Fenna glanced to the side when Zell asked for two more bears and answered the grin with a smile of her own. Barracker joined them to pay for the next round. "Thank you," she said to him. She hadn't expected to end up with Zell like this, drinking at the bar, but she was glad to be sitting here with him.

During the second beer Zell started rambling his thoughts about the Witch Queen and she found herself agreeing to his statements, which she showed with nods or short replies, but didn't interrupt his rambling. "I agree," she said at the end. "I believe that she can send us home, and of course I want to go home." She stared into her beer. "I miss them so much..." She sighed and drank from it. "We're stuck in this far-away world in a war that isn't even ours, but the people who dragged us here probably did it out of necessity. The Witch Queen is currently the one besieging towns, but we know very little of the political situation so it's hard to say we're even on the good side."

That's when Zell said they were on the right side and Fenna smiled. "I like to think we are as well. The people we fought had brainwashed innocent people, that's not something good people do."

The got their third beer when Zell asked about her country. "Ah, you know, it's flat and wet, lots of water and rain. As for my day, after breakfast I go to work as a forest guard which sounds exciting but it's a lot of paperwork. I was actually doing some fieldwork though, on that day... Anyway, we try to have at least one meal together, depending on my shifts, so it's either breakfast or dinner." She continued to talk about her children for a bit, some of their quirks and habits, and it made her feel closer to her children for a moment. She missed them dearly, but she smiled when she talked about some of the stunts they had pulled.

The third beer was gone. "How are you holding up?" she asked Zell. "You became a badass warrior who can teleport and owns a fancy sword. Is it difficult to be here for you?"

Zell was glad that he and Fenna were in agreement about which side was which, in this war. Or, at the very least, on the same page about which was more plausibly 'The Good Fight.' With the reassurance that Fenna brought to his mind, Zell was confident that all of the group would arrive at a similar conclusion, although he would still want to check in with each of them to be sure of this. After all, Second Chance was a team and togetherness had been one of their strengths, so far in this strange world of unknown quantities and dangers. So he would be a good Englishman and follow democratic process. If, for some reason, he and Fenna found themselves outnumbered by a strong urge to go east, Zell would, without hesitation, do what he could to keep everyone together and head east. He also trusted James' leadership and smarts, so even if they did decide to go hear The Witch Queen out, there would be a Plan A, B and C for whatever happened next.

But this was probably not even worth thinking about. Barracker had already chosen his side. Obviously. What were the chances that all four of the others would want to go the opposite direction? Almost zero. But the principle of togetherness was important all the same.

What Zell was even more glad about, concerning Fenna, was the woman opening up to him about her life and her family. "Jeez, sounds worse than English weather, ha!" It was a fun time, offered some good laughs and it was nice to hear genuine joy in Fenna's voice as she talked about the things that were imporant to her. "Forest guard, eh? No wonder you ended up as a Ranger. Perfect for the job." He listened with his usual lop-sided grin as she talked for a bit, and the third beer slowly disappeared as they conversed. "They sound like an awesome little pair of ankle-biters, mate. Proper good kids."

Fenna had showed another side of herself. Full time mother and holding down a job? And not just any random retail gig... a forest guard... something that sounded like it actually improved society and required more than two braincells. No wonder the woman was so tough. Her constitution and countenance during the hard times they'd gone through, it all made more sense now. Her ability to quietly get on with things, yet be friendly, caring, perceptive and wise, all spoke volumes in previous observations by Zell of Fenna, but here was another piece of the puzzle that cystalized this woman further. She was exceptional. Perhaps that's why she had been kidnapped. Wait... Perhaps that's why ALL of them had been chosen for this destiny. Zell, of course, thought a hell of a lot about himself already - his narcissism was apparent - but when he thought more about the things he'd observed from his friends; Fenna, James, MacKensie... all of them. They were all people of pretty exceptional quality, even without the magic.

"How are you holding up?"

"Me?" Zell echoed. "Ah, I'll live. Could be worse. Could be dead."

"You became a badass warrior who can teleport and owns a fancy sword. Is it difficult to be here for you?"

"Well, the whole teleportation and fancy sword certainly helps," he quipped, although he couldn't keep the somber sadness from his voice this time. He sighed. "I dunno, to be honest mate, I try not to think about... well, anything about England. Family. Friends. I just... block it all out. I try to focus on 'the now' - Getting us all through this, in one piece." He rubbed his mouth and squinted. "It's weird, I feel so..."

Oh shit, the beer was loosening his lips, bringing out his emotions! Alert! Emergency! Possible tear-jerker talk! Shut-down protocols engage.

"I dunno... I'm not good at emotional shit. I'm a typical English bloke. Repress, repress, repress." Honest feelings suddenly spilled out. "Some fucking driver ran a red light and took me right the fuck out. I remember the whole thing. The pain. The paralysis. The life draining from me all the way until the end." He shook his head. "You were kidnapped, Fenna - kidnapped from your life... and for that reason; we will stop at nothing to get you back home," he assured her passionately. Then shrugged. "But me? What do I have to go back to? Being dead? Or does that traffic accident never happen if we get the chance to go back to our world? I need more information before I even know what I can wish for, or what I can grieve for, or what to feel about anything. I'm in the weirdest fucking headspace imaginable." He looked at her. "And that part... that uncertainty about what I should even feel... is probably what pains me the most. Not to mention, fucking terrifying."

Don't you dare fucking cry, you piece of shit, he told himself, looking away from Fenna. Alert! Shut-down protocols, last warning! Forcing a smile and lightly slapping the table.

"Quite the conundrum, my good friend!" he turned back to her with a jolly tone and his usual grin. "But fuck it! We march on like champions. And speaking of marching on, why don't we grab the guys and head back to the Mended Drum. I think we all deserve a proper sleep. And we're gonna need all the rest we can get."

He got off the stool and stretched in a loud yawn. "Where is everyone?"

He shared a smile with Fenna and one last, "We can do this, mate. Together," before they went and found Clive and James in the Guildhouse. MacKensie and Adam were nowhere to be found, so Zell suggested that the group wait for a while, until enough time had passed that they could safely assume the Frenchwoman and American had probably made their own way home back to The Mended Drum. Whether they showed up in time or not, everyone headed home with the help of at least one of them being sensible enough to keep a map of the city in their inventory. Zell had lost his map and was a bit tipsy so he was no help at all, (no surprise there,) and the swordsman simply followed the group and cracked a few jokes to pass the time.

Once back in his rented room, at the Mended Drum, Zell got out of his armour and climbed into bed, falling asleep fast. The comfy bedrest was welcome. What was not welcome was The Prince of the Oblivion Plane who'd been waiting for him patiently, so they could have another talk.

Adam's cryptic answer to her question, plus the way he glanced about, had MacKensie puzzled. It almost felt conspiratorial. MacKensie had been raised a little out of her melancholy just by this alone, as Adam told her that they should discuss everything in a more private location. Does he know something? was her first thought, as the Druid led her down the stairs. What's this about his family? Outside into the crisp air they went and then even further into a nearby back alley. Of course, this was Adam, so she did not feel in danger, but her curiosity was certainly piqued, to put it lightly. She sat down, crossed one leg over the other and held her elbows, ready to be let in on the mystery.

“First, you are a wonderful person..." Immediately she looked down at her knees, a light blush staining her cheeks, finding it difficult to hold that red gaze with the way he was looking at her. It was nice of him to say such things, to reassure her that her contributions were not for nothing and also that, "...You mean a lot to me.”

"I..." How terrible she was at this. Even had the sentiment not come with the baggage of her guilt for having feelings for two men at once, she would likely be just as awkward, so very inexperienced in this kind of thing. "You mean a lot to me too, Adam," she replied, managing the strength to look back up at him. She smiled when she saw that he was blushing bright red too. It seemed that they were both not the best in this department, which MacKensie saw the funny side of and also found a warm comfort of familiarity in.

“Anyway, that history.” The tone shifted as Adam went on to tell her about the awful family tragedy that this ordeal had reminded him of. MacKensie's face was full of sorrow and pity, her blue eyes glued to Adam's side-on profile as she listened. Her hope that some kind of rehabilitation for Adam's uncle was going to end the tale, only created a harsh stab of pain in her heart when the reality of PTSD and war came in it's most terrible form: Suicide.

