Observation was a cultivated skill of Alison. Something crucial to not just surviving, but thriving in her line of work.

"Alison, I'm so glad you came. How are you?" MacKenzie's voice greeted as Alison walked into the tavern. The lovely French accent put a smile on Alison's face. It was still odd how young MacKenzie was, yet how skilled she seemed to be in her craft. Source powers were certainly something else, but Alison suspected MacKenzie probably was familiar with the bow before arriving in this world. Something about her build, the way she carried herself and favored certain resting positions, all spoke to some athletic or professional ability. Alison gazed behind MacKenzie to see a crew more motley than she had anticipated, all gathered around staring up at her from an impromptu conference table. "Umm, guys," MacKenzie said to everyone. "This is Alison. Alison, meet my party, my comrades, and most of all... my dear friends," she said, endearment rining through each word.

Alison gave a small nod to the group, her face relatively neutral as she continued to size up the party. "Pleasure to meet you all. MacKenzie spoke highly of this group and I think her praise wasn't misplaced. I'm Alison Walker." Motley was barely scratching the surface.

"If you could not tell by that accent..." MacKenzie could barely contain her giggles. "...Alison is from the United States."

To this, Alison nodded again. "East Coast, for those interested. Hell of a situation we all find ourselves in." Alison said.

With that, the group began introducing themselves, starting with the well-armored man. His body language and demeanor already spoke volumes to Alison that he was not like her or the others. He carried himself more like a local and this was soon proven true. He stood and clasped her arm in an oddly familiar handshake she had exchanged with some of her team members back in her old world. She always thought it was a little much, but now it was a strange comfort of familiarity coming from him.

“Barracker Kassel, it is good to meet you Alison.” the man introduced himself, smiling warmly. “I am not as special as the rest of you all. I am a simple Valheim boy. But I’m here to help, and I can start by getting you a drink. What are you having?” he said in a jovial tone. The grip was strong, hiding what Alison suspected to be a far greater strength. There was a steadiness to it too, something she suspected came from experience. That said, his voice belied youthfulness. This combo, as Alison knew, was not uncommon in places like this world and beyond. Wars like this produced plenty of Barrackers, Alison knew all too well. She returned the warrior handshake with equal firmness and smiled.

"Pleasure Mr. Kassel, I'm sure we can use all the help we can get from keeping your city out of the hands of the enemy. I have some ideas, but that can wait. Though, I'll take you up on your offer, for now, a light ale would be perfect." Alison responded, gesturing to Frederick.

“Well, I’ll be! Ain’t that somethin’? Glad to have a fellow American in our midst,” A tall, tan man approached her with an accent that nearly gave her whiplash. He gave a friendly grin. “Name’s Clive. Just a simple farmer, but I reckon we’ll get along just fine. Welcome to Mytheria.”

Alison couldn't help but return that grin. "Nice to meet you, Clive. Texas, right? I worked with a lot of people from there. You're a reliable bunch, so glad to have one of the Lone Star's finest out here in this crazy world as well." she said, shaking his hand, though in a more common way. Clive was certainly fitting the "salt of the earth" types she had met when working on inter-border operations. She had fond memories of those ridiculous cowboy hats their police and rangers wore, dragging the HVTs from their cells for some enhanced interrogation on cartel movements. A small shudder ran up her spine as she then remembered clearing smuggling tunnels alongside them as well. A reliable group of people, it was a true comfort to hear that twang of the South in her ears again. She wondered what led him to be here.

"Zell Brooks. A pleasure." Zell offered Alison a one-sided grin and his hand to shake. "Any friend of Mac is a friend of mine. Boy, do we have a lot to talk about," he said. Alison returned the feigned ignorance and the handshake. Unlike Barrackers warrior handshake of trust and Clive's friendly shake, Zell's handshake was of profession and care. North London, Alison determined, was where he must be from. Plenty of times had she worked with his more clandestine brethren across the globe, and she was glad to know that much like them, Zell had proven to be a reliable man. He kept a good-natured appearance, one that was carefree, but Alison knew there was sharpness underneath that demeanor, one that was always on the lookout. Alison also noticed a bruising, the same on Barracker. A scuffle, a disagreement? Maybe that local somehow found out about the op last night. Well, whatever it was, she would ask Zell later.

Next was a woman more around Alison's age. There was a gentle yet firm demeanor about her, speaking to her experience. Alison took her offered hand as the woman introduced herself. Again, there was a firm yet gentle grip in that handshake. Confidence was read in her eyes as in turn she looked Alison up and down. Alison couldn't help but also be slightly distracted by the large bird on her shoulder.

"Fenna Postma, from the Netherlands. Mother of two, forest guard back home, Ranger here," she said, before gesturing to the hawk perched upon her shoulder. "And this is Sil, I met her on the first day being here," she said. A Dutch woman and a forest ranger turned Robin Hood ranger at that. Alison wondered how she compared to MacKensie in a contest of archery. Their builds and equipment seemed different enough to imply a very different approach from both.

"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Postma. Dutch? Lovely place and the real gateway to Europe when it comes to trade. Glad to meet you and your little companion here." Alison said in a friendly manner as she finished the handshake. If she had to guess, she was northern Dutch, either Fryslân or Groningen based on the "Gs", they were a dead giveaway, but beyond that, it was impossible to place specifics.

They took their seats while waiting for their drinks, MacKensie making it a point to sit down next to Alison as she took her seat in front of the remaining party. Next to introduce themselves was a very tall young man. Alison maintained her professional, neutral face but felt bad for the boy internally. "Kid's not even old enough to drink and ended up here. Never got to show his potential, grow into a full man before having his life cut short." Alison thought to herself as he introduced himself.

The young man's name was "Adam" and was from Michigan. Alison could never place specifics with that region. Too much linguist wandering with those guys in her mind. People from Minnesota sounded too similar to the Dakotas, Albertans, and so on. Then Ohio and Michigan were practically indistinguishable at times. Tangents for later, as he then posed a question to her.

“Have you been doing alright here in Mytheria?” he asked, a hint of concern in his tone. Alison chuckled and waved her hand dismissively.

"Surviving, to say the least," Alison said as she rested her head in her hand. "I suppose I should explain myself a little." she paused, and sighed, weighing what she should tell and what she should hold to herself. "I was... a data consultant back in my previous life. Before I passed."

Old habits die hard it seems. Alison continued

"As you all know, we came here in strange stone coffins. MacKenzie here told me as much, and I was no different. I woke up in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by woods, and had little to no idea what the hell was going on. Still don't. But, as was my job and knack was for, I began searching for answers. I eventually found civilization, and as it turned out, my abilities and disposition made me a good fit for the... less well-known denizens of this world. So I worked. I learned. " Fenna spoke up.

"It must have been tough, by yourself," Fenna said softly. Alison gave an appreciative half-smile to her and shrugged.

"I survived and found good work with the Thieves Guild. Made my path through this new life. I now have a good crew, people I have and can rely on in my life... I'll probably introduce you to them later. But anyway, I made my way, and during all this, I still couldn't even begin to understand the question I started with: What the hell am I doing here?"

Alison then gestured to MacKenzie, putting a firm hand on her shoulder and shaking her with a grin. "But then, this ball of light comes walking into the Brass Monkey. Now, the Second Chance, a great name by the way, really cute, was not exactly unknown. Great adventures who fell from the sky, carrying untold powers, and seem to be rapidly rising through the ranks toward greatness! At least, that was the narrative once we arrived in this sieged city. But then my crew and I put two and two together and realized I seemed to share a lot of the traits and match some of the rumors of you folk. So, we tested it, and low and behold I found this girl here is like me! And not only that, but there is a whole group of people like me." Alison said, finally releasing MacKenzie's shoulder.

Alison then spread her hands and leaned back in her chair, accepting the drink as Frederick returned with their orders. After taking a sip, she shrugged. "And so here I am, finally finding a piece to a very big puzzle." she then leaned in, eyes gleaming for the first time. "So tell me, do you have any more?"

@Loksfjoer@Dark Cloud@Zapdos@Jay009@Zool@Saiyan

Alison sure seemed to have a tough and somewhat lonely path since her arrival in this new world, Adam thought. Not that she admitted it in precisely that way, even when Fenna suggested as such, or that anyone at the table had it easy here. He felt bad, though he would not push her to reveal more than she already had. Maybe another time, if it was needed, but not now. Instead, he responded to her when she spoke about her occupation.

