Fantasy Realms of Nymserine: Main Thread [[CLOSED]]

[Purize]

Brother Avery looked at Ali's amulet in contempt and disbelief. He looked like he was just about to start another yelling match when another priest stepped in, holding up a hand to stop the both of them. He look at Ali with a grave and serious expression. "Until we are sure the Oracle hasn't suffered from any permanent damage, I will ask you kindly to leave the Library. Even though this wasn't completely a fault of yours, you will be held responsible if she doesn't recover."

"We should lock him up then!" Brother Avery blurted loudly. "We shouldn't allow him to leave and run off, what if-" Again, he was caught off with a sharp glare from the priest next to him. "Calm yourself, Brother. Tieve will be fine. You're too protective of the child. I'm sure she will be awake and sneaking around again in no time." He patted Brother Avery's shoulder in comfort, but he only huffed and crossed his arms. "I'm only upholding my duty to our Master," he grumbled. With one last menacing look at Ali, Brother Avery turned and stalked down the hall, no doubt going to Tieve's chambers to check on her condition.

The other priest sighed and gestured Ali to follow him. "Right then, I'll show you the way out. You've caused quite enough excitement for one evening."
Brendanfp

 

[BugDozer73]

With everyone safely across, Roland was able to breath freely. Despite there limited time together, he had no interest in seeing any of them die. He could tell that Verity felt the same way. The two of them were beginning to assemble their own crew, a friendly one, but he wondered what they would do when they both went to join the circle. Though they seemed to all be capable warriors, he didn't have them marked as "final defense against the darkness" kind of hero's. Not to mention that some of them would might not even be interested in joining at all. The only one who struck Roland as being dangerous was Kezine: Her display in the battlefield was as awe-inspiring as it was damnable. It didn't take the Oracle to foresee a "No" from her after the question of the circle dropped.

Enough Roland halted his mind. We need to move forward, and out of the storm.

"Let's keep moving people- there's still a lot ground to cover and a storm to escape. Pyrrhus, if you wouldn't mind assisting any wounded?"
Roland didn't wait around for them to ask questions, but trudged past them all quickly. Only forward, Never backwards.

The next few hours were nothing short of exhausting. The rain refused to cease for the entirety of the trip, only easing up a little to increase visibility of the road a few extra, imperceivable feet. The mud on the ground seemed to reach upwards and grasp at their feet, like lost souls clutching at salvation. It certainly didn't make the walk easier. But without anymore raging rivers or falling trees, Roland considered himself rather lucky. After their long haul forward, their luck seemed to persist, and the rain finally stopped. The now clear but humid air was filled with the forrest songs of the birds and insects, and at a tall clearing, past another few miles of woods, was the sky line of the capital city of Aeredale. Even from a distance it was like a lighthouse, pulling the soul to shore. Roland felt an unexplainable sense of relief and relaxation wash over him, almost like magic. they had come far enough, and the moon had now grown high in the sky.

"We can stop here for the night. I'll work on finding some dry wood for a fire. Those who are able to set up camp should do so." He nodded to the others. "We'll be at Aeredale by morning."

Roland stepped away from the group and put as much distance as he could between them and him in five minutes. He was grateful for the moment of solitude, for several reasons. A fire sounded like a good idea, but there was no dry kindling around; without his help, of course.

He found several loose branches, ripped free by the storm, and quickly drained all the water out of them, dripping to the earth like a sponge being rung out. He did another look around to make sure no one had seen, but found no one. He was also glad to be alone with his thoughts for a moment.
With the crisis past, there was time to reflect on everything, and everyone. By morning they would be in Aeredale, and quite possibly split ways. And while that was perhaps for the best, he couldn't seem to release the sense of dread for their coming departure.

And what was with him bossing everyone around today? After the flood, he had just started moving, not even thinking. Greuwn had made it look easy, commanding the crew with grace and dignity, guiding their respect as well as a finely scrubbed and oiled ship. Roland was no captain. His self-doubt squatted in his mind, content to stay and torment him for the time being. Roland decided to keep moving, and he gathered his firewood and headed back towards the clearing.