"Oh my," she breathed. "Adam, I am so very sorry to hear this." Her anti-war politics and tarnished personal principles - even her guilt for slitting the throat of an unaware human being - it was all nothing compared to this. And there she had been, on the mezzanine complaining to a young man who was connected to the horrors of war so much more powerfully - not by lip-service principle but actual personal familial connection - and by such tragedy. She felt terrible, but moreover she sought to redeem her self-centeredness and be there for her friend in this moment. She placed a hand on his forearm. "It must be so hard for you - all of this."

He looked at her, conviction in his voice when he asserted that this war was different. She nodded along. "Yes," she agreed. "Of course." She did not quite feel his conviction on the matter but she understood his point of view. For her, it was more like her choice was that of which lane to drive in on a highway - a highway that had already been constructed and a one which she had no map for, in a world she had no knowledge of. She did not feel special. She felt blind and forced to kill or be killed. But anyway, it didn't matter. With such a tender subject as a family member's suicide on Adam's mind, and the memory of his dip into depression, after the Mazy Hillocks, still fresh in her mind, she would keep her own objections to herself.

"Whatever we were brought here for, we can choose our own path.”

"And with the strength of our morals and the power of our friendship, I know we will make the right choice," she added on.

Her worries about Adam's state of mind did not cease as he continued talking. Everything he said about his decisions and conclusions and future... it all contained 'I.' I plan... I intend... there was not a single 'We.'

"...If the team feels differently, that's understandable. This is just what my heart is telling me to do.” Adam smiled at MacKensie and she forced a smile back. “and whatever does happen, I know you'll be okay.”

"We will be okay, Adam," she corrected. "All of us." Perhaps it was her paranoia, but it felt like he was preparing for the possibility of splitting from the group and going his own way. I am just being over-protective, she told herself, trying to soothe her anxiety. It was hard, especially as - speaking of Lillianna - some of them had already been peeled off the group. Lillianna had bolted, out of nowhere, at a critical moment in their last mission. Joji had disappeared completely. The losses had affected her almost as much as the deaths of Clive and Arthur - she was projecting. Adam would not abandon us. Her trust in him was too strong to fall for this paranoia. "I do not believe any of us will want to abandon Valhiem in it's hour of need. We are Second Chance, after all. And The Heroes from the Sky before that," she pursed her lips in a solemn smile, then squeezed his shoulder. "You are not alone, Adam. As long as we all believe in eachother and ourselves, we will be strong enough to overcome whatever this world throws at us."

She put her arm around and pulled him close, leaning her head on his. She needed the hug as much as he seemed to. The awkwardness had disappeared, overpowered by sheer desire to be there for her friend. Sure, he may have been the most powerful of all of them, in terms of magic, but he was still the youngest. It was easy to forget, considering how sensible and evenhanded he was, but it was important that they be aware and considerate of this fact.

After a while, she gave him a squeeze to end their embrace and seperated to smile at him. "Come. Let's go back inside."

Inside, everyone was just gathering and getting ready to leave so the party headed back to The Mended Drum. MacKensie made sure to ask Fenna how she was doing, giving her an encouraging smile and a little side-on hug as they walked. But for most of the journey, she stayed by Adam's side, occassionally laughing at Zell's jokes and trying to pass on some positive energy to Adam by nudging him as she laughed.

The Heroes from the Sky arrived at the inn and said their goodnights. MacKensie thought she would struggle to sleep, with so much think about - so much to worry about, for herself, for Fenna, Adam and goodness knew what the others were feeling - but the day had been so very long. An uncomfortable sleep outside the Temple of Hades, an early rise to start the morning with fighting the hardest battle of their lives. And while nothing was quite as intense as the Zigmund clash, it didn't get much easier from there. The hospital visit was miraculous, but it could not relieve her mental exhaustion. And so she fell asleep with a frown on her face that took a while to relax.

Sunrise saw activity in the city slowly start to pick up. Across these early hours of daylight, more and more citizens were leaving their homes to head to work, casting anxious glances up at the north-eastern sky barrier that was under a steady bombardment.

Everyone had been told to continue on with their lives until the time came to be called up the mountain. It was difficult, but seeing as there was no escape from the city, all they could do was follow the State of Emergency Laws in place, that had been delivered through the militia door-knocking, newspapers and the magi-tech speaker system in town squares, bazaar and other population-dense hotspots.

For those whose work required them to go outside Valhiem's walls, such as farmers, people of the churches, huntsman and woodsmen, most had been repurposed for the steady flow of distrubtion traffic up and down Citdel Mountain. Food and supplies were being delivered up to the Citadel in droves and the various municpal buildings: Halls of the Court, Academy Classroom Halls, and virtually any large enough sheltered area were being turned into areas where people could stay for the duration of the coming the battle. Other smaller rooms and buildings around Citadel Mountain were used for food storage.

A Courier came down the mountain with Fenna's Spear, MacKensie's Gauntlet and the mysterious trinkets of James and Adam. She delivered them to The Mended Drum with a very short letter bearing the wax seal of The Academy. It simply thanked Second Chance for their cooperation.



The analysis of all items that Second Chance had offered up to Second Chance had ended up pulling all four Heads of Department in to help Identify them. They met in the morning with the President.

"Nothing?" the President Jordash Sigmar repeated. "Nothing at all?"

Only Enio Ivey shook his head. The other 3 Department Heads would not condescend to do so. However, there were a few comments.

"I would have believed that they were trying to decieve us, and that the items were mundane," Reginald De Wran stated. "But Source certainly connects with them on a magical level. But-"

"Not through any Elemental Domain," Clarissa interrupted.

"Thank you, Clarissa," Reginald loudly, dripping with anger and sarcasm. "Your interruptions are always necessary."

Clarissa looked oblivious to the obvious anger, but she was really just ignoring the gnome. "I used a special prototype Identification Tool I've been working on and managed sense something." Everyone was intrigued. "But upon further inspection, it's just Source Code biographical information of the owners. All information that can easily be brought up on Magi-Tech software by simply scanning their crystals."

"Well that is more than we found," Director Yddral Rowan said. "My best loremasters couldn't activate a single item. We are looking into any possible similar equipment or jewellery recorded in our archives."

"The more I hear..." the President started. "...the more I am starting to believe the High Septum."

No one outright agreed, but no one rejected the notion either. This was all so outlandish, yet no logical explanations could better fit the appearance of Second Chance or their rapid rise in Ascension. Although Reginald and Clarissa stayed silent, it was they who already believed Areleth. They also were the only ones in the room who were part of the secret and illegal Ressurection of Clive Michel.

He turned to Kass to listen to his words.

Barracker stuck around for a moment, to be there for his friends in their time of need. He went to his captain and clasped forearms in a warrior's embrace. “I will retire for the night,” he said, and then added a few quite words in his ear. “This may not be my place to say, captain, but their is a web of lies and truths surrounding you and our friends.” he looked James in the eye and said. “Be careful.”

He gave the man a nod.

The warning was appreciated if slightly useless, out of everyone present he was perhaps the most aware of HER, everything SHE represented and was capable of. To be perfectly honest the panic was not lowering at all, it was just being shifted to the background until he could decompress in his own room. this felt like a mess.

Eventually, Zell and Fenna came back for them, followed by Adam and Maz shortly after, Kass having gone earlier meant that they could retire to the Mended Drum for the night, the chatting continued on the way but he could tell his party members were not really feeling it. He was the same, the only thing on his mind was the bed.



His eyes opened.

He allowed himself a moment of stillness before rising up, years of rigorous routine having transformed him into a morning person by force, a few light stretches and he was feeling good, after everything that happened yesterday getting a full night of rest was sweet and he was raring to go through the day, if only his Ma could see him, she wouldn't recognize... him...

He stopped.

A quick look at the window confirmed that yes, it was indeed the early hours of the day and he wasn't the usual sleep deprived zombie he tended to become.

"What the fuck..."

The sudden feeling of wrongness was invasive and it was coming entirely from James, okay okay, deep breaths, this is... unusual yes, but is it truly unexpected? Zigmund had been an early riser for longer than James had been alive so it made sense that some things got a preference, becoming a morning person was not the end of the world. But he could admit that it just felt wrong, an antithesis to everything that James was. If this was different what else got changed?

Fuck it was too early to have an existential crisis.