“Data consultant, huh? Never heard of that. Is that like programming? My brother does that sort of thing.”

Whatever her response, the Druid would let her continue until she asked a very pertinent question:

"And so here I am, finally finding a piece to a very big puzzle." she then leaned in, eyes gleaming for the first time. "So tell me, do you have any more?"

Adam drank a little of his pixie juice - not made from living creatures, just a beverage that tasted like Sprite that he learned about from the lumbermen - and then proceeded to answer her question as best he could.

“Kind of? Most of us died before getting here. Some of the officials here think we were summoned from Earth to help them win this war. Which makes sense, because of the Source Mail message, which is basically like email back home. Anyway, we had to do a gold tier mission from the Adventurer's Guild to access that, but it turns out the Witch Queen hacked the message from the Emperor so we don't know what it said. And she had tried sending a water ninja to kill us, so she clearly wants us gone. So we know where to go next and why we're here, we just need to know how to get home. That's important, obviously.” This last, he said while looking at the Dutch woman.

Adam thought for a few seconds, then added “oh, did you get a special item when you got here, like the rest of us? Like MacKensie's gauntlet, James’ holy symbol, or my orb.” Saying this, the red-eyed man took out the item, showing Alison and anyone else who was looking the object with the rainbow-colored leaf inside. “That's one more thing you have in common with us, if so.”

A data consultant.

Zell automatically wiped his eyebrow and forehead with one hard stroke of the heel of his palm. The lazy effort to rid himself of the blood only resolved to leave faded red streaks around his temple, but he didn't care as he was paying attention to the conversation. Now: Zell was not the brightest bulb in the box. He had no idea what the hell a data consultant was, but it sounded like nerd stuff (Adam voiced a somewhat similar train of thought.) And Alison may or may not have been a lot things - who could know, at this stage? - but one thing she definitely wasn't... was a fucking nerd. In addition to this hypothesis, the Englishman had seen, first hand, how slick she ran her team of Thieves' Guild agents, down in that tunnel. How they moved with military precision and timing, as a unit. How they responded to her words, her hand signals... how they looked at her. How she looked. Like she was in control of everything. Like she wasn't to be messed with.

Another trickle of blood made it's way from Zell's hairline to his eyebrow, in right about the same path as before.

A data consultant.

Zell would have to tease her about this at a later date. He smiled easily as Alison shook MacKensie, putting an arm on the back of the chair next to him as he relaxed, thinking how the two women with the attention of the table looked like 'Big Sis' and 'Lil Sis' right now. It was pretty funny. Nice to see too. Zell had a feeling already that Alison would fit in just fine with the group, should she choose to join Second Chance. And surely she would join? They had the same questions... and this world had the same answers, hiding in the same places.

One thing at a time, Zell told himself. Let's survive Saladin's showdown first.

"Cheers bruv," Zell said to Barracker as he recieved his drink, giving him a friendly pat on the back as the paladin sat down next to him.

"And so here I am..." Alison drew Zell's grinning face from Barracker back to her "...finally finding a piece to a very big puzzle." The rogue leaned in, eyes gleaming for the first time. "So tell me, do you have any more?"

Zell quietly cleared his throat and looked around to see if anyone else wanted to speak first. He wouldn't mind being the one to enlighten Alison on the situation, but would've preferred to let someone else, who hadn't already had the pleasure of conversing with the charismatic rogue over a drink, do the talking. Adam was the one to pipe up and Zell gave a couple of nods in confirmation of Adam's testimony before he took the opportunity to drain a little of his tankard.

As he was putting his flagon down, he knocked it lightly against Fenna's drink in salute, gave her a playful smirk and put eyes back on the conversation.

He was interested to see if Alison would unveil anything cool. Zell wasn't sure what Adam's orb did, nor James' holy symbol, but damn did Fenna's spear kick ass, and he was jealous as hell of MacKensie's gauntlet.

Meanwhile, at the bar, Frederick was pouring the drinks for everyone and he asked what Barracker’s thoughts were on the new person. Barracker leaned up against the bar, “Her handshake was firm and true. She has the grip of a soldier and the eyes of one too.” Barracker strokes his chin, “It is strange that the source saw fit to make her a rogue though.” Barracker finished, thinking out loud. He shook his head, I do not know this woman, this is all just a feeling… Strange. He looked at Frederick putting the drinks onto the bar one at a time. The old man raised a bushy eyebrow at him.

Barracker started putting the drinks onto the two trays. “Don’t mind me, just a dumb soldier's intuition getting carried away”. He looked over at the table, watching Alison manhandle the sweet MacKensie in comical fashion. “She seems nice and MacKensie clearly likes her.” he smiled.

MacKensie was a good judge of character. Barracker thought back on the mission at the Temple of Hades. That day… He could remember clearly the shame he felt when MacKensie caught him taking his lamb’s blood vial. My exterior will now and always be a monster, but she showed me that in case my interior matches that exterior, it matters not. I am no monster. And so this was true for Hardul, the dwarf MacKensie had captured but stood up for, who had been forced to work for the cult. Sometimes people show hard exteriors or have hard circumstances surrounding their actions, but even this does not always show what their true heart is. MacKensie has taught this to me, and I trust her judgement. Whatever she had noticed about Alison, the Paladin had a good feeling about the Rogue.

“Frederick, all done, the drinks are all put on the trays and ready to go.” He said to Frederick and was answered back with a nod.

“Come lets go,” with a tilt of the head, the two picked up a tray each and made their way back to the table.

"Cheers bruv," Zell said as Barracker put the final drink down with a nod and took his seat.

Alison and Adam were talking, with Adam explaining what was going on, as it related to them specifically. Barracker did not know what to relay but left his party to fill in the gaps as he was not one of the ‘Earth people’. Barracker thought it was so strange how they all called their entire world ‘Earth’. To him Earth was just rock and soil and was just one of the six elements. But this was probably one the smaller things on the peculiar list of differences which split the two worlds apart.

Barracker enjoyed his drink, remaining attentive to the conversation. At a random point in the conversation, he made eye contact with James, who must have noticed, both Zell’s and Barracker’s facial injuries. His leader would have been smart enough to figure out what had happened, considering how angry Barracker had reacted to James’ information. While James was watching, Barracker patted Zell on the shoulder to show all was well and gave a slight nod to James. He would get the memo.

"Kind of? Most of us died before getting here. Some of the officials here think we were summoned from Earth to help them win this war. Which makes sense, because of the Source Mail message, which is basically like email back home. Anyway, we had to do a gold-tier mission from the Adventurer's Guild to access that, but it turns out the Witch Queen hacked the message from the Emperor so we don't know what it said. And she had tried sending a water ninja to kill us, so she clearly wanted us gone. So we know where to go next and why we're here, we just need to know how to get home. That's important, obviously.” Adam explained.

Alison for the first time in a long time, was at a loss for words. Questions overwhelmed her mind as the new information began filtering in from this explanation. As was her trained mind, she immediately tried to categorize and organize them from most to least important. A difficult task, but all of this seemed relevant and important. With a heavy sigh, "water ninja" was placed towards the bottom, a question for another day perhaps.

Either way, this was huge. She now had an idea of what may have been going on. As she had many times before, dots began to connect. There was this existential battle just beyond her view. Summoning people from another world took power and effort, otherwise, there would be far more of them. And they weren't set up to be nobodies. Each of them, whether farmhand, kid, or spook, was given special items and powers far beyond their previous lives. They were brought here to fight, to destroy this threat to this nation in the form of a Witch Queen. Realization further hit Alison as she began to think through the information again.

They were a contingency! The war was not in favor of the nation, that was obvious. The Witch Queen had the upper hand. So they spent some huge cost to bring them here. It had been deliberate too. Adam had said they had all died in some way. Perhaps that's why they were all chosen. Not for skill or ability, but because of their deaths. Someone, or more concerning, something was being careful in who they removed from the world and dropped into the next. Perhaps their being dead at one point played a bigger part in this "Source" aptitude they all shared. But something went wrong. They were scattered, their communications were disrupted, and left to fend for themselves. A shiver went down Alison's spine. Darkly, she almost admires her newfound foe. The Witch Queen. What had once been a vague name spoken by scared peasants and officials, now was a personal enemy. An enemy that was powerful, competent, and careful. This queen had the advantage, and for the first time in her career, Alison was going to have to play on the back foot.

