Achronum

The Gifted - Concluded

James Kingston

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Location: The Mutant Underground
Skills: N/A

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James nearly considered not getting up when he felt himself stir that morning. Yesterday had been… an experience. Attacks from every side, a failed mission, and the amount of injuries all around had James seriously wondering how anyone was still fucking breathing in this place. In less than a week, he’d disappeared from his old life, made friends with a guy who pulled off magic tricks, helped someone out of a burning building because of said magic trick guy, got a date, had to piece said date and said date’s brother back together, and had to get a bunch of fucking children back on their feet because some shit heads decided to have a grand time blowing up buildings. And that wasn’t even everything. Erg’s dead, Max is a murderer and single handedly responsible for turning every mutant into public enemy number 1, and he had a massive caffeine headache on top of everything else. At least one of those things could be handled. The rest of it?

Who the fuck knew.

So James forced himself up and through his stretching routine that morning despite wanting to do anything but that. He definitely felt better but he could tell his smile was a little stiffer than normal but hey, a smile’s a smile. Fake it ‘til you make it and all that jazz. His first stop was coffee which he got set up while Veil spoke. He didn’t have any reason to leave or stay. He was kinda just in the wind but this whole Hounds thing sounded horrible and if he could help somehow, he kinda felt obligated to do so. He almost spoke up but Casper and Jack caught his eye. Casper seemed a little frazzled and Jack concerned. He didn’t know if it had anything to do with how he found the pair last night but he thought it couldn’t hurt to at least check in and if it was something else that he had no part in, he’d slip right out. Or awkwardly stumble his way out. Whatever worked.

So he prepared two more cups of watered down coffee―at least something was good around here at this point―and brought three cups over to the pair. “Hey, just wanted to check in on you guys after last night. You all still feeling alright?” James asked softly, not wanting to interrupt the other conversations going on. “I know I promised a little alcohol involved the first time but this was the best I could whip up on short notice.” James joked lightly, very much prepared to bolt if it landed poorly.

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Requiem

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Location: The Hellfire Club
Skills: N/A

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Requiem retired to his apartment last night after the fiasco, incredibly irritated with the entire situation. His hands still stung, his leg was acting up, and he spent a few hours listening to records and reminiscing trying to get himself back in a better frame of mind. This was no time to be distracted with petty concerns, much less frustrations over the constant changing of responsibilities. A missing sentinel, an unexpected raid, a missing computer, and now an entire change of direction. It had taken him the entire time to get himself calm and refocused. It was times like these that the ache of loss hurts most sharply. Before he’d have someone to lean on, two people ready to listen and work with him when he needed these mental adjustments.

It had been difficult the first few months. He’d still spoke to them like he did before the assignment: asking Devon to pause his studies to set the table while he was cooking or yelling at Natasha when the laundry machine banged when it was unbalanced. But of course, no one answered and he contemplated more than once following them into the next life. He couldn’t afford a therapist. Financially yes but the risk involved was far too great so instead he did what he did best. He made a plan and resolved to do something about the situation.

Requiem made his way to their morning meeting in considerably better spirits than when he left the night before. He paused for a moment when he entered, both so that he could analyze the company and so he wouldn’t have to speak over the tapping of his cane. “Good morning everyone. From present company, it seems we’ll have our work cut out for us today.”

Ω Heroes of Olympus: The Next Age of Heroes Ω

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Aster Damien Luxiel

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Location: Dining Pavilion
Skills: N/A

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Aster checked his mirror one more time as he entered the dining pavilion, checking his hair and glitter one more time. He;d barely had enough time to take a decent shower after the morning class he taught―definitely not because he had a long routine and a late morning class really cut unreasonably into his time!―and he had to be perfect. Not that it was hard. His parent was the most beautiful thing in existence and he wouldn’t deny he got all his looks from her. He picked up a goblet and a plate, offering some of his food as per usual, and then scanned the hall to see who had made an appearance. He rolled his eyes at the whole Zeke and Demetri thing going down and sauntered his way over to his cabin’s table and slid into a seat across from Arthur, his newest sibling, and Theresa. He shot his other siblings a haughty look.

'Really? You know it doesn't work unless they can actually hear you." Aster rolled his eyes, leaning in towards the pair in front of him and stage whispered. "Ignore the harpies. They're just all upset their outfits are a few decades out of date now. Everyone knows denim is in this fall, not…" Aster grimaced as he gave his siblings the look over. "Even the kid of Zues is in on the trend. And I heard one of our sisters found a wrinkle today. Can you believe it? Is she even Aphrodite's child or did she just piss Mom off?"