Getting dressed with his usual gear he arrived at the restaurant portion of the inn, seems like he was the first. Might as well wait for the others to to wake up, albeit knowing some of them might be up already. He wondered if anyone would join him for breakfast.

"Hey Freddy boy!, the usual please"

“You mean a lot to me too, Adam.”

Those words had made the man think he was blushing even more in that moment than he was. That and her smile made him over the moon. Such a shame that it couldn't have been in the context of a more positive story about his family. At least it seemed to help MacKensie though, and that was the whole point. She saw the battle for what it was, and thought that Second Chance would also. This was a nice thought. The Druid would fight that army alone if he had to, but he did not want to. Combat was not thrilling to him; it was a means to help people.

The following hug and the subsequent chatter between Adam and the Ranger brought his mind at ease, or something resembling that at least. If nothing else, he felt that MacKensie would be there for him, whether as a friend or something more. Would it be appropriate to ask someone out before an invasion, he wondered. Though he was not new to being in a relationship, the red-eyed man had never asked anyone out before. This was new territory for him, and in a new world to boot! Even if she said no though, he knew he would do his best to repay her kindness.

-----

The next morning started with a shower and clean clothes, followed by the return of his orb along with a short letter simply thanking the team. Not much help, but it didn't phase Adam much. Some instinctual, Druid part of his mind told him this item was uniquely his and its function was something he would have to find out on his own. This aspect of the man would have surprised him earlier in his time in Mytheria, had it been more apparent. Now though, it was becoming second nature - pun not intended. The wood the Mended Drum was built with is oak, he had observed last night when he walked into the place. Was it an Ascension, time spent in the class, or maybe something else entirely? 

There would be time to think about it later though. Right now, Adam was thinking about breakfast, and he saw the team's Cleric and leader ordering something. With that in mind, the Druid sat down and politely ordered whatever he was having, then turned to James and spoke to him.

“Good morning! How are you?”

It was a standard thing to ask, of course, though in this case they had received a not-so-standard letter yesterday. Therefore, the state of his healer friend and everyone else on the team was an important thing to enquire about.

Push! Push!

Legs burning, Zell maintained his sprint all the way up Citadel Mountain until he breathlessly touched a hand on the archway at the top. "Aw, fuck." He put his hands on his knees as he caught his breath. "That run is murder."

For the second time, after reaching the end of the mountain road, he dropped down and started his three sets of thirty push-ups and sit-ups. He got about halfway through his last set when some guards interrupted him.

"Oi!" It took another "Oi, you," for Zell to stop what he was doing, hoping to get to the end of his thirty reps but now the armoured man and woman were upon him.

He groaned as he rose to his feet, his bare torso covered with sweat - a bit of dirt on his back from the off-road sit-ups. His tee-shirt and towel were down the hill at Little Bridge where he usually left them during his morning exercise. He took his time before looking at the guards, rolling his neck and shoulders - a subtle quarter-turn so he could scratch the back of his head with his left hand... and they could see his Source Crystal. Finally, he sighed and turned around to look at them. "Mornin."

"Get off the mountain," the woman said. An elf, by the look of her. She had a helmet on so Zell couldn't see the ears, but he was starting to get accustomed to this world and could tell the difference even without the most obvious feature. "We've reports that you're getting in the way of important work."

"When the road got busy, I made sure to stay on the grass," Zell countered. "And is that any way to speak to a Captain of the garrison?" The reaction of both guards was masked well, but not well enough. They were not ready for that. Valhiem's defensive force hadn't yet been briefed that the adventurers were being promoted to Captains, so Zell throwing this title around was actually giving him a bit of motion. "Is this how Sergeant Major Gorgrim and the other officers drill their soldiers?"

"Excuse me, Captain-"

"Captain Brooks."

"-Captain Brooks. My apologies, sir, it's just that the supplies for the last defensive line are coming up the hill. Orders are that the mountain roads are to be kept as clear as possible."

Her explanation got no response right away, Zell put his hands on his hips, chin raised pompously as his eyes flicked back and forth to each of them. If only they knew that he was just fucking with them. "Alright, I was pretty-much done anyway. Carry on, soldiers."

They saluted him and he watched them go, before getting back on the floor and finishing his last set, then heading back down the mountain with a laugh and shake of his head. "Impending doom and you're still piss-arsing about," he reprimanded himself with a chuckle. "Get a grip, mate."

He used his towel to wipe his face and whip the worst of the dirt off his back before donning his tee-shirt, then went and grabbed some breakfast from a food stand at the Bazaar, talking to the server about how weird it must feel with the city still going on as normal whilst under attack. The server agreed, but declared his trust in the High Septum. No mention of the Mayor though, Zell noted, although that was no surprise really. Zell ate in the relatively silent ambience of the marketplace. The Bazaar was dead. Not in terms of people - there were people getting around - but the vibe was rotten. The citizenry were scared. No suprise there, either. At least there's not mass panic, Zell surmised. Then his thoughts spilled onto his tongue. "Not yet, anyway," he muttered.

"Pardon?" the server asked.

"Oh, nothing."

...

Zell entered The Mended Drum, holding each end of his the towel that was around the back of his neck. "Mornin lads," he greeted to Adam and James. He had already seen Fred this morning, but gave him a nod anyway. He went upstairs, had a shower and got changed before coming back downstairs. He went over to his friends' table and spun a chair around so he could sit on it backwards, which allowed his sword to rest easy strapped to his back.

"Fuck, it's weird out there," he told the Druid and Cleric. "Word is, we've got nine days before this General Saladin guy..." he looked at James. ...I'm guessing you know him..." then continued to them both. "...is going for a full-scale assault, so the civilian population have been told to go on with their daily lives until it's time to go up the hill." Zell made a puzzled face. "A bit risky, ain't it?"

Fred - ever the consumate professional - brought Zell over a pint of water without even being asked: Zell's morning usual. "Oh, Fred, you're a star, bruv."

"What you having t'eat Zell, lad?" Fred asked, mirroring Zell's informal, familiar and friendly countenance. The two were on good terms from the personable conversations they would have each day that Second Chance were in town. Considering his short time in Valhiem - hell, his short time in Mytheria - the Englishman already knew a lot of people. Networking just came natural to the man and had always brought him success, whether for business or pleasure.

"Aw, I'm stuffed mate," was the response. "I ate at the Bazaar earlier. Don't tempt me." Fred gave a reverse-nod and was about to leave it at that, but Zell said, "Oh, you've twisted my arm - I'll have a little bite. You wanna do me a cold chicken salad? You got kale? Spinach? Fantastic, fill a big bowl of that up. Stick one or two tomatoes in there too, if don't mind, mate. And a few boiled eggs?" Fred laughed and gave a thumbs up before going to get to work. "Plenty of chicken please, mate."

He looked back at his friends, listening to whatever they were talking about with his arms folded on the chair-back. After a while, he thought to let them in on the rest of the info he'd gathered.

"This battle coming won't be easy. We're outnumbered about six to one, as the military officers reckon. And they say that by the time the assault comes, our magical forces will be outnumbered by something like twenty to one, due to holding that sky barrier up for so long." Zell's information was reliable but possibly not perfect in accuracy. His source was the Sergeant Major he'd been speaking with, last night. "Apparently the garrison morale isn't great either," Zell shook his head. "This fighting business doesn't get any easier, does it, boys," he commented, though his tone was not even close to a downer. "I'm ready for whatever, anyway. Saladin's about to find out what Zigmund had to learn the hard way too: Second Chance are built different. He ain't never seen anything like us."

This actually wasn't just Zell's usual bravado masking concerns and anxiety. Zell had damn-near convinced himself he was invincible, today, after hearing Barracker's words about them at the meeting - after reading the words of Melina the Witch Queen. Obviously, the situation was dire. Obviously he couldn't just go and take on the army by himself. But his self-belief was on Ten.

Of course, Zell had shown his confidence to always be high, even in situations when it probably shouldn't be, so his mood was also in large part due to his general personality.

And maybe, just maybe, in-part due to Baphomet changing his tactics and stroking the swordsman's ego all night. And speaking of The Prince of the Oblivion Plane...

"Ay, bro," he said to James, some time after the conversation petered out. "I wanted to show you a few things with that anchor of yours. You swing it like a madman. A few tips and tricks wouldn't hurt. Wha'dya'say?"