God what she would give for a pair of MQ-9s and a DELTA team...

As she thought, Adam continued,

“Oh, did you get a special item when you got here, like the rest of us? Like MacKensie's gauntlet, James’ holy symbol, or my orb.” At this, Adam took out his item, showing it to Alison and anyone else who cared to look. The object was a small orb with a rainbow-colored leaf inside. If not for the context, Alison could have easily thought of as some cheap novelty item. “That's one more thing you have in common with us, if so.” he finished, stowing the orb away again.

Alison crossed her arms and leaned back, head tilting to one side. She debated how she should go about it. A demonstration would be impressive, speak for itself, and demonstrate some of her skills, but the limited uses of this ability caused her to hesitate. Finally, she shrugged to herself. It was for the best they knew exactly what they were dealing with if they were going to trust each other, and Alison wanted to get them on her side as soon as possible. She rose from her seat and took one step back.

"Here, be easier if I just showed you," she said before she pulled her hood and veil down. Her face was obscured by the cloth that now covered her face, but otherwise, she seemed fairly unassuming. There was a brief shimmer of light before Alison suddenly was gone from view. Carefully, she softly stepped around the table, each placement of her foot deliberate and chosen to generate the least amount of sound. To those with keen hearing, they may pick up a hint of movement, but otherwise, she remained silent as she moved. A whisp as she glided around the table. After but a moment, she placed herself behind Adam and reappeared as a hand suddenly came down on his shoulder.

Alison pulled back the hood and cloth mask with a smile and a shrug. "This cloak of mine isn't just for fashion. I woke up with it. Seems to bend light in a way to make me as invisible as possible. It's not perfect. I can still make noise and if I move too fast, anyone with a sharp eye will see it distort. That and I can only use it a few times a day, but hey, I'm not complaining."

Moving back to her seat next to MacKensie, Alison took another sip from her mug and leaned back into a comfortable spot. "So, Adam. A lot there to unpack for me. First and foremost, what's this all about fantasy email? I know this world isn't exactly straight Dark Ages, what with the magic and tech, but you're telling me we not only get magical email but that it can hacked too? Christ, and here I thought cyber warfare could be ignored here... Anyway, is this communication system only accessible through a magic computer or something?"

Alison then realized something and became almost embarrassed. "I uhh, also should mention I haven't worked with the 'Adventure's Guild', so these tiers and ranks are something I've never messed with. As you might imagine, Thieves Guild work isn't nearly as... 'structured' in practice, and I never saw any messaging system like that." she finished. If anything, she had even worked against their interest a few times. The Thieves Guild was completely opposed to the Witch Queen and her armies, that much was true. Undead are bad for business after all. However, that didn't mean they had to get along with anyone.

@Jay009@Saiyan@Zapdos

He looked at the ceiling of his room.

He had awoken a couple minutes prior, and he slept little, for the first couple hours he had been plagued with ceaseless thoughts over and over again, even when he managed to drift to sleep his dreams had bordered on nightmares. The events from the last couple of days playing through his head in repeat and the general situation brought his mood down, so here he was, just staring upward in search of answers.

He was surprisingly... calm wasn't the right word, unperturbed sounded cooler. Perhaps it was the part of him that came from that bastard but his general disposition to bad news after the fact was to just shrug and move on.

Still, the other idiot made a habit of contemplating things when he was alone and this was a prime opportunity for it, the lunch was a couple hours away if he didn't misremember and he had no previous arrangements until later, he may as well use the time.

First of all, who was he?

He felt like he was James, he felt everything James felt before the whole blessing incident happened... but if someone were to call him Zigmund it would feel equally natural. Maybe that was the problem, he still was trying to be one while leaving the other by the wayside, not that it was that uncommon he felt, people only showed a facet of who they are after all and frankly, after seeing things from both perspectives there was little push to resume Zigmund usual attitudes, a lot of him had been steadily erased by the Black Sword for a couple of decades by now, all those negative traits of his youth pushed to stupid extremes with his survival only happening thanks to his not so fortunate encounters and opportunities. Zigmund could see that now and it provoked a spot of deep anger inside of him. Fuck Baphomet.

Yeah, on the second topic, fuck Baphomet and that fucking sword of his.

Even after Zigmund death, it continued to haunt him, he wanted to rip the head off the oblivion prince and shove it down his throat, after all it had taken from him death was too quick and not satisfying enough. At the very least the ritual should prove useful after Kass has his conversation with Zell and for that James was thankful. He didn't deserve to have such a great party, even if half of them threatened to give him gray hairs early.

And how could he forget about the last couple of incidents of course?

Zell being overtaken by that Fucking Sword™, Clive dying and coming back to life, Adam's self-recrimination tendencies appearing at the worse of times, and Fenna's sudden decision to take a dip on a motherfucking Source Well of all things. Only Kass and Mac had proven they weren't troublemakers so far. And even there he was crossing his fingers.

And that went without mentioning the group dynamics, he left HR because he didn't want to be subjected to stuff like that godamn it.

---

Before long it was finally time for him to go downstairs, his steps were lethargic but little by little he made his way until he found himself sitting at the same table as Fenna and Adam, from the voices he could faintly hear the rest of the party was still on the floor above and by the gods were they loud, whatever they had going on was rambunctious as hell. Shortly after Freddy came to take their orders and he asked for something light, after the last day he had his appetite was in shambles.

It only turned worse when the rest of his party came down.

Clive and Mac? Spotless as he could expect of them and he even returned their greetings, but the other two? Battered and bloody, almost as if they had been, no, not almost, they had been in a brawl, and seeing how unbothered the other two were acting, as well as his last conversation with Kass he could make an educated guess of what had happened.

Silently he started to categorize the injuries on both men, bruises, some lacerations, a slight limp, and winces on certain motions likely from strained muscles, from the looks of it neither was suffering from broken bones or grave internal injuries, oh it would likely hurt like hell once the adrenaline wore off but for now it seemed like neither man was in fatal danger aside from the concussions but really, what was a concussion to someone with brain damage already?

Yeah, Kass was going down the list, no matter how necessary this whole thing may have been.

As a stranger entered The Mended Drum he struggled with a new question.

Should... should he heal them? Common sense told him yes, Kass was an intelligent man and if he decided this was the path he settled on then it must have been for a good reason. On the other hand the injuries were not life-threatening, and with the natural healing Melee Classes like they possessed, it wouldn't take more than a day or two for them to go back into shape.

'In the current siege that is just a bad idea' said his common sense again and before his pettiness could argue back it continued 'You also don't want to see them hurt'

Then as he debated the man himself gave him a nod and signaled to Zell.

...Damn his bleeding heart.

Without a word he moved towards Kass and started treatment, meanwhile, he kept an ear to the conversation, his hands paused as he revised what he had heard, then he resumed his work, another one like them or not there were injured people here. Though it meant he missed his mark to introduce himself.

As he patched him up he remembered Kass's introduction and he couldn't help but murmur under his breath "Normal my ass, you could punch a tank and win" Making sure to bandage the laceration and apply some ointment, which should help dull the pain and soothe the swelling.

As he worked he listened as she talked about herself, finding herself alone must have been rough, Mytheria wildlife is not exactly harmless and the fact that she managed to make her way towards civilization and thrive was something to be lauded.

Finishing he turned towards Zell and started treatment.

None of the injuries he sported merited something like stitches or sutures, despite the bloody show they were pouring. Still, in the great scheme of things he just needed to repeat what he did for Kass.

Then when he was sure the other man was mostly fine he finally took the time for the first time.

