[IC] Realms of Sun & Shadow

[SkeankySnack]

Céline

_{Location: Aelios’ Temple}

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Celine watched as the woman from her vision was sent down a side passage, while a nearly identical version of the same woman approached them. Unlike the distressed and armor-clad woman that she witnessed, this woman was dressed in a priestess’ garb and greeted them both as such, reaching out to receive her companion’s ‘offering’. Hospitality, quickly turned to curiosity as Celine was queried as to her knowledge and recognition of this acolyte’s sibling. Before she had a moment to answer, however, Celine was bombarded with similar emotions to what she experienced outside before the temple. It wasn’t like the rancorous call of a warhorn like before, this was more like a general distressed cry directly emanating from the woman before her. The feelings were intoxicating, desirable, yet nauseating as Celine resisted their call, unwilling to fully imbibe upon such a veritable wellspring.

Physically her ears drooped and her balance swayed as she caught her head in one hand and the edge of a pew in her other, allowing her body weight to guide and prop itself upon the wooden surface. Mentally, pieces were suddenly falling together, the identical appearances, the familial heritage, and the similar emotional trauma resurfacing pieces of the vision she experienced moments before. Had Celine not bore witness to both the priestess and the soldier, she would have easily mistaken this blightborn woman to have been the woman in her vision. Her new revelation, however, far exceeded the initial dread she felt, for she had experienced the death of the woman before her; and her sister had to watch. Celine rubbed her head, fighting back against both the nausea of emotions she felt and somehow the invasion of the thoughts behind the emotions in her head. Deep breath, count to three, exhale, count to three. After a few moments she had regained enough composure to wipe the sweat that had formed on her brow and a few stray tears that both belonged and didn’t belong to her.

“I’m sorry,” she straightened herself up and looked down at the young woman before her, and offered a weak smile and a small bow of her head, “Forgive me for not answering right away, I felt a bit…overwhelmed for a moment and needed to compose myself,” she raised her head up, “Thank you for receiving us Priestess Ranni, my name is Dr. Celine Moreau and this is my companion Ivor,” she gestured towards the large, fur clad man, who opted to present his fish to the priestess. Celine’s eyes wandered towards the side hallway where the other woman had gone, if she remembered correctly Tingara’s room was down that way along with other spare rooms, one of which she had occupied. The glasslike spheres returned their gaze back to the priestess, “I don’t know if I can really explain how I saw your sister, any better than how I can explain why it feels like you’re inside of my head. All I can say is, ever since I changed, I can feel what other people feel and, maybe your emotions are strong enough that…I could see your sister through your eyes,” her gaze shifted, unable to admit that it was when Ranni died that she had seen her sister. Whether or not the priestess believed her or not didn’t really matter, it was already hard to have rationalized it herself when she first succumbed to the first few ‘visions’.

Celine attempted to deflect, proffering a sheepish smile, “I know that probably sounds…insane to hear.” Before a response could be uttered though, Celine’s ears perked up at the sound of yelling and smashing wood, her head whipping to the left as streaks of light flooded from the hallway beyond, “What in the blazes?”

_{mentions Tia@c3p-0h; speaking with: Ranni@Queen Arya}

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Ivor, The Wild

_{Location: Aelios’ Temple}

---

For the most part Ivor had kept quiet per the doctor’s request, after all he didn’t want to accidentally offend the goddesses and have the quiet town of Dawnhaven fall into chaos. Still some things gave him pause, such as the two completely identically, yet differently dressed women and Celine’s relationship to them. It didn’t help when Celine didn’t answer right away and nearly toppled over. While fortunate she was able to catch herself, it didn’t help but give him stress as he decided between whether or not he should drop his offering to help Celine, or if it would even be accepted after being dropped regardless of circumstance. Fortunately the stress was short lived as Celine eventually snapped out of her stupor and introduced the two of them. Now having his name dropped he felt comfortable enough to present his offering to the priestess before him.

“Greetings, friend! I am Ivor, bless you!” Ivor made a gesture akin to one sneezing in their balled fist as he spoke, believing it to be a universal religious greeting, “I present to the goddess, this,” he placed the half a meter long blue and purple scaled perch in the priestess’ outstretched arms, still cold and slightly clammy. “I found many much fish like this, people will get to eat, but goddesses should eat too!” Sensing he was being a little too loud again he silenced himself as Celine gave her explanation. His eyes wandered the building, taking in all the fixtures and features, the central flame that lit the entire hall. His eyes wandered towards the open hallways, one of which had noise and light suddenly emitted from it. Ivor’s eyes narrowed as he sensed something unusual afoot, “Wait here, Ivor will look.”

Ivor’s rather large frame pushed the much tinier priestess to the side as he approached the hall where the other woman had gone. He couldn’t quite make out the noises, although he did hear an exclamation of protest from Celine behind him. As he peered down the hall he saw light coming from a room at the end of the hall, door half open and splintered, a figure beyond it. “What is going on over in there!? Are you alright? Are you experiencing the breaking and the pains?! There is a doctor here, they can break your arm back into place!” His voice echoed, loudly.

_{Interacting with: Ranni @Queen Arya}

[The Muse]

Location: Elara's Home

Despite the calm expression on Elara’s face, Kira noticed the way she gripped the doorframe and heard the subtle rise in her heartbeat—practically felt it as if it were her own—a betrayal of the composure the handmaiden was attempting to project. Ever the protector, true to her core.

Kira’s fiery orange eyes lingered on the handmaiden for a moment longer, the heat of her gaze both a weapon and a tether, her thoughts spiraling further. Her senses tugged at her like a thread pulling taut. Urging her to step forward, move into Elara’s personal space, bare her fangs. It was maddening. That sound, that pulse that filled the space between them, called to something primal—a part of herself she had long fought to suppress.

Elara’s instinct not to trust Kira was right. She needed to leave.

The logical part of her screamed that staying was dangerous, that she already stood too close to the edge. A gentle push could send her tumbling into depths of darkness she had clawed herself out of and tried so hard to avoid. Yet, a sliver of her couldn’t seem to pull away, caught between the past and the present, between who she wanted to be and what she had become. That beast in the dark was not her. It couldn’t be her. It had no claim on her.

Still, the effort to hold it at bay was wearing thin.

Kira’s heart clenched when Elara’s question came, a pang of something sharp twisting in her chest. Her gaze stayed locked on Elara, drawn by those moonlit eyes that looked at her with guarded confusion. There was something soothing about them, a brief anchor against the storm raging inside, but the steady thrum of Elara’s pulse ruined it—taunting her, pulling her back to the edge.

