So, Lilann wasn’t showing her cards yet either. But Cerric’s response, still confusing for its utter lack of the spine-chilling fear Kyreth thought the topic warranted, was cut off when the last member of their merry band showed up, panting and wheezing. Kyreth cringed as he watched Eila get chewed out; it was uncomfortable enough to see Eila in such a state of disorder, but Cerric’s dressing-down was a good warning to them all of the consequences of screwing up. Looking between the scene and Lilann, Kyreth was glad he, at least, wasn’t personally responsible for the success of the escort mission - but on the other hand, it could be argued that his own responsibilities were much greater. If he screwed up, the consequences would be a lot more dire than a failed contract and a discount…

Suppressing a shudder, Kyreth turned away from the display, looking to Lilann. “One hell of a poker face, huh?” he commented under his breath, gesturing to Cerric as he climbed the wagon. Quietly, the faintest hint of trepidation tinted his voice. “Do you think he really doesn’t know? Or does he know something we don’t?”

The latter would be preferable, clearly. It was very hard to believe Cerric had no idea what was in the woods; if he did know, and he was still so eerily calm about it, then maybe they could be calm too. Maybe Cerric had everything under control and there was nothing to worry about.

Somehow Kyreth had a hard time believing that.

He shook his head, not wanting to dwell on the subject. There would be time to get answers from Cerric later, assuming they were lucky and he’d be forthcoming with them. For the moment, Kyreth chose to believe that Lord Mystralath trusted Cerric for a reason, and if he was going to learn to fit in with their “little family,” then that would have to be enough for him, too. Easier said than done.

Instead of dwelling on the topic, Kyreth adjusted his pack on his shoulder, waving Eila over and shepherding the three of them out of the way of the wagon. “Good morning Eila, nice to see you,” he greeted warmly, deciding not to address the woman’s general state of disarray.

As Ms. Buckman sounded her warning, Kyreth shrugged, opting to keep his pack on him; no need to take up space on the wagon when he wasn’t even really part of the detail. Looking between Eila and Lilann, though, he frowned, noticing Lilann sported nothing but the same satchel she had on when they arrived yesterday.

“Wait, Lilann, where’s your bag?” he asked, brow furrowing. For a ten day trip, she should have been dragging a pack of rations almost as big as she was, but there was nothing. “Didn’t you bring any food?”

---

Well, she took that better than Ceolfric had expected. Or maybe his nonchalance had reassured her that there was nothing to fear. For her, there probably wasn't; she'd be the last one in the line of fire, and he doubted a creature would find reason to chase a wagon full of magic grass over a cohort of tasty mercenaries. Maybe they could feed the elven woman to it and run, she certainly looked in no shape to be doing this job. The late arrival was negligible in Ceolfric's eyes, but the disheveled state Eila arrived in was simply pitiful. She'd be winded three strokes into a swordfight at this rate.

Speaking of Agitha's monster, he'd have a problem if they stumbled upon the thing unaware and those idiots all got themselves bitten carelessly. He doubted he could get Cerric to stall while he whisked them all away to gather in a conspiratorial circle for a briefing either, to say nothing of how that would impact their evaluation. Loudly blurting it out would've been his plan of choice, if not for the fact that they'd probably be demerited for spooking the client, even if she did take the news better than Ceolfric had expected. Which, lest he throw himself to the fickle whims of fate, left him one recourse; playing his hand early.

Then again, depending on how much these people knew about Aetherborn, they might understand the cards he had to play better than he did himself.

Ceolfric stepped away from the rear of the wagon and moved back contemplatively, as if evaluating where to take up position. And at first, he did, though it was a quick decision - other than perhaps Storyborn, he was likely the only one that would possibly spot a problem before they chanced upon it through anything but sheer luck, so he'd be most effectively relegated to the forward guard. Afterward, Ceolfric's act served only to give him a good vantage of the rest of the group. The Buckman girl already knew enough, so he needn't waste the effort on her, and Cerric was far too much of a wild card to bring into his confidence. If his intel was lacking, that was his own fault; Ceolfric's evaluation didn't hinge on the blue-skinned man's preparedness, only the group's.

"I'll take the front, if there are no objections," Ceolfric called as he leisurely made his way past the cart. His hand raised at his side idly and his fingers curled inward, touching middle finger to thumb as he sought his targets. Four presences, close proximity, burning brightly but not as vibrantly as Cerric. Aether pooled on his tongue, as sweet as honey even as it crept up to burn his nostrils like incense. The bandit's lips parted, forcing the aether out aloft a sharp hiss of air as a muffled snap from his gloved hand sparked it into action.

'Before we get moving, you should all be forewarned,' Ceolfric's voice hissed into the ears of each of his follow Bounty House hopefuls, a whisper on the wind somewhere between an assassin looming over them just before their throat was slit and a lover embracing them from behind, 'The story about animals attacking the caravan routes is a cover-up for some type of monster - big, lots of teeth, and its bites hold some kind of magic or toxin that turns you into a walking corpse. The account I heard had it appear in the midst of a rainstorm, which we're about to march right into. So try to stay alert.'

'Oh, and don't look around cluelessly or try to respond. I'll spare you the ignominy of gleaning your thoughts; we can follow up when Buckman's out of earshot.'

His message completed, Ceolfric offered only a sly gaze backward, as if to confirm that he was indeed the source of their sudden auditory hallucination and they hadn't been assaulted by a passing fae.

---

@Obscene Symphony@McMolly@Hero@Trainerblue192

---

Damned, but she’d about given up trying to read Cerric. He had in impossible way about him, an unhinged sort of charisma that inclined her to believe him, at the same time that it cast the shadow of doubt on his every word. For some, sincerity was the cost for sincerity, but he seemed to only pay in halves—which was fair, for she’d tried to cheat him on the deal herself. To be entirely honest, the thought of what his true sincerity might entail disturbed her.

“I suspect we could fill libraries with the things he knows that we don’t,” she replied to Kyreth just as quietly. “For now, I’m choosing to believe that works in our favor, or it least in our client’s.”

