Fantasy TOTTDLMTH Episode 3 (Completed)

[Zariel]

──────────────────────────────────────
Irelia Sonan
──────────────────────────────────────
— The Dawnbringer —
​

Irelia ruminated on that which Ódhran had to say. Her crimson orbs shifted from the latter to the ligneous altar less than two dozen paces away.

"I see... so that's your answer," she responded impassively, silence filling the aperture between her words. A needle of culpability pricked Irelia's brooding, despite how long she'd known him, she had not previously been privy that Ódhran's involvement in the war was due to reasons beyond his disposition. It angered the Swordmaiden that her comrade was haled into a conflict against his choosing—but such is war's cruel nature. Irelia's mind cast back, recalling the wailing howls of death when war came knocking on her door. She fought not to extirpate what awaited in front of her, but because she cherished that which was behind her. But war changes people. It is inevitable.

"I'm disappointed..." Irelia said. "Chiefly in myself... Forgive me, Ódhran, I was not aware of your former convictions. It would seem our war shackled minds were remiss of one another, and for the reasons which we fought. One would like to think we are now free of those shackles... alas, it does not appear to be the case. It is a harsh truth, that when one chooses the path of the sword, bloodshed always lurks nearby."

Irelia sighed.

"But enough of that. I shall not bore you with any more blathering about what experience has taught me," the Swordmaiden added.

Her attention then quickly drew to Preston, who was tending to Kazan, the young pyromancer of the group. Irelia chuckled at the sight, amused by Preston's professionalism and Kazan's boisterous temperament.

"Preston could be a little more affable, though I suppose it's not out of character," she remarked, smiling. In the past, she too had been somewhat nervous around Preston, but after time she had warmed up to him, and she quickly learnt that he was a solemn individual that was deserving of respect. "Still, it is a relief that another one of our allies made it out of that place that has forsaken us in one piece."

After he finished giving his instructions to the pyromancer, Preston crossed Ódhran and Irelia, wishing them both a good night. Irelia returned a nod.

"Our doctor is right. Perhaps it is best if I leave you to get some rest, Ódhran. I surmise the journey that lies ahead will be a long one. And I have stolen enough of your time," Irelia advised. "On the other hand, I doubt whether I will able to indulge in repose... I cannot think to sleep when our enemies walk among us. I will not risk losing anyone else dear to me."

Irelia rose from her seat and looked down at Ódhran one final time.

"But I will not impose my burdens unto you. Rest assured, knowing I will be here to protect us," Irelia said earnestly, hand on heart. "Farewell, Ódhran."

Concluding her piece, Irelia bowed courteously before dismissing herself from the Islander's presence. The night was cold and dark, but Irelia prefered not to stay cooped within the dilapidated walls of an abandoned church. Her lungs desired to be soothed by a breath of fresh air. Perhaps a midnight stroll under the moonlight was in order.

 

[Funnier President]

Kazan Hi
Mood: I’m alive!…. So now what?
Mentions: Pilgrim59 , Worthlessplebian , Zariel , Larry

As Preston took her arm to check it for any scratches, she watched Sylvia walk away, presumably heading outside. Well, she guessed. As she waited for Preston to complete his examination of her scratches, her eyes strolled along the desolate church. It might have been beautiful once, but something had probably happened. Or maybe just age had torn this old place down. Besides, did it really matter? A broken thing was just that, broken.

She was interrupted from her brooding of the church (if they could be called that) be Preston telling her what to do for her injuries. She only had one question however. Why honey? She opened her mouth to respond, but Preston beat her to the punch, telling her that it was "an antibacterial substance." As Preston walked away, she offered a little wave, while wondering one thing. Where the heck was she suppose to find honey in an abandoned church, while it was snowing?

And she was alone. Well, she certainly had a lot to think about. Problem was, she didn't want to. She was kind of... well, not in a brooding mood? Scared of what she might think? Wow, the "fearless" Pyromancer now scared of thinking... life had really turned upside-down, huh? Meh..... looking around, she spotted Irelia leaving the area, leaving Ódhran alone.

Maybe time to catch up with old companions.

Waving with her right hand, she approached Ódhran.

"Hey Ódhran, how's fugitive life treating you? Still getting used to it myself- considering I just started it."

Just leave her thoughts for her future self- Simple enough, right?

​

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Sir Galious Meeples
interaction: Funnier President mention: Larry​

Galious was for now still rather aggravated For only recently had someone called HIM a frog and even now the infernal corvid hell-spawn mocked him with its incessant cawing the salamandrian sat slumped against the still black frame of his sentinel having already completed the modifications he wished to make there was little else for him to focus his mind upon. only that which annoyed him so greatly. It didn’t take too long for the pressure cooker of rage to burst once more when Galious heard a particular cheerful sounding voice ring out in the relative quiet of the church. Shooting up to his feet flames dancing behind his eyes and goofy expression whoever had spoken was unmistakably the one that had called him a frog. There was a woman Galious didn’t recognise approaching one of the other Iris company presumably she too was one of them. Marching towards her with clenched fists each step the diminutive Astarian made echoed a “pat pat” noise until he reached her with all his might kicked her in the back of the knee… fortunately Galious had very little might and was thusly ineffective at causing any harm at all much like a child attacking an adult but achieving little more then simply making themselves tired, Galious did it once more assuming this would get her attention. “SO YOUR HALF BLIND BUFFOON THAT CALLED ME A FROG DO I LOOK LIKE A FROG TO YOU“ galious squeaked angrily his face all pouty looking instead of showing the utter contempt he had for this woman. Rasing himself onto his toes as to look taller, “DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHO I AM? OF COURSE YOU DON‘T BECUSE NO ONE DOES ANYMORE NOW LISTEN CLOSELY FOR YOU ARE CERTAINLY HALD DEAF TOO“ galious paused his berating to take a deep breath “I. AM. NOT. A. FROG. I. AM. GALIOUS. MEEPLES“ sounding out each word loudly but In a slow and very deliberate manner clearly being condescending but his squeak cute tone made it lose much of its impact.

 

[Larry]

Ódhran von Starkenburg
Location: Abandoned Church, Anthem County, Haven.
Mood: Amused.
Mentions: Pilgrim59 | Worthlessplebian | Zariel .
Interactions: Funnier President | Huntertabbysandshark3 .​

Ódhran bowed his head as Irelia shifted herself from the pew, and thence out of the church. It seemed, to the islander, that Sylvia's mindset of feeling a burden to those around her had managed to seep into Irelia's mind as well. The young man sat for a moment, thinking back on the conversation he just had a few moments previously. It had been some time since he had such a down-to-earth conversation with another member of the Company. Yet, through the course of their talking, it became clear that even though they may have fought by each other's side in the war, their inner thoughts, like his own misgivings, weren't as forthcoming as maybe they ought to be. And indeed, if Irelia's parting comments were anything to go by, Ódhran imagined that his role would once again be that of a defendee, and not a defender. The idea drew a streak of ire from the young man, his brow furrowing in response to the scenario crossing his mind. In the conflict against Sertek and his Harbingers, his position was legally-prescribed and certain duties, as well as penalties, were inherent to that position. Now, there was no such injunction upon him; the hand of the law, however immorally, had been turned against him and his comrades. The time for him to be a bit more proactive, to be the one that others relied on, was now. That they faced an almost insurmountable task was well-grasped by Ódhran: that they should balk before the struggle, was not a thought he indulged.

