe that had hurled him. No, it was much more tender, ”Sebastian.” it whispered with a feminine voice.



The woman tilted her head as gazes met, and then flashed her hungry, white fangs at him. She was so close, he could feel her hot breath just ready to indulge in his coveted, fiery blood.

”Hey, you alright?!” Abdel had reached out for Evander’s shoulder, checking up on him after that rough landing.

”Sensemaster.” Khaliun kept herself in the shadows and looked up at Ymiico’s direction. Both the Sanguinaire and the Yasoi were up there, while both the Tethered and the Princess could keep discreet for the time being, ”Much stronger than yours.” she concluded, ”We should leave.”

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Location: Merchants’ Quarters, Isabella’s Residence - Commoners' Dormitory
Day of the week: Lepdes
Time: 3:XX HS
Characters: Abdel @YummyYummy, Isabella

This is a reply to an event that takes place before the day of the Dragon.

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”A regular old piece of ribeye might do the trick, but I like to be prepared.” Isabella replied to Abdel’s inquiry. Though she was able to answer him, the seamstress was too focused on her current project to spare her assistant any eye contact. She was working on cutting the buttonholes out of an expensive looking wool doublet. Mineral dye gave it a rich blue color, and gold embroidery was stitched from the sleeves all the way down to the waist in an intricate floral pattern. For the nobleman who commissioned the piece it was just another addition to his overflowing wardrobe. For Isabella, it was the sum of hours upon hours of labor.

”Let’s see here…” Izzy set aside her work in progress and scooped up Abdel’s spoils. She poked her finger at the pile of change he brought back and nodded with approval. It actually didn’t matter whether he brought back any of the errand money or not. Isabella’s profits were guaranteed from the moment she negotiated a price for her commissions. Her noble clientele were essentially idiots with money to burn, so they were happy to overpay three or four times what they should as long as the work was high quality.

Without explanation or warning, Isabella rolled over and threw a lace collar around Abdel’s neck. Lately he had taken the place of the bronze statue she used to model her handiwork on, and she was not shy about treating him like a piece of furniture.

”Interesting.” She mumbled cryptically before removing the collar. Isabella didn’t appear too worried about discussing strategies for the Dragon at the moment. After class, during lunch breaks, and even between stretches of the Trials she was busy with work. If it weren’t for her disability one might even consider her a superwoman.

Abdel froze up like a kitten being pulled by the nape when his employer used his neck as a standard for whatever prototype she was working on. An awkward silence soon followed. Maybe he was scared of what could come next, and avoiding motion could make him invisible to the questionably human specimen he signed his soul to. Although staying put was never Abdel’s strong suit, “... So, the dragon. Yep, I can see this fabric being helpful.” he nodded as his weathered hand passed over the velvet he had brought to Isabella, “Man, I’d work overtime for a new running getup with this fabric.”

There was a predatory look in Isabella’s eye when Abdel made that thoughtless comment. He had no idea what he had just roped himself into.

”That can be arranged.” She smiled as she held up a pair of scissors.

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Location: Proving Grounds, Erasand’Enise

Evander connected his eyes with a tall Yasoi female; her long slender legs and modest frame gave the appearance she was taller than whatever was recorded. Chestnut brown hair blended well into the backdrop of the night with feint glimmers of green and gold from ribbons reflecting the torches flickering light. Standing at the ready, her ears faced Evander, and she pointed upward, “I go high yes?”

Evander nodded,“I think it’s best.” Abdel was already on a crazy train to hell, and the others did not want to enter at all, but they came here to find and slay a monster. You cannot slay a beast without sighting it first. The two of them ascended the walls of the Colosseum. Both lurked in the dark, spotting two shadows standing in the battleground. The sound of steel clashed as each applied force and speed on the other to see who would falter first. Between the darkness and distance, the two battling shadows were difficult to focus on. Evander drew in energy to transform his vision into thermoception. A neat trick he learned from his tutor. The shadowy shapes became easier to observe, yet still difficult to keep track of regarding their precise strikes and defenses.

One certainly was identifiable. His broad shoulders arched over large arms while holding up armor that could not be mistaken as anything less than important. He was a physical man, holding rooted stances that defined his posture as defensive more than aggressive. Most likely a Century protecting the Proving Grounds from whatever the shadowy figure was beneath the cloak. The heat signature from the cloaked figure was much harder to read. Its movements were supernatural and disturbing. There was no continuity to the strikes; they appeared to shift in and out of reality. As the two battled, the Century struck true, a visceral stab to the cloaked figure. Evander saw the Century land his attack and another until the cloaked figure was sent a few feet back. The Century roared like a bear about to charge a predator in the wild. The stone beneath Evander’s feet shook, and he placed one hand down to keep his focus on the fight.