She stood aside from the wagon with him, nodding a greeting to Eila. She allowed herself a small amount of pity for the woman, strictly on account of her inexplicable kindness towards Kyreth the other day. Technically Cerric’s warnings were right, but she suspected his dressing down of Eila was meant more as a message to the lot of them. Professionalism was expected, standards were paramount.

“Wait, Lilann, where’s your bag?”

Shit.

“Shit.” She flipped hopelessly through her satchel, as if ten days’ worth of rations might be hiding beneath the whittling knife. Dammit all, she’d lost so much time yesterday, and that infuriatingly cryptic dream had occupied her mind all morning.

“Looks like I’ll be sampling the flavors of the Finnagund wilds,” she said, trying not to sound as dejected as she felt. Hunting would be more than a little difficult, considering she’d lost her sword. She’d foraged before, on the longer and less fortunate journeys back in Dranir, but most of her life had been spent earning her food through performance. Somehow, she doubted the woods would trade game for tavern gossip. “I’ll try to keep away from mushrooms, but if I start hallucinating, Kyreth, do make sure I don’t embarrass myself.”

As if fate meant to mock her, the brute’s voice invaded her mind and there was a quiet jolt from Lilann as she strangled a yelp to death beneath her mask. His warning not to look around came too late, but with her face hidden she was at least subtle about it. A knot formed in her gut at what he told them. She wanted to scream at him, say: I saw it! but she kept herself calm. Hopefully they would have a chance to convene before the storm—and whatever might be dwelling within it—were upon them.

“Kyreth,” she spoke softly, keeping up beside him. “That’s it. That’ll be the beast.”

She fished through her satchel once more, and though she still found nothing behind the little knife, she plucked it up anyway and slid it into her belt. A sword it was not, but it was better than nothing.

Ermes tried not to roll his eyes. It would only make sense that such a simple person would be taken back by his appearance. The question now was if she landed amongst the ones who loathed him, or the ones who could look past it and work alongside him. He noticed her gaze turning towards another, seeing as Eila finally began to arrive, coming in with apologies already bubbling out like a waterfall. He couldn't tell if it was good manners, or practiced words she'd had to say back home. When Cerric brought up that her failure was everyone else's, Ermes couldn't help but suddenly find the dirt road very interesting. Damn it. It was decided, he'd have to start keeping tabs on the others' whereabouts should they team up again. Next time they'll get a rude awakening before being late.

Esvelee's call broke him out of his thoughts, watching her as she stood right next to him and wondering if Eila would dare delay the mission any further by wanting to place her stuff within the cart. He watched with bated breath, when Kyreth called out to Eila, sending a tinge of jealousy through Ermes again. Why was he even here? Wasn't he supposed to be widdling wood or something? Ceolfric left his side and Ermes took that as a sign to get moving, giving Esvelee a short bow before making hisbway towards the left side of the covered wagon. He rounded the corner of the cart, moving out of the client's view when a familiar voice appeared right behind him. His hands swiftly went towards his sword, thumb pressed against the handguard ready to strike.

Ermes looked around carefully, subtly, but no one was around him. He spied Ceolfric standing there, and then began to relax his composure and listen. "Damn it Ceolfric! Warn someone next time. I thought we were already being attacked. sigh Anyways thank you for the -" Ceolfrics third message rang in and Ermes sighed silently to himself. The man was useful, but a nuisance already and his sly look back was enough to want to kick his face in. But his information was sound, and possibly tied into whatever Cerric and the tainted twins were whispering about again. "I'll watch this side I suppose, unless Ceolfric would like another upfront to ensure the horse's don't block his view." Sure it would mean splitting up the tainted, but if Kyreth was going to take from their pot he needed to work too.

Esvelee tucked Eila’s bag out of sight within the red fern and patted the side of the wagon as she came around, taking Cerric’s proffered hand as she stepped up. “Alright, ladies and gentlemen and things of all kinds, we embark on your first foray into greatness! While not the stuff of legends yet, I have no doubt you’ll excel and join the ranks of adventurers known for their heroism and bravery, cunning and kindness. All heroes need their first step. I suggest you don’t falter.” Cerric offered with a grin and clapped his hands together. Esvelee shot him a strange look but snapped the reins nonetheless, jolting the horse into action and taking the cart towards the forest.

---

Although the first day seemed likely to rain, not a drop of water came down. The wind bit cold as the day neared its end and the skies darkened even further but the journey stayed dry into the late afternoon as the light struggled to break both cloud and foliage. The Snakeburrow woods had started to show their autumn colors and some few had already drifted to the ground, more as the wind tore through the branches. The well worn path didn’t stray from its course, barely winding through the trees as the group plodded on.

Thankfully, the first day was relatively uneventful with the exception of a panicked boar bursting onto the trail and then charging past into the undergrowth on the other side of the path. No explanation was offered for the situation as no further noise could be heard and even a cursory glance from the trail's edge offered nothing but a path of snapped twigs and gouts in the earth from the upset animal. Cerric seemed unconcerned and waved it off, keeping the group on track.

Now, as the light faded from the trail, Esvelee pulled off the side of the trail and elad the group a short distance into the woods where a clearing opened up. Clearly a well used rest area for this leg of the journey, the vegetation was mostly beaten into packed dirt through overuse and a vague wooden structure could serve as a water trough. A circle of stones around a small pit offered a little spot for fires but otherwise, the area was empty. Esvelee pulled the cart around the circle away from the road and hopped down to stretch her legs.

“Aight, so here’s the first stop. There are a bunch of these along the side of the road here since this is the only clear way through the woods. Normally, the Duke’s men patrol the routes but with most soldiers gettin’ sent up to God’s know where, they don;t have the manpower anymore.`` Esvelee sighed as she twisted out the faint ache in her back.

“Well, seems like a great time for some camp set up and watch splitting!” Cerric cheerfully stated. “If anyone needs their waterskins refilled, please leave them on the back of the cart and I’ll top ‘em off.”

Kyreth regarded Lilann with a sympathetic half-smile, appreciating her humour but still pitying her her mistake. However, he did not despair; any other time, Lilann would be in a serious bind, but luckily for her Kyreth had come into some luck of his own.