It was in the shadow of this new attitude that the islander heard the sounds of footsteps drawing closer; with a quick swivel of his head, Ódhran, with a degree of muted surprise, found Kazan, or Kazzy as he liked to call her, strolling up to him. A nonchalant question about was asked, very much in her manner, and the islander smirked in response. "It has been quick and uncompromising Kazzy," he replied, a glad countenance being effected by the presence of his bubbly companion, "I'm glad to see that you've made your way to our temporary HQ...relatively, unharmed." The emphasis was apt, as Ódhran examined his colleague's appearance, noticing a rolled-up sleeve, which displayed a forearm marked by numerous cuts. The young man winced at the sight of them. You would think for a man that had marched across numerous battlefields, strewn with corpses brought to their cadaveric state by countless, gruesome means, that a few little cuts would be nothing for him. Perhaps it was the time spent in ministration that had weakened his stomach to the sight of such things. Either way, the islander carefully cupping her forearm, his left thumb resting on her carpus as he turned the Fire Mage's arm over, to see if there were any more that needed to be treated.

"I would like to think that Preston might have given you advice about how to treat these," he said, confident in his arachnid companion's prowess, "If not, you should. The last thing you'd want now is to see these gets infected."

Letting go of his comrade's forearm, Ódhran was about to ask Kazan how she had gotten here, were it not for the oncoming, and strikingly determined, march of the Harbinger, Galious, towards the pair. With a final step that had him standing behind Kazan, the salamandrian reared his right leg back, with great intent, and landed a kick on the back of the Fire Mage's knee. He repeated the strike a few more times, with Ódhran watching in amazement, only for Galious to give up on his endeavour, the task obviously doing little more than to irritate him. It was at this moment that the Harbinger unleased a tirade against Kazan, who, as it promptly became known to Ódhran, was the one who had called him a 'frog' only a few minutes previously. Even out of sight and earshot, Kazzy always seems to bring a spark to wherever she finds herself, the islander inwardly mused to himself. With as peremptory a conclusion as one could present for one's case, in this instance, the Harbinger's insistence on not being called an amphibian of any kind, Galious quietened down as he awaited Kazan's response.

"It seems my friends has caused you a great deal of offense Sir Meeples. What might be done to remedy this?" Ódhran asked, just a wee bit jokingly.

 

[Funnier President]

Kazan Hi
Mood: "FROG FRO- OW FROG!"
Interactions: Larry , Huntertabbysandshark3

"Well, quick isn't exactly how I would describe it- but not like that really matters"

As she spoke, she noticed Ordhans eyes shifting over to the cuts on her arm- She seriously forgot to roll up the sleeve? The cuts weren't to bad though- As he held her arm to look over the cuts, she wondered why he seemed to wince so much- they weren't even that bad! (again) In response to Orphans question, she replied.

"Yeah, he did- Ill get all of the stuff I need in a bit"

Hold on a second.... what was that? There was a "pit-pat" sound- but where would that be coming from? Unless it was raining, but snow dint turn to rain in a instant, she wasn't a- hey, what was that? She felt something briefly connect with the back of her- no hurting exactly, but still annoying. Was it a bug? And the- Seriously? She felt another small blow connect with her irrupting her even more.

Turning around, she came face-to face with.... oh hey, the frog guy from earlier!

"Hey little gu--"

She didn't even get to finish greeting the adorable frog before it started..... well, asking her trick questions.

"Yes, you do look a frog.. An adorable one though!"

Wrong answer. The little guy kept berating her (He was still so adorable tho! Although calling her deaf lost a few brownie points for him). And introduced himself as Galious Meeples. (While screaming adorably all the while!) Ordhan intervened to ask what might done to remedy her calling him a frog, and she just nodded along.

"Ill just call you Meeps, little guy. So..... want me to catch you a fly?"

Dramatically stretching her arms wide (and ignoring the little stings of pain) she continued her "apology"

"A biiiiiig one! I can also dispose of any salt near you- wait does the salt-being-a-killer-thing work on you? Or like, it doesn't work on frogs in general? I though I heard about salt being a death sentence to frogs- or snails maybe? It doesn't matter, because no salt shall get near you, Meeps!"

She though it was a pretty swell offer herself. I mean, no salt and a free fly should be enough to say sorry, right?

​

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Sir Galious Meeples
interaction: Funnier President Larry​

Galious awaited the response of the belligerent woman, yet each time he tried to make a very distinctive point the woman rebutted with continuing to refer to him as a frog. It was needless to say but Galious was absolutely livid for she'd then assigned him a nickname looking over at the male who had addressed him correctly so good start, of Course behind the goofy smile and squeaking voice was pure rage distilled into a tiny gecko yet Galious wasn't really in the mood to keep yelling it was clear by the woman's insistence on referring to him as a frog her skull was far too thick for sense to be distilled into it. "Well I could-" Galious was interrupted by the woman babbling complete nonsense about salt and flys leading to the salamandrian givings her a death stare that ended up looking goofy before he addressed both of them. "People like you... the way you act.. are why I wanted to see the world burn..." for onxe Galious tone was less comedic and genuinely serious for once even if it was just a moment. "As for what you can do to remedy this grave insult... I'd perfert sherbert or some type of candy over an insect... again IM not a frog..." Galious contuied abd letting out a small chirp as he'd shake the woman's arm just a little but trying to crush her hand... it didn't really do anything for galious's hands are small and not very strong.

 

[Larry]

Ódhran von Starkenburg
Location: Abandoned Church, Anthem County, Haven.
Mood: Trying to be conciliatory.
Mentions: Pilgrim59 | Worthlessplebian .
Interactions: Funnier President | Huntertabbysandshark3 .​

The islander felt that this conversation, with overt obliviousness on the part of Kazzy, and Galious' increasing lividity, was bound to continue in the same vein of unintended insults and possibly-enforced threats if Ódhran were to allow it to continue. Still, the uniquity of the situation was not lost on the young man. An Iris Companion and a Harbinger, mortal enemies during the war, that, if they had come across each other in peace time, might have fought to the death once again, in order to see their hatred for each other settled; now, despite both their misunderstanding of the other, two members of these respective factions were conversing. Given the challenge with which they now must contend, with all of Haven's might arrayed against them, this feeling, if not quite the form that manifested between Kazzy and Galious, was something all of them would need. Nonetheless, Ódhran felt, that after their mournful loss of Laure against the Vulture, some levity, however brief, was something that he, and no doubt everybody else, needed. Even if it were for a moment, however trifling it may seem, it was purposeful enough for the young man to take his mind off of more sombre matters. It was in that very moment of thought that Galious, out of nowhere, decried both his and Kazzy's way of action as the reason why he wanted the world to burn. The squeakiness of the salamandrian's voice, coupled with the severity he no doubt wished the statement to carry, was enough to caused the islander to turn on his heel and face away from the two of them. Don't laugh, don't laugh, don't laugh, he thought to himself, mantric-like, as his mouth quivered and contorted in an attempt not to chuckle.

