The far-gone, undead fiend at the far end burned away exceedingly quickly, almost fast enough to mercifully seem as if it had never been, and it left only a smattering of cinders behind. As much as her instincts screamed for her to flee from this foul den of necromancy as soon as possible, Harper knew that since she held responsibility over the other young ladies, she would be the last to move out once again. Ashlyn's rather useless declaration that she had a bad feeling about the whole situation earned her a somewhat sarcastic look of surprise from Harper, but the sight of Thor giving food to the other, less-afflicted undead took the edge off her mood. Crossing her arms, she waited for Thor and Ashlyn to return to the surface, either by magic or by the ladder, before climbing after them herself.
A fresh breeze and a faceful of sunlight would have gone a long way toward shaking off the grim feeling that now cascaded upon the group, but with a storm brewing the dark skies and ominous winds brought little comfort. Wordless, Harper took the initiative to lead the three girls out of the deathly copse and back toward the camp.
The soldiers of Frenzy Plant rounded the back side of a derelict building to cross the narrow ledge by which they arrived only to find someone in the process of crossing it. At first, the ninja was merely surprised, and took no further action since the new arrival didn't seem to have noticed her yet. Only a few seconds passed, however, before that surprise turned to disgust laced with horror. In the sickly light characteristic of a cloud-choked sky, the newcomer -a morbidly obese woman dressed in what looked like an enormous vegetable sack- seemed to have especially pale skin, and prominent, black veins. This realization came just as the bloated villager became aware of Harper's presence, and instantly a scowl darkened her flabby face. “More outsiders,” she growled in a guttural, gargling voice that nobody in their right mind would think could come from a human. “Sorry, my pretties; you ain't gonna be gettin' outta this place
alive.” As she said this, a white luminescence began to shine from her eyes. It was a disturbing, ethereal glow that grew much brighter in less than a second. The woman's mouth opened unnaturally wide and out of it spewed a blast of noxious gas that instantly blew across the ladies of Frenzy Plant.
Harper's eyes widened. At first she, a ninja for whom poisons and smoke bombs were par for the course, expected the gas to be some sort of toxin, but it wasn't her body that felt the effects—it was her mind. An awful feeling washed over her: the feelings of never being warm again, or happy again. When she closed her eyes she could see an unknown symbol, twisted and angular, and from it radiated the urge to give up and embrace death. No doubt the others would be experiencing the same. Unbeknownst to her, the malignant fog had etched an accursed rune in her mind. She felt no bodily pain, but the agony tormenting her soul threatened to overwhelm her. Through it all, though, she felt something else. It was a burning sensation, not pleasant but not horrible, coming from the sigil of Frenzy Plant on the back of her neck. This feeling galvanized her to act, as it would for the others, and not a moment too soon.
Like some ape out of a nightmarish, the obese woman had thrown herself in the air, flipping once as she did, and now careened down to attack. Her enormous arms, with the weight of both her body and gravity behind them, threatened to crush the heads of Thor and Ashlyn like melons if they did not heed the impetus of the warrior guild's enchanted mark.
Mercury, in the midst of cleaning off his kamas, watched Gabriel's interaction with his spirits intently. Styling himself as having no magic of his own, the B-ranked warrior always maintained a certain level of intrigue for magic. He saw it as a sort of novelty, and like many novelties, new magics caught his attention easily. When asked if he was hurt, he smirked and shook his head. Oversized bugs were exactly the kind of dime-a-dozen beastie that Frenzy Plant soldiers went out to slay when no proper work was available. Such work both helped to keep ordinary people safe and the skills of the guild's finest sharp. In the scuffle with the spiders, he hadn't taken a single wound. Of course, the others had taken very little if any as well. As scary as they might be, big spiders did not make for formidable combatants. They had to get so close to bite, their defense was so terrible, and their tactics (or lack thereof) were so poor, that they might as well beg for death.
Enma's suggestion of climbing caused Mercury to take a critical look around. As best he could describe it, the grotto was in the rough shape of an onion, or a bun, and the whole through which the trio had fallen lay at the very top. To climb back out, the soldiers would have to not only scale increasingly-sloped walls, but hang from the ceiling, and then reach the vertical tunnel through which to make their escape. Then again, going down did not seem like a good option either.