 

[Zazz]

Back at the camp, Azaria slid off of her new friend's back. She patted his arm in thanks and went around to the soaked horse. Now only walking with a limp, as Pyrrhus had said earlier, the halfling gently led the horse to a nice patch of grass. While it grazed, she checked its hooves for splinters from the old bridge, and cleaned them out as best she could.

By the time she returned to the others, Roland had returned with dry kindling - by some miracle - and they had a small fire being tended to. Azaria wrung out her hair and combed through it with her fingers before removing her boots to dry them by the fire. "Let's not do that again." Off came her belt and the rest of her clothes, until she was sitting in her undergarments in front of the fire.

 

[Melon Bomb]

"You saw who!?"

Through the easing din of Ripley's Tavern, two men began to hold captive the attention of no less than a dozen drunken patrons, swiveling about on their stools to lend an ear to yet another unlikely story. The bartender continued serving drinks without sparing a glance, long deaf to the tall tales he's heard in his time. The waitress brushed back her ginger curls, setting down a tray for a table of gentlemen and following their gazes to the corner table. Even the man playing the viol in the opposite quarter of the room slowed his bow against the strings, curious to hear what the hubbub was this time.

"It's true!" the more poorly shaven of the pair added, swallowing as they exchanged glances and recalled their confrontation at the bandit camp. "We saw the elf princess! On the road to Aeredale, with a host of personal bodyguards in tow. A dangerous lot I'll tell you, you look at them the wrong way and they'll fry you. Armed to the teeth with magic and weapons, there was even a centaur for Thasia's sake!"

"A cen-taur?" a scraggly haired man slurred, scratching at his beard. "Ain't what horseman I seen jussa 'ther day?"

"You didn't see nothin'." An older man pushed through the entrance, tipping his hat to the patrons before taking the last empty seat. The caravan driver from last night, pipe between his teeth. He beckoned to the waitress and ordered some ale, letting smoke plume around his table.

"What do you want, dust mop?" the ex-bandit squinted, slamming his hand down on the polished wood. He was unamused by the sudden voice of skepticism. . . he wasn't there, was he?

"Good afternoon to ya, Elim!" one said, laughing as he raised his frothing glass to the old man. "What happened this time? Basilisk ate your cart?"

"No, but these fine gentlemen sure had their way with it," he replied, gesturing to the two wide-eyed bandits.

"What!?" they cried in unison.

"And they would've taken my life, too, if it hadn't been for a brave group of adventurers. . ." The man lifted his drink as it came to him, taking a long sip. He cracked one eye open. ". . . and a centaur."

"What a ridiculous lie! I've never see this man in my-"

But it was too late. The damage was done, and the patrons who had been previously listening to their tale with eager faces now glared with a silent belligerence. They were far more willing to believe the words of a regular than these sketchy strangers - knowing this, Elim played his cards to his advantage. He couldn't get his damn cargo across because of these sons a' bitches, so the last thing he wanted to see was their ugly mugs when he was fixing to wind down with a cool drink. He motioned 'tata' with his hand as they stormed out the bar, driven away by the tavern's newfound hostility.

"Bastards," he swore, kicking an empty bottle as he embraced the natural light. "The hell does that guy think he is?"

"Excuse me."

The two turned around, watching a young man bounce off the wall he was leaning his shoulder against.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. . ." he continued, grinning as he fiddled with the business end of a rapier. "If it's no trouble, I'd love to hear the rest of it."

- - -

Charlotte missed the wagon already. For someone who was reasonably fit, she sure hated walking. Thankfully, the contents of her bag were nice and dry - she had the money to afford tough waterproof gear, and boy was she going to use it. She had half the mind to steal Kezine for a little bit of reflex training - that fence blast was embarrassing, she couldn't be caught getting knocked out so easily if she planned on surviving in the field.

For now, she bided her time drying off by the fire.