Having stood there for a few moments, no doubt drawing a few inquisitive looks from both Kazzy and Galious, he turned back to them, his mouth twitching as Galious' statement revolved around in his mind. As he calmed down, with two large inhalations, Galious pepped up that in order to provide some kind of recompense for Kazzy's insult, that they should find him sherbert or some other kind of sweet. It seems that such a demand was beyond his power at this time. "I think as it stands, Sir Meeples, our capacity to furnish you with any sherbert is lacking," Ódhran said, assuming a formal air unexpectedly, "Is there anything else that we could do?" Conscious of the fact that Preston was nearby, trying to rest, given how taxing the battle was in the sewers for him especially, the islander felt it best that they leave the inside of the church, whilst staying in its environs, so as to not disturb the others who were resting at the time.

"Perhaps, you two," he began, adopting something of a semi-serious tone, "We can continue the rest of this conversation outside?"

 

[Funnier President]

Kazan Hi
Mood: "Mission: Talking to Frog Complete!"
Interactions: Larry , Huntertabbysandshark3

As she finished her masterful bargaining (well, wondering if-salt-was-a-killer talk). Meeps replied, as adorable as even (even if it was suppose to sound menacing, but it probably wasn't.)

"If your going to burn the world, can we at least save the frogs?

It was a valid question! Looking at Ordhan however, he seemed too... well, there was quite a few reasons why he might not be facing them. Allergic to frogs (probably not- Was that even a thing?), Wondering why this was his life, Anyways, back to frog! As Meeps asked for some candy/sherbert, her mind instantly flashed to Eryn. Should be easy enough to get some candy from him- he practically lived on the stuff. As Ordhan (when did he get so formal?) said that they couldn't exactly pull Sherbert out of their hats. (Ok, she was paraphrasing-)

"Don't worry, I can get some canddddddddy! Yeesh, I sound like some sort of kidnapper- But don't fret, candy shall become yours, Meeps!

And then Ordhan asked if they could continue this outside. Stifling a yawn (not intended to be rude) she suddenly realized how tired she was. More things had happened today for her then in the past month (Ok, a little over exaggerating) and running/walking through the woods hadn't helped. And there was a whole other plethora of thoughts that mentally weighed a ton. And the cuts.....

Rolling up her sleeve slightly, she experimentally bopped the closest one, and winced at the sparks of pain that shot upwards. Yeah, maybe get that honey now- Not to leave Ordhan and Meeps hanging, she turned back to them

"Well, unless Meeps wants a fly, I think we're doneish I guess- Im just going to go grab some stuff for the cuts I got, the Wagon thing should be easy enough to find."

Managing a small smile, she turned to Ordhan.

"See ya later, alligator"

Stuffing her hands into her pockets, she walked out, heading outside the church. She was easy enough to spot, heading to the wagon that resided nearby. Climbing inside, she took a look around, trying to remember what Preston had told her about how to treat the cuts. Water was easy enough- but she honestly was too tired. Flopping down on the closest chair, she just tried to figure out how to make sure little spikes of pain weren't shooting up her arm. Part of her was being passive-aggressive about getting all of the things she needed, to not just laze around, but she was just done with today. It was just an overload, just... too much.

Within a few sleepy blinks, the magma mage fell asleep.​

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Sir Galious Meeples
interaction: Funnier President Larry​

Galious just stared at both Kazan and Ódhran. Mainly at Ódhran who had turned away at his very very serious threatening statement.... wait was he trying not to laugh? this further enraged Galious on the inside yet he knew that nothing he’d do would actually change this. “Ok then fine… we can save the frogs..“ galious mumbled annoyed especially about how there was no candy to be provided. “Really no candy… I’m.. ug this day couldn’t ger any worse” Galious huffed. but it seemed Kazan was done finally leaving him a brief reprieve until the raven decided it was a great time to land next to galious and caw incessantly at hI’m. “See what I mean… the world, hates me and sends birds and thick skulled mages to hound me, I just don’t understand why” Galious’s rage turned to a sadness the salamandrians pouty face looking up at Ódhran much like a child would if it was pleading for an adult to do something for them. “What have I even done… nevermind…“ he’d mumble again the raven stoping it’s noises to go sit on Galious’s sentinel like the flying sleak oily rat thing it was.

 

[Soviet Panda]

Fealca Isern​

Fealca was loathe to admit it, but once he had gotten into the Conestoga and sat down on the downy soft chair, all of the events leading up to this point had caught up to him and he promptly fell asleep. With his arms crossed and chin resting against his chest, Fealca napped until they reached the abandoned church, and then napped some more. And when he awoke, it was with a start. Rubbing away some dream, or perhaps nightmare, from his eyes he observes his surroundings. It was just as they had been when he had begun his slumber, though this time it was much emptier. The only soul other than his was the unconscious form of the Dreamweaver. Giving her a quick glance to make sure she was still alive and breathing without difficulty, he got up with a groan and made for the entrance of their procured wagon.

There was an abandoned church, the decrepit house of some forgotten god. And it had begun to snow. Just like...

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

"General Fealca, we cannot be slowed here. Sertek has given his orders, we are to..."

"I know our orders, Haydn, however there is the small matter of the Tsaritsyn forces blocking us and refusing to move from their position. Perhaps an example is in order. If they wish to test their guns against ours, let them see how utterly pathetic they are in comparison. Awaken Lord Gallious' machines and have them fire upon the last known position of the enemy's artillery. I will adjust fire as I see fit, and the shelling shall cease when I see fit."

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

Fealca shook the memory from his head. That was the past, the long dead past. He hoped he was a better man than the one from that memory. He had given that up, had become a respectable businessman in Dragonsreach and fending off Mrs. Seolfur and her seemingly endless line of potential suitors for him. Ah, but that to was the past. Sertek had returned, and once more called upon him and the other Harbingers. And he had answered that call. Out of obligation? Fear? He was not so certain himself, but he could not turn back now.

'I should send a missive to Mrs. Seolfur and give her ownership of my shop. It's what she's always been after anyways, it will at least end up in good hands.' he thought sullenly to himself as he began to walk around their makeshift encampment. He saw Galious speaking with an Iris member and looking rather sullen about it, with another walking away, looking to be in search of a reasonably soft place to lay her head. Though he wanted to go and comfort the small Salamadarian, it would no doubt be taken as an offense. And so he moved on, deciding it best to patrol the outskirts. He was not tired, so he was perhaps the best one suited for doing so.

On his ambling route, he noticed another figure. She was not exactly hidden, much like himself he was sure, and easy to track. She looked familiar, and a name surfaced.

"Irelia, wasn't it?" He said, just loud enough to be heard and not a breath more.

Interaction: Zariel

 

[Pilgrim59]

3A-II:
Frostival​

Under a tattered roof, by Aerilia's grace, the Iris Companions and Harbingers found refuge. The drifting snowstorm failed to wash away their own troubled bodies and souls. Yet, despite being outnumbered and demoralized, they hung onto their personal faith in their keepers. Torn between the blatant truth and the false detractions, what is worth of their shaky pact is yet to be seen. As a new morning dawns, their future awaited them. Upon that wagon resided their opportunity to right the wrongs not of their doing. Movement would become their lifeline.