”Hum. Hey, Enma. Maybe you can open up a tunnel or somethin' with your vibratin' magic?”The voice of Damian, though not exactly threatening or stunning, startled the vigilant man seated by Willard's grave. He jumped slightly before looking sheepishly at the members of Phoenix Wing and Frenzy Plant. If the two looked closely, they could see that beneath the minor embarrassment lay something else. The visitor's eyes appeared half closed, as if he had just woken up from a deep nap. In fact, one eyelid was slightly lower than the other. His brown eyes were oddly pale, and his veins a strange grayish color. Until now, the soldiers of Frenzy Plant hadn't been close enough to a resident of Belka to see firsthand generally poor health of the townsfolk. Still, this man's appearance and bearing struck Ni as especially quaint, and the poor light thanks to the worsening weather certainly didn't flatter him.
Still, he obligingly began to move himself out of the way so that he wouldn't get in the way. While doing this, he accidentally bumped Eliza, and hurriedly mumbled an apology. “Ah...I'm sorry about that...I lost my glasses, you see...can't see much...without 'em.” He blinked several times as if to prove his sightlessness. Ni, staring at his face in curiosity, squinted with her brows furrowed. There was something on his eyelids, too intricate to be a smear of dirt, but she couldn't tell what it was. Instead, she watched as the man seated himself on a rock, his arms hanging limply by his sides. “You don't mind...if I stay here a while, do you? My head hurts...” The childish complaint trailed off, and he stared at the sky. Off in the distance, there came a flash of lightning. Most eyes would turn to glance at it, but any still on the grave's visitor would see in the bluish illumination that his face was deathly pale...and that what looked like an old villager's wrinkled were actually burn marks on a young face.
The sound of thunder echoed across the landscape. Behind it followed the sounds of crows in flight, cawing uproariously. In less than half an hour, the storm would be here.
The small troupe of Frenzy Plant soldiers perused the marketplace, looking for anything out of the ordinary. An overwhelming amount of red herring awaited them. In a remote town like Belka, there existence so many unique quirks and customs that to an outsider, everything might look crazy or suspicious. Despite their differences and their varying degrees of regard for their comrades and Belka's citizens, Riona, Ike, Argus, and Bytan handled things as professionally as they could. After about twenty minutes, they discovered a being part ghost and part animal that Ike and Bytan could instantly identify as one of Gabriel's celestial spirits and a clue to his whereabouts: Bear. Bytan signaled the others in case they didn't see, and led them as they approached the spirit.
Before they drew close, however, Bytan's practiced senses picked up the sound of someone running. He turned to see a scrawny, bushy-haired man in a dirty cleric's robe sprinting toward them, clearly in some sort of distress. The soldier frowned but turned to face him. As he drew closer, the stranger could be clearly seen to be hurt, afraid, and flushed from either exertion, drink, or both. His robe, undone in the front, revealed a bruise on his chest. Bytan recognized him easily as Lyric, the fight-picking, booze-addled 'bouncer' of the chapel near the graveyard. This revelation caused a frighteningly severe frown to appear on his face.
”You again.” the old man said to the haggard local.
”If you're looking for round two, you're an even bigger moron than I thought.”The man wheezed before replying, “No sir! I'm sorry sir! It's just...haaaah...it's just, there's a problem at the chapel, not long after you left! I was lickin' my 'urts over in the...well, away from the chapel, and I sees these weird, sick-looking folks walkin' toward the place. After a sec I go after 'em, but they get inside, and I 'ear these 'orrid screams...whoever they was, they's killin' the clerics!” A gruff, despairing sob escaped him. It was evident of true terror. “I ain't much of a man...I dunno what to do. I 'eard you talkin' 'bout some sorta evil in this town. If it's 'ere, then that's it, plainer than the nose on my face.”
Bytan appeared conflicted. He could tell that Lyric, scoundrel though he was, wasn't lying. The chance to take decisive action lay before him, but he could not stomach the idea of leaving his ally behind. His old mind raced to formulate a solution as a leader, and he stroked his whiskers out of habit despite knowing that now was a terribly time to try and appear sagacious.
”I see. Ike, continue to Gabriel's Bear and find out from it where our friends are. Riona, get back to camp on the double and ask General Sanders to get everyone up in arms. Then make for the chapel. Argus, the two of us are going there now. My guts tell me that the storm is just about to hit, and when it does, everything's going to go to hell. Let's move!”