Despite the decades spent burying emotions and mastering her mask, a crack formed. The faintest twitch of her lips, a furrow in her brow, and a flicker of sadness passed through her eyes before she could snuff it out. For a moment, Kira looked away, breaking the intensity of her gaze. The beast inside stirred, drawn to vulnerability, but Kira clenched her jaw and forced it down.

It was better this way, she told herself again. Better that Elara didn’t remember her. Safer. Cleaner. The person Elara had been to her—the beacon of warmth and light that had kept her afloat—didn’t need to know the ghost Kira had become.

She lifted her gaze again, her expression guarded once more, carefully neutral. “We’ve crossed paths before,” Kira said, steeling herself, her voice calm and carefully measured. She tilted her head slightly, as though she were recalling a trivial memory. “In the castle. A passing moment, really.” She shrugged, her voice nonchalant as if it were the most inconsequential thing in the world. The lie slid easily from her tongue, burning, but necessary. Safer—for both of them.

Before Elara could respond, Kira strategically attempted to shift the conversation, her tone softening just slightly. “Are you certain you don’t need help?” she asked, her words tinged with genuine concern despite her efforts to sound detached. She searched Elara’s eyes for the truth, though her heartbeat said enough. “I have healing herbs, or… do you need protection?”

Her eyes flicked briefly to the hand Elara still had braced against the doorframe. “The scene in the woods looked… grim. You’re not hurt, are you?”

She already knew the answer. The scent of blood clung to the air around Elara, but it wasn’t hers. Her own blood pulsed just beneath the skin—tempting but distant enough that Kira was able to hold herself back. If Elara had been hurt, Kira wouldn’t have been able to stay here.

Still, that didn’t mean Elara hadn’t been mentally shaken by witnessing such a harrowing scene. Kira had been trained to endure such horrors, but a handmaiden? She doubted Elara or the Princess were prepared for it.

As she waited for Elara to respond, the small silence allowed the sound of Elara’s pulse to overwhelm Kira’s senses once more. She could feel the beast stir beneath the surface, hungry, clawing for control, whispering sweet promises of relief, of release. Threatening to drag her under. Her own heartbeat skipped, and she was forced to steady her own breathing.

Just a little longer. Long enough to make sure Elara—and the Princess, she supposed—were safe. Then she would leave. Find someone more suited for this. She had to.

---

_{Interactions: Elara @Qia}

[Dezuel]

"Oh no.." Anora said and raised her free hand to her mouth in surprise to Aurora's revelation about her parents fate.

"My sincerest condolences, I didn't know of their passing. To lose one parent is tough, to lose both… I cannot imagine." The yellow clad noblewoman said in a solemn tone, as her eyes wandered to the pendant that Aurora was grasping.

"I knew your father a little, I bought empty potion bottles and some alchemical supplies from their place. He always seemed like such a proud man, well now seeing his daughter, I can understand it all better now.~ I shall mourn his passing and your mother, I know a bit how you feel. I lost my birthmother when I was very young, she had an illness that no healing could mend, I don't have any memories of her. The headmistress of the orphanage which I was taken to told me that she suspected the man which had left me there had been my father.

But I didn't grow up in the orphanage, I was adopted by the Raunefeldt family. Some might see me as abit of a spoiled lady, which I suppose is fair. As my foster parents were wealthy. Sadly however both my foster parents have passed away, I still have my two brothers in my life, for this I am thankful. They can be abit overbearing at times however. If Ayel does anything he shouldn't, let me know okay?~" Anora gave a soft upturn at the corner of her mouth, then nodded her head softly towards the pendant Aurora had.

"A precious item? I have something like that too.~" She changed hands which held unto her umbrella, displaying the golden ring on her finger, displaying the elemental signs of the four elements.

"A memento of my birth family. I think it may have belonged to my mother. The man who left me at the orphanage passed this ring along to the headmistress and she kept it in secret, handing it to me when I had gotten of age. Otherwise my foster mother may have thrown it away. She was very set on her way." Anora said and shook her head softly, she felt nostalgic and somewhat longing thinking back of the people she had lost in her life.

"I don't think you knew my birthmother, you seem to be around my age.~ She was known as Lady Malkin, or the less fair name 'The phantom', due to her pale skin. She seems to have dabbled in alchemy aswell. I sadly do not know her first name, I just know it starts with a 'C', as that is inscribed in the ring. Unless that is my father's name." She beamed up abit.

"I think he's still alive out there, somewhere. Maybe a chubby baker, a charming troubadeur or perhaps even a famous alchemist. Well, perhaps that is just wishful thinking as those are things I am interested in. I did receive a mysterious letter, that said, that what I am looking for would be found here in Dawnhaven. Well, I think there's some truth to that. Prince Flynn and my brother Ayel are both here after all, and together we may find a cure for the blight and bring back the sun again. Perhaps I'll meet more wonderful people like yourself here too, Lady Aurora. I would love if you would join me for some tea and pastries someday~." Anora tilted her head to the side, and smiled with her eyes momentarily closed.

[PrinceAlexus]

Lord and lady Coswain

The Moon Temple & Attack site

Adonis Coswain stalked forward away from the body and kept his guard up, the Paladins blade rare metal glittering in the light with faded gold gilding as darkness grew deeper on the side streets. He moved with purpose but carefully alert every sound as he advanced following the signs. There were marks in snow and signs of panic but that could be another running Civilian, or the party ..he had to just hope he chose the right path. Selene guide him, he needed to locate the Princess now… quickly.

A feeling prickled the back of his neck as he felt, he felt something but had no idea why he felt so doubled his alertness. Keeping the wide blade in a defensive posture, hunting alone went against all his training but he had no choice, no backup and Persephone would not be up to much for the rest of the day for the most likely, someone had To watch the body and younger guard was unsure if he was for for duty due to his mental effects of the attack.

“Lance Command. Dagmars Bane. Anyone out there” He resorted to an old call out, maybe it worked. Maybe it not, they would least respond. He had no real plan, Daphne had been at the inn and Hector was off enjoying some down time at the main camp as well as trading his skills for ale and coins.