"Which part?" Charlotte sighed, massaging her swollen shoulder. "Fighting a fortified camp with only six people? Or trying to ford a thrashing river? Damn, what a day."

-

In the far end of the clearing, Kezine was practicing with her weapon in its blunt form, controlling the bursts of energy for repeated use. They were strong, but she was no gambler. All or nothing doesn't work every time, she had to learn to concentrate it into smaller strikes. The staff-like weapon whirled audibly as she spun and switched hands, cycling through motions as she got the hang of the momentum she threw into each swing. It nearly dropped a few times, as it always did, but her recovery was quick.

She wasn't really sure where she was going to go from here. She could leave, wander off again to who knows where. They probably won't stop her.

She could accept Charlotte's offer and join her guild. . . a sense of direction would be nice, even if she hated being tied down.

Kezine planted her weapon vertically into the dirt, looking over her shoulder to the group again. But what she really wanted - no, what she really needed - was for someone to put her on the right path again. And maybe, there was one among them who could be that someone. Maybe it was too early tell, but she had nothing to lose by trying.

Nothing but her life, anyway.

 

[Purize]

They picked a nice little spot to stop for the night and Verity was grateful to finally rest. She pitched her makeshift tent and helped Fernwe make one as well. Despite the weather beginning to look nicer, Verity was still cold and her clothes were damp and muddy. She wanted nothing more than to go wash off the dirt and the smell of river water. So when everyone started to settle and Roland began to build a fire she snuck off to find a place to bathe.

She walked for a good few minutes before she finally heard the trickle of running water. She gave the swollen stream a unhappy look; she'd gotten enough water for one day, but the mud and dirt that caked on her body was beginning to make her skin itch. Gingerly, she stripped her clothing, occasionally wincing at the stiff and bruised parts on her body. The water was cold and goosebumps rose along her arms and legs. She scrubbed relentlessly at the grime until she could actually see her natural skin tone again. Her hair shone in the water like pools of melted precious metals and eventually it was also restored to it's original silvery luster. When she was convinced that she was as clean as she was going to get, she got out of the creek and shuffled through her bag for clean clothes to wear.

She changed and was ready to head back when she looked down at the tattered cloak that sat crumpled on the forest floor next to her other things. She picked it up, and frowned as she gave it a look-over. It was hopelessly trashed, not only from the bandit battle, but from the river and torrential rain as well. That cloak was like a symbol of her secrets, one that showed fear for her past and true identity. Maybe it was for the best. Verity didn't feel like hiding anymore. She hated the lies and the secrets... constantly hating herself for things she couldn't control.

Verity trailed her thumb across the fabric and walked towards a tree, placing the cloak over a low-hanging branch. In the dimming light, it looked like a ghost fluttering in the gentle breeze. When she collected the rest of her things and began to walk back to the camp, she didn't look back at its pale form waving in a silent farewell.

Not much had happened while she was gone, and when she returned, Azaria was enjoying the fire. She had plopped down and promptly started stripping off her clothes. Verity, who had sat next to her, snapped her head away feeling abashed. What was with people being half-naked in front of her lately? She would probably die of embarrassment if she were ever that exposed in front of others. She wondered how the two elves could be so different. Perhaps that was just another stigma of her own upbringing... A thought popped into Verity's head, and for a moment she forgot about her discomfort. She turned to Azaria.

"How's your leg doing?"

 

[Zazz]

The grumpy half-elf glared at the fire, willing it to burn higher. "We are never crossing that stupid river in the middle of a storm again," she clarified for the redhead. With a quick shift of her eyes, she found Kezine practicing with her not-staff. Loathe as she was to admit it, Kezine had gotten them across the cursed river.

Azaria glanced Verity's way, noticing the change in attire. "It's not perfect, but it isn't unbearable, thanks to Pyrrhus." She gave her centaur friend a quick, small smile and returned her gaze to the fire. It glinted in her bright eyes. "Hopefully it will be better before we reach the city."