“Don’t worry Lilann, I have plenty,” he offered her, gesturing with the sack over his shoulder. By the weight of it, he was certain he had enough food to split with Lilann over the course of their journey; if he could make it from Straithmoor to Soft Haven on a pocketful of dried fish skins and handfuls of berries, he could manage on half rations for ten days. He smiled supportively. “We can share.”

However, no sooner had the words left his mouth than the murmur of another voice appeared directly behind him, whispering warnings of savage beasts that came out in rainstorms. Ceolfric’s warning came too late; as soon as the voice manifested, Kyreth had whirled around to face the nonexistent stranger - or, perhaps, to run away from it - his heart racing even as their companion explained himself. A sharp glare in Ceolfric’s direction was his only response, as Kyreth was quickly distracted by Lilann’s whispers.

Kyreth looked down at her in surprise, but left it at that; the cart was starting to move, and it was time to take their places. Though he admitted it begrudgingly after that little assault, Ceolfric had a point; they could tell ghost stories when Ms. Buckman was out of earshot.

Before taking up his spot near the rear of the cart, though, Kyreth remembered that he was here for a reason. As the cart - and the group - started to pull away, he paused, turning away from the noise of wheels and hoofbeats and closing his eyes to draw a deep breath. After a moment of settling, his senses awoke to the aether in the area, dense and bright at once, flowing gently toward the town as if on a soft breeze. The nervous buzzing in his limbs had yet to cease, and now Kyreth saw why; despite his lack of any real frame of reference, even he could tell that the aether in Soft Haven was dense, and something pulled it inwards to the town proper, like water circling a drain. He didn’t understand the why of it, but he took note of it for comparison later, allowing himself one more slow breath before hurrying to catch up with the wagon team.


Fortunately, despite Lilann’s suspicion and Ceolfric’s warnings, the day passed largely without incident, the team winding slowly through the Snakeburrow Woods with little more than a frightened pig to startle them. In fact, other than that single scare, the trip was kind of pleasant; the rain never ended up falling and Lilann filled the hours with stories and songs, making it that much easier to forget the threat of monsters hanging over their heads. Kyreth could see how she managed the money for her lyre and (now missing) sword - he’d have kept walking all night listening to her, forgetting the soreness in his shoulder or the holes in his boots. He still kept an eye out for threats, of course - old habits died hard, and if he was going to hitchhike on the rest of the group’s job then he might as well be useful - but it would have been easy to forget and get lost in Lilann’s tales of far-off lands and ancient heroes.

Night was beginning to gather when they finally did stop, and it was only then that the full force of Kyreth’s fatigue came to bear on him. He gratefully dropped his pack when they reached the clearing, working out the stiff knots in his shoulders as the others found their spots. Damn, he was used to traveling, but traveling with luggage was a whole different beast. He supposed it had its merits, though, as he unfurled the top and pulled out a portion of food wrapped in oilcloth. Definitely better than fish skins, the rations consisted of a good-sized chunk of hardtack, some dried meat, and even a few slices of dried apple. Lord Mystralath was generous indeed.

“Here,” Kyreth told Lilann, kneeling down and placing the unwrapped bundle on a hard spot of ground. Producing his knife, he jabbed the point into the middle of the hardtack biscuit, thumping the pommel with his palm a few times until the rocklike biscuit split roughly in half. Careful not to drop any crumbs, he pocketed half the biscuit and a slice of the dried meat, wrapping the remainder and the apple slices back up in the cloth and handing it to Lilann. “That should do you for the night, I think. No need for mushrooms.” He grinned.

Reassembling his pack, he shouldered it once more and made his way back to the cart, putting his waterskin with the others, but lingered as the others spread out in the clearing. When he and Cerric were the only ones around the water trough, he cleared his throat.

“Evening, Mr. Liadon,” he greeted, offering a token smile before immediately tripping over his own tongue. What was he supposed to say? ‘Thanks for making sure I don’t burn the forest down’? ‘Sorry to crash your escort party with my martially incompetent ass’? Gods, he felt like a little sibling begrudgingly taken along at his mother’s command, not a student, or an apprentice, or even a simple traveler. As soon as he spoke, he fell awkwardly silent again, grabbing the strap of his pack en lieu of the back of his neck.

“I… wanted to thank you. For having me along. And for… well, supervising, I guess,” he finally said, momentarily distracted by the sound of a flint striking. He glanced suspiciously over to where one of their number was starting a fire in the pit, and shifted so as to put Cerric between himself and the distant flames. “I hope I’m not making your job much harder,” he continued quietly, “I don’t want to be a burden on their evaluation, so if there’s anything I can do, by all means…”

Kyreth trailed off, distracted by the fire. To his credit, he was rather more used to starting to offer help than finishing it; normally, whenever he tried, he was chased away before he had the chance to finish his sentence.

---

Lilann had not expected to stay dry, or alive even, if she let herself be as cynical as she ought to have been. However, by the time Esvelee pulled them off the road they were both, and she was not about to complain. Telling stories with her nerves on the fray had been an exercise for her composure, and she was mildly proud for keeping herself together. Entertaining people with a black eye or a bruised lip was one thing, but no mask could hide a quavering voice or a scattered mind. Thankfully she’d avoided both.

Look at you, acting like a professional.

As far as audiences went, her companions fell on the acceptable side of ‘didn’t try to kill me,’ so she couldn’t complain. Kyreth especially had been quite receptive, and while she’d delighted in his fascination, it also gnawed at her to view him as a listener. So often she held a silent disdain for the crowds she tended, nearly to equal the subjects of her stories. And as she walked, lyre strumming, spinning her tales, she’d met his eyes and seen the wonder in them, and for a single, involuntary moment she hated him.

In the next moment she felt incredibly guilty. Didn’t trip her up though—professionalism and all that—but she was more careful. The feeling had settled by the time they’d come to a stop, which lasted all of a few minutes before Kyreth offered her some of his rations.

Gods, if she ate it now she might be sick. She didn’t deserve this, but then, it seemed that wasn’t really her call.