“Call out” he said, unwilling to be surprised and accidentally attack a Civilian who was sneaking about or hiding. This was far from first time he had persuaded Blightborn thought ruined towns, a thing that crawled up walls on spider limbs and jumped over gaps, A Feral beast in a valley saving an over confident guardsman from self, and particularly challenging and almost lethal battle to himself matching blades alone with 4 sets of arms, multiple weapons and 3 eyes. That has been close as the blade of a razor as he chose to deflect, dodge or turn lesser strikes against his armour plates for several minutes. That fiend had stalked and killed for over a month till they came to take it down and cornered it in the empty streets of a former caravan stop that had not seen use in decades and hunted it inside its own lair but not without losses. It has been a rather crude method that won his survival, smashing it's head with a metal helmet till it stopped twitching.

His mind flashed back to Events it might find useful and none of those really helped bar remind him how dangerous the situation was. Selene protect me, this is fraked… I have to protect her. He thought as he hoped the Temple would protect his wife as guide him.

Pausing and closing his eyes for a short second he made a tiny prayer, he had no time for a formal such version. A soldier's prayer, and onwards.

Mentions
@c3p-0h@The Muse@Qia

[Dark Light]

@enmuni

Aliseth

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Eastern gate

---

He was a guard, a Royal Guard. One tasked with personally protecting the princess at that. Now she was missing, and the the blightborn was still out there somewhere. He had failed. Royally.
Had he his memories in tact he might of known where she would go but as it was he had no clue. It was perhaps a race against time of who could find her first. Not that he could do much without his weapons.

With heavy breaths coalescing in the cold air and the crunching of snow and ice beneath his long stride, Aliseth jog to his destination, all the whilst his eyes and ears focused on every dark shadow as he remain alert and on the lookout for signs of commotion. It took him a while to reach the eastern gate but he was nothing if not fit. Determination driving him on and his pace remaining steady the whole way.

The tall wooden structure loomed over him blocking out stars, brightly illuminated by torches. There were the obvious signs of people going about their business and from inside the town he could see the backs of watchmen looking out over the gate. Peering through the open portal he saw what had their attention as it stole his too. There on the path a disheveled woman, who looked like she had been sleeping in ditches, approached with her hands out in front of her. However none of that took his focus like the large figures shadowing her back. It took him a moment to realise what they were. Wings.
With the combination of those and the horns protruding from her head she looked like a monster from the tales told before there were actual monsters. A demon some would say.

She had spoken but the words were lost to him as he stare intently at her, not realising that his feet had continued to carry him forward putting him between her and the large wooden gate. It was not his job, not his duty nor his responsibility but some unrecognised swirl of emotions drew him forth. One hand still marred with the stains of blood hovered near an empty scabbard. His hazel eyes held a fierce gaze but despite his own personal opinions on the blightborn, Dawnhaven was a place they were welcome.

He fought to unclench his teeth and hide his emotions from his face as he steadily raise a hand. "Halt traveller! You have reached Dawnhaven. Declare your name and intentions." He bellow in a firm commanding voice. Torchlight glimmering on his worn Lunarian armor as he stood tall before her, a gentle breeze picking up from nowhere and running past him through the gates, rustling his disheveled dark hair as it pass.

[Dark Light]

@The Muse@enmuni

Valgo

---

Eastern gate

---

With a low snarling grunt, two huge sacks of grain were tossed from the high heights of the barbarians strong wide shoulders and thud down heavily onto the floor of the small narrow stable in the eastern gatehouse. Only one torch illuminate the room, although that was all that was needed. The room housed only one horse. A nimble powerful beast. Nothing like the blight beast Valgo had seen his own son astride, images of that dark creature still haunt his waking dreams, but this one here was a fine specimen none the less.
Well trained and always saddled, ready to ride out in a moments notice carrying what ever urgent alert it's rider had.

The small giant of a man went about his duties, cleaning the secured room and tending to the horse. Checking it's straps, refilling it's food and giving it some petting. Prior his arrival two guards would do the duties he now did alone. Donkey and cart were once used to haul the supplies that he now carried around the town. He didn't do it this way to show off or because it was quicker (which it was) but more because for him the conversation about getting a donkey was far more difficult than the hard heavy labor of lifting.

As he was finishing up his duties, he heard something that drew his attention. He tried to ignore it but like a blur in ones peripheral, he couldn't but help turn his attention to it. It being the whispering words of guards in the room above. It seemed a new person approached the gates and something about their appearance had the guards in a hushed debate. A knot formed in the large barbarians stomach. That familiar feeling of anticipated dread. That constant gnawing fear. was it time already? While the Barbarian tried to ignore most things that went on in this crazy little town, he could not ignore the presence of a new monstrous looking blight born, not without first examining them.

Quietly he left the small stable and closed the door behind him. Barring it as he was instructed to do. Then, as subtly as he could, he casually made his way to the corner wall and peer around it and down the road. Sure enough a guard he didn't recognise stood blocking half his vision, but he saw enough of the person beyond to know how the guards above could be certain this was a blight born. Not yet having enough detail he gently and slowly caught the wind and pull it his way, dragging any conversation between the two on the road directly to his ears too.

Silently, like a towering statue, he rest against the wall and listen.

[SpicyMeatball]

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* * *

_{Interacting with: @Dark Light @The Muse @Fetzen @Dezuel @Echotech71}

A sigil and a dagger from Lord Coswain, surely that would be convincing enough.

Some words of reassurance from the guard, words that were confident but did little to calm the nerves that were beginning to build inside.

And then silence.

Nothing but the cold winter wind and the gentle creaking of the trees as they swayed within it.

Suddenly Katherine felt very alone. Exposed. If the murderer wanted to strike again, he could do it from any angle and there would be no way to see it coming. Her eyes flicked around her surroundings as Aliseth finally disappeared from her sight. There was nothing, not even a stray raven or curious rabbit.

I hope you didn’t think I was truly gone, Inquisitor. You know what you have to do.

The words echoed in her head and sent a chill down her spine.

Fuck you.

Katherine choked on her breath as the invisible collar around her neck tightened viciously. She clawed at her neck as her throat tightened completely. The silence was almost deafening, now that not even her breathing interrupted it.

Ah ah ah. That’s not the proper way to address your superior, Sorrowind.

The collar loosened and Katherine gasped in the icy cold air, quenching the fiery pain raging in her lungs.

Consider it your first official order of this assignment. Interrogate the dead man. You must ensure the safety of our beloved Princess.

The last words echoed mockingly in her head as the sensation of her collar disappeared.

Alone once more.

Fine.