The hero, having rediscovered her own zeal, decided to compartmentalize her personal grievances. By spilling her own sorrows to Sertek through the stormy night, Sylvia found her much-needed distraction. Even so, she kept her distance with the Daemon Lord. The Daemon Lord, on the other hand, found that he was short of everything expected of him. The once feared ruler of the void was now nothing more than an uncertain man, of whom was unsure of his place in this world.

As these two and their sympathetic compatriots fathom their disposition, the colorful banners of the nearby town of Troyes signaled the opening of the annual Frostival. Despite the attention cast upon the fugitives, even the most upstanding citizen must learn to abide by the festivities. For the heroes and villains, this was their opportunity to sneak past the lax patrols and be well on their way to Reisdorf. Low on supplies, whatever Sertek and Sylvia could salvage from the church was scant at best. Meanwhile, the Harbinger Hershey has yet to awaken from her deep slumber, while Companion Eryn's treatment became limited due to their dwindling inventories. Troubled over these developments, Sylvia and Sertek devised a plan to move on and forage what they can along the way.

Worthlessplebian Doctor Nope Zariel Larry Celestial Speck ElenaIsCool Soviet Panda Huntertabbysandshark3
xAlter Funnier President Nessi Remembrance​

Sertek
Abandoned Church, Anthem County

Sylvia
Abandoned Church, Anthem County
Interacted: Remembrance
Mentioned: N/A ​

What seemed like a heartful exchange of intricate minutiae from the night before had vanished, as Sylvia finally got on her feet. Her eyes were as frigid as the hallowed ground around her. The last thing she recalled was her discussion of Morthorian flightless birds with Sertek before her fatigue finally took a hold of her. What was certain, however, was a particular blanket upon her shoulders. She reckoned there was only person to have done so, and that very person had emerged from the backside of the church with a closed pan in his hands. The fruity aroma invited the curious hero over. Under the drowsy twilight of the 'morrow dawn, the hero gathered her strength.

"Aren't you up early." Sylvia remarked as they stumbled upon one another.

"I can say the same about you." Sertek replied.

An awkward silence prolonged, before Sertek lifted his occupied hands slight upwards.

"Well, breakfast's about to be done. Granola and whatever the woods got to offer."

"Sounds good. Hey-... I..." she hesitated.

"Yes?"

"It's nothing. Carry on." she concluded, shifting the door slightly.

Sertek smiled slightly, as he carried the pan inside.

Within the confines of the church, where it was absent of the frigid wind, Sertek settled down his recipe. When he uncovered the lid, the pan unveiled several rolled-up bars of oats and berries, held together by honey. Sylvia gave Sertek a look, curious as to how he could procure such a treat.

"Go ahead. Try one. Rise and shine, folks. Breakfast is served." he replied, before she could even ask, then invited the others. As he did, Sertek simultaneously procured a kettle of tea to complement their meal.

Sylvia took the first bite, even if her body was used to running on an empty stomach for days during the war. Much to her delight, the warm granola melted in her mouth - permeating a sharp sweetness with a hint of roasted berries. While the hero was fighting the urge to gobble it all down, Sertek, on the hand, was glad the hero enjoyed his recipe.

"So, what is the plan this day? Eryn won't be able to make it to Reisdorf at this stage. Hershey is also out cold. We need medical and rations." Sertek inquired, prompting Sylvia to open up the map she had found last night.

"Immediately, yes. I can't have the Companions waltzing into a town without alerting the entire county."

"They have yet to identify the Harbingers by face thus far. The Companions should stay with the Conestoga. The Harbingers will gather from the surrounding population."

"There is a lumbermill south of here. Maybe they'll have something for us."

"Maybe. It is Frostival, I'm sure they'll be generous enough to spare some bread."

"We will also need to disguise ourselves."

"Even so, without identification, even the common troopers are equipped with grozite lens. Those checkpoints will be troublesome. Especially this town here. Last I heard before we left Dragonsreach, a regiment is reeling back from the Ortolan to Bussy-Sezanne." Sertek noted, as he brushed over the map.

"Then I suppose we should head directly for the Traveller's Camp. Hopefully, they'll have what we need." Sylvia pointed out their next destination.

Being an iconic figure of the war, however, had its adverse expectations. Both Sylvia and Sertek knew this. While they did not say it, the Hero and the Daemon Lord nonverbally agreed on one thing. They cannot afford to be divided now, especially when they have two companions out of commission. The Traveller's Camp beyond the southern woods seemed to be their best bet. Perhaps they could even trade some information without alerting the local law enforcements. Once they have finished breakfast, they would be on the road once again.

Having squared away her share of the meal, Sylvia paced herself towards the altar. While she did not get on her knees, she showed her respect by restoring the broken crest to its proper facing. Having done so, she laid her hand over the altar and muttered to herself, before turning away. Sertek turned towards the comatose Dreamweaver, as he carried her towards the wagon. Rounding up their stay at the empty church, it was time for them to continue their journey. Perhaps their fateful sojourn was christened encouragement from Aerilia herself. Religious or not, they cannot deny the grace that Aerilia had shown them over the night.

Sylvia turned towards the All-Maker preacher, voicing their next destination while curious of his personal journey.

"Some higher power have let you to us, under Aerilia's shades. We will be heading southward towards the Traveller's Camp. We can give you a ride there, if you wish."

 

[Doctor Nope]

Eryn Leasath Cissnei
Location: ???
Objective: Survive

​

Amongst his fever dreams was a memory of a similar location to where his real self was. An abandoned church, amidst a freezing blizzard, some time before he was invited to join the Iris Company. He stood over the splattered brains of the foe he'd just dispatched, watching the crimson drip from his deformed gun barrel. Grozium-compatible firearms were so hard to come by, and he was unlikely to be able to get new ones anytime soon, so this one being rendered unsafe to use by his bludgeoning and blade parrying was a real shame.

As he tossed the ruined weapon away and wiped the blood from his mouth with his sleeve, he heard the satisfying snap of another foe to his side, which had been hoisted up in the air and strangled by the H2 Gauntlet. Or rather, the Mk.II Gauntlet. The Mk.XIII Gauntlets wouldn't see use until after he joined Iris. This Gauntlet was bulky, with awkward proportions, inefficient grozium battery requirements, and only two tendrils housed under his forearm with claw-like grabbers at the end. The batteries sparked out and the enemy dropped dead.

He looked on to the rest of the battlefield, white snow stained red with the carnage that had taken place at his hand. All for the sake of defending some church that had been deemed a necessary strategic point in the town, his comrades waiting inside. One by one they'd been injured, treated by Eryn, and retreated into the church's basement until eventually, the medic was the only one left fighting.

In the distance he heard the charging footsteps of yet another enemy wave. Resources expended, he was unlikely to be able to halt this one alone. He wouldn't have to, though. A certain other company would soon arrive to provide his relief, led by an elegant lancer that'd save the morale of his squadmates with her mere presence.