...He needed to get James alone so he could confess this fucking curse-thing. And James was the only person he trusted to help him with it.

.........And James did actually swing that anchor like a fucking lunatic.

Barracker was surprised to see the caretakers up and about. Funny that the ladies had took it upon themselves to clean the Temple from top to bottom in the early morning hours, before any of the children were awake. Barracker made his way outside, his first stop, Golden Tree Park to wait for Gildor’s smithy to open up. It was soothing listening to the birds and seeing the sunrise illuminate the golden leaves of the trees. It felt quite tranquil to be sat around while the wild life made itself known with chirps and tweets, here and there. It brought sadness to his heart as he thought about GreenGlow Woods and what had happened to the place. All gone, he thought to himself. So many memories of his childhood in those woods. He ended up staying in the park until he saw the sun was approaching the highest point from the east, surely the shop would be open now, he thought. He rose to his feet, yawned a little from feeling tired from the last night as he did not sleep well and for the most part and was up all night, going through the thoughts of yesterday. The Paladin went for a walk towards the blacksmith now, ready to hand in the fragments of his claymore. Once there, he told Gildor Hammerfist that whatever the cost was, he would provide the fee. Orichalcum was usually used in alloys with iron as the extremely strong ore was quite rare so alloys made the ore go farther, but this Claymore was pure Orichalcum so he knew he would be paying quite a sum. He exchanged some talk with the famed blacksmith, getting told to come back anytime after tomorrow. Being a Paladin would mean his sword would get priority service. After all was said and done, the vampire bid him farewell.

Fenna listened as Zell spoke about his death and how being here was for him. When it was obvious Zell didn't want to talk about it further she dropped the subject and agreed to go with him to the Mended Drum. It was time for some rest. She had calmed down enough for the fatigue to take over and when she went to bed she slept.

---

The next day, Fenna got up early greeted Adam and James as she passed them; she did consider having breakfast with them, but she felt too restless to sit down and have a chat. Or maybe it was Sil who was restless, she had noticed the bird was more on edge in the beseiged city, startled easier and spent most of her time high on the roofs.

She sauntered through the city with her spear over her shoulder and Sil sat on the spear. When she passed the baker, the smell made her hungry and she bought a fresh sweet bread roll and then went to a hot beverages shop to try a new brew, Sil flew in after her and settled on the table Fenna gestured towards. There were several of these places, all with a similar layout: dried herbs, fruits and spices were on display and a kettle hung on a fireplace crane so it could easily be swung above the fire. Fenna chose a yellow herb called sunleaf that smelled vaguely like vanilla, the spicy pepper root and something called ilus that the shopkeeper said would taste very good with it. She asked for a bowl of cold water for Sil as well.

After they were done drinking, she walked further down the path. She stopped at a vendor to buy some dried foods for some coppers to replenish her stock and continued down the street when a sign of a flaming sword caught her eye. She stopped and examined it for a moment before reading the name: Destine's Premium Gear. The shop itself wasn’t special, just a building like most others in the street, but the name and the sign had her intrigued.

“Let’s check this out,” she said to Sil, who replied with a sound that Fenna took as agreement and landed on her extended arm before they went inside. The faint buzzing that she felt more than heard was probably a warding spell, and one glance inside made it obvious it was needed. The walls were filled with armour and weapons, some made with gold and silver ornaments, others seemingly plain, but a plaque informed the customers of the special ability it would grant the wearer and the price they would have to pay.

An older woman with grey hair stood behind the counter and a few customers were inside. The owner of the shop that handled in buying, selling and trading of premium equipment and magical items was called Margot Destine, and her daughter and granddaughter both worked with her. While not as good with identifying magic items like people as Clarissa Shields, she had a good eye for enchantments and the overall quality of pieces that adventurers brought to her.

Fenna noticed one young woman approaching the counter with a dagger and offered to sell it. She didn’t listen to the haggling that followed. Two adventurers close to her inspected some boots.
“It has a cool ability,” one of them said. “But I don’t know how comfortable they will be. These boots,” she gestured to the ones she was wearing, “they don’t have a special ability, but I've had them for a while now, no wear and tear and they are super comfortable. If I want boots with magic, I’ll buy it from Nimuer, the leatherworker.”

Fenna decided to check out the leatherworker shop, nothing in this shop got her immediate attention, and maybe she could find a good item there.

"Sup, so far it is a good morning, how 'bout you?"

Adam's joining was not a surprise, the younger man was an early bird if he remembered correctly, now that he thought about it when was the last time they just sat down to discuss and make small talk. Fenna not sitting down wasn't surprising either, she was probably still restless after yesterday's news.

"Mornin lads,"

Looking at Zell enter the Mended Drum covered in sweat was weird in how expected it was, of course the taller man would go exercising in the mornings, probably meet some new people or started an armed conflict somewhere, he still returned the greeting and watched him go up the stairs

Back to Adam.

"So Adam, how did your last Ascension go? Got anything fancy? since my last one I got some new spells"



Eventually after what he hoped was a shower Zell returned and sat beside them, at his words he felt himself little by little. 9 days and outnumbered, there was a quiet part of him that was convinced abandoning the city was the correct move, evacuate whoever you can and leave behind volunteers to serve as scapegoats. Not ideal but would allow the civilian population to survive. If done correctly it would even secure a small force of adventurers to fight in the next conflicts.

They wouldn't do that obviously, this was the hometown of one of their members, and fighting a retreating war was not in their best interest when the enemy used necromancer tactics. Once more he cursed The Marquis, that paranoid old fuck and his tendency for overkill tactics and risky maneuvers.

Ah fuck, they would have to pull a miracle to survive this.

"Ay, bro," he said to James, some time after the conversation petered out. "I wanted to show you a few things with that anchor of yours. You swing it like a madman. A few tips and tricks wouldn't hurt. Wha'dya'say?"

...

"......Huh!?"

He felt his scowl worsen. Did this asshole really say that to him? He had been fighting for decades longer before this fucking welp even stopped sucking his mother's tit! How dare he say that... that...

Ah

Right

James had no experience swinging a weapon, did he? Of course he would just use the anchor as a club. He felt the tension leave his body at once, shoulders slumping in defeat he gave his confirmation.

"Yah, I really need to learn how to use that thing, thanks for offering to help, I will gladly take it" Zigmund was bitter that he had accepted the help, it rankled but he needed to get good at it before the invasion started and Zell is their Fighter, it made sense to get help from him.

After sleeping in a little later than usual and taking breakfast in her room, MacKensie got herself ready for the day. After a shower, she combed her hair out and creamed her face, then put on her casual outfit of olive and black with a black headband to match. Her damaged Ranger gear was thrown into her rucksack, then after a moment of hesitation, she decided to throw her one-handed crossbow and bolts into the bag aswell. Seeing as the city was under siege, it was probably safer to keep her weapon within reach at all times.

Downstairs, she said her 'Good Mornings' and 'Goodbyes' to the all of the guys in the taproom and left The Mended Drum. However, her demeanour was bright and friendly to Adam and Adam only. For James and Zell, she flashed a stormy expression. Whilst eating in bed, going over last night's events, the matter of Lucy's mysterious unbanning had come up. Zell and James' reaction to it all, plus her memory of James' first-time experiment of Syllagy's blessing had made everything suddenly make sense. And she was furious.

So, the first errand on the list, for the day, was a walk to the Adventurer's Guild. On the way, she bought a couple of sandwiches, some nuts that looked similar to cashews and a bottled fruit drink that she could have for lunch later. The overall feeling in the streets was confusing. For one thing, all of the shops in the Bazaar were open and citizens were walking the streets with places to be. This was all completely unexpected, the only thing unsurprising; the fear in the air - heavy and unsettling. But none of this was enough to get MacKensie distracted for more than a moment. Right now, she was laser-focused, her mouth a firm line, fire in her eyes. She WOULD be exonerated.

Inside the Adventurer's Guild, she found Lucy Bottrill at the bar, talking to the barman. Marching up with her back straight, chin raised enough to show confidence and match her indignation, but not so high as to be arrogant, she appeared next to Lucy and put a hand on the bar as she faced the elf.