With a quick twirl, Katherine removed her fur cloak and laid it on the ground, kneeling down onto it before the faceless and body-less head. Her heart pounded in her chest, knowing damn-well what she was about to attempt just might get her arrested for real. It would certainly be one way to make one hell of a first impression. She stifled a nervous laugh, shaking her head.

The priestess bowed her head at the moon in the sky and put her hands together palm-to-palm. A very traditional position for prayer that she had not assumed in a very long time. Her hope was to provide every reason for her goddess to show mercy in the judgement Katherine knew was coming. Whether or not it would work was a completely different question.

Seluna, forgive me for what I am about to do. Know that I do this for the protection of others and not for my own gain. Know that once again, I do this against my will and against my better judgement.

Katherine’s deep brown eyes flicked open and she placed her hands firmly into the snow before her. With a single thought, a sickly green mist began to escape from beneath her palms. It was slow at first, barely visible in the moonlight. Her entire body screamed at her in protest of what she was attempting. Almost immediately, her muscles began to ache and her heart threatened to launch itself from her chest.

The green mist quickly became more prominent, forming into many thin columns that approached the faceless head before her and entering it from any and every orifice it could find.

She lifted her head and groaned as the pain progressively worsened, from aches to needles.

Why is this so much harder than before…

Willing herself to do better, the priestess closed her eyes and steeled her mind once more.

Come on… let me in… LET ME IN.

Katherine gritted her teeth, the combination of pain and the knowledge that she was still on a leash bringing out a newfound rage from inside. With a deep, shaky breath, she used this rage to fuel her magic just shy of her breaking point.

And in a moment, everything gave way. The vile green mist flooded the remains of the main—both body and head—causing it to subtly convulse.

Flashes of memories whipped before her eyes. Split-second images of what was presumably the moments leading up to this man’s death, barely visible and barely recognizable. Emotions ripped through her like a knife; Suspicion, then fear, then absolute terror. Then, a final image of an almost-unhinged jaw before pain shot through her head.

Katherine’s hands rushed up to clutch her head, falling to the side and writhing in pain. Her breath repeatedly caught in her throat, her mind barely able to focus enough to keep breathing while she relived the most powerful sensation of Sir Abel’s final moments.

M-my lady of s-silver have mercy… … … make it stop. Make the pain… stop.

The sickening sound of tearing flesh and a blood curdling scream overwhelmed every other sensation she’d felt up till this moment. No longer was it the silence that was deafening.

Laying in agony, Katherine reached a desperate hand out towards the faceless head.

With a single touch, the green mist of her necromancy tore itself from her subject and rushed back to her.

And then there was silence once more.

* * *

A few moments later, Katherine found her vision filled with a view of the night sky. Clouds floated by overhead and the snow gently fell, flakes melting against the exposed skin of her face. She could feel the cold ground underneath and slowly deduced that she was laying on her back. Her heart still pounded in her chest, her breaths still shaky, but the pain was gone. The screaming, the gut-wrenching tearing of flesh, gone. The silence of the forest had returned.

With trembling limbs, Katherine slowly maneuvered herself upwards. First, to all fours, where she stayed as her head spun and spots flew across her vision. It was also here that she noticed the sensation of fresh blood running from her nose, quickly changing from warm to cold in the winter air. Then, when the priestess finally felt relatively stable, she pushed herself to her feet and wrapped herself in the fur cloak.

Voices in the distance caught her attention. She was able to pick out at least a few distinct different people before she noticed the glow of torchlight coming down the path.

Fuck.

The priestess turned her back to the nearing group before raising a hand out towards the murder scene. Her entire body shook as she focused on a silent blessing, just enough to be visible to those approaching. The silvery symbol of Seluna gently appeared, hovering low above Sir Abel’s body just as she heard Flynn’s voice call out behind her.

Her heart raced once more and spots flew across her vision, panic filling her mind.

“L-lord Coswain and I… heard a scream. We got here and t-there was only a s-single guard that remained here.” Katherine tried her best to hide her shaky voice, a difficult task considering her entire body was trembling. Whether from cold, or from exhaustion, she had no idea.

“The lord and guard went off t-that way, I remained here to k-keep the scene untouched.” She pointed towards where the pair’s footsteps trailed off into the snow. “T-they went looking for… the princess, I b-believe.”

There was no lie that she could weave in the moment to explain her current state. She hoped it would either be overlooked, or just due to the cold. She was Lunarian, so the latter was a pretty slim hope to hold. Barring either of those, she was at the mercy of whatever wicked sense of humor the universe had. The darkness would only be on her side for as long as the newfound company stayed at a distance. In the torchlight, her now-pallid skin and generally unwell-looking appearance would be easy to spot. And that was assuming no one bothered to comment on the very evident crimson stain on her upper lip.

Looking across the group, she noted Ayel’s face, which only served to worsen her already shaky nerves.

I need to sell this more or he’ll have my head.

“T-this man here…he w-was gruesomely murdered. I’ve been trying to g-give him a proper blessing while I w-waited for the guards. I didn’t want to move the b-body for final rites until they were able to see it.”

[The Muse]

Location: Tavern / Eastern Gate

Zeph shifted uncomfortably at his post outside the tavern, the cold seeping into his bones and making his armor feel heavier with every passing second. Nearby, Abel and Aliseth stood watch with him, two soldiers he had grown close with over the past two months. Together, they had shoveled snow for hours to prepare for the Sun Prince’s grand feast. A feast, Zeph thought bitterly, he had worked tirelessly to help prepare but hadn’t been able to partake in.

Watching someone walk into the tavern, he glanced toward the frosted windows. From inside, the warm glow of lanterns spilled onto the snow, accompanied by the faint sounds of music and laughter. The scent of roasted meats and fresh-baked pastries wafted through the door every time it opened, teasing him mercilessly.

He sighed, his hazel eyes scanning the crowd that gathered outside once more. He was supposed to be watching for threats, but it was hard to focus when he was so hungry and cold. It was sick and twisted to make a man do all this manual labor without sustenance!

That’s when he noticed her—Princess Amaya. She stood out like a jewel amidst the chaos, her presence commanding attention without effort. Zeph’s gaze lingered on her for a few beats, partly out of admiration and partly because he remembered the orders drilled into every guard in Dawnhaven: the Prince and Princess’s safety was paramount. It wasn’t his direct duty to shadow their every step, but every guard here was responsible for their safety. It was up to them to keep the two safe in this town that crawled with threats around every corner—even if it was the Prince’s fault that the town was dangerous in and of itself.