"Did you get that?" Aster leaned back, eyebrow arched as he stared down his siblings. "Try and remember this time. Gossip properly or not at all. You'll set a bad example for our sister." He rolled his eyes and turned back to the pair with an exasperated sigh. "Siblings, can't live with them, can't live without them. And what do we owe this pleasure, Arthur. Bored over there at the Hades table?" Aster snapped his fingers as a light bulb went off in his head. "Oh Mona, I have a few different eyeliner and mascaras coming in. I don't have anything that'll ft that punk aesthetic you have going on quite but I was reading and I think I found something that'll give that kick-ass vibe you seem to be going for. I still can't get over the fact they put you in that hideous camp shirt. How could you, Theresa." He lamented dramatically, leaning back with a hand to his forehead.

Of Blood and Magic

Darkness rose cool on the night of the Revel. Mages restless and struggling to acclimate to their new routines would have heard the set up crew moving around across the campus, large trucks hauling the temporary structures that made up the roaming carnival. Rows on rows on rows of stalls, massive towers for coasters and rides, and an absurd amount of decorations were all unloaded over the course of the day with some help from the vampire organizers before the moon found its bed. Mages finished the job, magic and manuel labor hand in hand as they set up for the next few nights of fun.

Music and light broke the normally peaceful campus weekend, entertainers and workers eagerly calling about. Game stalls lined the walkways and the picnic benches had all been removed or shifted around to make room for the various spinning rides and bumper carts and coasters that broke the Academy skyline. The scent of carnival food, a break from the healthier options the school actively pushed on the students, drifted across the campus: funnel cake, cotton candy, meat pies, corn dogs, and the lot. Students bolted from one stall to another, laughter trailing them, and excited screams echoed from one end of the Academy to the other and the usual first semester tension of new students trying to find their place in a new society eased somewhat.

A few days before, every dorm received an informational letter of the special events occuring in the ballrooms. This year's theme was Masquerade but instead of demanding it across all campus, the Academy limited the required attire to ballroom events. It was required, as per the letter, that students be dressed appropriate to the theme in order to enter and more than one event would end in a contest for the best outfit. The last four of each day, specialty shows put on by Marivaldi show mages, had limited seating so RSVPs would have to be made in order to attend. However, all other dances, shows, and contests were open to anyone interested.

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A porcelain mask painted with a dizzying array of spiral colors hung from an older woman's face, covering it completely. An elegant dress, black and silver with traces of green thread touching around the edges, flowed behind her as she made her way gracefully through the crowd. She practically skimmed the ground as she walked. The exuberant crowd barely phased her, moving with the ease and grace of someone accustomed to such things. She followed the paths around until she found a dark corner--out of sight is out of mind, after all--and she waited. The smell, the sound, the heat of precious blood pumping under the vermin's skin was intoxicating.

But she held strong. She waited. And waited. And waited. Impatience was boiling under her skin when the filth stopped to fix his shoe. Perfect. He was gone in a flash, experienced hands winding around his throat and mouth before they were safely away up the building. She relished that moment, the smell of fear and helplessness as her fangs broke skin, and a little sigh came out as the first drops of blood splattered across her tongue. She drank deeply.

Until his lifeless corpse slumped from her hands.

She grinned as she slipped her mask back on. The weak, silly Noila princess went soft after the war and she collected all these fine blood bags all ripe for the plucking. It was a feast, all cozy and unsuspecting, wrapped up in the silly comforts they didn’t deserve. These vermin were meant to fear them and she was in the prime position to remind them. And get a delicious meal to boot. The silly princess wouldn’t even know somone plundered her precious collection until the morn and she’d be long gone by then. The grin turned feral.

This would be far too fun.

ＦＩＮＡＬ ＦＡＮＴＡＳＹ Ｘ｜Ｖ： Ｔｈｅ Ｂｌｅｓｓｅｄ Ｔｗｅｌｖｅ

The carriage came to a halt shortly after the pair's conversation came to a close, pulling Kajin out of his brief contemplation. He didn't recall an aetheric disturbance in the various records he transcribed but he wasn't looking for one. The next bell that finds him with free time, he'll send a letter back to Ul'dah if courier timing worked out. Mentioning a Padjal believed such an anomaly exists would likely get the Eyes investigating in a heartbeat. Kajin shrugged, putting the matter out of mind for now, and hopped out of the carriage and brusted off the little dust cloud still swirling around the carriage wheels. He took a moment to look around and grinned.