“Kyreth—” she said, as he turned back for the cart. She doffed her mask, offered him a smile that probably didn’t seem as grateful as she meant it to. “Thank you.”

Alone, she tested her stomach on the hardtack. When it stayed down, she let herself nibble on the rest, but despite having eaten nothing all day, hunger had fallen to the back of her mind. What came to the front, regrettably, was Ceolfric. Kyreth had Cerric busy, and with any luck, Esvelee would be distracted as well. It was as good a time as any.

She slung her mask to her belt. As much as she would have preferred an extra layer between her and the hedgeman, she gained nothing hiding from him on this matter. So, bucking up, she made her way over to him.

“Hey, sst!” she hissed, keeping her voice low. “We need to talk about your message. Your friend and I are recently acquainted.”

Looking around, there wasn’t exactly a great place to talk inconspicuously. Yes, it was darkening, and the others were busy, but they were in a clearing and if the two of them just wondered off to the shadowed fringes, they might draw Esvelee’s attention. Or worse, Cerric’s. She had half a mind to ask him to use his magic, see if they could simply think at each other, but perhaps it was unwise to waste the aether. As much as she disliked the man, he was doubtlessly the best fighter among them—perhaps discounting their chaperone—and if things turned poorly in the night, they’d all be better off with him at full capacity.

---

Whatever sense of security Ceolfric might’ve cultivated before they departed was promptly dashed shortly into the trip. Cerric was fucking with him, clearly, though the bandit wasn’t quite sure how he’d done it. If there was a powerful Aetherborn perched atop the wagon before, there certainly wasn’t now - at least as far as he could register. The temptation to pry into his seemingly undefended head was strong, but the threat of being caught was stronger, and Ceolfric dared not make a move until he understood the game. Either the elf wanted to signal to them that he’d be no help in the coming task, or he intended to pose as a harmless caravaneer to get the drop on anything with magical senses.

Ceolfric hoped it was the latter.

Lilann’s caterwauling would’ve been welcome ambience to a seedy drinking hall, but out on the road where a demon was known to lurk, it was little more than an annoying distraction. Several times, he was tempted to shut her up, but any threats that got past all of his other senses and only tipped him off by sound were likely already in the midst of pouncing on him anyway. Thankfully, the frayed nerves were for naught, as they arrived dry and unhindered at their first stop. It made sense; any threats too near to the city would be handled more promptly - if the guard did their jobs, anyway - and any highwaymen with a brain would park themselves further out.

Just as he was about to start on dinner, the songstress herself rounded the wagon to pester him. With how destitute he seemed, Freckles probably didn’t have enough to share and she had come seeking rations to bum off of him. What escaped her mouth drew a wary glance from the bandit, and he curtly nodded before stepping out into view of the others. Unexpected, but not unwelcome. Surely she’d be better at collecting rumors than him, now that he thought about it.

“Storyborn and I are going to scout the area. If you get a pot boiling, don’t take it off the fire until we return,” Ceolfric called in a bored monotone. He offered no room for objection, despite the elven woman’s glaring, and beckoned Lilann along as he drew his cloak about him and paced into the brush.

Once he’d put a respectable distance between them and the camp, he finally deigned to acknowledge his fellow mercenary.

“This better not be another tall tale.”

Lilann cocked a brow at him. She seemed uncertain, glancing back towards the wagon as if she was afraid someone might still hear them. Eventually she acquiesced, and her attentions turned to the trees.

“I can’t make you believe me,” she said. “But what are the odds there are two giant, toothy beasts that drain the wits of their prey walking around?”

Her hat bobbed as she nodded back to the camp. “I got curious yesterday, went looking for the ghoul from the other night. I found it, about an hour or so outside of the town, and nearly wound up its dinner in my…escape. Cost me my sword, you might have noticed.”

“Liadon sent me.” She looked up at him, though most of the light that had previously soaked her hair and eyes blue was dim and gone. “He knew right where I’d find it, and I’m not entirely convinced he expected me to return. Now here he is, on a route where we could very well run into it again. I’ve no love for Fate, but this doesn’t feel like chance to me.”

Ceolfric’s steps paused momentarily as he listened, though he quickly recovered and once again started trudging through the woods in a lazily simulacrum of reconnaissance. Might as well do what he’d claimed they were going to while they were out here. The bit about Cerric was worrisome, to say the least, though he had no idea what the man stood to gain from… any of this.

“The demon born from the orc’s dying breath? That he claimed was a farce?” And, more importantly, that he also claimed had been looming over them while they slept the night before. “He seems intent on not drawing attention to himself. Did you feel him change when we left? Ever since we left the city, I can barely sense him anymore. I assumed at first it was because he intended for us to handle the entire mission, but if he intends to use us as demon bait…” Ceolfric’s words trailed off thoughtfully.

“What else did you see? And - more importantly - how do you intend to do your job without a weapon?”

“I don’t I have any measure of him I could rely on. Before, I might have doubted he would put our client in danger to draw out a monster, but now…”

She hesitated at his question—both parts. Without her mask, there was only the dark to obscure the anxious twitch in her eyes. “I’m an aetherborn,” she said at last. “The sword’s a formality. Besides, its hide is thick as sin—we may have to get creative, should it find us. Cerric would be of help, though I’m unsure he’d involve himself. Kyreth I trust, and you, I hope, are as tough as you put on to be. I can’t speak on Ermes and Eila.”

Ceolfric merely grunted in acknowledgement. She could trust Kyreth all she wanted, but he’d lose a grapple with a wet blanket as far as the bandit could tell. People feared him once, and now his prowess gets tossed around in the same breath as a nervous farmhand.

“Toughness won’t be an issue, but impenetrable skin might. I hope its mind will prove easier to pierce, or else we’ll be stuck dancing around while we try to gouge out its eyes,” he mused with a self-satisfied grin, “I wouldn’t count on the pampered lady or the kid to offer much in the way of support either, so we’ll have to hope it doesn’t rip them to shreds and then raise their corpses against us.”

“Hopefully. I’m not in the habit of killing children and pretty women.”