"Lucy, I must speak with you about last night," she said firmly. "I know that you said you will not relitigate whatever happened that had me banned from guildhouse, but I insist that you hear me out." And so she professed her innocence, claiming that she would never do anything to cause trouble at the guild and didn't even know what on earth had gone on as she was too angry with the true perpetrators to find out. "But that is none of my business. I only know that my reputation, as a Trydant, is very important to me, and I have not forgotten the face of my father. You may scan my crystal, if there is any way that your computer can exonerate me. Or if you have... a lie-detector in this world, or something like this, I don't know but I will do it gladly. She looked at the barman and back at Lucy, conviction of the truth in her eyes. But I will not be happy until my good name is cleared."

"So Adam, how did your last Ascension go? Got anything fancy? since my last one I got some new spells"

The food and conversation was pleasant. James asking about the Ascension made sense, though Adam hadn't really thought about it. Searching his mind, he was able to respond completely. 

“No new spells, though I feel like my Druid “senses” are heightened, if that makes any sense. Like, take that painting,” he said, pointing to a cityscape of Valheim nearby reminiscent of Vincent Van Gogh's The Starry Night. “The frame is made of maple and the paint itself is derived from at least ten different types of seeds. Dunno how practical that'll be in combat though. I did get something else useful, at least.”

After searching through his bag, the Druid pulled out a certain wand and showed it to the Cleric. “The mustached guy - George, not the gnome - gave it to me. It has a wind blast spell, but only a limited amount before it has to be ‘recharged.’ If we ever see Lillianna again, I plan on giving it to her. How about you, what are your new spells?”

Listening to James as Zell joined them, Adam was grateful for the peace in the days before conflict would erupt. It felt like it was inevitable that he would be fighting once more, so the fisherman appreciated these moments more as a result. When Zell asked James about teaching him stuff, the Druid nodded. After the Cleric agreed, the non-weapon user indicated his agreement. “Good idea. I learned stuff from a few people and I'm not sure we would have made it this far without them.” An idea occurred to him, just now. “Actually, I should go to the Guildhouse and try that ‘source mail’ thing to send a message to one of them.” And another one. “James, do you think-”

Speaking of things he was grateful for, MacKensie Trydant was very high on that list, and she briefly appeared to say hi and bye to everyone (and he responded similarly, of course). It was strange, though. The Ranger was her usual radiant and cheery self around him, but harsh to the other two members of Second Chance.

“Huh, MacKensie seems upset. Would either of you know why?” 

Lucy and Terence stopped their conversation to look at MacKensie, neither unable to get a word in as the woman rattled off an entire speech about her innocence and honor. When the lady was done, there was a pregnant pause before Lucy and Terence burst out laughing.

"By the Quinity, you are utterly adorable," Lucy said as their laughter died down.

With decades in the business, seeing a lot of different classes and reading about a lot of different abilities, to say nothing of knowledge that Polymorph Potions were not an impossiblity, it was not so far-fetched that MacKensie was telling the truth. Lucy also had enough experience with people to be perceptive of the fact that this Ranger's mannerisms, facial expression and overall demeanour felt nothing like the MacKensie Trydant she'd thrown out of the building, a few nights previous.

And so, with MacKensie's strange accent, snobbish indignation and yet heartfelt, pained plea, all wrapped up in a petite, cute little package, Lucy felt like it was too transparent and hilarious not to be true.

"Hmmm," Lucy mused playfully. "What do you think, Tee?"

Terence, the barkeep and long-time friend of Lucy, was already on the same page. Not that he was comfortable in a 'reasonable certainty' like Lucy. But he could tell that the Guildmaster had made up her mind and so he just played along.

"Hmmm." He leaned on the bar and scrutinized MacKensie, thumbing through his handlebar mustache. "A tall tale, the lady's tellin."

They didn't leave the Ranger hanging too long before both chuckling again. Lucy nodded. "Alright. I believe you. Just tell your friends to behave themselves. I don't care what world you came from, I'll take you out of this one if you break any more of my furniture," she warned with a smirk. "Is there anything else we can do for you, or was it just your stained reputation that you needed sorting out?"

Whenever MacKensie was out of earshot and Terence was back to work, he recited the phrase he'd heard to himself. "I have not forgotten the face of my father. Heh." He liked that. Even at his age, he always and had always liked to think that he had become a good, principled man like his own father. He'd never heard such a saying, but he understood it instantly and made him like MacKensie for the words and seriousness she said them with.

James taking offence to the idea of Zell teaching him a few different ways to attack with his inherited weapon was not the most surprising thing in the world. They were men, after all - it was crazy, just what particular things might hurt any given man's ego. Zell understood. He wasn't immune to that kind of thing, either. He grinned through the moment of silence and scowling from the cleric.

"Come on, bro," Zell went on, deciding to offer up something self-depracating to even the score. "Ninety percent of my role, in this party, is to be the enemy's punching bag. At least give me a chance to be a bit more useful, when I have the opportunity."

When James deflated and accepted, Zell was a happy man. Catching Adam's attention be drawn over his shoulder, he looked and saw MacKensie had appeared. "Mornin, Mac," he greeted. The response was a clear indication that he was in trouble with the Frenchwoman, which (Zell being Zell) could be for any number of reasons, but the fact she'd also given James the same death-stare, at least narrowed the possibilities down. In the time it took for MacKensie to leave the building and Zell to quirk his eyebrow at James, it occured to him what the answer might be. "Shit." The real question was; How much does she know? Because Lucy had spilled the beans, but Lucy only knew about a small part of that whole night. This could be bad... or worse... much worse.

Zell covered his eyes as he rubbed his brow, feeling a little bad but unable to take the smile off his face. When he was done failing to show any remorse (she was gone, so it didn't matter much,) Zell decided to tease James about it, albeit somewhat coded-ly. "Hey man, I dunno this Sillagy gal," he said, feigning to leave his friend to hang out to dry alone. "Nowt to do with me."

He chuckled. Of course, the two friends were in the shit, together. Zell was loyal enough to accept half the blame for the Guildhouse ban. And the carousing with local criminals. Oh, and the Grand-Theft-Horse... and the running from the law, jail time and criminal record.

This could get uglyyyyyy.

“Huh, MacKensie seems upset. Would either of you know why?”

Zell looked at Adam, then back at James and showed gritted teeth. This simp has the sense of humour of a sheltered choir boy, the swordsman tried to psychically transmit to his best friend. We tell him and he'll rat faster than a ninja-turtle's sensei.

Then back to Adam. "See no evil, n all that, mate." He shook his head to assure the young man that it wasn't worth pursuing, and hoped James would follow his lead. Luckily there was a great change of subject presented. "Frederick! My man!" the innkeeper placed his food down and Zell thanked him again, then put all his attention on the complete destruction of his second breakfast of the morning.

...

"Fuck me, bro, how have you got the strength to throw this thing about so easily!?" Zell said as he handled James' anchor. "Christ."

Zell got to grips with the weapon, and after finding out that James could summon strength through magic, better understood the Mexicano's limits and what Zell should show him.

He talked him through the correct foot-placements and anchor placement for best accelaration of first swing, and good ways to chain together attacks in two and three-hit combos, using downward strikes to end chain-attacks, where the floor could instantly stop the momentum of the anchor and allow the cleric to reset his stance or switch to magic quickly and effectively.

"Always start with the chain kept short, for a tight first-swing. Step backward or to the side, the opposite way to the direction that the anchor's going, to pull the momentum back quickly behind you so you can attack again.

You can let the chain longer mid-swing once you have some speed, but bare in mind; it takes a bit of practice to land accurately. Although if you get the hang of shortening and lengthening the chain during a fight, that practice will pay off a tonne, bruv, coz you only need an enemy off-guard once and they are mince meat."

They went through some drills, Zell trying to not be absolutely amazed at how far his Weapons Knowledge went. I could have sworn it was just swords and swordsmanship, back in Hommas. But then, by the time they all made it to Valhiem with the cube, Zell knew a bunch about what made an effective infantry unit, military formations and field battle concepts like momentum, morale and regiment manoeuvres. And now I'm an expert with a bloody giant anchor!

The boost to his natural athleticism was increasing too. He was much stronger, tougher, faster and more coordinated than before. In Hommas, he KO'd himself after getting flung into a wooden gate. But some of the hits and damage he'd taken since then had been much worse, yet only slowed him down - force of will keeping him pushing through all barriers.