"The Guild offers a variety of services such as the mentioned magical email, as well as rooms, affiliated institutions, and contractual regulations. The ranks are based on the criteria of merit and capability, with some of the aforementioned services tied to specific ranks" He tried to give a grin then settled for a light frown "Sorry to butt in, I was occupied when we were presenting ourselves, my name is James Sirius, from Mexico, and I am the current leader of Second Chance, nice to meet you"

Belle Trydant, MacKensie's mother, was everything a noblewoman should be. Although the aristocracy no longer existed in modern, liberal society, those of the upper class who could trace their bloodline back to the appropriate place - and who had the family fortunes and heirlooms to show for it - still, amongst themselves, recognised and practiced the way of life that was of the nobility of yesteryear. And Belle was a perfect representation of this. She was strong in her own way - in the ways of a traditional woman of class. A staunch supporter of her husband, doing all the little things in the background to make sure that he could go out into the world and conquer his lofty ambitions, shining as bright as he possibly could. He was the sun and she was the moon. Belle could be feeling ill or feeling down, yet still be able to tend to the emotional needs of her children and husband, and still find the energy to put on a brave face, go out into the world and conduct her charity events or formal social occasions with all the elegance and charm she was known for. MacKensie did indeed admire her mother. But, although there were a fair few adult figures in MacKensie's life worthy of respect and recognition, it was Sir Axel Trydant who was MacKensie's sole role model.

It might be that everything about MacKensie could be, in some way, sourced back to the desire to make her father proud. Her discipline, work ethic, self-control, spotless reputation, ambition... Axel Trydant didn't hand out praise easily, but MacKensie was not deprived of his approval. He let her know that she was a credit to the family name and this only made her more fierce in her determination to be the perfect daughter. The beauty and decorum of her mother, with the fire and backbone of her father, and a little something unique of her own to cap it all off. But since being whisked away to another world, MacKensie had been forced to grapple with the fact that she was not perfect. Far from it, in fact. Mytheria had tested her character, her limits and her courage. She had learned a lot about herself - grown in this chaotic but short space of time - but perhaps the most unexpected trait she had uncovered within herself, was that she was prone to hero-worship.

First, Fenna Postma. Right from the beginning, Fenna had attracted the admiration of MacKensie. The dutchwoman was a picture of feminine strength and beauty. Proud and firm, yet at the same time, humble and gentle. In spite of suffering great heartache, being a universe apart from her husband and children, Fenna dealt with everything that came her way with dignity, grace and resilience. Never once did the fire of determination to fight her way back to her family leave her eyes. Just being in her presence was of great comfort to MacKensie and the twenty-one year old looked up to her a lot.

And now there was a second woman who MacKensie had discovered an immediate desire to emulate. Alison Walker. She had connected with the American rogue so quickly, there was just something about her. A certain... je ne sais quoi - a va va voom. Just... so damn cool. Kind of like Fenna with a mix of Zell - a wild description, to be sure, and maybe not quite accurate enough, but it was hard to pinpoint, MacKensie had known the woman for less than a day. Whatever it was about her, MacKensie was detecting the seed of a feeling familiar to how she felt about Fenna.

"But then, this ball of light comes walking into the Brass Monkey..."

MacKensie was taken by complete surprise when she felt the iron grip of Alison's hand on her shoulder, wide-eyed as she was shaken about, forced to do her best impression of a human bobblehead. A smile slowly broke through the shock and she laughed as Alison finally relented, her characteristic nervous motion of tucking her hair behind her ear triggered as she shared her amused gaze with everyone around the table.

Alison asked for more answers and Adam sought to give them, providing a succint account of the most important details. "...So we know where to go next and why we're here, we just need to know how to get home. That's important, obviously.”

MacKensie's lips pursed in a solemn smile as she watched Adam's gaze fall on Fenna for that last sentence. The young man was so caring, always looking out for the best interests of others. His selflessness was a shining light - a moral compass for Second Chance, always pointing in the right direction no matter how the situation turned. Right from the start, when they had woken up in the village of Hommas, Adam had been the first to speak up and let everyone know that they should do the right thing and help the townguard fight the monsters that bore down on them. And since then, he was always - without fail - oriented towards that which was righteous.

What happened next was astonishing. MacKensie was put in suspense when Alison got up out of her chair and stepped back. Then... she vanished! MacKensie gasped a little and looked around half-expecting that the woman had teleported, as their party idiot was wont to do on occasion, but Alison was nowhere to be found. It was barely percpetible under the ambience of the tavern room but her sharp Ranger ears picked up the faintest trace of footsteps go past, behind her and she looked but saw nothing. Then Alison appeared behind Adam with that cool smile of hers and shrugged. "This cloak of mine isn't just for fashion. I woke up with it. Seems to bend light in a way to make me as invisible as possible. It's not perfect. I can still make noise and if I move too fast, anyone with a sharp eye will see it distort. That and I can only use it a few times a day, but hey, I'm not complaining."

Well that certainly answered Adam's inquiry! The conversation continued, Alison showing interest in the Source Comm system, to which, MacKensie chimed in. "I think it would be best if you saw it for yourself," she advised with an assuring nod before Alison went on to explain that The Thieves Guild didn't quite have the same level of amenities for it's contractors. "I see."

James, who had been listening in silence so far, entered the exchange here. MacKensie found herself glad that he did so. James was exceptionally intelligent and his input was always welcome and often illuminating. "...Sorry to butt in, I was occupied when we were presenting ourselves, my name is James Sirius, from Mexico, and I am the current leader of Second Chance, nice to meet you"

MacKensie smiled, not only for his good manners - something that was always appreciated by the frenchwoman - but for his characteristic frown. That was his happy face. And... his angry face. And, well... one tended to get used to it. The man underneath the expression was delightful.

"The Witch Queen," MacKensie began, her voice lowering a little. "She did not only hack the Emperor's message to us. She sent a message of her own." That message was as much for Alison as it was for the rest of them. "All of us were hit with quite a shock when we returned, tired and injured from our mission, to find that message waiting for us. Perhaps fresh eyes on the Witch Queen's words would gleen some new information from it?" She looked at James. "Although, I am not sure if Alison will be authorised for this. Do you think Lucy would allow it?" she was asking James, but then looked to the others too for an answer.

"Here, be easier if I just showed you,”

“Okay, that makes sense,” Adam thought, nodding, “I wonder what she'll-”

And then she was gone.

Her disappearing like Houdini was not what he expected to happen there. Mytheria sure had a lot of new stuff to learn about. How long would it last? Was there a set number of times it could be used? And where did she-”

A hand appeared on the young man's shoulder, answering the question that was cut off. And the Rogue elaborated on what the cloak did, one more question was answered. “Impressive,” the red-eyed man said in response. And the demonstration gave him an idea; perhaps he would have to ask her about it later.

When Alison asked about the source mail and seemed almost ashamed at her lack of knowledge, Adam wanted to jump in. To say that it was okay, that everyone here was new to this world and that it was perfectly reasonable to not know things. However, James beat him to the punch with a solid explanation of what she was asking about. One part of it bothered the Druid though; the Cleric calling himself the current leader of Second Chance. Was that “pathological fear” worse than he expected? Or was the Mexican overwhelmed by the work of leadership? Perhaps he thought this new girl with her noticeable confidence wanted the job? Whatever it was, it did not sit well with the American, so he spoke up after James had said that.

“And you're doing a great job with it, too.”

Best not to lay it on too thick, so he left it at that. He then stayed quiet, happy to let MacKensie talk. She added context to what he had said earlier, then ended it with a pertinent question.

"Although, I am not sure if Alison will be authorised for this.  Do you think Lucy would allow it?"

Ah, yes. The message, and a question Adam knew about thanks to his screw up with the source mail. He did give his word to James that he would try not dwelling on that though, so his focus was on the facts at hand instead.

“Normally, I would say yes. I suspect it got sent to all of us when we arrived in this world. However, Source Mail use is blocked right now because the Witch Queen can read anything that is sent. Maybe if our leader or someone else on the team asked Lucy - the Guild master - about it and explained the circumstances, she would allow it?”

Clive chuckled, his eyes sparkling with warmth. “You got that right! Texas is a wild ride, can’t say I ever thought I’d end up in a dang place like Mytheria though, but sometimes life has a funny way of leading you to where you need to be. I’m just a simple farmer, but I reckon my skills might come in handy with all the craziness around.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret.