She paused, arms folded in thought, staring quite intently at nothing. “It doesn’t feel right. If Cerric knows about the beast, I can’t imagine Mystralath doesn’t as well. And if that’s the case, why leave it be for so long? For posterity? Just to say ‘Look! Our Bounty House slew the big fuckoff demon’? Sure it’s a good story, but the risk. I feel like a piece in someone’s game, and I don’t even know who’s playing.”

Lilann might not be in that business, but Ceolfric certainly was. Not that he’d enjoy having to fend off zombies while they contended with the beast even if he did want them both dead.

“Exactly my thoughts. He has nothing to gain here and there’s easier ways to get rid of us that wouldn’t endanger a paying customer.” The brigand swiveled his gaze across their surroundings before continuing. “I’m not certain the entire House is in accord either. The old crone - err, Hawthorne had a few choice words about Aleka; apparently people only leave their little island at their liege’s behest, and I can’t imagine the Verazians and the Mystraleths are perfectly aligned in their agendas. If that humorless bore can manage it, I don’t see why a cunning man like Liadon couldn’t sneak his own interests past the man in charge.”

Lilann let out a small, mirthless chuckle. “I’d say I regret all this, but, I did come here for an interesting story,” she said, glancing up at him again. It was an appraising look, one that ended on the hilt of his sword.

“You’re calm for all this. Most of the brigands I’ve seen crumble in the face of an enemy that fights back. Get up to much demon slaying back in Dranir?”

“Would you rather I piss myself and not offer a solution?” Ceolfric countered in an equally humorless manner. While he would’ve relished the opportunity to give a notorious legend-peddler intimate knowledge of his demonic ties normally, his reputation needed a finer touch in these civilized lands. If this job didn’t work out, it’d be a pain to be run out of Soft Haven because a few imbeciles overheard his saga sung in the tavern.

“I am not ‘most brigands’. Most brigands are only fit to serve. They used to say I was the spawn of a succubus. It’s why I could make people obey,” he rambled, halfway deflecting the question, “The truth is, it’s because they’re weak. This is not the first demon I’ve encountered, but I can’t say I have a record of slaying them, least of all ones as imposing as you claim the Rancor to be.”

Lilann hesitated, frowning with apparent worry, then stark curiosity, as though she were deciding whether or not to believe him. She didn’t seem afraid, though fear took many unobvious forms, and her eyes did quickly dart back to the trees. Eventually she smirked, like she’d remembered something funny.

“‘Ceolfric, Demon-Spawn.’” she said with quiet theatricality, shrugging with her lips. “It has a nice ring to it.”

Whatever else he’d given her to consider went unvoiced, though in the dark, her hair pulsed once in a deep blue, before blackening once again.

“I won’t move against Cerric—not that I imagine I could if I wanted to. Perhaps if we pass this little test, our employer will see fit to give us some answers,” she said. “But either way, that’s all I’ve got. Will you pass it on to the others?”

Ceolfric leveled a contemplative gaze back to Lilann as she assigned him a moniker. Had she heard of his father before? Ceolfric himself? Or was that just her jester’s brain coming up with how she’d repeat this to a bunch of drooling drunkards? It mattered little if they ended up Rancor food, so he supposed he had bigger issues to ponder.

“I intended to anyway. I considered trying to infiltrate Cerric’s thoughts too, but until I’m certain he couldn’t detect me - or worse - I figured it’d be too much of a gamble,” the bandit admitted as he altered his path back toward the camp they’d embarked from.

“That’s probably wise. So long as we keep the Buckman woman between us and him, I don’t think he poses any direct danger. Though if you find me mysteriously drowned in the morning, feel free to write ‘idiot’ in the long, touching eulogy I’m sure you’ll write for me.”

She followed him, not closely, though it seemed her nerves were soothed the closer they drew to the camp’s light.

“And if you happen to know any particularly charitable demons, I’m sure we’d all appreciate the help.”

Damn it, she’d puzzled him out, hadn’t she?

“Don’t know any of them personally either, I’m afraid,” Ceolfric responded dryly, “And I don’t think a single one exists that could be called ‘charitable’.” As the camp came back into range, the man cleared his cloak with his left arm, as if he’d intended to draw his blade. Instead, he raised a different weapon, repeating his earlier snap and exhalation combo far more flamboyantly in the absence of onlookers.

Once again, Ermes, Kyreth, and Eila would hear a whisper breathing down the back of their neck, ‘Hello again. Storyborn claims she’s seen the beast, following Cerric’s directions. He may be setting us up, but that’s just speculation. Stay on your guard anyway and keep your conversations about this out of earshot - or don’t, but don’t expect me to save you. Oh, and apparently it’s got a hide like armor, so plan accordingly.’

A few moments after the message rang out, Ceolfric emerged innocently from the treeline, Lilann in tow shortly behind.

“All clear.”

---

@Obscene Symphony@Hero@Trainerblue192

As they walked along for the first day of their journey, Ermes kept his eyes peeled. Behind his half opened sleepy facade, were watchful eyes that took in as much of their surroundings as they possibly could. A loud sound came rustling from the bushes around them causing Ermes's hand to move towards his blade, a swift but subtle motion that came with years of practice in the streets of Wilree, as a boar came barreling out from one end and vanished into some underbrush on another. He let out a silent annoyed sigh that's sounded almost like steam hissing. To say that Ceolfrics little message but him on edge would be an understatement. Whenever there was nothing of note around, Ermes found his eyes drifting upwards, staring at the clouds as if he was waiting for some sign that it might rain. But not a single drop fell all day.

When they'd finally pulled off for the night, he shuffled quietly towards the designated area. Leaving his waterskin behind on the back of the cart as instructed without so much as saying a word. Lilan and Ceolfric had decided to go off and "scout". Anytime beforehand that two members of a party had said they'd do so usually meant they were either doing adult activities or simply leaving to talk about him. Kyreth had gone off to talk to Cerric about Irigan knows what, and Esvelee wasn't exactly the sort of company you speak to while you work. He walked around the area, looking for tinder and and small branches to start a fire, noticing Eila was doing the same. So Ermes decided to change tasks, holding his index finger out and circular motion with is while softly speaking. "Wrap." A small length of rope coiled around the bundle he'd gathered as he slung it over his shoulder tying the other end so that it simply hung like a holster.