 

[Purize]

Verity nodded, glancing briefly at the girl's leg before staring into the fire. "Good, I'm glad. I never thanked you by the way. For taking the watch tower." Verity smiled ruefully. "There was no way we could have known Kezine was up there... so I'm glad you're okay." Her smiled faded to a frown as she thought. Her crystal blue eyes caught the the reflection of the flickering fire like flames licking at the edges of ice.

At the mention of Aeredale, Verity recalled Roland asking earlier that day if she'd ever been there. At the time all she could think about was how she could go anywhere but home. After a moment, verity blurted quietly, "Have you ever been to Shylanora?"

 

[Zazz]

Azaria sent a glare the mage's way. She did not appreciate being bested at her own game. Had Kezine not had magic at her disposal, the blonde would have had a knife in her throat just the same as her minion.

Shylanora. The halfling resisted the urge to hiss at the name. "I grew up, there. Same as you." She missed the endless woods, but not the people. Especially not her mother. "I left at eighteen, shortly after you fled. There was nothing for me, there." Azaria lowered her gaze to the healing bruises on her lower leg. "I haven't gone back."

Azaria looked at the elf beside her. She was beautiful, of course. She had her mother's hair, and those blue eyes sparkled with emotion in the firelight. Hesitantly, the halfling reached up to tuck a piece of Verity's hair behind her pointed ear. "You miss home."

 

[Purize]

Verity looked back to Azaria. Empathy tugged at her heart as she looked over her face, from her pointed ears to the dark tattoo on her cheek. "Sometimes I do. It was never really a home to me, but I can't help be feel like I've been cheated out of my birthright." She shrugged with feigned indifference, but pain filled the pale elf's eyes. "Though, I guess it's silly. I don't want to rule a people who never accepted me."

She flicked her wrist dismissively. "I take it you don't miss it." Verity gave her a small, knowing smile. "Elves are stubborn and often close-minded. You and I may be cast-offs, but I believe that there are no such things as mistakes."

 

[Zazz]

Azaria sighed and leaned back on her palms, gazing up at the moon. "You will rule again. They are your people, after all. I think you might be surprised at the support you would have." The halfling knew there was far less dislike for the magic-using princess in the lower families. "Perhaps not now, but one day. It is your throne." She took in a deep breath of rain-washed earth. "I only hope that you will remember to serve your people as they serve you."

 

[Purize]

Azaria's words hung in the air like mist and Verity let them sink in for a moment before giving the girl next to her a genuine smile. "Perhaps one day," she echoed. "Thank you, Vel' hyrek."

She looked down, still smiling, knowing Azaria would most likely recognize those ancient Elven words. It was a phrase spoken among people you respected and trusted. It was a practice among elvenkind even to this day. Their people may have wronged them, but the history and culture was still in their heritage. They might as well embrace it. And even though she guessed Azaria wasn't a full-blooded elf, it didn't bother Verity. Blood ran and spilled the same.

 

[Zazz]

The half-elf blinked in surprise at Verity's words, and looked at the princess. Never had another elf considered her their own. Azaria opened her mouth to respond, but shut it when no words came forth. Respect and gratitude welled in her eyes and she hastily wiped it away, not wanting anyone to see how deep the wounds really ran. But her heart still swirled with emotion, even if she wouldn't show it. The halfling placed her hand over Verity's and whispered, "Thank you."

 

[BugDozer73]

Roland moved around close to the flames, tending them as the two women spoke. He listened as they reminisced over there home, and tried not to pay attention as Azaria flirted with Verity. Instead, Roland focused on keeping the flames high and the heat on the group. Several more logs and some branches later, Roland was satisfied with the heat, and sat himself on the opposite side of the fire. He stripped his damn shirt from his body, the wet cloth pulling away from his skin like a child being pulled towards a bath: unwillingly. Once free, he tossed it onto a low hanging branch, where it hung and began to dry. It would have been easier had they not brought the others along: then he could just will both himself and Verity dry. But by that logic, he would have never gotten to where he was now, most likely.