Not that Zeph believed the Princess needed his protection at that moment. She seemed perfectly at ease among the townsfolk. Still, keeping an eye on her was part of the job, and if that meant admiring a beautiful woman for a few minutes, well, who was he to complain?

Then his stomach growled, a low and pitiful sound, pulling him back to his immediate problem.

His eyes instinctively flicked toward the tavern, then back to his brothers, who remained oblivious to his inner debate. Both stood rigid, their eyes scanning the perimeter like true professionals. They had things handled. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to step inside—just for a moment. Just a few minutes, he told himself. He could step inside, grab something to eat, and be back before anyone even noticed.

With one last glance at the Princess to assure himself she was fine, Zeph shifted from his place by the door and slipped through the tavern door.

The warmth inside hit him with a welcoming embrace, chasing away the chill from his skin as he removed his helmet. The air was alive with laughter, music, and the rich aroma of freshly baked pastries. He paused for a moment, his eyes catching on the bard playing music at the front of the tavern—a blight-born, clearly, though the crowd didn’t seem to mind.

Zeph’s attention, however, was quickly stolen by a nearby table laden with food. He made a beeline for it, elated as a waitress offered him a cookie. He accepted it with a grin, biting into the soft, warm treat. Bliss.

He hadn’t meant to lose track of time. One pastry turned into two, then three. He lingered there for some time, enjoying the music and the warmth, the tension in his shoulders easing for the first time all day. By the time he remembered where he was supposed to be, the bard had stopped playing his tunes and the chatter of the patrons grew to replace the noise.

“Fuck.” he cursed under his breath, shoving the last bite of a pastry into his mouth and hastily brushing crumbs from his hands. Panic flickered in his chest as he put his helmet back on, slipping back outside.

But when he returned to his post, Abel and Aliseth were gone—and so was Princess Amaya.

For a moment, he stood there in silence, the snow crunching under his boots as he scanned the area for their whereabouts. He’d been gone for what—ten minutes? Maybe twenty? It couldn’t have been longer than that.

Great. Now he would have no one to talk with while he stood here another hour longer.

He sighed, resuming his position. The Princess likely requested their assistance for something—the royals tended to be so needy. And Abel would give him hell for this later, he was sure of it.

“Hale.”

Zeph met eyes with another guard, Captain Varick—his superior, who narrowed angry dark brown eyes at him.

“Gate duty. Now.” Varick commanded, glaring daggers. Apparently Zeph had not gone unnoticed.

---

The eastern gate stood eerily quiet, blanketed in snow and shadows, with the wind whistling through the gaps in the wood and stone. Zeph exhaled slowly, watching his breath cloud and dissipate in the frigid night air. Gate duty. Of all the assignments he could have tonight, this was one he dreaded most. Long hours of staring into the dark, counting snowflakes as they fell in an endless spiral. He’d been at it for two hours now, and his stomach was already protesting, the pastries he’d snagged earlier had only been a temporary reprieve. If only he hadn’t gotten caught sneaking off at the tavern, he might have been warming up with a bowl of stew right now instead of freezing his ass off.

He sighed and glanced up at the moon, its pale light making the snow shimmer like a sea of tiny diamonds. Beautiful, sure, but it didn’t make him hate gate duty any less.

The crunch of snow pulled his attention, his hand instinctively dropping to the hilt of his sword. At first, there was nothing but the faint sound of the wind whistling through the trees. Then it came—a voice, soft and barely audible, carried on the wind.

His grip on the sword tightened as the figure came into view—a humanoid silhouette with broad, bat-like wings behind them. A doubled set of glowing eyes, cutting through the dark like lavender embers.

Blight-born.

He had seen plenty of them in Dawnhaven, and had fought more than a few in the past, too. They always set him on edge, no matter how harmless some claimed to be. This one was no exception.

“State your—” Zeph began, his voice steady, but before he could finish, a sharper, more authoritative voice rang out from behind him.

"Halt traveller! You have reached Dawnhaven. Declare your name and intentions."

Zeph glanced over his shoulder to see the source of the interruption. Aliseth, stepping forward from the shadows of the gatehouse. Zeph arched a brow, a flicker of surprise crossing his eyes. For a moment, he wondered what had brought Aliseth to the gate. Was he here on orders too? Or did he want to talk about the Princess, perhaps? Zeph nearly smirked. It would be just like Aliseth to have some interesting tidbit to share about the mysterious ice Princess—hopefully something that would be juicy enough to brighten an otherwise dull night.

He couldn’t help but notice the tension in his friend's jaw, though, and the way his hand hovered above an empty scabbard. Where was his sword? Why had he come to the gate without one? Was that… blood? There was something off.

Zeph furrowed his brow in confusion, but didn’t speak up—not in front of the blight-born. He’d have to ask once they weren’t staring down a creature at the gate.

Zeph returned his focus to her, letting her appearance sink in. Her haggard appearance was hard to ignore—clothing patched and frayed, her figure hunched slightly as if weighed down by exhaustion. How long had she been living in the wilds? If he didn't know any better, he'd think her a damsel in distress.

“Well?” Zeph said, breaking the silence. His voice was casual, almost conversational. “You heard him. Name and intentions. We don’t bite—” he glanced sidelong at Aliseth, smirking faintly, “—unless, of course, you give us a reason to.”

---

_{Interactions: Aliseth @Dark Light, Nesna @enmuni}

[Qia]

_{Interactions:@PrinceAlexus Sya}

---

Orion walked beside Sya, his boots crunching softly against the snow as he kept pace with her deliberate, swaying movements. Her tail left distinct marks in the powdery white behind them, standing out against the clear, defined traces of his shoes. Though her balance occasionally wavered, she carried herself with a surprising ease, her hand firmly clutching his arm. While she typically remained quiet,the blightborn man caught glimpses of changes in her face, hinting at the complex thoughts she was managing within.

As Sya finally spoke up, her playful comments turning towards the Prince, Orion felt a familiar smirk return to his face at her amusing twist on the name “onion-Orion.” Just as he prepared to interject with a witty reply, she suddenly tugged him toward the door, her tail flicking with a casual grace that left him captivated by her fluidity. Her playful jests about honor and cuddles elicited a deep, quiet chuckle from him, a sound that rumbled pleasantly within his chest, marking one of those rare moments of genuine amusement.

With a teasing glint in his eyes, he quipped, “I guess Kira and I will have to draw straws to see who gets to enjoy your company first, that’s all.”