“You know, I’ve seen my fair share of trouble too, but I believe in keeping a level head – and a good hat never hurts if I had one.” Clive flashed a grin and chuckled, tipping an imaginary hat. Clive sat his keister down at the table they'd got together, and grabbed himself a drink while still having an ear for the conversation as he downed it's contents Clive’s brow furrowed slightly with concern as he listened to Alison tell them a bit of her own story while rubbing the back of his neck thoughtfully he said “This place has a way of throwin’ you for a loop.” sometimes at the hands of a murderous water ninja other times well much worse things...

For once the man's face looked a bit less than chipper, Clive was doing his best to be the strongest but there were times these days when he was all by his lonesome where he couldn't sleep at night or he woke up in a sweat from a nightmare. He kept waking up like that, always just before that crack and sickening snap before everything just stopped, hiding his expression behind a hearty swig of his drink the southerner tried his best not to think about everything, he just wanted to forget it at least for this time in front of people who saw him as the regular old chipper man he is.

"Nice," Zell commented, loudly impressed with Miss Data Consultant's disappearing act.

"This cloak of mine isn't just for fashion. I woke up with it. Seems to bend light in a way to make me as invisible as possible. It's not perfect. I can still make noise and if I move too fast, anyone with a sharp eye will see it distort. That and I can only use it a few times a day, but hey, I'm not complaining."

"And why would you?" Zell tacked on. It was less of a question and more an awe-filled compliment to the powerful cloak. Zell's eyes followed Alison as she went back around the table to her chair. "Unseen Alison, sitting in a tree..." he sang. It took him a moment to think of some more words. He managed it before the nursery rhyme was ruined. "...Draws her dagger, swoops down, R.I.P." He leaned his chair back onto two legs, clearly proud of himself. Nailed it. "Ha!"

James gave him a tap and Zell realised it was his turn to get medical treatment, so he scraped his chair backward and turned slightly to face his best friend. "You're a diamond, bruv... ow!"

While the cleric worked, Zell listened to the talk at the table. His eyes flicked around but landed on the close-up of James, who had a face of concentration. Zell had to wonder just how many more times James would bail him out with his healing. The swordsman was a total fucking damage sponge. He'd had his insides shredded by a magical direwolf, his ribs broken, his arm almost cut off by a wraith, skewered through his abdomen. He'd had Clive's corpse thrown at him, he himself had been thrown by an ogre into a solid wooden gate (and now thrown into a wall by a vampire,) stabbed twenty-odd times in quick succession with ninja-turtle daggers. James had healed him through most of it, saving his life on several occassions.

Zell grinned at the Mexicano when he was done and gave him a wink. "Ppreciate'cha."

...

Eventually, Frederick came around and took orders, even making a suggestion that they try his new dish which was inspired by James' tacos from last week, looking to MacKensie to back him up about how good it was. "I'll give it a go, Fred. Cheers, mate."

He was glad when all the serious talk was over and they moved on to general chatter and banter. It wasn't that the serious topics weren't necessary, it was imperative that Alison be caught up on the situation, but it was nice just to hang out all together for an hour. The last week had been nothing but busy preparations and everyone had been split up, for the most part. Zell felt like he hadn't sat and shot the shit with James in ages, not to mention all the stressful paranoia and drama that had took up space in his head.

"Clive, does that horse of yours need feeding? Where does it go when it's not around?" And then, with a mischievious twinkle in his eye. "Hey James... have you ever ridden a horse? Something tells me you'd be a reckless bastard on one. Just a hunch."

"Ha, that reminds of this one random time that I had to save my dumbass mate. The idiot had fallen down a well."

Fun times.

Zell's attention was drawn to the back room, behind the bar, where he spied Fred emerge with the first plates. So he got up and asked around for who wanted a second drink, commited the requests to memory, repeated them back and nodded.

"Clive, fancy giving us a hand?" They went over to the bar where they were served by Frederick's assistant. "Hey, thanks, by the way..." Zell said to the Texan. "... for upstairs. For understanding and - you know - not making a big deal about it." Clive seemed the type that might have had to smack a friend around the head before, or at least wouldn't be afraid to, if it was necessary. Fight it out and shake hands after, that sorta thing. "To be honest, I needed some sense knocked into me. Kass did me a favour."

He started putting the drinks on the trays as they came.

"So... are you enjoying Valhiem, then?" Clive hadn't seen it, the first time, on account of being dead during their initial visit. "Pretty nice, ain't it. S'even better when it's not surrounded by the undead. You'll see, after we've given Saladin a slap."

Barracker was impressed by Alison’s invisibility cloak. It was quite the spectacle and would definitely come in handy. Especially in the hands of Alison, who was super light footed, even by Rogue standards. With a significant edge on human ears, the vampire could barely pick up on the faint footsteps of Alison, but could not place her exact location. He made sure to compliment the newcomer, after Zell had finished his humorous rhyming couplet, which strangely had a familiar tune to the playtime songs of Valhiems children.

Like Adam, Barracker had also noticed James’ strange choice of words. Current leader. The Paladin bristled at the word ‘current’. After Adam praised the Clerics leadership, Barracker added. "A better captain, I could not ask for”.

As for whether Alison would be allowed to have access to an adventurer’s source comm. Barracker said it was worth a shot and left the others to talk it out.

After Frederick had gone off to start cooking, Barracker enjoyed the light hearted conversation around the table and the relaxed atmosphere. He was eager to hear more about Clive's ghostly steed. He didn’t recall anything like that in Mytheria before, it was definitely something special. Barracker was glad Zell prompted the question.

“You seem a more than capable rider,” Barracker said to Clive, recalling how Clive appeared onto the battlefield with Daisy, rearing up on the horse in a glorious spectacle. “When you rid off to find help at Cherrad, you got there and back to us in a flash.”

After listening to Clive, Barracker remembered somethings that he wanted to mention, so he directed it to everyone at the table about the new inventions he had witnessed at the Temple of the Quinity. “Fenna, can you believe Tyrion has actually made that skateboard you told him about. All the kids from the orphanage are fighting over it and falling off it. Mother Anne is pulling her hair out.” Barracker laughed. “It is an interesting toy your son has, now that I have seen it, I am surprised Tyrion could visualize the contraption after hearing about it just the one time.”

He also went on to mention Adam's gift to the orphans. “And Adam has given yet another toy for them to occupy themselves with. He grew them a whole climbing frame in the Temple garden’s. It was quite the sight to see. It definitely took their minds off the war, and will bring much joy to them.” He leaned over to give his friend a pat of admiration and also added to Fenna, “Mother Anne asked after you, she hopes you are well.”

When his food came, the aroma had him intrigued, as he was smelling different ingredients, yet it looked just like the same stew Frederick had served him before. He was not here for James’ cooking, so he did not know what to expect. The first bite was more marvellous than he had expected. It gave him a heat, which set his mouth on fire, his eyes watered a little. He turned to Frederick, then James mid-sentence. “I never knew heat could be used as a flavour, it does not overpower the other flavours. It only enhances them.” he gave a thumbs up to the two of them.

He couldn't help but let out a chuckle at Adam and Kass' words, despite his own disagreement with the statement.

"Oh stop that guys, you are gonna make me blush"

And oh boy was that true, despite his rough exterior he had a sweet stop for compliments. More than once his cousins and friends used honeyed words to get him to do something stupid, now granted, most of those times he would have done so regardless but it was those little conversations that enhanced the experience.

As he sat and listened to the conversation a doubt began to drip from his brain.

The fact that people were still arriving was concerning, several scenarios could happen, maybe there was still an 'opening' for more people to drop in which, well, he would prefer not to have another person with a situation similar to Fenna on the team. Nobody deserves to be separated from their family and forced to fight in another world. There was also some worry that something could cross to their side and oh man was that a nasty thought, he just hoped that whatever was causing people to drop here (Cough, Gods, cough) would be kinder to any person from Earth.

As he was thinking Mac gave a question to the rest of the party, he listened to some of the answers as he pondered the question for a second before answering.

"I don't see why there would be a problem" He gave a small shake of the head to accompany his words "Adam has the right to it, if nothing else I am sure the Grandmaster would be happy to get another person registered on the guild" It was an interesting thought, he couldn't say he had as good of a read of the Guildmaster in comparison to her girlfriend but if there was one thing that could get Clarissa Shields to break the cold exterior was Lucinda Bottrill.