He pushed his mind past that and decided he would soon be asleep, so he rose and grabbed his bed roll, and placed it near the fire. Most of the other people had tents to sleep in, but Roland liked to look at the stars.

"I will take first watch. You should all get some sleep, it will be morning soon." He said, laying down on the roll with his head in his hands and the heavens in his gaze. Somewhere up there was a woman of blue, staring right back at him.

 

[SilverFlight]

Pyrrhus was glad when Roland called the order to make camp. His decisive orders made him feel like he was back in a company again and he followed them without question. he cleared the space for a fire, dug into the earth with hooves caked to the knee in mud from the trail and set stones about the pit. He helped put up tents and gather water from the river, the stream. That too was swollen with the rain's effect. Once water had been fetched he set a pot over the fire and began making supper.
Pyrrhus, had never thought of himself as a good cook, the archer in his past company had previously run a very prestigious restaurant. Against him, Pyrrhus was nothing, but the scent wafting from the pot just as the food finished cooking was nothing short of heavenly. Fresh potatoes, carrots, celery, several handfuls of dried white beans, salty stock and a good measure of barely.
He politely ignored the two elves as they spoke. None of it was his business and he was happy to give them privacy. Instead he began singing to himself, a bouncing ditty often performed at one of the inland town's fall harvest festivals.

"Oak and ash and beach and yew,
Change their leaves with fall's first dew,
I change colour with new coats too,
But there ain't nothin' better than a barley stew!"

He banged the side of the small pot with the ladle and doled out portions to any nearby who wanted it. After the elves had finished speaking he pushed a bowl into Roland's hand and sat down by the fire.
"Can't sleep on an empty stomach, or at least I can't. Allow me to take the first one Master Stormblade, I mean no offense but you look dead on your feet." Pyrrhus' smile was easy, but the hint of concern for his friend was there. The road was difficult but Pyrrhus, having four feet and being used to long, hard treks fared a little better than most.
He followed the man's gaze up to the stars.
"Do the stars hold stories for your people too?" Pyrrhus picked out the constellations he knew, recalling the stories for each with a faint smile. Then he looked at Roland seriously and asked: "What do you plan to do after you collect the bounty?"

BugDozer73 Purize Zazz

 

[BugDozer73]

Roland sat up, looking incredulously at the barley stew placed so generously in his hands. He sat up slightly and offered a small thankful nod to the centaur, beginning to hungrily eat his stew. He had forgotten how hungry he was, not eating all day and surviving a catastrophe. At Pyrrhus request to take the first watch, Roland agreed reluctantly, only silently observing just how tired he really was. Most likely he would have fallen asleep before his shift ended. He had taken night watch shifts on the boat before, but back then it had been easier.

"Alright, but you will wake me up for the second shift. Everyone else is just as tired, and they deserve a rest. You are a kind heart, Pyrrhus. It is hard for me to believe that you have ever spent time alone."

At the mention of the stars, Roland looked back up at the heavens. He spoke without thinking, regretting his words only too late as they slipped from his mouth. "They might. But Greuwn always taught me that Thasia resided in both the oceans and the starlight at night, watching over us all on the water. When she told me she had been there everyday I had touched the surf, I felt closer to her then. Now that I am getting further away from the sea I am wondering if I am slipping out of her gaze..."

Roland froze, his eyes glued on the night sky, but his senses trained on the horse for a reaction: a small prayer slipped his lips breathlessly that the horse had simply overlooked the slip up.

*Ahem* "I guess I think, ummm, that I would get some, uh, place to live? Someplace overlooking the water? Someplace for me and Verity while we trained with the Circle.." His voice broke a few times as he stumbled over an attempt to move past his last statement.