Eryn Leasath Cissnei
Location: Abandoned Church, Anthem County
Interactions: Pilgrim59
​

He was awoken by the solid 'THUNK' his body made when it rolled off the pew and onto the ground. Shakily rising, he recovered his hat and placed it back onto his head, making sure the candy packs were still secure beneath, and dusted his cloak off. Rough impact aside, his head still hurt and he struggled to keep his vision focused. He looked down at his shaking hand, verifiying that no damage had been done to the H2 Mk.XV Gauntlets. Those...were the gauntlets he was wearing, right? His vision blurred and cleared over and over, each time alternating between the Mk.II of his dream and the Gauntlets of the present day.

Hearing his commander's comment about him in the background, he began to make his steps. One foot in front of the other. Not so hard. Sylvia reached the altar that his pew had been near, allowing him to speak more easily.

"I appreciate your concern over me, Commander, but you don't have to treat every minor physical setback of mine like a life-threatening ailment.." his groggy yet soft voice let out. Even with his current frustrations, he wouldn't let himself seem ungrateful. Despite his stubbornness, gratitude was apparent in his tone.

"..I can still slay whatever you require me to.."

He reached the one he percieved as Rael, only now starting to process the information that this gentle man was actually Sertek. It was hard to associate that name with that kind disposition, which made it a bit easier for Eryn to recieve breakfast from him.

 

[Pilgrim59]

Sertek
Abandoned Church, Anthem County

Sylvia
Abandoned Church, Anthem County
Interacted: Doctor Nope
Mentioned: N/A ​

Having offered a ride to the lone preacher, Sylvia turned over to Eryn, of whom had voiced his well-being. The hero meant more than simply concerning herself over the little things that her companions could clearly handle. Especially now when they were up against a most cunning and powerful enemy, while being pitched against the might of the Imperial Armed Forces.

"I may have been overly-concerned for your well-being. Bend as you may, but do not break on me. I refuse to let Laure's fate befall you all." she remarked to Eryn.

"Perhaps that comatose Dreamweaver as well." she added, showing some sympathy for Hershey.

Having said her piece, Sylvia stepped outside and sought to bring the Conestoga about. Exchanging places, Sertek reentered the church and eyed the surgeon.

"Hey, you're up. Go ahead and eat up. I made some extras for the road ahead as well. Don't be shy." Sertek said to Eryn, pouring the man a cup of tea.

"Once we get to the camp, we'll see about getting your fix and then some. Don't you worry none." he concluded, patting Eryn on their shoulder softly before turning towards the entrance.

As if by instincts, Sertek found himself marching towards the stained glass that depicted Aerilia in vibrant colors. Driven by curiosity and perhaps some sort of familiarity, the man eyed the icon briefly. Now that he had some time to himself, the Daemon Lord contemplated his existence. There was some sort of light that drew him to the Creator. Even now, his hand trembled, when he ought to remain still. His memories drifting further away as he tried to make sense of them. All that he had was an unspoken purpose upon an indecipherable knowledge. It seemed as if he was picking at a door's lock, while the windows are open. There was some particular history behind those doors that he needed to know. Names spiraled around his head as if they were meant to be something more than just that. Sertek ruminated the extents of his powers. The time he first unleashed his strength at the Starline Magecraft Institution kept him speculating his potentials. Surely, he was drawing power from the Aethers like any ordinary Groznyan. What exactly made him an outstanding and infamous figure throughout history? Even when Hershey had given him an objective of seeking after these armor shards that would bring about his true strength, Sertek can not help but wonder if there were some secret beneath these seemingly mundane shards? Sertek raised his arm and took a deep breath.

So far, the shard inside him felt akin to that of an augmented memory vessel. A hologram projector without context, as it perpetuates certain scenes and circumstances not of his doing. A surrogate experience to be in the voiceless mind of a grand schemer - devoid of any actual scheme. What was certain was that he still held firmly onto his unshaken feelings for Sylvia. There was, however, an uncertain disturbance in his mind. Sylvia's figure seemed to be different than who he saw during the war. While he has yet to settle on the timeline, he saw a completely different Sylvia. The Angel of Verdan, so gloomy yet so beautiful. His memories greyed out by clouded visions of reality and lucid dreams. Her current silhouette had taken on the form of someone else. An oddity that only he saw it as such, of which would otherwise be deemed a normality. Perhaps it was the shard's influence that gave him these senses, or perhaps it was eating away at his soul. For better or for worse, Sertek came to realize that he had to learn to control his powers.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Preston Saytzeff Pacer, Preston of Met Di Plurida
Mentions: Pilgrim59 Doctor Nope
Location: Abandoned Church, Anthem County, Haven.

The minute intricacies of Preston's physiology tells him that the warmth of morning suns has graced this land. As before, it took nought but minutes for Preston's metabolism to accelerate. His eight eyes, once paralysed of their own will, now registered again. The dilapidated church was not the sight that Preston wished to see but one that he must. Unlike regular spiders, Arachnoids have their guts concentrated in one place, much like a Solarian. This thought of intestines that wormed its way into Preston's mind happened because his stomach just roared a mighty need for food. Slowly but assuredly, Preston began moving his chitinous limbs. Raising his arms first, creaking while reaching into the air. Next, his legs. Grabbing the wall with his hands, he kicked into the air. No waiting for the creakiness to go away this time.

A simple hop off the wall and, Preston was on the dusty, withered floor. His three remaining spear limbs began to violently spazz out while the stump just moved in vain. They were contorting, twisting, and contorting in almost unnatural ways. The way one would not expect a limb, even as spindly as these, to move. They receded their spasms after a solid minute. It was time for breakfast... Ah, but wait! Preston thought to himself. Wound cleaning comes first. Carefully the Spider reached over to the antiseptic web patch on his stump. His clawed hands peeled away the webbing not dissimilar to a band-aid. Even now, it still pained him. But Preston would rather choose to be clean than comfortable.

His inner ear managed to pick up the chatter of somebody talking about sustenance. Oh, it was Sertek's voice. The Spider felt disappointed, mostly likely he made breakfast. As much as Preston hated the man, the situation calls for him to lower his guard. At least partially.

Plus that fragrance of honey did tickle Preston's nose sweetly. He walked over to the pot, observing these... sticks of oats, berries, and that golden filling. Picking one up with his claws, Preston observed it. Investigating it like a scalpel. He shrugged. His faceplate peeled back, revealing the nasty grin of jagged teeth. A single bite. And an explosion of flavour and changing textures. It burned him with shame to admit that he liked it.

He noticed that Sertek had been standing over at the stained glass. With Eryn closeby, he surmised that Eryn spoke with Sylvia and Sertek at the same time even though the other was missing. Swiftly with granola in hand, Preston found himself alongside Eryn. One hand landed on his shoulder and gave a quick nod. He merely messaged him that he'll be back. Preston then continued, walking as silently as the shadows, to Sertek. Behind him, Preston addressed. "I see you are lost in thought, Daemon Lord." Taking another bite out of his granola bar.