The Silver Bazaar. A struggling monument from an Era sorely missed but despite all its flaws, this bazaar was still one of Kajin’s favorite places in all of Thanalan. First of all, the best pescatore came out of here an Kajin was willing to put Gil (and fire, lots of fire) on that. Secondly, the stars at night on the back edge of the town were gorgeous. HIs first time seeing the ocean was magical, born in a landlocked region of Thanalan, and he fell in love with stargazing on the rock behind the bazaar became one of his favorite past times. Sure, the town needed fixing up and sometimes rougher folk made their way around here but most of the town’s populace were worth making friends with.

Kajin listened to Lyveva, nodding along with a frown. She skipped over someone, probably one of the best of the town’s residents to speak with. Most of the people here had at least considered turning tail and running as business collapsed and those same people wouldn’t have any issue letting a fraudulent auction run rampant if it meant incoming gil. No, Kajin knew a few people and if anyone would be willing to help, it’d be the one person who would rather die than see the Silver Bazaar finally collapse into the sands. The Gil might be pretty attractive but it would just take a little convincing that developing the Bazaar’s reputation as a shady place would only hurt her efforts to restore the once proud markets to their former glory.

“Okay, okay. I know she said all those people but how about you stick with me and we can try something else?” Kajin asked E-Siri, scanning the crowd and giving out a loud “Hehe, found ya!” before he bolted off into the crowd, expertly dodging wandering feet and knees until he skidded to a halt, beaming. “Kikipu!”

X-Men: Cosmic Crusades 👽

James Kingston

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Location: Human Resistance HQ, New York, New York
Skills: N/A

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“I’m know Max. I just told you last call and then you’re done. I wasn’t asking you to call Casper. I know where he is and what he is doing. I’d like to say safe but when does that ever apply to him.” James sighed. “I left him a voicemail. He’ll check his phone when he checks his phone. It wasn’t a strong suit of his in the real world and I highly doubt he’ll take the time to check his messages while he’s bouncing around a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. Its more likely we run into himbefore he even looks at the damn thing.” He shook his head with exasperate fondness in his words before he returned his attention to Max.

“Rest dude. It sounds like we have a full day ahead of us tomorrow and you’re starting to look a little thin.” James poked Max in the side. “And you’re not a fuck up. Sure you’ve made some… mistakes but you’re also bending the laws of the universe so I think you deserve a little slack. And I’m not sure how all your magic works but maybe once we fix all this, you’ll remember all these things you can do and even if it doesn;’t help you immediately, it gives you a goal to work towards. Sometimes all you need is a little direction and I think this is more than just a little. Maybe you could even remember how you learned all this so you can replicate it in our reality!”

Talrae Reborn

Willow wasted no time making her way to the group’s meetup spot, River close on her heels. He was chompin at the bit apparently and Willow wanted to be able to reign him in if River decided to take off without thinking. She sighed, again no response from Prome, but she put that out of her mind. As long as he was in town, he shouldn’t get into too much trouble… Right?

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“Aye, it’s a right masterpiece. Made ‘er just last week. Last bit o’ material I had too. Nasty stuff to work with but old Bidhorn got the job done!” The shopkeeper chuckled but gave Holly an appraising look. “Now, not for nothing, but I think yer not quite suited for the smithin’ life right now, lassie. It’s plain to see you haven’t picked up a hammer in your life. Come back to my shop after you got a few projects under your belt and we’ll talk shop.”

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Alfor Ratshrew’s home was much the same as the night before and the door opened to reveal Rowena once again who only sighed and ushered Prome in. “Frankly, I’m surprised you weren’t scratching at the door like a dog when I stepped out this morning. What possessed you to visit us at such a queer hour of the night? It wasn’t as if your business was pressing.” Rowena grumbled as she finished cutting fruit for a platter on the table. She tugged on a rope hanging by the fireplace and the same jingling could be heard upstairs. A heavy thumping could be heard as Alfor made an appearance at the top of the stairs once more.

“Ah, he returns! How exciting!” Alfor exclaimed, heavy footsteps pounding down the stairs before he clapped Prome on the shoulder. “What idea have you cooked up in your head overnight?”