SilverFlight

 

[SilverFlight]

Pyrrhus agreed to wake him for the second shift and chuckled at the tail end of the comment.
"The life of a mercenary leaves a fair bit of room for friendships, however fleeting they may be. The same cannot be said for love. As, I suppose is similar for the life of a seafarer...or a pirate?"
It was a guess, Pyrrhus had had his suspicions about Roland's profession, but he made no indication of judgement.
He listened with a solemn respect while Roland divulged his thoughts about the night sky. "If she's in the stars, then I think her gaze stretches quite a bit farther than the doorstep of the ocean." Pyrrhus said quietly. If the centaur had any suspicions about Roland's magical inclination he didn't give them away.
"..You and Verity?" Pyrrhus raised an eyebrow, a curious smile played on his features. He left that question hanging in the air.
"I don't know much about the Circle beyond embellished legend. How do you get in? Have there been any centaur members?"

BugDozer73

 

[Zazz]

Azaria, too, took a bowl of hot stew and sat with it by the fire. She knew she would not sleep much until they reached the city. Eating slowly, so as not to upset her empty stomach, she listened for the crickets in the bushes and let the night air wash through her lungs. She did miss home. She missed the warmth of her mother's cooking, and the cozy blankets on her bed. But the halfling knew she was better off alone, out of Shylanora. Away from the discrimination and disdain. She liked to ne invisible, and in her home she was a sore eye. The memories she left behind were not worth remembering. And those that followed her felt like a burning curse in her heart.

The halfling turned over her drying clothes and listened as each member of their party turned in for the night. Her gaze fell upon the two men on the other side of the fire. Two very different men. One a sweet, loving, obnoxious centaur with a big heart, and the other a rockheaded twit with some fancy tricks. She wondered what Verity saw in the latter.

 

[Purize]

Verity perked up happily when Pyrrhus began offering around his soup. It smelled lovely and was heated to the touch. Even with the fire she felt chilled to the bone from being rained on nearly all day, but the soup make her feel warm and fuzzy inside. She sipped at the broth thankfully, making sure to nod her appreciation to Pyrrhus.

Faintly she could hear Roland and Pyrrhus holding their own conversation, she heard enough to gather that Roland was flustered about something. While she was curious, she was also exhausted. So, she stood once she finished her soup and quietly said goodnight to the small group. Her tent was close enough to the fire pit for Verity to stay cozy in her bedroll through the night. Just before she closed her heavy eyelids, she thought she saw Sylas... and his purple eyes glowing ominously among the shadows of the treeline.

 

[BugDozer73]

Roland said nothing about the Pirate comment, choosing instead to draw comfort from the fact that he had seemingly overlooked the slip up of his mother. at the mention of him and verity, his face grew a small shade of pink, accentuated by the light of the flames.

"What? No not like that. We are just friends; partners." Roland liked Verity, maybe a lot. But he was still focused on the future. And now with the skyline of Aeredale past the trees, his thoughts began to gravitate towards the Circle. Roland had heard stories from Greuwn, who had seemed rather fond of the organization.

"The Circle is the group of the most celebrated and talented warriors in all the lands. Greuwn once told me that there is a test to win a chance to train with them. I don't know what it is, but after one is "accepted", they go through a 6 month training program and are assigned to an older member as student of them. I don't think anyone can become a member before several years of training under an elder member. And for centaurs, I can actually remember one. It was a woman named Surana. She was an archer, one of the finest in the land. Greuwn told me she could hit the eye of a rabbit while running faster than a fire tipped sparrow." Roland smiled as he reminisced about Greuwn and his story times.

"It is getting late. Make sure you wake me for the second shift. And Pyrrhus.." Roland placed the empty bowl down and looked at the horse with seriousness. "Thanks- for everything. It is a loose invitation, but I hope that when we get to Aeredale that you might consider staying in our company."

And with that, Roland turned over and fell asleep, almost as soon as he closed his eyes.

The following morning, the sun rose early, and with it came the birds morning choir. The air was warm, like late spring, and filled with humidity from the storm the previous day. The stillness in the air was untouched as it lit up over the sleeping group.