It wasn't long after that Frederick appeared with their food.



This was nice.

Recently it felt like he hadn't that much time to just hang with the rest of the entire party, maybe this was something that was lacking in his life lately. God(s) know back in Mexico he had a meal with his entire family at least once a week, and it was definitely better than eating in some seedy tavern or in the barracks where he knew at least a few people were waiting to stab him in the back out of jealou -wait a second, was that a genuine thing or was it an effect of that sword?. Sudden revelations aside, he was genuinely enjoying himself.

Particularly this juice thing Freddy was offering, he especially liked the sweetne-

"Hey James... have you ever ridden a horse? Something tells me you'd be a reckless bastard on one. Just a hunch."

"Ha, that reminds of this one random time that I had to save my dumbass mate. The idiot had fallen down a well."

"Cough, cough"

With quick motions, he hit his chest to ensure the juice went in the right direction. Then he gave the taller man a halfhearted glare, damnit he had already forgotten that ever happened, play it cool, play it cool "Oh yeah? Sounds like the kind of idiot that would steal a horse"

Nailed it.

Hearing Kass's comments he decided to start a conversation.

"I ain't no great cook but I think the flavor on these is all Freddy here" He gave praise to the man "My people tend to rely on spiced dishes most of the time so it's interesting seeing what Freddy comes up with"

An idea came to his head "Speaking of, what is your favorite dish Kass? I heard of a couple recipes since coming here and I am curious if I know your preferred one"

MacKensie was affable and high in energy throughout the lunch. She was so glad that Alison was getting along with everyone and that her friends seemed to like the Rogue as much as she did. When Frederick looked to her for back-up about his new recipe, the frenchwoman was quick to testify to the quality of the spicy stew their host had come up with.

"Oh, it might be the best stew I have ever had in my life," she attested. "I have no doubt Frederick would be awarded a Michelin star for this one." The owner of The Mended Drum was oblivious to the meaning of 'Michelin stars' but, nevertheless, was looked proud to hear to MacKensie's words. "I would love to have that again, Frederick, thank you."

It was obvious by the atmosphere that everyone was glad to be all together again around a single table. This moment in the company of eachother was a microcosm of the comfort they all felt by sticking together through thick and thin. Their was a power in their friendship and MacKensie felt an aura of invincibility around them. Together they could overcome anything, this much had been proven. The ogres and skeletons, the direwolves, Zigmund, the wraiths, the cult... they had vanquished everything that stood in their way. In spite of the impossible task ahead of them, for once, right now - this one moment in time - MacKensie did not fear the future battle. She drew confidence not from herself but her amazing group of friends. The smarts of James. The toughness of Zell. The skill of Adam. The unrelenting force that was Fenna. The literal 'never say die' attitude of Clive. The power of Barracker. The projection of undoubtable confidence of Alison.

They could save Valhiem. She believed.

"I will never forget how my friend, Juliet," MacKensie told everyone, something that was said prompting her to chime in. "How she and I, became so close. I always knew her from my ballet class, as a youth, but we were not friends, per say. Then, I happened to see her when on a family holiday, in Aspen. Such a coincidence. The absent-minded girl had managed to lose her purse, her phone and her cards all at once." MacKensie laughed as she was immersed in the memory. "It was not the first time she had lost all of her things, and she was so frightened that she would be in a world of trouble. We spent all day learning how to contact her cell hone company and bank so that we could cancel her cards and SIM. It was quite the task, we had no clue what we were doing. But we managed it." The frenchwoman shook her head wistfully. "She would never have managed alone. We were fast friends ever since."

Her story triggered a comment from Zell. "Ha, that reminds of this one random time that I had to save my dumbass mate. The idiot had fallen down a well."

MacKensie laughed, bemused at the absurd notion of Zell trying to drag his friend out of an actual well. And I thought Juliet was a little dopey at times, she thought.

James almost choked on his drink in reaction. "Oh yeah? Sounds like the kind of idiot that would steal a horse," the Cleric replied.

MacKensie laughed, completely oblivious to the private joke being shared between her two friends. Once Clive and Zell went to the bar for a second round of drinks, and the food was served, MacKensie tucked in to her stew with her spoon. Bliss, was her review of the first mouthful. James turned the conversation onto the group's favourite food, with Barracker going first. MacKensie, cognizant of including Alison in the conversation, smiled at Barracker's choice before redirecting the question to the Rogue.

"What about you, Alison? I am sure you have sampled many a cuisine in your time," she remarked, rembering how easily Alison had pin-pointed almost down to the city. The older woman was no-doubt well-travelled. MacKensie was interested to know what her take on food would be and if there would be any stories to go with it.

The broad-shouldered southerner leaned with one arm on the table "Clive, does that horse of yours need feeding? Where does it go when it's not around?" the farmer grunted amused by the question and thankful for the distraction from his otherwise pleasant thoughts he had been having.

"Well, I reckon old Daisy if she was off somewhere an' I were her I'd be lookin' for some good feed or startin' some mischief but I'm pretty sure she just is not here when I ain't called her she." Clive scratched the nape of his neck, he didn't really know how or why he could call upon the spirit of his riding horse and couldn't really explain everything as even he didn't fully understand the extent of his abilities “You seem a more than capable rider,” the armored man chimed in, Barracker seemed more interested in the topic than Zell “When you rid off to find help at Cherrad, you got there and back to us in a flash.” nodding the Texan chuckled, shrugging a bit "She were always a bit fast on the track, maybe it paid off in heaven if horses go there but my dear old ma' might not agree."

It seemed drinks had run out quicker than a desert oasis drying up "Clive, fancy giving us a hand?" ever the type to offer a hand, without needing to say anything the southern man simply grunted standing up from his seat and moseyed on over to the bar to help the Englishman fetch another round of drinks for their friends "Hey, thanks, by the way..." raising an eyebrow Clive listened to Zell "... for upstairs. For understanding and - you know - not making a big deal about it." he snorted a laugh, roughly clapping a hand on Zell's shoulder as they waited for their drinks "Shucks, there ain't no need for gratitude you'd have done the same were the roles reversed sides' sometimes a knock in the head is what we fellers need every once in awhile."

"So... are you enjoying Valhiem, then?" for once the farmers face fell a bit, the question though simple brought Clive back to his original thoughts "I won't lie to you boy, sometimes I don't know what's really happening in the place I did dang well die...But with ya'll I've been able to do a lot of good for this strange world I guess."

"Well undead or not, we’ll show that Saladin some good ol’ Texas hospitality and then some." the farmer laughed shaking himself from the gloom he felt, but behind that there was something else he wasn't saying but for the time being the two had drinks to be bringing back to the table.

It was heartwarming to see them all getting along like this. Alison watched as they talked and caught up with one another. It was obvious everyone had been so busy with the siege and related matters that her visit was the first time in awhile they had gotten the chance to just hang out for a moment. That classic calm before the storm.

Alison gave them their space, leaning back and enjoying her foul-tasting drink. The ale here was slightly better, she'd grant them that, but Christ, it wasn't even a Corona. She put on a more relaxed demeanor, but even then, her cold, blue eyes carefully looked over each of the people at the table. They all seemed capable enough people. Nice as they were, Alison needed to know if they would measure up when things got rough, and by the way things seemed, it looked as if they would.

James though, was an interesting choice. "El Jefe of the group eh? Odd though that he'd introduce himself as James... Mexican descent sure, but that name is an English one. The real question then was mom or pa? Actually, not important. What was important was the position. If they're calling him the 'Leader' of this little band, then he must have at least convinced them enough, if not earned it. I'll have to keep a special eye on him then, try not to cause any trouble with him. If I'm to help these people out of this world, I can't have their leader ignore me when things get tight..." Alison mused.

Alison considered this through the back-and-forth banter before Mackenzie interrupted her thoughts. "What about you, Alison? I am sure you have sampled many a cuisine in your time," she remarked in a curious tone.