The Gifted - Concluded

James Kingston

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Location: The Mutant Underground (Stairs to Floor 2)
Skills: N/A

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James sighed as he paused on the stairs. He could feel the exhaustion seeping into his muscles as he stood there. How many people had he healed today? If someone else needed anything more than a patch up, he might honestly pass out. His stomach grumbled and he frowned at it. Healing powers may be great but they relied on his own reserves too and 16 children plus a beaten up Jack and nearly dead Casper was a lot to handle. He felt his legs wobble a little and decided very quickly he should probably take a break before gravity demanded it. He sat down on the steps to watch the interrogation of their attackers.

Just in time to see Max burst through the doors and his eyebrows shot up. He wouldn’t claim to know Max well but he hadn’t seen anger on his before. It was weird; he’d only ever seen embarrassment or… well, mostly embarrassment on him considering he did burn down a building. Pride maybe? Definitely vanity. But anger seemed out of place for him. “Those two,” James jerked his head over at the unconscious girl and Vulcan, “Showed up outta nowhere and started blasting away. There was also a Purifier attack at the same time down in the Morlock tunnels. We’ve just been getting people back on their feet.” James explained, the weariness creeping into his voice even as he tried to battle it back.

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Requiem

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Location: The Hellfire Club
Skills: N/A

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“Nothing you need to be concerned with. Just follow along.” Requiem replied as they waited for the elevator. He mostly ignored inx’s rambling; the boy was likely still hyper from their encounter with the misfits and needed to let off steam but he did pull Requiem’s attention to their newest… ally. Considering her connection to Frost, it was likely she was more of a leash than anything else. She was useful, he supposed, although he wasn’t impressed with the girl’s performance. She managed to convert one of the most useless members of their little band of renegades, put out some fire, and get herself impaled. Oh and she tossed the thief nearly out the window,he should credit her that. Too bad she failed the follow through.

“She does remind me of Ms. Frost.” With all her inherent weaknesses. Arrogant and reckless, eager to prove herself better than those around her with little regard to her own position. Requiem chuckled quietly to himself. She’ll learn soon enough that often times circumstances entirely unrelated to her are what cause her usefulness to change. Too often do soldiers forget they are disposable and Requiem firmly believed the Kings and Queens saw themselves as the only irreplaceable pieces to their plots. Even a queen loses interest in her favorites if better circumstances appear.

ＦＩＮＡＬ ＦＡＮＴＡＳＹ Ｘ｜Ｖ： Ｔｈｅ Ｂｌｅｓｓｅｄ Ｔｗｅｌｖｅ

Kajin’s heels bounced off the seat of the carriage as he finished his last crumpet. Getting into the wheeled box was a blur, his focus singularly on the horned child. A ruckus of books hitting the ground had pulled his attention away long enough to send a glare the girl’s way. Books didn’t just grow on trees! It took hours upon hours upon hours of painstaking penmanship to produce them and someone had the audacity to toss them around like gil on the blood sands! He had half a mind to stomp over to her but he decided against it. If they were going to be working in close proximity for the foreseeable future, it wouldn’t do to start anything so quickly. So he held his tongue and followed the rest of the group as they were ushered into the carriage, making sure to seat himself as close to the Padjal as he could.

He needed to be respectful and polite, ask questions approperitaley and respect boundaries but at the same time he wanted to know. He licked the remaining butter off his fingers, practically vibrating with the need to bombard the child with questions, but he had some semblance of self con--

"It's the horns, isn't it? Are those the secret to the timeless deal?" The question burst out, definitely meant to be a thought but the Lalafell and his curiosity had never been one to respect the situation. "Thall’s balls, that was meant to stay private. Kajin Najin, aetheric evaluator for Azyma's Eyes. I've just never seen a Padjal outside of the twelveswood, or at all for that matter, and I'm dying to know what stories are true!"

“Hmmm?” the Padjal mused aloud. He turned his head, instinctively looking up for the source of the voice that had spoken, as though expecting to find a Hyur or Elezen there. Instead, he found that he had to look down -- which was a strange experience for him -- and discovered a Lalafell who seemed quite taken with him.

Placing a hand over his heart, the boy gave a slight bow toward the diminutive figure. “E-Siri-Rai of the timeless horn,” the child supplied in introduction, making light jest.

Then he paused a moment, reaching up both hands to gentle touch the horns on either side of his head as though checking that they were still there. “Though, to be honest, I’m not sure these are good for much more than destroying many a good pillow,” the youth commented wryly, before looking down and adding, “Also, making it rather hard to get comfortable. It’s not easy to just flip over when you spear the bed every time you turn your head.”