Inside the post office, Sya radiated a vibrant confidence, her voice ringing out through the hushed area as she made her request. Orion lounged casually against the counter, his strong figure dominating the small space, yet his face remained calm and relaxed. He observed her as she carefully crafted the letter, impressed by the determination evident in her movements, especially considering her earlier tipsiness. When she completed her task and spun around, she extended her arm with the elegance of a noblewoman inviting a partner to dance. He raised an eyebrow in surprise but accepted her arm with ease.

“Lead the way, Lady Sya,” he replied, his voice playful yet filled with deference. They stepped out of the post office, Orion keeping pace with Sya and offering support as she adjusted to the cool freshness of the outdoor air. The crispness seemed to reenergize her, yet her slightly wobbly movements and the quick flick of her tail revealed that she had indulged a bit too much. Delicate snowflakes landed on her dark blue scales, sparkling gently in the warm glow of the nearby lanterns, creating a magical scene around them.

While they strolled toward the Eye of the Beholder, Orion’s thoughts drifted back to the earlier moment at the springs. Kira’s sudden exit lingered in his mind, and although he understood her need for solitude, he found himself curious about Sya’s perspective on the matter. Sya, to him thus far, seemed to have a unique ability to sense others' feelings and motivations, even if her style of observation was a bit… unusual.

Besides, given her state, Orion imagined she was not likely to hold back any honest thought.

“Lady Sya,” he started, his rich voice breaking through the quiet sound of snow crunching under their boots. “What are your thoughts on Kira? She didn’t linger for long back there.” He looked down at her, his bright red eyes sparkling with interest. “She gives off the vibe of someone who hides her true feelings, but you seem to have a knack for understanding others.” He stopped for a moment, a playful grin forming at the edge of his lips.

“And, naturally, I’m just an Onion, so what insight could I possibly have?”

[Qia]

_{Interactions/Mentions: @c3p-0h Amaya, @The Muse Kira}

---

Elara clenched the doorframe more firmly, feeling the woman’s words envelop her like a soft, yet heavy blanket. “We’ve met before.” This declaration lingered in the chilly atmosphere around them, seemingly harmless but sown deep with an underlying current of mystery that stirred something within the handmaiden. As she gazed into Kira’s bright, orange eyes, a tension coiled tightly in her chest, intensifying as she struggled to connect the stranger’s vivid features to the faint echo of a long-buried memory.

Suddenly, this memory sprang to life in her mind, uninvited yet vivid. Though it was blurred and faded by the passage of time, the warmth it brought was unmistakable. She envisioned a tiny, pale hand—her own—stretching out to grasp another. This second hand was rough, trembling slightly, and dusted with freckles; its hold was tentative but fiercely intent. “Everything will be okay,” she had murmured, her voice calm even as doubt gnawed at her insides.

The fleeting moment felt like a ray of sunshine piercing through dark, stormy skies, only to be obscured once more. As Elara blinked, her mind returned to the present, focusing on the woman in front of her. Could this person possibly be the same? The sharp angles of her face, the intense, fiery eyes, and the tautness of her body didn’t resemble the frightened girl from her past. Yet, there was a deep-seated sorrow in Kira’s gaze that struck a chord with her, reminiscent of a long-forgotten melody that tugged at her heartstrings.

Elara shook her head as if to erase the thought, hoping to brush away the notion that their connection was anything but chance. After all, how many lives had intersected with hers during her time in the palace? Memories could easily fade, and it was common to impose significance where perhaps none existed. The striking similarity was probably just that—a simple likeness. The woman standing in front of her appeared too fierce, too deeply emotional, to be the same person she'd once comforted with soft words so many years ago.

Despite her efforts to push the thoughts away, uncertainty hung around her like one of her shadows, nibbling at the corners of her refusal. Her eyes darted momentarily to Kira's lips, where a slight quiver was visible, before returning to those compelling eyes that held a world of emotions. Elara noticed the delicate fractures in Kira's facade, the tiny spark of melancholy that flickered behind her strong exterior—though the reasons behind these feelings eluded her grasp. As the pressure in her chest intensified, she took a deep breath and willed herself to break the silence.

“I see,” Elara said carefully, her voice measured, as though testing the weight of her own words. “The Princess and I are safe. That is all that matters right now.” She held Kira’s piercing orange gaze a second longer, looking for any hint of her intentions. As she shifted her weight, moving slightly more into the doorway, she established a silent barrier between the stranger and the comforting warmth of the cottage behind her. This instinct to protect felt as instinctive as breathing itself, especially with Amaya so defenseless inside. Yet, if Kira genuinely wanted to help, perhaps there was a way to utilize her presence without fully welcoming her into her home.

“If your offer to help is heartfelt,” Elara began, her voice soft but laced with cautious diplomacy, “maybe you could relay a message to Prince Flynn. Please inform him of where we are and how the Princess is doing. Let him know she is on the mend but will require time and rest to fully recover.” The words felt heavy on her tongue, and she couldn’t suppress the faint tension in her jaw as she said his name. Though Flynn had every right to know, Elara still felt an inexplicable discomfort entrusting him with too much. Or at all.

“If you are sincere, then that would be the most immediate assistance you could provide.” The statement carried an edge of finality, a polite dismissal wrapped in the guise of practicality.

[enmuni]

---

The Eastern Gates of Dawnhaven
_{Interacting with @Dark Light’s Aliseth & @The Muse’s Zephyros}

---

Nesna froze for a moment as it seemed two separate guards yelled over one another, as if there had been no coordination whatsoever. She tried to hide her confusion until the less intense of the two repeated what they both had said—or rather, attempted to say. Quickly, Nesna cleared her throat and unclamped her cloak so as to make her following movements more apparent. Moving into a full curtsy, Nesna spoke. As she did so, she attempted to keep her mouth from opening too wide and showing any amount of her teeth. Her tone was flat and steady, though not in such a way as to imply that she was particularly calm so much as she was speaking in a well-rehearsed manner, well-accustomed to potentially less-than-friendly questionings.

“Yes, of course. My apologies for the delay in my resp—”

Nesna interrupted herself to steady her stance, having been quickly reminded that she had not entered such a pose since before she had transformed. Backtracking into a smaller, more polite curtsy, Nesna continued with her head sympathetically tilted and a melancholic little smile on her lips, “Please call me Nesna. I have come here from the east of Lunaris so that I may, in some manner, contribute to this haven.”