Alison smiled and shrugged. "The best airport food was in Prague. The most expensive beer I ever had in my life though... Other than that? My job had me moving around too much for me to do any real fine dining sadly. However, I was treated to a lovely restaurant in Italy. Real fancy place, had to put on a dress for the first time in... gosh, years? Anyway, they had this delicious champagne and a Veal... Buco I think it was called. Everything about it, the food, the atmosphere, it was... " Alison drifted off into silence. A lovely yet painful memory filled her head. The night Terzo had given his special proposal. She shook her head, banishing the memory away. "Sorry, just remembering that savory food and cool air," she said, playing off the momentary pause as casually as possible. "But yeah, if I had the choice, it'd be that meal. "

Once the group finished eating she stood. "So, who wants to lead me to the guild and see if I can't enroll or at least get ahold of that message?" Alison said with a grin.

"Well undead or not, we’ll show that Saladin some good ol’ Texas hospitality and then some." the farmer laughed.

There was a split-second where Zell noticed... something. Something in Clive's face that the Englishman had never seen there before. Hadn't cared to see before. Also, he wasn't even sure what it was. It caused Zell to freeze momentarily before sharing in the laughter. "Yeah," Zell agreed. "Then pack em up and send them home." Just before grabbing a tray, Zell gave Clive a little pat on the shoulder. "You're a good man, Clive. Can always rely on you to hold sturdy."

On the way back to the table, Zell was in good spirits, but in his mind he began wondering. Had anyone really bothered to ask Clive how he was feeling? Not that Zell could blame anyone if they hadn't - Clive was the quintessential tough guy. That whole 'unshakable, confident' disposition Zell liked to carry himself with? Clive did it and made it look easy. The Texan was cheerful and friendly, but strong and self-contained with it. Point being: It would be easy to forget that the man had only recently been RESSUR-FUCKING-RECTED. What in the fuck was his first thought when he woke up? Was it like, right after Zigmund had damn-near twisted his head off like a bottle of Sprite, or had he been to some kind of afterlife for his brief stint out of the game? And how traumatic had that experience been?

I'll have to keep an eye on him, Zell thought to himself, his stupid grin on his face as he approached the table and began setting half of the group's drinks down. Maybe consider how to approach asking a grown-ass man to open up emotionally to another guy.

“Fenna, can you believe Tyrion has actually made that skateboard you told him about. All the kids from the orphanage are fighting over it and falling off it. Mother Anne is pulling her hair out.” Barracker laughed. Zell did too as he put his drink down and got rid of the tray on an empty table behind him.

Ha! Fenna giving the kids first-class ideas, he thought. Gotta love it.

“It is an interesting toy your son has, now that I have seen it, I am surprised Tyrion could visualize the contraption after hearing about it just the one time.” Barracker also went on to mention Adam's gift to the orphans. “And Adam has given yet another toy for them to occupy themselves with. He grew them a whole climbing frame in the Temple garden’s. It was quite the sight to see. It definitely took their minds off the war, and will bring much joy to them.”

"Oh that is bloody awesome, that is." Zell couldn't contain that one. He could just imagine the crazy-amazing jungle-gym Adam had concocted. Not to mention the looks on everyone's faces as the Druid conjured it up from the soil, just like how he'd grown that bridge back in the Mazy Hillocks. Zell could feel second hand joy for the orphans and it really brightened his day. Adam was a paragon of altruism. "Plant Man, you gotta heart of gold in that chest. Top notch, bruv."

He gave the youngest member of their crew a thumbs up. Adam's considerate nature could not be overstated and it deserved mention more often. A month ago, Zell would have simply considered him soft - a typical 'nice guy' - but after being saddled with this hero business, Zell had realised that he needed to fix his mentality. Adam had no need to fix anything. He was perfect for the role of saving the world already. And how could the swordsman not respect such a principled, honourable and kind man? He was currently in the process of falling for MacKensie Trydant, in large part for these exact same qualities! While everyone here had a good heart, (Zell probably a little lacking behind the others,) MacKensie and Adam really stood out in that respect. They were do-gooders to the core and damn proud of it.

"Hey Kass, you'll have to bring us all to the orphanage after this is all over," Zell suggested. "Have a celebratory feast with your family."

The food was great. Zell gave the whole 'macho Englishman' shtick of, "Could do with being a bit hotter" - In England, watching the football and having a few pints, then going and getting the hottest fucking Vindaloo curry you could find was considered 'manly.' It was a strange phenomenon when one actually gave it some thought, but Zell didn't make the rules. His grandad did it. His dad it. His friends did it. And he did it too. But anyway, he did give the dish overall a complimentary review and joined in with the others when showering Fred with praise.

"The best airport food was in Prague. The most expensive beer I ever had in my life though... Other than that? My job had me moving around too much for me to do any real fine dining sadly. However, I was treated to a lovely restaurant in Italy. Real fancy place, had to put on a dress for the first time in... gosh, years? Anyway, they had this delicious champagne and a Veal... Buco I think it was called. Everything about it, the food, the atmosphere, it was... " As Alison drifted off into silence, Zell too was drifting off, her story about the restaurant prompting the recent memory of The Nightingale and his 'non-date' with MacKensie. Fine dining indeed. And could dining be any finer than when sat across from the most gorgeous woman in two worlds? His eyes strayed to MacKensie as he wondered if she was thinking about the same thing. "Sorry, just remembering that savory food and cool air," Alison continued. "But yeah, if I had the choice, it'd be that meal."

"That sounds like pretty damn good living, if you ask me," Zell said, dragging his line of sight off the Frenchwoman and smiling at Alison. "And no mistake."

Once everyone was finished, Alison wanted to see about getting access to the Source Comm message. Zell figured James, as their registered party leader, was probably the best man for the job. Zell himself, downed the last bit of his ice-water. "I'm gonna grab one more drink. Then head to the Military Centre. Was asleep all morning. I should probably go see what The Lions have been doing with their day."

All in all, it was an enjoyable lunch. Alison was a top lass, it was great to chill with everyone as a group and the food had hit the spot nicely. Very importantly, it was extremely fortunate to have met Alison after her coffin getting seperated from the the rest of them on arrival. Her experience - her errrm... Data Consulting... would be highly beneficial to the group's survival in this world. Of that, Zell had no doubt.

As people started to break away, saying their goodbyes, Zell gave a couple of 'See ya later's before heading to the bar to get another tall glass of ice water. Alison's story of that Italian restaurant had really got him thinking about that night again. Such a mess. But surely one that he could clear up. Surely? He didn't know. MacKensie was not like any girl he'd dealt with before. He'd never been so scared of fucking things up even worse, too.

He let a breath out as he leaned on the bar, staring at the barrels behind Frederick's assistant. "Cheers, boss," he took the glass and lingered for a second to take a sip and straighten things out in his head.

Hearing everyone share their favorite meals was interesting, his own was Tortas Ahogadas/Slow Roasted Lamb, which made sense considering his upbringing. Though he had to admire Freddy's cuisine, it hit on that sweet spot that made his tongue hurt the good way.

As he listened he was interested in particular hearing Alison's tale, with little travels under his belt it was a curious experience hearing someone describe their experiences in another country.

Still, despite making merry there was some business left to do.

"So, who wants to lead me to the guild and see if I can't enroll or at least get ahold of that message?"

"I will, chances are I need to be there anyway"

With that they moved, the trek was short as always, it felt convenient for the Mended Drum to be so close to the Guild but he guessed it made sense in a geopolitical and economic way, what with adventurers being big spenders and roamers. He wondered if Freddy was the original owner or if he inherited.

Despite his idle daydreaming, he arrived at the guild as quickly as expected.

And the Guildmaster was easy to find.

"Hey Guildmaster, this is Alison" He signaled at the woman "I want to register her as another member of Second Chance"

Did he really have to be here for this? It wasn't bothersome but it was interesting that it was procedure for the leader to be present. Or maybe he was just assuming, despite his wealth of experience in certain areas guild matters were never something he focused on, for all he knew his presence here was a mere formality that Lucy demanded.

Ah, it seemed they were talking now.

Better focus.

Barracker gave a pat to James and thanked his captain for the patch up. After spending some more time with everyone, Barracker felt it was good time to depart from them, to tend to matters. He gave them all his goodbyes and Alison his usual salute, a fist to his chest. “Farewell Alison, it was a pleasure to meet a new friend to the cause”.