He told all of this to James when they eventually decided to take a break and go and grab some lunch at an open-air taverna. "...I mean, I still would've liked a fucking lightning beam," he half-joked. "But I really can't complain. We've got a solid mix of Adventurer Classes in our party. They fit well with eachother. And of course, we all work well together too." He took a bite and chewed as he thought that now was probably the best chance he would get to bringing himself to share this 'Baphomet problem.' But should he? The consequences could be disastrous. And was it really a problem...? Having a fucking incredible power? "I trust your leadership. Hell, I trust you with my life. You're like my best fucking mate, in this world. It's like I've known you all my life." (Funny that this was actually true. In this second life, he had, literally, known James all his life. And maybe that was also partly to explain for the rapid bonds he'd developed with the group.) "Feel like I could confide in you about anything. Which..."

This is a fucking gamble.

"Err..."

Don't. Don't do it. You've got it handled. Have I? Yes. Zell was struggling, and he couldn't even look James in the eye at this point. You're in charge of Him. Not the other way around. He is stuck with You. Not the other way around. Don't show weakness. You've shown enough of that already.

At this point, even with Zell's gigantic ego, he was at least smart enough to have a scrap of doubt, but his ego started to win over.

"Ah..." still struggling. "...nothing, mate. Never mind."

Fuck.

Barracker returned back to the orphanage, the kids immediately all embraced Barracker, their heads face planting into him at various heights but he managed to hug them all back at once. He felt pleasant to see that they were all in good spirits, considering the current circumstances. Maybe they were not fully aware of the situation but they surely came across more brave than himself, especially at their age. He gave a salute to Tyrion and some of the older ones followed his lead. But then it dawned on Tyrion and the rest of the kids' minds. Where had his gear gone?

“Barracker, what has happened to your shield?” Tyrion asked, puzzled. He had not been told about any gold tier mission from his lips and normally would be updated on his future missions and Barracker was about to answer him until Isabella chimed in.

“Barracker, where’s my helmet?”

“Oh… Yes, dear, I left it in my quarters across the way. It is very damaged, it has a crack right through.” Barracker explained, he grinned at her wide eyed expression and promised to bring it next time. She always did love to wear that helmet.

“And the shield?.” Tyrion exclaimed again.

He laughed to himself and Barracker joined in when Eren spoke up, shouting beyond Tyrion with a question of his own. “What about the cool sword?” his arms raised in a sword stance, one very balanced on his feet and swinging his arms frantically.

Barracker set the mood with tension and explained how it broke in the fight against one of the WitchQueens strong elite fighters. They were in awe of the story and then that's when he also added in there, that he had thrown his shield to protect his good friend Fenna, who they knew as Aurok Slayer. The kids thought it was a cool story of Second Chance and the different ability classes they possessed. Eren loved the part of Adam turning into a ferocious bear the fondest. Tyrion spoke out when Barracker had finished and asked when they could meet the heroes from the sky, Second Chance. Barracker promised he would see what they were up to and to bring them here if they had free time to spare. Eren and Isabella started to argue on who would win out of the druid and the Ranger. Isabella picking Fenna and talking about having Sil for a companion. Eren picking Adam for his bear transformation. Tyrion was bullied into picking one so he went with the leader of Second Chance, James, and explained that tactics would be his priority, if he joins a party in the future.

After Fenna got the directions from the female adventurer, she found herself in a part of the town she hadn’t been in before. On her way, she heard bickering and she looked for the source. Two individuals – based on their outfits and weapons most likely adventurers – had gotten into a heated discussion. One pushed the other, and the other drew her sword.

Fenna approached them, holding her hands up. “Calm down, calm down. Let’s try not to spill any blood. We’ll soon need everyone who can fight to defend this city.”

“Yeah, but she called me –”

“I understand everyone is a little tense now,” Fenna said as she positioned herself between the two. “Let’s not start with who did what, it takes two to fight, and our enemy would love nothing more than us spilling our own blood. Take a deep breath, go your separate ways, and save your strength for the battle ahead.”

The two adventurers glared at each other but did as Fenna said and turned around, each going in the opposite direction. Fenna sighed and turned to Sil. “This will be a long waiting period before the fight, but I understand people are a little on edge now, right?”

Sil tilted her head and made a soft noise Fenna took as agreement.

Fenna continued the walk until she noticed the sign above a door she was looking for: it showed a needle on top a brown circle, like all leatherworkers, but it had the symbols of the six elements around it. She entered the building that at first glance was simple in design, but she didn’t have a chance to look around as a male voice greeted her immediately.

“Hello! Welcome to my shop.”

Fenna turned to the man behind the counter. A man wearing a green apron smiled at her. She could see an open door behind him, which had to lead to his workshop. “Hello,” she greeted him. “I heard you make good boots.”

“Straight to the point? I like that.” Nimuer Farlorn came from behind the counter. On the counter were some wrist bracers and gloves on display. He gestured to the wall which had five pairs of boots on a shelf above several aprons, belts and pouches that hung on hooks. Shelves on another wall displayed leather bags and waterskins of various sizes. Some of the leather items were plain, and others had decoration on them or were lined with fur. “I have some examples here, but if you want one your size they will be custom-made. No pre-made boot will ever fit as well as one that was made for you.” That sounded like it would take a lot of time, and Fenna's face probably showed that concern as the man continued: “Don’t worry, I know adventurers are always in a hurry. I have pre-made soles and cut leather for most types of feet, it can be done in a day. Are you part of an adventuring group?”

Fenna nodded. “Second Chance.”

“Oh! I heard about you. You’ve been doing some big things for a new party. And you want to buy some boots?” And after Fenna confirmed he asked his follow-up question: “Plain or enchanted?”

“It will depend on the price,” Fenna said. “how much are enchanted boots?”

“That will depend on how many stones I need to use.” He smiled amiably at her confused expression. “I enchant the leather items with elemental stones, I’m one of the few licensed craftsmen in this town who can. Just like my master before me, before he retired and I took over this place. But those stones are expensive, and so is the gold powder I need to work with the stones.”

Fenna nodded again, that made sense. “How can I get elemental stones?”

“You won’t get your hands on them very easily. They are mined from the Magical Caves and only sold to people who have proven they can work with them, to avoid them being wasted. I recently stocked up, there was a merchant here just before the siege.”

Although Fenna didn’t know what Magical Caves were, she decided it wasn’t something she needed to know right now. “What are my options?” she asked, straight to the point.

Nimuer started listing the options: he could offer her boots of water walking, boots of fire walking, boots of the heavy feett and boots of the light feet, and explained what she could do with them. “The boots aren’t fool-proof of course,” he added. “Take the boots for water walking, they work, but if you lose your balance and fall back in the deep water, and you have heavy armour on, the boots will float but good luck getting back up. And the boots of fire walking…” he laughed, “oh, there once was a young man who bought them. Days later he returns, his pants burnt, blisters the size of an egg on his legs. He complained about the boots, but then I asked if his feet had been burned, which they hadn’t of course. He thought the boots would protect him from knee-high flames! I told him that what is covered by the leather will not burn, not the body parts that aren’t covered by the leather, and if he wants to walk through flames higher than the ankle, he’d better invest in some leather pants with the same enchantment. He begrudgingly did.”

Fenna laughed softly. “Noted.”

“So, what boots are you interested in?”

After a moment of contemplation, she decided fire or water walking wasn’t what she wanted, there were downsides and any body of water she couldn’t jump over could still be crossed by swimming or using a raft, and James had a waterbreathing blessing. “I'm not sure yet,” she told the leatherworker. "Both the light and heavy feet boots sound useful to me."

“If you have the funds, I can add both,” he offered. They talked about the price for a moment. It would be costly, Fenna realised she’d have to spend almost all her money if she wanted that. She made a quick calculation as to what her expected costs were for the duration of her stay in this city and possibly what she needed afterwards. She decided that, if needed, she could always do some jobs and maybe Sil could hunt some food outside the walls for her. Sil made a sound, maybe she was bored, or did she react to the thought of hunting? It was a thought that didn’t linger as Fenna thought about the practicality of the boots and her need for money. It wasn’t as if she was planning on staying here, she wanted to find a way home eventually. Why would she hold on to all this money?

“Please make me the boots,” she said in the end, after haggling a bit to make sure she would have enough left to eat and sleep in the Mended Drum, and perhaps treat herself to some relaxation, and shook Nimuer’s hand. The leatherworker proceeded to take her measurements and told her the boots would be ready in the morning.