Fully rising from her curtsy and returning her gloved hands to be clearly in front of her and unarmed, Nesna then added, “I grant you that I may not seem as if I might be of much use at all here, and I fully appreciate your apprehension upon seeing me. If there was anything that could be done about this nonsense you see before you, I assure you that I would have done so already. But alas, this is my lot in life, and I only ask that you grant me the privilege of making the best of it. I am no sage, but I am eager to continue learning magic. Having done my best to continue to learn despite this affliction, I intend to do so here as well. Be it work as a scribe or a maid that you ask of me, I wish only that I be afforded sanctuary here and allowed to contribute as best as I am able. That is to say, my intentions are to find sanctuary in Dawnhaven and be of whatever use can be found for me.”

As she spoke, her attempt at a smile faded, leaving only the melancholic position of her eyes behind. With no pupils or irises—only four pools of softly-glowing lavender—it was difficult to tell what, if anything, she might have been looking at. For her part, Nesna had made an effort in spite of this to avert her eyes from the guards and confine them to the ground near to them, presuming that there might be some other cue they could draw from if so inclined to gather where her line of sight was directed.

[PrinceAlexus]

Syraeia Leela “Sy-a” Inn Keeper

Dawn Haven _ Town Square edge

Escorting the Snakeness to her tower lair and ADHD adventures.

Now with 50% more blood alcohol content.
Sloshed snakes can slither too

Sya let herself be escorted away from the post Office where things got busier reaching the centre of the town, a few looked at the pair in surprise but most had got well used to Blightborn who called the town home. Maybe it was the blightborn being escorted by Orion like a lady of a noble house as they walked to the eye of the Beholder.

She giggled at the comment about having to draw straws to share time with her, that certainly would be a rather strange and fun turn of events to have such desire for her affections. “A snakness In her tower as a noble Knight and a dark and mysterious woman cloaked and hooded both desire her hand.” Sya said oh so dramatically though the mirth and humour ever present on her features, something Sya could never easily hide. “Where's the dragon? My tower needs a dragon.” Sya asked with a look and a fresh giggle and mirthful flick of her ever present tail.

They moved through, Sya felt snow rest on the previously mentioned serpentine limb and glanced over her shoulder to see how deep blue and snow combined into a glittery star light effect. It really was quite beautiful. “M'Lord Onion, how kind of you to escort me to thy lair” Sya said with evident tone of flirtation and a flash of the woman who cuddled in front a cottage, drawing on her partner's lap and playfully exchanged kisses at sunset after hard afternoons work.

They made their way quietly in an companaible mood, Sya felt comfortable as they walked, slithered in her case across the town and it did not feel forced. Sya would definitely consider Orion a friend after this, he did not have to escort her home or play alone with her broken nature but he did and he seemed at ease with her. If life was not so crazy, the snow, the eternal night and being both considered monsters by many, it would all be rather romantic.

She pulled him softly to a halt with a small tug on his arm from her small frame, she looked at him with a thought of concentration and unable to match complex thought and movement at same time due to her sheer inhibitions by alcohol. Sya looked steady but she was fully and definitely not sober. People sometimes thought Sya was just the woman who served ales and stew but she was a very attentive host, intelligent and was a woman who rarely missed events about her. The gossip she got was pretty juice too, she, Vala, Becky and so where rather well informed.

“Mookay” Sya said as she garbled words, definitely drunk but she would give him her understanding. “So… Kira, for a kiss from a handsome prince Onion” She giggled, swayed and steadied herself as they were on the edge of the town square watching the gathering people about fires for warmth. “Kira, I was too much… she not used to people's kindness, she a egg, but the egg must be cooked slowly to ssssoften the sasshell” Sya said with a drunken honesty and no thong held back. “She had to be a lone egg, to make her shell hard to protect her Yolk from bad spoons, she needs time to heal her yolk” Sya said without thinking too hard running on her intuitive thoughts.

“She needs time, space to heal, it's scary for her.it was for me when i first came here.” She said caringly and with a look she paused and reached to hold Orion's other hand to get his full attention sliding her small fingers into his larger grip and looked at him with that strangely blue eye of hers, that seemed to see through into people rather than just at them when she tried.

“Orion, we all had to heal.” She ruined her flow with a hic and a giggle but carried on regardless. “I never was alone, I always had a box, a partner, 10 summers, a family, so my egg fitted better, my … was the loneliest time of my life, I lost everything, my heart arched, my feet hurt, I was a monster in a gutter.. under a stolen ruin. I do not know how long Kira spent under such spoons, But her shell and yolk will heal at her pace, like your rather handsome shell and kind yolk.” Sya said with all the quirks of Sya but no shame, Sya was Sya deep to her Yolk.

Her look turned almost to scan Orion and squeezed his hand a little. “You. Curious.” Sya said softly with a gentle hiss and mulled her words. “You seem like me. In a way, something hurt us, we trying to find our place, Your Your yolk…is blurred… I cannot read it… Yet anyway. Give me more time to peel your onion layers.” Sya said like it was entirely normal thing and swayed naturally, cheeky and poking his foot with a gentle tail nudge.

Sya was overly bold, she had the desire to thank him, but she did not know how, Sya brain demanded she thank him and her impulse control right now was… badly compromised to say the least. Sya mind ran through a few interesting areas and least one that ended up in her tower and ripping his shirt off with tail. That would not end well.

She leaned up shakily and kissed his cheek, closing her big blue eye and wrapping her tail partly about his legs as a form of balance. She gave him a cute blush and so and backed down with a little smirk of mischief spotting the lipstick mark she left that she tried to hide.

Her new found status and confidence she had started to wear makeup again, dress nicely and be more proactively confident again.

She was reluctant to let go, Sya dropped her tail back behind her but her fingers lingered, she had joyed and found the little human touch addictive, it had been a thing she never realised how much she had valued until she lost it.

would it be soooo bad to not let go.. Syas little thought ran through her brain's quiet corner was having its own whole internal debate.

“Not sorry” She said with a very Sya moment though her body implied there was a lot more going on in the Lamias brain.

Mentions
@Qia

[c3p-0h]

---

_{Location: Outside the Tavern}

---

---

After a week of being cooped inside, Elio Azkona had grown painfully, deliriously, bored. He intended to make this all of Dawnhaven’s problem. He was starting off slow, though. Measured. Moderated. The woman he currently had pinned against a tree wasn’t even married.