 

[Zazz]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Breathe in. The doe paused in the quiet, dewy morning to graze in the shadows of the trees. Early morning crickets still chirped, creating the illusion of safety. The half-elf waited, silent, her leg stiff from crouching so still in the cover of berry bushes. The cuts in her hands burned against the taught string of her bow, a dark arrow notched, waiting for the perfect shot. Just a liiittle forward... Breathe out. Azaria stood as the doe staggered and fell, wincing at the stiffness in her leg. The arrow struck true; it pierced through the animal's heart. As the the halfling approached her kill, she murmured a prayer to Progenitis for the safe passage of its soul to the Void, and thanked Adamine for the gift of its life.

Azaria returned to camp, limping under the weight of the carcass slung over her shoulder. She arrived as the sun came up in the east and sat a few paces away to skin the dead doe while the others slept. From her pack, she procured a few eggs that she had stolen from a farm just on the other side of the trees. She had, of course, left the farmers a gold coin or two.

 

[Purize]

Verity woke early the next morning, feeling well rested, but sore all over. She sat up with a groan, a mess of silver hair strewn all around her. She rubbed her eyes and looked around the camp. The fire was still glowing faintly; someone must have tended to it during their watch. It didn't take Verity long to notice Azaria wasn't around, but Verity didn't worry too much. She knew the elf could handle herself and she'd likely be back soon.

A few minutes later Verity had all her things packed up and ready for the road as she waited for the others to rise. She refused to go around waking people up again. Turning, she saw Azaria walking back towards the campsite, deer in toe. Verity's eyes widened in surprise. "Whoa, so that's where you've been. Nice haul."

 

[Brendanfp]

The boy couldn't believe what he was witnessing. Were they kicking him out? How could they? What would happen to the Oracle, Ali needed to know. He grimaced as his stomach tied itself into knots. He watched as one of the priests gestured at him.

"Right then, I'll show you the way out. You've caused quite enough excitement for one evening," he remarked.

"I think not!" Ali retorted as he began a chant in a foreign harsh sounding language. Slowly the magi seemed to melt away into thin air, yet he had not moved. It was a higher form of illusion created by the demons to fool the other races. As the priest gawked at his disappearance Ali slipped in between them and turned the corner, where he saw Tieve being carried off too.

Around the corner laid the entrance to spiraling staircase crafted chiseled from cobblestone. The Ali assumed that the Oracles quarters were at the top of the staircase. Quickly he began to dash up the many steps still under the cover of illusion.

"Young master are you sure about this?" Bajir chimed.

"Sure as can be!" Ali said with confidence.

His pacing slowed as he rounded the final corner and stood in front of an enchanted wood door.

 

[Purize]

The Great Library had several towers and the whole structure was filled with confusing nooks and crannies... hidden away among them were Tieve's chambers. Her room was fairly large for one person and lavishly furnished. There were dressers, bookcases, a vanity, a water basin and huge bay windows with thin, fluttery curtains. However, the focal point of the room was the grand bed in the center. Upon it laid Tieve, a small pale form against the heavy dark blue and white covers. Brother Avery had come in earlier and sent away the other priests after checking on her condition, and then dismissed himself as well, so now the Oracle was alone in the dim room, lit only by candles and moonlight.

Her eyes opened slowly, staring up at the high ceiling that portrayed a painting of the constellations. She knew every one by heart and the fell asleep each night staring up at them, wondering how they compared to the real thing. Not that she'd never seen real stars before, or never been outside for that matter, but it was always brief. Tieve sat up slowly, her head buzzed faintly, but otherwise she felt fine. Images flashed before her as she remembered the events leading up to her blackout. Ali and his demon.

A shiver went through her, not wanting to think about the blips of horrific and ghastly things he had showed her. She wondered faintly how she had gotten back into her room and worried about Ali. No doubt the brothers were giving him an earful... or worse. Quickly, she sprang out of bed. What if they were going to arrest him? It hadn't been his fault afterall... that thing... No, she had to go find out what happened. She needed to talk to Ali the Magi again. She ran, barefoot to her dresser and shuffled through it for clothes. She didn't have anything that was durable... in fact most of her clothing was thin and gauzy and elegant. With a frustrated sigh, she threw on a simple dress. It was a pale lavender color with lace trims.