Kajin couldn’t help the laughter that burst out, folding in half in the seat as he giggled. He hadn’t contemplated the difficulty the horns presented. He just assumed they adapted to them somehow but it made sense that laying down would be a struggle. However, he was more surprised at the joke. The Pagjals, despite their child-like stature, always seemed aloof in the stories he heard and yet here was one, cracking jokes with a stranger. Admitly, here was one presenting the perfect counter argument to the Lalfell’s assuptions.

“Delightful!” Kajin wiped the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes as he caught his breath. His heels resumed their steady thunking against the carraige’s seating. “I hadn’t considered the challenges unwieldy additions presented but I guess that would be a frustration. Simple blessing for me and I’m not below taking it. So E-Siri-Rai, two questions. One, is there a short version cause that’s a mouthful. Two, are you truly unaffected by time?” Kajin counted his questions on his fingers as he asked, leaning forward with curious eyes.

The young Padjal gave a slight smile, seeing that the jest seemed to have landed its mark and somewhat satisfied by that fact. “E-Siri’s my name, if that’s what your asking,” the boy remarked in answer. “Rai is the family that I was born into. Padjal don’t often come from our lot though, so we’re not as well known in Gridania as the Senna or Yan.”

The second part of that gave the boy pause to consider just how to answer. “No one’s unaffected by time. It’s passage denotes a loss, a change, a passage to each of us. Some just don’t manifest it the same as others,” the Seedseer offered, somewhat musing to himself as he contemplated that. But, it seemed about as good an answer as any. “Will I grow up as you did? No. But, I am capable of learning and that’s a change of a sort, isn’t it?”

"E-Siri, okay. Nice to meet you." Kajin beamed but cocked his head at the answer to his second question. While the answer was correct, it wasn't the response he was looking for but that was entirely his own fault. "It is a change, for better or for worse, but will you pass away of old age like me? If some bumbling, wine-sodden brute doesn't crush me first that is." The last part was a grumble as he recalled the tavern incident but he shook it off as quickly as it came, a contemplative look taking the scowl's place.

"I couldn't even imagine the responsibility that comes with life longer than what the twelve gave me." Kajin spoke slowly, looking at the ceiling. "The knowledge you would gain, the things you could advance."

The boy just blinked as he looked down at the Lalafell fellow. Then the boy gave a warm laugh. “Everything that has a beginning, has an end,” the boy offered, by way of a somewhat cryptic explanation. “Death is what gives life meaning. Some of us just live longer than others, be they wine-sodden brutes or Padjali. In this way, what we hope to advance is a better of understanding of how man and nature co-exist.”

“I think I disagree with that point but I don’t think I have enough of an understanding to say why.” Kajin frowned at the statement. It just seemed weird, that for something to have meaning that it must be finite. A rope, regardless of length, was a useful tool and likely doubly so if it never ended but he’d never had an endless amount of rope so maybe it wasn’t useful and was only useful if you cut it into segments and… Kajin clicked his tongue to break that chain of thought before he stuck himself in it and developed a nasty head pain.

“I’ll leave the philosophizing in better hands.” The Lalafell chuckled. “So E-Siri, what brought you to this little group? It’s a far way from the Black Shroud.” Kajin watched the blazing blue Thanalan sky beat down in sandy roads, cactars playing in what flora managed to find purchase in the thin soil.

“Curiosity about the world in which the Shroud exists,” the boy answered simply. There was far more to it, but the easy answer seemed the better option, particularly for the the sake of making conversation. “And yourself?”

The boy paused there a moment, before continuing, “I’ll admit that I’m not well acquainted with Lalafell. Your name is Kajin Najin. Do I say the whole thing, or just Kajin?”

"Kajin works just fine. It's the short version, makes it easier for non-dunesfolk to say it." The Lalafell shrugged, offering a half smile with the information. "I joined Ayzema's Eyes to help settle the world and my brother stuck me on desk duty even though I have the skills to be an assessor. I got bored after three years, saw the flyer, and went behind his back to get transferred out of scribe work. So now I'm here, free to travel. So long as I do my job along the way."

As the Lalafell spoke, a noise from another part of the carriage caught the Padjal’s attention. Turning his head away just a moment, the horned child looked over where two Miqo’te had been speaking quietly. Which, appeared to have moved on to one beating a tambourine. And, from there, the singing started.