They were hidden in darkness, but for the light of the moon filtering through the pines that towered above them. Muffled sounds echoed from around the tree – the rowdiness of the tavern, the chattering voices of half the town gathered for some asinine celebration. Though his immediate instinct had been to buck at the summons that’d been placed on his door this morning, Elio had still been drawn towards the promise of people – of action.

He had his hand cupped around the back of the woman’s head, his fingers tangling her hair. His other hand had slipped into her coat, her buttons long undone. His arm curled around her waist, his hand flat against her back with only the thin fabric of her dress separating them. She clung to him as they kissed, her hands clawing at his back through his shirt. Elio hadn’t bothered with a coat – his blood had always run a little hotter than the average Lunarian’s. His hand in her hair tightened to a fist and he pulled down, forcing her to lift her chin. He drank in all her little sounds as he moved from her lips and down her neck.

This wasn’t the first time they’d done this. No, Elio and this particular little morsel were getting familiar enough that he knew exactly when she was going to gasp and what it would sound like when he flexed his arm, pulling her tighter against him. He still couldn’t remember her name, though. Elio doubted she knew his – he hoped she didn’t know his. If she could still focus enough to remember his name, then he wasn’t doing a good enough job. But of course, maybe this was a losing battle – Elio was a difficult man to forget.

She was getting a bit attached, though. When they’d spotted each other from across the tavern, she’d lit up like she’d been searching for him. He’d met her smile with a wicked grin of his own, watching the way the firelight spun gold through her auburn hair. She’d slipped through the crowd towards the backdoor, and Elio had taken a swig of his drink. But he stayed where he was sat. He watched the crowd. This would likely have to be the last time with her, he decided. Disappointing.

He’d just have to make sure it was worth his while.

When Elio finally exited the tavern’s backdoor, he found her shivering in the snow, pert little nose red and her arms wrapped around herself. He’d barely looked at her as he’d wrapped a large hand around hers and tugged her towards the treeline. And when he’d spun abruptly to press her into the hard bark of the nearest pinetree, she’d gasped and giggled, and melted into him like he was a furnace.

All in all, not a bad way to reenter society.

That is, of course, until they heard the tavern door opening again.

They froze and Elio’s hand slipped out of her hair to cover her mouth. He locked eyes with the nameless woman, the energy between them buzzing like electricity. Her eyes were wide – but then he saw them start to crinkle with mischief. Elio’s lips lifted in a smirk. They stood frozen against each other as whoever had opened the door moved through the snow.

"Why are you here, Nyla?" Elio knew that voice – that irritating voice that belonged to the one person in town who had any real authority over him. Annoyance shot through him reflexively. Maybe they should continue their rendezvous, if only to give the little prick a show.

But something gave Elio pause – he didn’t just know that voice. He knew that tone. He’d heard it enough times from the lips of women, frantic to get him out the door when their husbands came home. Suddenly, Elio wanted nothing more than for the Prince to keep talking.

“I’m sorry, Flynn. I know I shouldn’t be...” Flynn. She called him by his name. She had an enchanting voice, smooth and expressive like velvet – Elio wanted nothing more than to look around the tree that hid them to see this woman who’d managed to make Astaros so panicked. Because whoever she was, she most definitely wasn’t his wife.

Elio’s eyebrow quirked up as he listened. The woman he held was breathing hard, her chest moving against him. Elio pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. Slowly, he brought his hand from her lower back up, up, up, to grip around the nape of her neck. The coat strained against them, the added mass of his arm making the fabric tight. His other hand slipped away from her mouth, to trail down the line of her waist. He wondered what it would take to get her to make a sound loud enough for the other couple to hear.

“But, I… We… We can’t—”

Elio wanted to laugh. Yes, he knew that tone, too. He pressed a line of soft kisses down the woman’s face – her temple, her cheek, her jaw. By the time he was back at her neck, the little royal melodrama seemed to be winding down. Elio bit down at the woman’s pulse point, smothering her sharp gasp with his hand returning to her mouth. He smiled into her skin.

“...Each blight-born undergoes an interview..." Blight-born? Well well well… wasn’t that interesting.

It wasn’t long before he heard Astaros’ morose trudging through the snow. Then the door opened, and closed, and the show was truly over.

Elio pulled away from the woman’s kneck. He finally let out a low, rumbling laugh as he looked up to the moon shining through the trees, silver and full. This really was too good. The moon seemed brighter, suddenly. The chill that bit at his cheeks was teasing, rather than scolding. And the untouchable Golden Prince had some dirt on him after all. Turning his attention back to the woman, Elio cupped her face in both hands, a thumb moving over the crest of her cheek.

“Oh, you beautiful thing,” he murmured. She looked back up at him, pupils blown wide and a tempting smile curling her lips. Elio captured her mouth in a kiss like he meant to consume her.

---

_{Mentions: Flynn Astaros and Nyla Zafira @The Muse}

[Dark Light]

@enmuni@The Muse

Aliseth

---

Eastern gate

---

If Aliseth was startled by the sudden voice of the second guards, he did well to hide it. Keeping his focus on the blightborn ahead, eyes glued to those four glowing slits of lavender in her face. Unlike anything he had ever seen before. How she could see or what the world looked like through them he couldn't even fathom. He remain still and silent, listening as she talk, his face giving nothing away.

Without taking his eyes off her he side step towards Zeph and twist his torso back to the gate house where he held out a hand. "Torch!"
He command, letting his voice and armor carry his authority. As he wait for a runner to comply he whisper softly to his fellow guard. No hint of familiar recognition in his serious voice.

"There has been a... " He pauses to find the right word to describe the situation "an incident." He finally decides, punctuating the word with an emotional exhale as he turns his head to his brother noting the glowing light of the torch bearer approaching.

"Blight-born attack. The princess is missing. The other. My par. It killed him. We need to get control of the situation and inform the others. This one." He turn his head back to the haunting presence of the newcomer.
"This one will just have to wait. I have a few more questions anyway. The timing... He lets his thoughts trail off as he takes the torch from the runner who delivers it with a nod and then quickly turns to return to his post.

Walking towards the woman, Aliseth takes steady slow steps. "So Nesna is it. Sorry to say but your timing is terrible. You are right to assume Dawnhaven offers shelter and opportunity for all that obey its laws, but before you can enter I am going to need to ask you a few more questions. Do you mind following me out of this cold?"

His voice remain level but strong. The question wasn't really a question. He walked up beside her keeping some distance as he held the torch up, bathing her in its light as his eyes scrutinised her entirety. "This way." He gestured past the other guard in a direction towards a door in the gatehouse.