He saw the cloaked figure dissipate as if turned to dust from the Century’s roar. What Evander saw next was otherworldly. In the blink of an eye, the shadowy figure emerged out of the aether shrouded in a dark form. Its hand tapped the Century’s shoulder. Evander could nearly feel the bitter chill that Century must be experiencing, what is this-, cut short from finishing his thought, the Sanguinaire’s teeth ripped into the Century’s neck. Before Evander could react, he too felt a tap on his shoulder, no. A pressure burst struck his back as the air smacked his face. He was hurled to the middle of the Colosseum, hitting something. Laying on the ground disoriented, he felt around… loose sand and cold air. His sight faded, and everything else was a high-pitched sound.

Evander went to pick himself up, yet, the ground seemed to shift. No longer sand. He had been facing down, now turning around, the battlefield clean of any bodies. Instead, he lies in a home, recognizing his father lying in a pool of blood with the Century’s weapon wedged in his back. Another body in a wedding dress painted in crimson red with a familiar young female’s face and hollow eyes staring at his. Evander’s emotions boiled red; he began drawing heat from his surrounding as a reaction to his fury. His draw was so intense that even his family ring began to increase in charge. Feelings of anger kept back his tears from shedding, “wait…” Evander noticed something odd.

Why isn’t the fire reacting? Evander thought. The fireplace kept crackling even as he drew in heat from his environment - that’s not right his gut was saying. Before pulling his mind back from being in a colosseum to now a rather large home standing in a den, a hand slid over his shoulder; it was a different touch than the forceful one earlier. This one was a gentle touch with a whisper following instead. The sound of a delicate female tone caressed his earlobe, “Sebastian,” the only word said.

It did not click immediately, who? The woman was now in front of Evander, her gaze seething deep into his. Suddenly, a flash of white fangs and a hot breath came out before Evander could stop her.

He felt helpless…

No! Evander then blasted his name,“I AM EVANDER FINO SYNESTI, I WILL NOT FORGET WHO I AM!” A swelling of anger and heat, a surge of fire grew in him like a raging furnace about to explode. The sight of his dead father and sister could not be real, and if this thing killed them... he'd burn it!

Location: Notice Board, Grand Plaza of Ersand’Enise
Characters: Zarina @YummyYummy, Zarra @BreathOfTheWoof, Ingrid @dragonpiece, Kaspar @wolfieh, and Maura @Ti.


Maura looks as Zazzy antagonises the yasoi, who now swears in some unknown dialect with colourful rephrasing using the word yanii before walking off. She strokes down her skirt as she sighs out, “Guess you scared off our chef.”

“Oh well,” Zarina shrugs, “We'll find another. Probably.”

Maura rolls her eyes as she mulls over the accusations levelled towards her as taking an unusual pleasure in slaughtering endangered species. “Well, we need to recruit at least one more… and if we are going to go through with your idea, we would need at least a couple more on top of that still.”.

Fortunately more students turn up as Maura recognised them. The boy with charcoal still on his hands, Kaspar. The very tall Eskandish girl. Ingrid, who gave Ayla pan-pipes came too, though accompanied by a diminutive blonde boy.

“Ah, you three want to join us on this job? It is Operation Snowsweepered!


For the new folks, feel free to express your character's views in a reply to this post on saving the Snowsweeper rather than serving it up. Feel free interact with some of the other NPC’s on Discord channel if you require further information for your post.
- There is a Perrench Gourmet food fanboy. He has a disturbing amount of passion when it comes to food.
- There is the Huulendamn boy. He seems to have a keen ear to the ground when it comes to the rumours. Are the sources reliable? This sounds like a golden cash cow if it proves to be true.
- There is the Belzagg girl and her friend. They are against the cruelty of animals, especially the reported Snowsweeper. We eat cattle all the time, so why would a Snowsweeper be any different, isn’t it just a large Eskandish cow?

Even if your goal is to save the Snowsweeper, the first step is going to be the same. You will have to win this Gourmet Grill-off using any means possible.

Your task is to go to the Au Boeuf Rouge and participate against other students from the academy in the hosted Food War, with the judge Marquis Blaise Beauregard overseeing the selection process.

Do you have what it takes to be Sipenta's next MasterChef?