 

[Larry]

Odhrán von Starkenburg
Location: Abandoned Church, Anthem County, Haven.
Mood: Content, after a good rest.
Mentions: Huntertabbysandshark3 | Funnier President | Doctor Nope | Pilgrim59 | Worthlessplebian .
Interactions: n/A.​

Odhrán awoke from his sleep, ensconced, cocoon-like, in a blanket on the pew where he had such a heart-bearing talk with Irelia. The islander cast his mind back to the night before, specifically after Kazan had left for the Conestoga, owing to her exhaustion after having marched to their makeshift HQ, notwithstanding the wounds she had received in her egression from Dragonsreach. Left alone with Galious, the pair happened upon a secluded grove where they found themselves discussing, amongst a variety of other things, how they both ended up in the war. Knowing his own reasons were very much out of his hand and had little to do with motivation, Odhrán was curious as to the salamandrian's reasons behind why he joined Sertek's forces. He didn't know what to expect when it came to Galious' joining the Daemon Lord's forces; was he forced into conscription as Odhrán was, or did he willing join the war effort? The young man awaited with keen interest. So, when the islander learned that Sir Meeples had pledged his powers to Sertek's cause, the latter being quite interested in golemancy, in the aftermath of levelling his village, since the residents had been quick to mock him, he was quite perplexed. Even though he had admitted to Irelia only a short time ago that he held little hate in heart for the Harbingers, upon hearing of Galious' exploits, it re-affirmed to him that, though little, there was still a sliver of animosity for these people.

The conversation continued on from there, with the salamandrian ending up talking about some incident some thirty seven years-ago, which Odhrán, hearing in disbelief, quickly stopped him from continuing. "Stop fibbing Galious, how old are you, really?" the islander asked in earnest, "I'm 69," the instant, squeakily said response. The golemancer prattled on thereafter but the islander's head was somewhere else, still struggling to comprehend that Galious was nearly four decades older than him. Even as they parted for their respective parts of the church to sleep in, Odhrán mind was abuzz with how incontiguous it all seemed. He was screeching at a bird, he thought to himself gravely, his chin resting on interlaced fingers, arms supported by his knees, he lost his bearings at a teenager calling him a frog...he's not 69. If anybody were to have passed him in the throes of sleep, they might have heard Odhrán somniloquy "I refuse to believe..." with a frown on his pale brow.

The former secretary grinned in remembering the episode, before turning his head around to the source of the piquant smell wafting through the church. Putting on his glasses, it seemed that Sertek had took it upon himself to procure breakfast for the hybrid group, Odhrán overhearing that it consisted of granola and whatever berries the immediate vicinity had to offer. Eryn, still injured to the point where he was operationally unfit, voiced his protest that his injuries were not so serious as to render him infeasible for the mission set out by the joint-commanders; Sylvia set out her steadfast aim of protecting him, sombrely saying that Laure's fate would not befall him, and Sertek, trying to encourage him, promised that the medic would be treated soon enough and that in the meantime, he ought to eat and regain some strength. The islander smirked, adjusting his spectacles: who would have ever pictured the millennia-old Daemon Lord reduced to a cook? He then watched as Preston, his maw making short work of the granola held tight within his grip, stand behind Sertek and mutter something to Syvlia's husband.

Turning away from the commotion for a moment, Odhrán gazed up at the alter, basking in the sunlight.

This might be the last peaceful morning he would enjoy for some time.

 

[Huntertabbysandshark3]

Sir Galious Meeples
interaction: mention: Funnier President Larry Pilgrim59​

Galious awoke snuggly sleeping in his sentinel however his rude awakening was caused by the raven squeaking even more at him as if to continue to spite the salamandrian. Though the conversation he‘d had with the man known as Odhrán, had been… somewhat enlightening to say the least. galious felt a bit of sympathy for Odhrán as the man had more or less just been dragged into the war and there current situation. Only thing that irked him was the face he’d not believed Galious’s age. But then again he didn’t exactly look his age.

sniffing the air he‘d smile as the smell of honey drifted through the air he‘d pull himself out of metallic shell and jumping down into the floor passing the alter avo any eye contact with the Iris company that happened to be there especially the so called “angel“ while they where stuck together it didn’t mean she deserved any respect for someone as great as himself. The source of the smell was quickly identified, Breakfast, some sort of granola bar thing, not that Galious cared much, taking one and rather quickly scoffing it down taking little time to savour the taste. “hu, for all his good as a leader sertek is a surprisingly good cook” Galious mumbled quietly. the Golemancer sensed things could only get stranger from here on out, that bird was the herald for some much bigger he was convinced he it blackwatch, Squarebacks or something else entirely. “Right so we should probably get going soon no use moping about in this place for any longer” Galious chirped not really talking to anyone in particular but voicing his opinions none the less.

 

[xAlter]

Caenis Vasilias Koimamai
Location: Abandoned Church - Anthem County, Haven
Interactions: Huntertabbysandshark3 Worthlessplebian Nessi Pilgrim59
Mentions: Larry

Excusing himself from his conversation with Angelica, Caenis had decided to take a walk outside before he decided to sleep for the night. The stars glistened and shimmered across the backdrop of a black sky. He took a moment to stare, and consider. His life was one of twists and turns, of changes and stagnations, but he knew he wouldn’t have it any other way. Standing out there, in the cold winter chill, Caenis turned and walked back into the ruined church. Already some of his companions, both Harbinger and Iris, had already let Sleep’s embrace claim them. Making his way back to his belongings, Caenis dropped back on the pew and closed his eyes. Slumber quickly followed him.

Morning quickly came, a little too fast, and Caenis woke up early. Stretching, and moving softly to not wake or alert others, Caenis once more made his way outside of the church again. A light jog wouldn’t hurt, and even if he was now a fugitive on the run, having consistency would help ease his mind. His footsteps carried him around the property of the church a few times, and before long, he heard the sound of the others stirring awake inside. Deciding to wait a bit, Caenis sat on the stairs of the entrance and opened his notebook. Penning a quick note, Caenis made his way over the sleeping Hassan and tucked the piece of paper into his crossed arms. The scent of food quickly drew him back inside.

Passing Sylvia on her way out, Caenis gave her a nod before making his way over to the food. He saw Preston and Sertek speaking by one of the windows depicting Aerillia. He nearly scoffed at the thought of such devotion and worship, but stopped when he thought of his own idolization of the Demon Lord. He didn’t give much to religion, believing the stories and tales to be no more than that, stories and tales. Grabbing a bar of granola, Caenis began to eat.

He once more began walking to the front of the church again, ready to gather his things. He gave Galious a pat on the shoulder, wondering if the golemancer remembered him. He supposed it didn’t matter. Stopping next to Odhran, his own gaze locked on the altar, Caenis spoke. “I never really put too much effort into religion. A lot of believing in things we don’t even know exist. If I say, was to witness something in the flesh to change my mind, maybe.” Going quiet again, Caenis let a comfortable silence fall over them.

“It’s good to see you, Odhran.”

 

[ElenaIsCool]

Bisila Nzo

Abandoned Church - Anthem County, Haven

Interacting With:
Pilgrim59
Worthlessplebian

Mentions:
Funnier President
Huntertabbysandshark3
xAlter

Bisila would say that she had a rather eventful night, mostly spent watching the interactions between Kazan and Galious with a cup of tea and a glint of amusement on her eyes with the occasional comment to spite her little gecko companion and then almost spilling the nature of Caenis's job as a joke, overall just kind of watching from the sidelines. It took her a few hours of staring at the roof and thinking before sleep took over.