His hand then dropped to his side, holding an invisible axe, before one manifested in it. Ermes took a few swings, chopping off some thicker branches from trees and cutting them into manageable pieces before the axe finally dissipated. Letting out a tired sigh, he picked up his supply of wood before heading over towards where Eila was, making a small pile nearby for them to use later on in the night. He hadn't expected for her to approach him, and when she did he felt an odd tightness in his chest. He mentally scolded himself before listening to what she had to say. Arching an eyebrow, he picked up a nearby stick and poked at the fire, watching as embers floated up. Once again Ceolfrics voice hung in the behind him. Like an irritating fly buzzing just out of view.

He rolled his eyes at the comment. Ofcourse the tainted storyteller has seen the beast. It only made sense it had hide like armor. He was certain it also stood two stories tall and could vanish like the wind. After this mornings ordeal he was more certain that Ceolfric was just trying to scare them away from the coin, and naturally the split tongued woman would join him. So, he ignored whay was said and focused on the question before him."I don't suppose you brought a pot to make the stew?" His voice carrying a slight irritation, though not towards her. Eila remained silent at his question. "Yeah. I didn't think so." Ermes let out a soft sigh as he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. "Itadakimasu." a simple iron hook emerged off the side of the fire, a cast iron pot hanging from it, beginning to warm. He looked at Eila, giving her a sleepy smile before he prodded the fire once more. "But to answer your question…I'd love to help you cook."

Cerric’s eyebrows moved higher and higher as Kyreth all but whispered his words. He followed Kyreth’s fleeting glance at the flint strike and he seemed more and more confused as the Tainted continued with this strange line of conversation. “What in the world has given you the impression you are a burden? If I shared that belief, you wouldn’t have made it across the lake, let alone traveled with us a full day.” Cerric laughed, waving away the boy’s concerns. “Listen, Kyreth. I understand you’ve suffered a difficult life thus far and I do not want to make light of it, but it’s time to put that away. You’ve stepped foot in a world that demands more confidence and selfishness than the, and forgive me my bluntness, sniveling you’re doing now. Buck up. You don’t need to thank me for following orders.” Cerric clapped him on the shoulder, giving him a thumbs up. He murmured a soft word and held his hand above the trough, a steady stream of water pouring out to fill it.

“At the end of the day, our Lord respects my opinion on our business. If I said your presence would compromise the job, he’d have found another task for you, but you are already serving an important role: the unknown variable. If five people can’t handle an extra, unanticipated addition to the team that is more hindrance than help, then they shouldn’t be pursuing this line of work. Flexibility is the key to survival.” Cerric shrugged. “And this is an excellent environment to practice. The aether is calm and stable, more willing to work with you than against you. I can’t exactly fault our Lord for wanting to give you an opportunity to learn outside of the House for a bit. But if passive assistance isn’t your style, I’ll keep your offer in mind.” Cerric shook his wrist sharply a few times, the water stopping before he moved onto the waterskins. He tapped each one and commanded them to fill, the water skins plumped back up to brimming.

Meanwhile, Esvelee had removed the tack from her horse and had started brushing it, humming a soft song. The clouds above continued to sit, darkening over the course of the day and threatening with a quiet rumble of thunder, but it still stayed miraculously dry. The faint music of Snakeburrow wound its way through the campsite, a constant companion on travels through the woods, and the soft shushing of leaves and grasses as the wind snatched playfully at the branches of the trees and the edges of clothes. The last bit of sunlight faded away, leaving only the flickering campfire to cast long shadows amongst the clearing.

Cerric’s response was… strange. Or rather, perhaps it was how Kyreth took it that was strange. It started out comforting; he wasn’t burdening Cerric with his presence on this trip, that was good, right? But as he went on, Kyreth’s gaze grew harder, his old shell crawling back up over him as Cerric criticized him for his efforts at politeness.

It wasn’t much of a slight, but Kyreth felt that familiar flame of anger rise in him at Cerric’s words nonetheless. Was that really necessary? It seemed there was no pleasing these people; he did his best to conform to the world outside of his little Tainted bubble, worked so hard to be polite, considerate, not to frighten or make anyone uncomfortable, and Cerric called those efforts ‘sniveling’? Was there nothing that would make these people happy? Why even fucking bother then?

His fingers tingled, and a flicker of the fire behind Cerric brought Kyreth back to his senses, the very flammable trees surrounding them and the very malleable fire in the camp replacing Kyreth’s anger with a touch of healthy fear. Right, he was making mountains out of mole hills anyway - no need to go seeing conflict where none existed. Surely Cerric meant well. He was hard to read, but Lord Mystralath was genuine and he trusted the man, so Kyreth would trust in his new master’s judgement, if not Cerric himself just yet.

“...Right, good to know,” Kyreth finally replied, consciously stopping himself from apologizing again. He opened his mouth to add something more, but was stopped in his tracks by a whisper in his ear. This time, at least, he didn’t jump.

‘Hello again. Storyborn claims she’s seen the beast, following Cerric’s directions. He may be setting us up, but that’s just speculation. Stay on your guard anyway and keep your conversations about this out of earshot - or don’t, but don’t expect me to save you. Oh, and apparently it’s got a hide like armor, so plan accordingly.’

He glanced around the camp at the message’s end, seeing Lilann and Ceolfric emerge from the woods behind Cerric, apparently having gone off somewhere while he was talking. Fortunately, Ceolfric wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know; Lilann must have taken him into the woods to tell him the same story she shared last night. If the brigand had any more insight on the matter, he didn’t share it. A shame; he seemed worldly, and Kyreth had been naively hoping he’d be a little more prepared to deal with a monster than the rest of them were.

“Okay, well… I think I’ll go practice, then,” he decided, giving Cerric a nod before disengaging. Might as well do what he came here for; he didn’t have the brain or the constitution for unraveling the mysteries of fairytale beasts.