Once outside, Fenna wasn’t sure what to do with her time. She decided to head towards the Golden Tree Park.

Lucy and Terence had MacKensie on a fishing line, reeling her every way they wanted. Even at the best of times, MacKensie's proclivity to take herself a tad too seriously, made her an easy target for a bit of light teasing. But here? Now? With her reputation on the line, she was the perfect foil for two people looking to have a little fun at her expense.

"I..." She managed at one point. "But..." was her only rebuttal for Terence.

She looked between the two, on the edge of her seat for their verdict. And then they started laughing and she was still confused, even unsure if Lucy actually believed her or just didn't care, which was also annoying. She was innocent!

"Is there anything else we can do for you, or was it just your stained reputation that you needed sorting out?"

"Ummm..." she tucked an apparently-invisible lock of hair behind her ear, trying to collect herself. "No, that is everything, I think." She stood there like an idiot, for a moment, while they patiently waited for her to leave. Then she suddenly realised how stupid she looked and straightened her posture. "Thank you for hearing me, Lucy. I appreciate your time and will not take anymore of it. Good day to you both."

She bobbed her head to both of them and left. Once outside there was a well-earned face-palm. This whole thing had been embarrassing from start to finish - from last night when she found out she was being unbanned, all the way until some future moment in time when she would finally forget that this ever happened.

"I am going to kill those two," she grumbled as she walked off.

Later on, after taking her packed lunch to Golden Tree Park, she went and took a wander in the beautiful greenery until she found a bench to eat at. Knees together with her unwrapped sandwiches on her lap, she ate and let her mind do a little wandering of it's own. The threat of mass murder was right there, in the sky to the east, constantly. It weighed the heaviest among all of her thoughts, making itself known every thirty seconds as she thought about other things.

She missed her family. She tried to timeline her most recent memories of her old life. She stood between a murderous horde of all of kinds of monsters and an entire city of men, women and children. She wondered what the Witch Queen - what Melina - looked like. Was she scary and monstrous? Or just a regular looking and talking woman? Zell and James were terrorists. She imagined herself holding of them by an ear and squeezing painfully. One slip at The Temple of Hades would have meant her end, sure, but another more suitable Adventurer Party would have hopefully taken the job and saved the Temple Hill region. But there was only one chance to save Valhiem's citizens. She wondered what Fenna's children looked like. Her husband too. How was her fellow Ranger doing? Zell and Adam... her recent dream of them flashed through her mind and a knot formed in her stomach. Barracker - this was his home. His people. As scared as she was to die, she'd done it before and was lucky enough to get another go at life. But Valhiem would not get a second chance.

"Fenna," she muttered, snapping back to reality when she saw her friend walking along the path. "Fenna," she called louder, waving a hello when the other woman looked over. She smiled as Fenna came over. "You needed some relaxation too, hmm?"

She asked Fenna how she was holding up and listened to the response, giving an 'I have been better' if the question was returned. She offered to share some of the cashew-like nuts she'd bought, and thought about how best to get into a conversation where she could be there for her friend as a good ear to listen and shoulder to support, but then she suddenly remembered something she'd seen days ago, when they all first arrived in Valhiem. A place that was beautifully advertised at the Bazaar. A place that MacKensie was suddenly pining for more than anything.

'Valhiem's Famous Moutain Spa.'

"Fenna, do you have any plans for this afternoon?" she asked, her hand suddenly on Fenna's, eyes alight with excitement. "Come." She got up. "I know the perfect way to spend the rest of today. A place out of sight of that dreaded artillery fire, where we can actually unwind from this rollercoaster of The Wraith, Zigmund and The Witch Queen... even if just for a moment or two." She beckoned Fenna like her life depended on it, trying to create some suspense before she finally said. "There is a Spa place, on the road to the guildhouse. We simply must go, today." She could already see some concern on Fenna's face. "I will not take no for an answer, my friend. You deserve it. Come."

She practically dragged Fenna to this Spa, who was trying to be fiscally responsible, but MacKensie would not hear it. "Consider it, my treat." There was a chance she would die, next week - she'd blown money on clothes, jewelry, hair and make up, all with much worse excuses than that! Caution had offically been thrown to the wind.

They followed the directions on the billboard at the Bazaar and found the place, the entrance of was built into the Citadel Mountain, and took them down some beautifully lit steps and opened into a large, fancy reception area. MacKensie was gooey-eyed, hands clasped together as she looked around. The stone of the cave, the wooden beams, the paneled walls, the lighting... it was everything she was hoping for.
Then a woman came over to greet them.

MacKensie requested the very best and most expensive treatments, paying whatever it costed for Fenna and herself. There were massages, oils, face mask treatments, lovely ASMR sounds, great service... roughly a few hours of the very best relaxation... and it all ended with Fenna and MacKensie enjoying a privately booked hour in the hotspring deep under the mountain.

"Aaaahhhh," MacKensie was almost falling asleep the moment she settled into the spring. She smiled over at Fenna. "This was so worth it, Fenna. I regret nothing."

MacKensie had spent a fortune.

He listened attentively as Adam called his name, but of course, something interrupted him before he could finish his sentence. Watching Mackenzie direct a glare at him was a novel experience, she usually reserved those for Zell, which could only mean one thing.

"Shit"

Judging by Zell's expression the taller man was thinking the same. Okay let's think rationally, what was the fallout of this situation? She wouldn't leave the party over this he trusted her bond with all of them was too strong for that, in the best case scenario she would get annoyed at them and ask them to do something for her which was fair, worse case? she felt betrayed and a grudge would form. His scowl deepened. He didn't want that, setting aside his personal feelings, they couldn't afford a rift forming right before the siege, he should have informed her as soon as he could but he had forgotten in the preparations for the Temple Quest.

Ahhh he had almost forgotten how stressful it could be to manage interpersonal relationships at work, he was nearly tempted to go for a strong drink but he still remembered what got him in this mess to start with.

And of course, Zell didn't share his reservations.

"Hey man, I dunno this Sillagy gal," he said, feigning to leave his friend to hang out to dry alone. "Nowt to do with me."

He let his head fall to the empty table, a long and pitiful groan leaving his throat. It didn't stop him from answering in kind however.

"Heard of her, cool gal, think she gets into too much trouble though" At least he was still able to find the humor in the situation if they stopped joking then that meant all hope was lost.

“Huh, MacKensie seems upset. Would either of you know why?”

Well there goes the hope that nobody else noticed, just as he was about to explain he caught the look that Zell was sending him, he... he was planning something stupid, wasn't he? As Zell tried to deflect he surmised that yes, the Swordman was indeed just trying to sweep the thing under the rug, he let out another sigh, as much he was tempted to do the same it was better to nip this little flower from the bud before it bloomed into another mess.

He massaged his temples "Let's just say that Zell and I made some stupid mistakes, don't worry, we will solve things soon, if you want more details ask Mackenzie, by now she should be aware of enough to share" And that was if she wanted to share "What were you talking about before you were interrupted?"



Using one of his spells for physical training felt like cheating as he knew he wouldn't really gain any musculature using it, but this was not about condition, this was about learning to hold a weapon properly.

Seeing Zell in teacher mode was bizarre, the guy was focused and nonsense, offering advice and correcting every mistake he unknowingly made, it was reassuring in a sense, knowing that his teanmate was someone he could trust to guide him in a proper path, and when he also revealed exactly how his blessing was progressing he could only feel awe at the other man.

By the time they were done he was sweating like a hog and struggling to catch his breath, fucking hell was he worked to the bone, the British man in contrast looked like he was about to go in his morning jog, was the difference between Caster and Martial classes really this big? Forget about the strength he wanted the stamina. Thankfully there was a tavern close to where they were training, despite not working his legs in particular all that fancy footwork had left them shaking, it was a miracle he was able to walk this far.

Hearing Zell talk about him was oddly heartwarming, he... well he couldn't say he was a good leader, frankly he felt anyone else would have been a better fit for the position, they either had the charisma, the initiative, or the wisdom to carry the party, things he lacked if he was being honest. Just as he was about to say something to Zell the other man, for a lack of a better word, hestiated. That was uncharacteristic, worryingly so, unless the other man was about to declare his undying love for him -Unlikely given that he had seen the way he looked at Mackenzie- then there was something that he felt was both intimate enough to share but also problematic or embarrassing enough to not share it, and taking into account Zell general attitude embarrassment felt like the wrong answer.