She wasn't a dreamer, she rarely had dreams. Most of the time she just slept and woke up as if very little time had passed, so her surprise of waking up in a dark space was evident. The place was pitch dark and seemed to be an endless space, it was also quiet in an uncomfortably eeriee way except for the sound of her own breathing.

"How nice. The place could use some decor though. And some light"

She muttered to herself, raising both brows at the echoes. The raven sighed and moved to run her hand over her hair when the sound of chains and a familliar restraint made her stop abruptly. Icy blue eyes went wide and she stopped moving. Was that what she thought it was? One glance down confirmed her fears. Her hands and legs were chained exactly how they were back on her cell, if not worse.

"What the.. I would blame Hershey but she's in a dream of her own"

Bisila chuckled to herself, trying to make light of the situation. Honestly she was feeling pissed. Out of all the things she could've dreamt about, why this? She'd rather dream of an absurdly long, not tall, Galious than being chained again. Out of nowhere, a noise echoed in the endless darkness. A sound of a single drop of water dripping. Drip, a pause then another drip. Repeatedly. It was a very annoying sound. Pulling on the chains didn't seem to work, instead making their grip stronger.

"Okay Bisi, think. This is a dream, your dream. In your mind. You can definately think your way out of this.."

She thought of a key, of the sound of the chains unshackling her, of her freedom.

Drip

Drip

Somehow, it made things worse. She gasped as she felt her neck get chained as well

"Oh come on! Atleast give me a gun to shoot my way out"

She yelled at the dark room, the echoes ringing and fading. Bisi clicked her tongue and looked down when her eyes looked up once more at the sound of a gun cocking. Did it work? She looked around. The darkness didn't help and her hands didn't feel anything.. But the sound came from behind...Her

Drip

Drip

Drip

"....Shit"

It almost a second to feel the barrel of the gun on her head

"Who are you?"

Drip

Drip

Drip

There was a long, disturbing silence between the two, the only things breaking it being Bisila's breathing and the dripping of water. This feeling, it's familliar. Almost like back at the cell, when the Crows were just staring at her. She was expecting to die at any moment, the longer they took the scared she was.

Drip

Drip

Drip

"Wh-"

BANG!


Bisila woke up in a headstart, sweating and panting with wide eyes, her hand clutching her chest. It took her a few seconds to register the morning light and her uncomfortable sleeping position against the aisle. The White Wolf took a few deep breaths. She was fine, no injuries, no dripping noises, she didn't just get shot in the head. Instead she was in a church with her worst enemies and hiding from the eyes of the Black Watch. She couldn't tell which was more ridiculous out of the two. With a shake of her head, Bisi got on her feet and groggily walked over to where she could smell some tea, along with something with honey. Breakfast included a granola bar and the honey treat, which upon one bite made the White Wolf perk up at the mix of flavours and nodded along to Galious's comment of Serek knowing how to cook. Looks like the whole homemaker came with good food knowledge

"I agree! you should give me the recipe for this. I want to try making it sometime"

She took another bite only to see the Arachnida's faceplate retreat to reveal..Teeth..Scary kind of teeth. She froze, her smile still there but her eyes narrowed in a mix of horrified disgust. Cue internal screaming. The woman then dropped her granola and rubbed her hands together

"There goes my apetite"

Shooting a glare at the Arachnida, she closes her eyes and sips her tea, the hot tea pushing the nightmare at the back of her head.

"So..What's our next move? Are we done robbing the church or do we need to get the holy water too?"​

 

[Celestial Speck]

Pilgrim59 | xAlter | ElenaIsCool | Huntertabbysandshark3

Hassan Nox I-Sen

Anthem County, Abandoned Church


​

The smell of cooking food was the first thing that woke Hassan up compared to the much more predominant and less gentle sunrays that came to him first compared to his companions. Something mostly achieved thanks to his chosen location to spend the night: outside and leaning against the wall, grass bellow him and the cold wind hitting him but not disrupting his sleep. He did, however, feel the merciless soreness of his body and muscles from waking up in such an uncomfortable manner, quickly ignored with a grunt of his as he stretched.

Right. Reminder to self: try and sleep with the others, even though Gallious snores a whole lot.

Something else caught his attention beyond his companions likely having breakfast, however, and that was the small note carefully placed on his arms. It was something that caused him to raise an eyebrow, for all he knows, nobody here but a select few is necessarily close enough to him to warrant a secret note. Or perhaps it was the opposite? It was hard to tell, but from the way it was placed between his arms, it seems the writer wasn't trying to wake him up. It really was likely to be a message meant to be kept a secret, just from those clues alone.

Opening up, Hassan was quick to identify the handwriting to belong to none other than Caenis, their spy that still found himself on the Iris. That revelation caused him to chuckle a bit and mentally berate himself. It was obvious, after all, when you thought about it. After years of spying on the Iris and sending the Harbingers valuable information on their whereabouts, earning their trust and the like, only for the war to end and his objective never to be met and to suddenly being thrust in this situation where Harbinger and Iris alike are companions is likely something that... can make someone confused.

He probably should have a private conversation with the lupus at some point. He is, after all, technically still their leader.

Quietly, Hassan read over the note and placed it in his pocket after reviewing its contents enough times so he could memorize it, making sure to keep one hand over it to ensure it doesn't fall off, and another on his sword as with one final stretch, he approached the hypnotizing smell of food made by none other than Sertek himself.

It caused him to blink twice at the sight, with how ridiculous it was. Right. Househusband... did he ever cook before?

Shaking his head off these thoughts, Hassan was quick to jump in the conversation like he was always there with Bisi's inquiry. "We move forward, of course. I scoured the church yesterday and haven't found anything of interest. 'tis a good place for rest, but not much else. The best we can do is plan where we'll be going next."

With a slight groan, he sat himself down, taking a bite of his own from the breakfast, the taste surprising him thoroughly. Tasty...

"...Either way, good morning to all of you. I'm assuming I haven't missed much of importance, right?"

 

[Doctor Nope]

Eryn Leasath Cissnei
Location: Take a wild Guess.

​

The breakfast was good. He didn't have much to say on the matter other than that, and a quick compliment to the chef. Eventually he sat back on a pew, taking his time with the tea, which is what was really helpful to him in his current state. Sertek's comment about getting him his "fix" led him to questioning exactly how much Sertek knew about Eryn's situation in that regard, or how much the Commander knew and had told to Sertek. The question remained unspoken, he could infer what he needed. Getting addicted to his own substance wasn't something he was proud of, especially with how avoidable it should have been. It was supposed to only be used as a performance enhancer in battles, so naturally, he should have stopped using it once the war was over.

Living alone however, had allowed him to go unsupervised when using it to help him work through the night. His parents always did tell him that he'd ought to hurry up and marry someone that'd take care of him. Even these days, they'd frequently pester him about bringing a girl with him back to their family home in Haven's outskirts. Too bad he didn't know the first thing about courting someone. Where would he even start? What kind of person was he supposed to be compatible with? He'd no doubt be popular in his childhood town after coming back as a war hero, but something told him that he wouldn't be comfortable with that kind of attention.

This wasn't even a good time to be thinking about such things. What was he gonna do, get hitched while being chased by black watch? An otherwise absurd idea, but the fact that his Commander ended up married to the literal Daemon Lord, leading to Eryn having witnessed during his half-consciousness one of the strangest marital dynamics he'd ever seen, it didn't seem so crazy.