He found a spot just past the edge of the clearing, out of sight of the fire pit but still cleared away enough that Kyreth didn’t worry about his candle catching the brush on fire. On its own, anyway - the undergrowth was already damp with dew, and if something went really wrong, he was close enough for Cerric to notice. It was just nice to be away from prying eyes, not to mention the fire.

Eila was rather quiet as they worked together to prepare the meal. Save for the few instructions she had given him, he could see that she was lost within the trappings of her own mind. Ermes kept his head down then, doing as he was dutifully told and chopping some ingredients before setting them off to the side and working on others. There was apparently some order to how they were to be thrown in, he held his tongue as he wished to ask her a million questions only to pepper her with a million more afterwards. He wanted to understand why they went in like this, how she came about to know the recipe, and what it meant for her or her home. Stews were a dime a dozen, but what went in and what it's taste was always varied from place to place and hearth to hearth. There were a few moments in which he found himself opening his mouth, only for nothing to come out before quickly closing his lips again and chastising himself silently.

He kept his gaze locked on the stew before him. Watching as the broth bubbled and boiled, turning pieces of meat and vegetables around inside it. A few ingredients from the bottom came tumbling up to peek through before falling right back down towards the bottom. It smelled amazing, and the sounds of his stomach could be heard over the roar of the fire. Ermes placed a hand over his stomach, trying to silence it before Eila finally broke the silence. She smiled, but with this current experience he began to wonder how genuine it was. Was that tainted truly better company than he was? He smiled, back thanking her before giving the pot another stir. What she said next made his blood cold. So that's what she was thinking about this whole time.

"I only have one. I'm not quite sure what Kyreth is doing on this mission, but I don't believe he's here to pass our examination. With that…I don't think there's a need for him to stay up and take watch." He offered no solution yet as to who would watch alongside Lilan, but he had no trust for those two to be sneaking off together to do a watch alone. They conspired with whispers every chance they could, for all he knew they'd all wake next morning dead and looted while they went off to tell of some horrid beast that ravaged a group of travelers. No. Ermes wasn't about to become one of Storyborns tall tales.

Despite the hour, the light struggled to break through both cloud and flora as the overcast skies grew steadily darker. A distant rumble of thunder suggested the heavens would finally break later in the day, reinforced by the chilly, heavy gusts that whipped through the woods. The night had passed blessedly uneventful, for most, and Cerric had been up bright and early, all smiles and laughter. Despite that, his smiles came slower, his gestures more muted, and the beginning of bags under his eyes.

Now on the road again, the day had so far been uneventful. No frightened boar, nor other travelers to contend with, just the sound of Cerric’s near constant babbling, the creak of wagon wheels, and the muffled footsteps of the horse.

Until the horse stopped abruptly, ears flat back and whining loudly. Its eyes were blown wide as its nostrils flared and it trembled, refusing to move forward. “Whoa, what’s gotten into you?” Esveele tried to hop down once she’d gotten her footing back, but Cerric’s hand on her arm stopped her. “What in the seven hells is going on?” She demanded as she glanced around.

She got her answer a moment later when a wolf limped into the middle of the path, sent something that was more whine than growl at the assembled party, before collapsing with a whimper. The horse pawed at the ground. “Well, that doesn’t look too fantastic, team!” Cerric chirped brightly, obnoxiously upbeat as he peered at the strange series of events, one hand already drifting down to play with the stopper of his waterskin. “Let’s see how our mercs-in-training handle such an unexpected turn of events!”

The trek had once again been uneventful. Hell's even the night watch before hadn't come up with anything. He kept pace alongside the caravan, keeping his eyes peeled (figuratively speaking as he still looked half asleep) for any signs of trouble up ahead. He'd no longer cared for the threats of rain or misty beasts that the others had spoken of the day before. It was clear now they were doing nothing more than attempting to scare him off, as if he was some child that could be gotten rid of so easily. Tch. Annoyance ran through Ermes as he kicked a small pebble a few feet ahead of him, listening to it tumble across the packed dirt road before them before falling silent in the grass. There wasn't much to do, and he sure as hell didn't feel like striking up a conversation right now, not like they'd be able to hold one without yelling as Lilan played her music.

It was when the horse began to act strangely that Ermes immediately went on guard. He didn't show it, still looking as disheveled and exhausted as always, but he slowly made his way towards the front of the caravan to see what was going on. Perhaps it was something that was on the other side where he couldn't see, but only a few steps further would reveal the limping wolf that collapsed just before them. Almost imperceptible, there was a secondary movement coming from the nearby underbrush. It was only for a split second, but the movement was large just before going entirely still. "Hey buddy it's alright. Just a wolf down on his luck, no need to get spooked." he said talking to the horse in a flat manner as he positioned himself with his back towards the underbrush while facing Ceolfric.

Had Ermes been alone he would've already acted, but now there were too many people, too many variables, and a very concerning set of eyes that may disapprove of such soloist behavior. So he opted for teamwork, whispering to Ceolfric so that only he could hear him. "Tell the others, there's someone or something else here, behind me in the underbrush. I saw it moving. While you're at it, try and find it's mind if you think you can do it without being noticed." Ermes gesticulated towards the wolf, throwing random shrugs and other such notions into his body language and make him seem clueless to mask that he was passing the message along to Ceolfric.

---

Ceolfric couldn't say he found the change in weather comforting. Even if the impending rain didn't bring with it the threat of demons, the thought of trudging along a muddy road while damp and freezing was hardly tantalizing. And if that wasn't bad enough, the horse suddenly decided it wasn't content with its current employment. He nearly dominated the stupid creature into trudging forward regardless, but he was interrupted by a wolf dragging itself onto the path.

His blade was drawn in an instant, unhappy that a mere animal - and a wounded one at that - could surprise him so easily. Of course, where there was a wounded animal, there was also something to wound it. Probably what had spooked the horse to begin with. Unfortunately, no masses of aether stood out nearby, and certainly not one large enough to kill a wolf.

Come to think of it, he didn't feel a wolf either.

Cerric's inane commentary was useless, and the bandit briefly considered that the man had conjured the damn thing himself just to fuck with them. Of course, that begged the question of whether the thing in front of them was a result of an infiltration of their minds, or if it existed as a physical construct. The latter would make for an easy first strike on whoever was bold enough to investigate the wounded canine, should the supposed corpse suddenly spring back to life and attack them, though the former was probably more troubling.