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Location: Ersand'Enise

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Interactions:

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Ingrid was elated to be back in her homeland for this leg of the race. Though she was a weary. She knows things are supposed to be dangerous but she couldn't help but feel that there might be a few deaths from people's sabotage and underestimating these mountains. As a local, Ingrid was very aware of the dangers these mountains could pose. A saving grace was that because of our numbers, we are likely not going to become simple prey. This was dragon territory through and through.

Ingrid brought some of her own personal gear. She had some decent gear given to her by her family when she went to the mines in the south. It was a disappointingly tight fit on her. I feel like all the training I did with Desmond is just vanishing after just one pastry. Ingrid missed her more limber years when she was strong and fit. She thinks she might need to up the level of her training to make up for all the food. But when she starts to think of the dedication, the pain, the soreness she quickly rescinds herself to starting later. At some point. Maybe.

Ingrid has made one decision though. She is going to have fun. She is searching for fun treasures and maybe a dragon egg or 5. She needs money but at this point they are going to make it or not. A lot of things don't really matter. Ingrid has no idea how Ismette and Desmond time is going so she is just going to enjoy some cider and talk to some of her competitors, spreading some tips on how to stay safe. She would rather people not die. She talks to some friends. Dick around with Chad and let him know how appreciative she is of him for agreeing to search as well. She seems super comfortable here, genuinely happy even. They were waiting for a while it felt when her teammate bursted through and they were off!

Ingrid had expected herself to be perfectly fine with the air but the sudden change in atmosphere made breathing harder than expected. She felt slow at the start but they ended up keeping a consistent pace even as the steepness increased. Their plan of managing a infinity loop together really helped with the lack of available power on the mountain with so many competitors trying to scale it at the same time. The climbing wasn't difficult if that was all they had to worry about. Fending off multiple sabotage attempts slowed them down.

Then the true challenge came when Augusto dislodged a snow sheet from the mountain causing a cascading avalanche. Ingrid was caught off guard and was swept away. Chad and her were separated Ingrid used kinetic magic to slide on top of the snow. Ingrid indicated to the safety staff that she was okay even though she was sliding over the cliff edge. She drew from her own fall to slow then soften the inevitable impact. She was a little raddled and was surprised that someone would just do that. Either way she needed to continue on.

Lots of dragons were riled up from the avalanche, some were weaseling out of the snow and were trying to get into the knocks and crannies of bald mountain side. Ingrid started to scale the mountain, taking in the breath taking scenery. The pure white snow contrasting with the shards of obsidian made this one of her favorite places. She wants to go exploring… Okay just a little. She sees how the mountain comes in a little and goes generally in the direction she needs to go.

The amount of obsidian spike was increasing and made it difficult to move through confidently, Although the obsidian was black, it reflected light and made it hard to not just stare at the ground. She has to keep her eyes up and drew to lessen how many time she was blinded from the obsidian. She was cautious because their could be rope dragons at any time. Something long and slender appeared from the corner of her eye and she jumped back, cracking into and obsidian spike. It hurt a little but she was ready face her assailant! She drew in the light around her, aimed and then all she saw was a sword half way encased in obsidian… Ingrid couldn't help but laugh at herself, "Yes. The most powerful enemy, a sword stuck in some obsidian." Ingrid had a good laugh at herself before inspecting the sword.

The first thing she noticed was the craft of the sword, it was beautiful although the pummel and handle looked worn. Either way she would have to remove it to view the engravings properly. She chipped the obsidian away using a metal pick enhanced by kinetic energy. When she finally freed the sword she could read the name of the sword, Bjorn. From the motif, majesty, and approximate age this was most likely the sword of Bjorn Coldfist, an artifact that doesn't deserve to be left in the snow.

Ingrid felt satisfied with her exploring and dashed off to catch up. She got lucky that her way ended up being on track for the finish. It was a long climb but she uses kinetic leaps to dangerously bound up the mountain. She was able to meet up with Chad who proudly showed off his fossilized poop. The kept going, both on the proper path. The got the peg and started to ski down the slope, screaming the entire way, Ingrid out of pure joy and Chad out of pure terror. They could hear the ice crack when they went over it and Ingrid just froze it again to keep herself going. They passed through, Ingrid came 8th!!!.

She went back through to watch other people come through. Sven has a big dragon egg and she eagerly celebrated with him but before they could go together to the festivities where the next leg of the race was happening, she was grabbed by some friends to go on another adventure. She gave Sven a big hug goodbye and waved to Benny who was finishing up.