Turning back toward his similarly diminutive new friend, the Padjal had to raise his voice just a bit to be heard over the Limsan revelry that was happening in the carriage. “It sounds like we may be in similar circumstances,” the Padjal noted aloud. “Though, I admit that I’m not very familiar with Ayzema’s Eyes. It is the name of the guild that you represent?”

Kajin looked on with confusion as one of the Miqo’te started a beat and grinned as they started singing. His heels bounced against the seat in time with the music, turning his attention back to E-Siri. “Although I’m not 100% sure how its handled in the other city states, Ayzema’s Eyes’ Thanalan branch is under the supervision of the Thaumaturge’s Guild in Ul’dah. We record and monitor the aetheric condition of Eorzea. As we see stable trends among the regions, we’ll push forward to develop possible counters to severe aetheric imbalance. It relies heavily on aetheric sensitive individuals, although I think the higher ups are developing possible alternatives. We have monitoring stations across Eorzea and use members like me to wander and confirm the station’s observations.”

“Fascinating,” the boy remarked. It seemed that in Thanalan he had found an organization whose appreciation for the scope and depth of the elemental reach ran parallel to his own. “I’d be curious to look at your data for Gridania to see if your observations don’t match my own,” the child offered candidly. “Of late, we’ve observed a recurring elemental disturbance in the South Shroud. I’d be curious if there wasn’t some kind of mild imbalance somewhere in Eastern Thanalan that didn’t correspond.”

"A disturbance out of the South Shroud?” Kajin frowned at the comment. He didn’t personally know what the Padjal was talking about but if the Eyes observed a similar phenomena, there were a few stations that came to mind. “I’ll requisition a copy of the Golden Baazar’s records and cross reference them with your observations. Hopefully, that’ll give us a clearer indicator of the stressor. However, I think you’ll find your knowledge far suprasses our own. With the Calamity making a right mess of the aether, our early data only reflects the correction process so it may take some work to extrapolate the imbalance but I’m sure if we put our heads together, we’ll figure it out!”

Ω Heroes of Olympus: The Next Age of Heroes Ω

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Aster Damien Luxiel

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Location: Wyandotte County Lake Park
Skills: N/A

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“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I got it, I got it.” Aster stood from his spot next to the fire, grabbing his bow and shaking out the stiffness from his legs after sitting so long. He headed over to where his equipment lay, grabbing his bow and gesturing at his own tent. “You can hang out in mine for now. No dirty feet or shoes inside so clean your feet off in the river if you need to. And if you fuck it up, you’re cleaning it, not me.” Aster instructed as he sauntered back to the fire. He poked at it, adding a bit more fuel as he did, and returned his attention to the woods around them.

The woods. He sighed, missing the noise and the energy of the city. The only “energy” out here were bugs. Lots and lots of bugs. Aster grumbled as he applied a fresh coat of the foul smelling spray. There would be hell to pay if he found a single damn bug bite on himself after this. He worked too hard for some third rate garbage spray to fuck it all up now. He pulled out his phone, opening his to-do list, and added Research Bug Repellants under Subscribe to New Fashion Magazines and Develop New Routine for Class. Aster tucked his phone away and returned to his job, settling in for a long night.

Talrae Reborn

“M-me?” The girl asked in apparent disbelief, looking around her to see if there was someone else the adventurer could be speaking with. After a few moments, Nanlia turned back to Cecelia. “I need to gather Java root for my brother… He’s sick so he can’t go out right now but we need the money. There’s so many beasts out there though, I’ll get eaten up! Can you come with me and fight off anything that comes around? I’ll give you a cut of the pay.” The girl asked, hope practically radiating from her.

Quest: Into the Woods
Escort Nanlia into the woods to gather java roots and defend her from attacks.

Rewards: XP, Renn
Accept Quest?
Y / N

Meanwhile...

The shrine dedicated to the Goddess Morrigan was easily spotted, a black, red, and white standard sitting out front an unassuming building. On the front, a three faced mask was surrounded by a circle of blood on a white field. A figure, Grisham the Purifier Trainer, in full plate crashed his fist against his chest in salute to several passersby. Soft chanting floated out from inside and an older woman stepped outside, full plate and a longsword at her side shining brightly, to take the Purifier’s place. Wilka the Battle Cleric Trainer hovered above her head as she waved politely to a few children playing in the market.