The boy with the strange hair approached soon after, nearly earning him a swift strike to the head from the on-edge bandit, but he purchased his life with information that Ceolfric had missed. He had no guarantee that wasn't also an illusion, designed to draw their attention in one direction while the real threats attacked from the other, but they couldn't afford to ignore it either. However, he didn't quite see the point of the subtlety. If Ermes had spotted an enemy, why was he whispering? Did he not recognize that they'd already been caught in the trap? Or was he merely trying to cower behind the only competent fighter the group had to offer under the guise of being helpful. No, it was probably just the way he'd learned to operate; little urchins like him didn't confront their enemies, they evaded them.

"There's no guarantee it didn't find ours first, on your guard," Ceolfric hissed back to Ermes as his eyes scanned their surroundings for any more movement. Abandoning the cart to search the area would be a poor move, but they couldn't keep moving with a threat lurking so near.

Did these idiots even realize there was a threat?

"That is not a wolf. Someone with a bow, check to see if it's tangible or not," Ceolfric warned loudly, heedless of Ermes' earlier attempt at subtlety. What was their attacker going to do? Attack? "Everyone else, get ready, the creator's here somewhere, and he might have friends."

He turned now past Ermes to address their mystery assailant. "We have no quarrel with you. Allow us passage and live to seek easier prey." He had no idea whether their ambusher was a man or a beast, but he supposed it couldn't hurt to throw the offer out regardless. The scheme seemed a bit advanced for a feral monster, but this forest only grew stranger by the minute and Ceolfric was not a betting man. Perhaps he could lure the conjurer out with promises of a toll for passage, and then rip out its throat for daring to waste his time. At the very least, it might spring its attack once it realizes it'd been seen. Save him the trouble of playing chicken with a fucking bush for hours.

---

@Trainerblue192

Fortunately, the night passed without incident. Kyreth managed to get through his candle practice without setting the forest on fire, and seemed to be improving besides. He was still more timid with the flame than he knew he should be, but Lord Mystralath spoke true - improvement came fast. Once focus overcame fear, Kyreth could already feel his control growing smoother, even if only by degrees.

But aether training was exhausting, even on such a small scale, and so Kyreth was grateful to be excused from night watches, even if their reasons for excluding him were probably less than pure. Sleep was sleep, even if interrupted more than once by the unfamiliar sounds of six other bodies plus a horse, and when day finally broke again and he saw the grogginess on everyone else’s faces, Kyreth counted himself lucky to get as much as he had.

The rain still threatened, but the next half day was calm enough that Kyreth could sneak a moment here and there to scope out the ambient aether. As promised, the forest was rife with changing environments, currents that twisted and melted into one another, sometimes thick enough to touch, and sometimes barely there. The idle strumming of Lilann’s lyre made for a nice backdrop to his scouting, but Kyreth didn’t miss the noted lack of song. He was concerned to hear Lilann go quiet, although he couldn’t really justify why. Despite how close they’d quickly grown, he really hadn’t known her any longer than anyone else; for all he knew, it was just tiring to sing two days in a row, especially on whatever precious little sleep she managed to sneak between watches. But even as he chided himself for jumping to conclusions, Kyreth wasn’t entirely convinced. Lilann looked a little too distracted for it to just be fatigue.

He might have asked if a sudden, much more significant concern didn’t arise to distract him, too. Without warning, Kyreth felt a storm whip up around them, whirling both inside and out; his hands shook, the ground shook with them, and the wind whipped up such a frenzy Kyreth couldn’t believe his cloak was still around his shoulders. The maelstrom stopped him in his tracks, overwhelming his senses; he quickly fell behind the caravan, feet rooted to the ground and knuckles white around his rucksack, clinging on for dear life until the storm at last subsided.

It took Kyreth a moment to catch his breath, another to wonder why no one else seemed bothered, and one more for him to realize that it was the aether stirring mad, not the earth and sky themselves. For a second, he wondered if he’d gone crazy, and breathed deep, checking the aether himself to confirm. Sure enough, he wasn’t dreaming; while the storm was gone, the aftershocks were still there, the aether around them still churning restlessly like the sea after a gale. In a real storm, the immediate danger was past, but the waves could still grind him on the rocks if he wasn’t careful; Kyreth chose to assume the same here.

When he finally came back to his senses, he had to sprint to catch back up with the caravan, panting more from the aetheric disturbance than the run. But when he did catch up, he found the caravan halted, and the company staring suspiciously at something ahead in the road.

“That is not a wolf.”

Ceolfric’s warning was so in sync with Kyreth’s first impression of the roadblock that for a second, he thought the brigand was in his head again. Was that what caused that huge disturbance, then? With all that ruckus, Kyreth would have expected the Rancor itself to fly out of the woods, not some injured dog. A trick?

His hands were still trembling when he put one on Lilann’s shoulder, partly to stop her from approaching the thing if she had a mind to, but mostly to steady himself. A wave of dizziness washed over him, his body still trying to keep up as it adjusted from “way too much aether” to what felt like not nearly enough. He didn’t have the mind or the knowledge to make much sense of what he felt and what laid before them now, but that didn’t mean nobody else did.

“Be careful, something is wrong,” he murmured to Lilann, gesturing for her to stay close to the caravan. He didn’t know what the threat was, but surely it would be safer with the group than out on the fringes.

“Be careful!” Kyreth repeated, this time calling out so the whole group could hear him. He approached the front of the caravan, coming up next to the wagon near Ceolfric and Ermes, although he kept a little further away.

“I don’t know what it means, but right before that thing appeared, the aether around here went crazy,” he explained breathlessly, mostly to Ceolfric. “It’s calmer now, but… I don’t know, I can only imagine whatever caused that must have been pretty significant.”

Even as he spoke, he kept his head on a swivel, pulling his knife from his belt if only to occupy his hands. His fingers tingled forebodingly, which only set him more on edge; they were in a precarious enough position as it was, the last thing they needed now was one of his little mishaps.