Barracker thought to himself. Very nice woman, I do hope Alison does join Second Chance, as having someone of that skill set would be a massive help to party tactics and the war on Mytheria as a whole. He went to his room to grab the books he had borrowed from The Academy Library, then headed out. First on the list of things to do is to return these books back to the library and have a chat with the water mage, Neebs.



Once he entered the library, Neebs met him, friendly greeting as usual on the front desk. “Well friend, you got through them books at quite the speed.” he smiled but there was a look of concern. Barracker guessed it was because of the nature of the books he so urgently needed. “I hope there is nothing wrong Paladin.”

“Too long of a story to explain, just a friends quarrel but everything is great now I assure you.” the Vampire presented the three books he was given permission to take. Neebs took the three off him a scanned them back into the library’s system before sorting them back where they came from.

“Man of your word, that’ll get a person far-”.

Neebs was interrupted by the Paladin. “Neebs I could really use your help.”

The water mage stopped and turned to him. The information Neebs had, Barracker needed. His water domain had not kicked in fully yet but he could feel the potential strength behind, coursing through, unable to fully acess it. Maybe with this man’s help, it could be controlled, with the right teacher, this is worth another shot.

“I am a Paladin, but my domain is water. I have always had an ineptitude at controlling my domain. But in my last fight, something happened. It was as if I could feel the opponent through our mutual domain. It was like I had awakened. My control over water is minimal but I really believe that I should give magical study another shot.” Barracker looks at his fist, as he clenched it. “Then I could be of more use to everyone.”

In his mind, he imagined his power as a water beast what had awakened that day, a silent yawn, sitting up, head turning slowly to look right at the Barracker.



Now it was just stood there, behind a prison barrier, pacing back and forth, watching patiently, silently projecting it’s desire to be free.

Neebs shared a look, Barracker could not tell what he would reply with…

New to Alison and familiar to James, the interior of the Adventurer's Guild still looked fairly normal with business as usual happening in the common area. Adventurers were dotted about in ones, two and threes, enjoying some downtime away from the busy industrial, military and magical sectors of Valhiem. No party was whole, such was the demand for Source Crystal manpower in the preparations, and no one was sat in leisure for too long before getting up to leave and return to their work elsewhere in the city. The vast majority of Adventurer parties were Silver and Gold ranked, with the odd Bronze tier here and there. All those Platinum and above had long since left Valhiem to answer the call of Capitol City, The Fortress of Fornost and other places where military might was needed most.

James Sirius drew the attention of a fair few pairs of eyes upon entering, including Terence the barkeep. By now, everyone knew about the party, Second Chance, who came from another world. James and Alison would find Lucy Bottrill, 2nd Guildmaster of The Adventurer's Guild: Valhiem Chapter, at her desk up the stairs on the mezzanine floor where she liked to work.



Scribble, Lucy's dog, jumped off the Easterner Elf's shoulder and ran to James to bark at him, but the little dog's yapping shrank away when Alison made it to the top of the stairs. Scribble could sense the presence of Alison's Whispers, whimpered and ran back to Lucy to hide behind the desk.

Lucy managed to catch this, but did not let it bother her too much as she got up and placed her hands on the desk. "Hello James," she greeted. She never forgot a face anyway, but she had also been dealing with Second Chance a lot since their arrival in the city. "What can I do for you?"

"Hey Guildmaster, this is Alison" He signaled at the woman

"Afternoon Alison." She gave Alison a nod and then looked back at James.

"I want to register her as another member of Second Chance"

"Not a problem. Strength in numbers, I see. Good call," she said before gesturing to the Source Crystal scanner embedded in the desk. "If you'd both like to scan your crystal, I'll get you set up."

When she found out that their intention was to use the Source Comm, she first refused and explained that the system had been compromised and shut down. But, understanding that Second Chance were an exceptional cicumstance and potentially highly important, she agreed to let them look at their Comms so long as they did not send any messages out.

"Alison Walker," Lucy read on the system, checking a few other details before looking at the woman. "You're not from here," she noted. "Have you been in Valhiem long?" she asked, making small talk while she updated Second Chance's details and finalized the registration. Once it was done, she placed her hands back on the desk. "Alright, you are now officially a member of Second Chance." She rebooted the Source Comm system and left them at the computer terminal to read their messages, then read up information on Alison, her experienced eyes figuring out from the abnormalities in the data that the Rogue was also from another world. Another shocking development. Lucy looked warily at the new woman, wondering how she had only just turned up now. The guildmaster would have to report this as soon as possible.

As for the message that James and Alison had come to read...

This is an Imperial Missive from His Majesty, Emperor Quintus Young:

To those who read this message, I hope it has found you well. Please take my words in utmost urgency and with great understanding and patience, for I know that it will likely not have been easy to get this far. You.......... ............ .............. .............. ........... ...........

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........... .............. ............. ............. .............. ............. ............. .......... ............ .......... .......... ........... ........... I see you. You do not belong here. I'm sorry. You should not have been dragged into this. Those who did so are selfish, ignorant, manipulative and unworthy of you.

I can send you back. To your world. Where you belong. From where you should not have been stolen. I will return you to your rightful place. Back in your familiar world. Back with your families and friends. I'm sure both miss you very much.

Let me help you. Abandon those who are trying to drag you into this war. A war you do not understand. A war that they will show in a light that favors them. Do not listen to the lies of the guilty. Or the lies of brainwashed. They will paint me as the cause of all suffering. Label me, The Evil Witch Queen. They will paint this world as Black and White - Good and Evil. They will paint the imposter Emperor as the righteous. The only truth they will actually tell you is that I am the leader of the invading army. I am the aggressor in this war. This much is true, I do not deny it. Nor do I deny using brainless beasts to help me. For the brainless cannot be brainwashed. It is all I have.

We have a lot in common, you and I. Having our rightful lives stolen from us. Now being used as political tools for usurpers and traitors to Ileandra Young the Great's ideals and foundations.

Let me help you go back home.

East.

East to Azeroth.

The road is dangerous. Wartime cares little for innocent lives, unfortunately. Those who walk in the path of the Warmachine will get trampled. An unfortunate consequence of a much greater cause.

East.

East to Azeroth, is where you will find me. Is where you will find salvation. Come of your own free will, and the closer you get, the safer the lands will become for you. My power and influence increases the further east you go. The closer you get to Azeroth. I promise that you will be treated kindly. I promise not to use you until your bodies and spirits are dried up, dangling fake promises and platitudes in your face like carrots for horses.

I was not the one who stole you from your former life. I am not the one who seeks to use you a tool for ends you do understand. But I can be the one to save you from your nightmare.

Yours faithfully,

Melina Rasputia Young, the Rightful Empress of The Free Peoples Empire.

From day to night and back to day again, the industrial sector worked away. They grinded out iron nuts and bolts, steel and wooden beams, and much more. The top craftsmen of the city made the most of the volunteer labour force and experienced builders. Scaffolding, spiked barricades, plaforms, rope bridges, dragon's teeth and anything else that might be useful.



The streets were set up with barricades, some blocked up completely, all a defensive plan to funnel any breaching enemy forces into specific choke points in the city, where Valhiem could mount enough of a defense to provide cover for tactical retreats.

The massive scaffolding towers holding up platforms for the mages to position themselves on were almost complete. A network of platforms and rope bridges ran along the tops of the buildings in northeast quadrant, above and behind the walls where Valhiem would mount their defense.



"How goes the evacuation?" Commander Thorn asked his subordinate.

Ever since the news had come that The Witch Queen had hacked Second Chance's Source Comm and potentially knew that Valhiem had gotten a spy into Saladin's camp, the evacuation had begun. They'd managed to bring near-2000 citizens up the mountain the previous evening, and organised them amongst the beds and makeshift living arrangements in the spare halls of The Citadel and The Academy. But progress had been halted during the night.

"This morning, we finished evacuating the northeast quadrant of the city," the officer reported. "We have started on the northwest and southwest quadrants this afternoon. We should be able to make a small start on the final southeast quadrant this evening and then finish tomorrow morning."

"Good work, officer." Commander Thorn was pleased, but nervous nonetheless. He wanted everyone up Citadel Mountain as soon as possible. With no idea what the enemy might do, he felt like his people were exposed. "Go to the Military Centre and take as many men and women as you need to expedite the process."

"Yes sir."