That left a glaring culprit.

The sword, that fucking sword, hate flowed from him, from a concerned friend and from a victim, of course, there was something happening with his best friend and it involved that fucking sword!. He wanted to yell, to break something. but that was not needed not now. What he needed now was to extend trust so the trust could be returned, Zigmund was against it, afraid and skeptical but James didn't budge, this was something they needed to do.

He grabbed his glass of water and downed it in a single go, he wished it was something stronger but he needed clarity of mind for this "Hey, do you remember the Blessing James used against Zigmund?" He waited a couple seconds "I never got to explain it did I? Not properly I mean" He gathered his courage "It does not transfer memories, not really, instead it... it makes both entities understand each other, when James used it on Zigmund he didn't get his memories, instead he saw everything, his past, his ambitions, his regrets, his hopes, and he Understood. When the blessing ran its course, I found that I was as much James as I was Zigmund" He struggled to make eye contact, but held firm, the truth laid bare, there was no time for hesitation "Those first hours were rough I admit, I did not- could not accept who I was when they still didn't reach a consensus but that is no longer a problem, it is in the past now and I was able to move on, I am James, I am Zigmund, and I am me" It was relieving in a sense, finally speaking his mind, but this confession was not done for his own satisfaction "I am saying this to you because you have earned my trust and I hope you can trust in me the same way" He was guiltying him, he realized, forcing the confession out of him. But if that was what it took for the man to be safe then he was willing to dirty his own conscience "So please Zell, talk to me"

Zell's answer was completely unhelpful to Adam and made him wonder if the swordsman cared about his friend at all. So confusing. Then James responded and it suddenly all made sense. Well, enough of it, at least. The two of them had done something dumb and MacKensie was mad at them for it. Considering the Fighter was involved, it might have something to do with that “unbanning” business. Finishing his meal, thanking Frederick and giving him the dishes, the Druid responded to the Cleric's information, taking a measured approach.

“I see. Well, I won’t bug you two about it.” Whether or not he would ask the Ranger about this was an open question. She could more than handle herself, so Adam figured he would just be there to be supportive if needed. Whatever that meant would depend on how things proceed. “Considering everything…”

The red-eyed man trailed off. He was going to add “you may have done more harm than you realize” but he reconsidered. If these two did in fact cause MacKensie to be unfairly maligned somehow, Adam knew in her eyes it would be a stain on her honor, and that of her family. The Druid could relate, despite living on a different continent and social class than the Ranger. In his small town, people still talked about things that happened decades before he was born. Reputations were built on honorable behavior and crushed by the opposite.

That all would be very wordy though, and risked creating unnecessary tensions at a time when there were bigger things to worry about. Like an invading army, for instance. So instead, Adam skipped that part and finished his sentence with “if you both make things right, that's good.” Zell's approach to the situation seemed dumb to the fisherman, but he trusted James to get things patched up.

Now, what was he going to ask their group leader? Whatever idea it was, it was gone now. Maybe it would reappear sometime. Oh well, better to be honest. “I forgot what I was going to ask, sorry. I should probably get that letter sent though.”

Leaving the money for the meal on the table, Adam said his goodbyes to both teammates and proceeded to the Guildhouse. Trying to remember what he was going to ask, the Druid completely missed a certain French woman walking in the opposite direction. He did, however, see Lucy Bottrill talking to a bartender he did not know.

The fisherman walked up to them and when there was a pause in the conversation, he proceeded to ask the question he didn't forget. 

“Excuse me Lucy, could you please show me how to send a message using the Source Mail? I'd like to send something to my friend Glee and I've only used it to view the one from yesterday. Of course, if you're busy now, I can come back later.”

Adam mentally cringed as he remembered what he was going to ask. Of course it would pop back up in his mind when he was talking about the Emperor's message. This was something for the team leader to decide, though. 

The Druid was just contacting someone he cared about.

Zell scraped up the remains of food on the plate into a neat pile, scooped it up and and shoved the fork in his mouth, then let the cutlery clatter on the dish, leaning back in a little stretch as he munched away. "En-gee-ell, the food around here is pretty good," he said, muffled by a full mouth. "Add one more reason to keep the invaders out," he added, managing to grin while chewing. Thankfully, he swallowed before continuing with his terrible table manners. "Well, I mean, if Saladin's army can prove they can out-do Valhiem's best chefs, I might be persuaded to turncoat."

It was a good job there were no civilians in earshot. This wasn't exactly peak comedy. Topical, sure. Appropriate? About as far as fucking possible from the word.

Quite used to finishing his meals before everyone else, Zell was content to wait patiently for James to finish, but the silence was broken by his friend.

"Hey, do you remember the Blessing James used against Zigmund?"

"?" Zell hesitated for a moment. This was the first time he'd ever heard James refer to himself in the third person. "How could I forget, mate. I'm not sure we could've gotten in close enough for the killshot, had you not rattled Tin Head's brain so badly that he couldn't think straight."

"I never got to explain it did I? Not properly I mean"

Zell thought back to the moments after the fight. Everyone was hurt to varying degrees, but it hadn't stopped Zell noticing that something wasn't right with James. "Been wondering about that," Zell replied, interlocking his fingers behind his head. At least he didn't have to pry now.

"It does not transfer memories, not really, instead it... it makes both entities understand each other, when James used it on Zigmund he didn't get his memories, instead he saw everything, his past, his ambitions, his regrets, his hopes, and he Understood. When the blessing ran its course, I found that I was as much James as I was Zigmund" This was clearly tough for James to admit, and for obvious reasons. It was fucking PSYCHO CRAZY! "Those first hours were rough I admit, I did not- could not accept who I was when they still didn't reach a consensus but that is no longer a problem, it is in the past now and I was able to move on, I am James, I am Zigmund, and I am me"

What in the actual fuck! Zell thought, frozen in his relaxed pose (while literally ANYTHING but fucking relaxed.) He didn't even blink. This was insanity. James had merged with Zigmund, in mind.

Was it permanent? Would this bring any danger to the crew? Was he strong enough to bare this?

Three questions. All of which, he'd asked of himself - verbatim - very recently.

They were both fucked in a very similar way. Different in details, maybe different substantively, but so similar it was like destiny was playing a sick joke on the pair.

"I am saying this to you because you have earned my trust and I hope you can trust in me the same way"

"Damn straight, bruv," he quickly batted back.

"So please Zell, talk to me"

Zell looked around, as he took his hands off his head and leaned in. "I'm in some frighteningly similar shit, mate. Seriously, it's mad you've just said this to me." He subconciously peeked at James' forehead, wondering how the hell Zigmund was in James' skull. "But what do you mean, you've made peace with this? How?" He shook his head. "Wait, hold that thought. Blimey I have a tonne of questions, we need to seriously have a catch up and get on the same page with ALL of this, cuz every detail is important. But... right... me..."

And Zell proceeded to give a summation of his own situation. He did not completely weigh his best friend down in info, right off the bat, but not out of mistrust. He just wanted to first level the playing field. He told James about Baphomet allowing him to unwittingly 'volunteer' a transfer of the curse to himself. He explained that he'd not had even so much as a single peaceful nap since that drunken night on the town when it all began; cutting that statue in half. He explained that he was absolutely terrified that Barracker was going to get all 'Holy Fucking Crusader' on him and give Zell the same treatment that Zell had given Zigmund.

With that basic outline covered, Zell stood up. "Let's take a walk to somewhere a little less crowded, bro. We've got a lot of things to hash out."

...

They ended up at the canalside, sat down on the grass in a big enough area that no one would be able to get close enough to overhear them without them noticing first.

"I imagine you've got quite a bit of information that might be able to help me out, here." Zell gave a little head-tilt. "From being a Cleric maybe, aswell as being... Zigmund- Bro, are you totally sure you've 'Made Peace' with this arrangement in your noggin, right now? Do you know if you'll have to live with this for the rest of your life, or what?" A small part of him suddenly wondered if James was dealing with any resentment due to Zigmund getting killed by Second Chance. "If you're sure, then I trust you, of course - say no more. But we should probably create contingency plans for eachother, just in case anything goes wrong."