Her eyes passed briefly over the mirror across the room and she did a small pose, checking her appearance before turning to the door. She stopped, frozen as colors and light flashed before her eyes. She saw Ali running up the spiral staircase and halting. Through his eyes she could see her bedroom door, illuminated with soft colors, the mark of magic. She blinked, and the vision was gone. This was the present. Deliberately, She approached the door and placed her palm on the enchanted wood. With a creak, it lazily swung open, and sure enough... there stood the Magi.

 

[Melon Bomb]

As the party peeled away their covers some length from the riverbank, silhouettes began to shape over the horizon and form hazy black dots against the blended gold-violet of the dawn skyline. A convoy of wagons and an escort of several militiamen came into focus as they shared small talk with one another, the steady beating of hooves rumbling lightly through the earth. The soil was still soft from last night's shower, offering resistance to the caravans' old wheels as they pushed on through the mud.

The patrol captain raised his hand in a tight L-shape, signaling the convoy to slow to a halt as they gained on the waking encampment. They were resting off by the main road, so that likely meant. . .

"Crossed the river, did you?" he laughed hoarsely, lifting his faceplate as he glanced over the group of adventurers with a wry grin. "Look at you, all wrung out like towels. Just a short ways to Aeredale
thankfully - you are headed there, right? Never know these days."

Charlotte yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she blinked lazily up at the traveling guards. She had a good guess as to what they were doing here, but she figured she'd ask anyway. Like he said, you never know these days.

"You've got business out on the road?" she inquired, flattening out her clothes and taking care of the frizz in her locks. "What's the cargo?"

"Bah, you know. Last night word came in that the bridge is out, so we're sending men out to go build another one." He patted the weapon at his side, nodding spiritedly. "Hasn't been safe out lately - hell, it's never been safe out if you ask me - demon attacks and whatnot, they were a trickle last week but the reports aren't stopping." Then, he leaned in and squinted down at the group, looking thoughtfully as he stroked his stubble. "I'd be careful of strangers if I were you. Anyone who's too friendly. . . probably ain't your friend." There was silence as the tension stewed, but the man only threw his head back and laughed.

"Well, take it with a grain of salt!" he continued, unscrewing the cap on his flask and taking a swig. "Better safe than sorry, anyway."

Charlotte swallowed nervously, suddenly keenly aware of her position in this group of adventurers. She was no demon, certainly, but this man was running his mouth a little too long. . .

"Right. We'll keep that in mind, thank you for the warning."

 

[Brendanfp]

Ali stood before the door contemplating how he would undo the magical charm placed upon the wooden door. When it comes to magic Ali is a genius and the charm before him would be child's play to undue if he only had his former powers. The magi looked down at the iridescent scarab on his shoulder. No Bajir's sand magic wouldn't be helpful right now. As Ali contemplated his options the glistening door began to swing open on its own revealing a figure.

A red canary indiscriminately lands on the windowsill behind Tieve.

The door was open and Ali stood inches away from the Oracle, Tieve. She seemed to almost glow as a steady stream of heavenly moonlight illuminated her from behind. The magi stood in absolute awe. The sounds of unresting priest approached from behind him so he quickly stepped into the Oracle's closing the door behind her. Ali glances at Tieve finding himself trapped in her moonstone eyes.

The red canary on the windowsill adjust its position and inclines its head.

"Oracle... I mean Tieve... Look I don't really know what's gotten into me, but I can't just leave you here. So... and it may sound crazy... but how about you come with me and if you do... I'll show you the world."

The red canary begins to shine faintly before morphing into a fair-skinned crimson headed woman with less than subtle bosom.

"Wow, really smooth sand for brains. I'm gone for like half a day and you're already tryna kidnap the Oracle."