Focus on the current situation.

...

I don't know what to do in this situation. Wait for orders to move out to whichever location the Commander deems fit.

 

[Pilgrim59]

Sertek
Abandoned Church, Anthem County

Interacted: Worthlessplebian
Mentioned: N/A ​

Reeling back from his thoughts with a surprised demeanor, Sertek's clear eyes met the arachnid-man. The Daemon blinked twice, curious as to how his acquaintance managed to sneak up on him. He then understood why he was among the august defenders that followed Sylvia into battle. It seemed, for a moment there, they were both able to cast aside their past transgressions, if any were made - evident of that granola in Preston's appendage. His attention caught up with him, as Sertek attempted to concoct a reply for Preston. Rather, he should be grateful for their arrival, as it had broken the Daemon Lord from an entranced state not of his doing. Albeit unorthodox for someone of his caliber, it seemed that Preston had his own rationales that made him an iconic figure of the Company. Alas, Sertek was glad Preston was willing to even speak with him.

"Ah yes. My apologies. Thought I should get to know the architect that gave us refuge the night before." Sertek said, chuckling softly to himself. He raised his hand slightly and rubbed his unkempt hair as a means to generate his next remark. "I know you may have some mistrusts, as any sane person would in this situation. But rest assured, we are on the same side. You have my word, as one man to another that this alliance will be honored to the letter." Sertek finally voiced his concerns, in hopes of restoring the confidence between them. He then turned towards the others in the background briefly, nodding to himself then continued.

"Oh, how's that breakfast treating ya? Feedbacks are most welcome, especially when we're about to spend some quality time with one another on the road." the Daemon Lord commented, pondering his culinary efficiency. He had to make sure his cooking was up to turf in order to keep morale high. This was perhaps the most opportune time for him to finally get to talk to Preston directly, had he not been caught up in the comforts of his home on 59th. Despite Preston's intimidating look, he sported a distinct dialect that was most welcoming to the ears. Sertek could not help but wonder if the war had plucked the spider-lad far away from his home. Perhaps it was Sertek's fault that many of these fine young men and women could have been given a better future had he forfeit his role as a Daemon Lord. Preston could have went on to find a cure for aetherial corruption and the others could have been given a purpose beyond slaughtering and be branded as traitors where they stood now. Alas, what was done could not be changed. He knew this better than anyone else, shy of only Sylvia perhaps. It gnawed at him, as he now stood before Preston. A sense of guilt crept over him, juxtaposed only by the lingering doubt on his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he could not rid himself of his presumed post. With the eyes of the Companions and the Harbingers upon him as they were on Sylvia, he understood now just how much of a burden it must have been for his wife. Despite her resolute claims and inspirational aura, only he could see the fragile side that she tried to disguise with her strength. It pained him so much now than it did before.

"Oh, right. Don't forget your tea, Preston." Sertek added, scurrying off to find a vessel for his tea as he offered it to Preston. A small deed to keep himself off his thoughts.

 

[Nessi]

Angelica Mori
Location: Abandon Church, Anthem County
Interactions: @harbingers

​

Angelica listened to her comrade spill his woes unto her, and she sat in silence, unable to find the words to best comfort his friend. She could only imagine how Caenis was feeling, she only had to play the part sometimes, to gather information from the shadows and take out anyone that Sertek told her needed to be dead. Caenis had left expecting to die, his objective was to simply destroy the IRC, but not to come back alive. So for him to return to not only see his master alive, but for a sizable amount of harbingers to still be alive, well it would be nothing short of a shock to a system. Angelica watched as Caenis excused himself, and silently nodded as she leaned back on the uncomfortable pew. Angelica begun to ponder about what her next move would be. She knew that the Harbingers wouldn't protest her presence, but with the nature of her unique "talent", she didn't have the best reputation among even her fellow Harbingers. She could simply leave, disappear from the ragtag group without a trace.
"Perhaps I need some rest, these past few days haven't done me any good." Angelica muttered to herself before kicking her feet up, and finally unwinding, allowing herself to fully relax. Exhaustion consumed her, and she fell asleep not to long after, despite being with people who were her enemy not to long ago. She dreamt of high quality tea's and fine silks, pure bliss.

Angelica woke up, and groaned at the fact that her dream was truly a dream. However, she woke up to the delightful scent of food, and her stomach roared in hunger. She shot up, her face red with embarrassment, and she hopped that nobody heard her stomach's demand for food. She followed the scent of food to it's source, and to her surprise she found that Sertek, the Daemon Lord himself, had made breakfast for everyone. Angelica had no recollection of Sertek cooking at all during the war, and chalked it up as a skill he picked up while living an ordinary life. Angelica took a bowl for herself, and looked at it suspiciously. Sertek was a killer, he could level armies by himself with his dual blades and with ease, but for him to make a meal?
"Well, if it smells good, it can't taste too bad." Angelica mumbled to herself before shoving a spoonful of the granola goodness into her mouth, and she was pleasantly surprised with the flavor. The granola went well with the tartness of the wild berries and the sweetness of the honey.

"I'll be damned, it seems like he can cook." Angelica stated after swallowing her first bite. She looked around, and saw that everything was for the most part, calm. Angelica hadn't noticed, but she had been being on guard the moment she reached the group, and for good reason. Angelica was alive today because she only put trust in a few people, but the people who were once her enemy now ate with her, they ate the daemon lords cooking and didn't fear that it was poisoned. The IRC trusted them, they trusted this shaky alliance, and this was enough for Angelica to place a small bit of trust in them for now. Once their common enemy was dealt with, they'd hash it out.

Hassan's voice snapped Angelica out of her deep thought, and she shook her head before shoving another spoonful of her breakfast in her mouth. She studied her fellow harbingers, they all seemed fine for the most part, but dirty, very dirty, and lacking in clean cloths. Angelica quickly finished her breakfast before standing up to make an announcement.
"My fellow harbingers, as much as I love you all, your all look like you've been rolling in a pigs sty... So when I get the chance I'll try to make you all some newer cloths. I'll get your measurements later, but I thought I'd let you know so when I come around you won't be surprised." Angelica stated.

 

[Zariel]

──────────────────────────────────────
Irelia Sonan
──────────────────────────────────────
— The Dawnbringer —
​

Irelia's eyelids lids lifted, answering the gentle touch of dawn's crisp breeze and the rustle of branches encompassing her. Though her crimson orbs were concealed beneath soft flaps of skin, Irelia hadn't slept. Her conscience reprimanded her pine for respite, proving true what she conveyed to Odhrán the night before; the Swordmaiden could not think to rest while infamous villains were in their midst. She had to be ready, just in case disaster struck.

Throughout the moonlit hours, Irelia bided her time in placid meditation. Such acts were a common practice, an ancient method that is efficacious at lulling the mind. Away from the dreary sight of a fading church, Irelia's thin figure was immersed in a blanket of snow. She was one with nature and the natural elements, exactly how she liked it. The frigid air was sharp, but the cold did not bother her; on the contrary, she thanked winter's harsh chill. It kept her senses awake. It kept her vigilant.

Irelia's eyes trailed down to the rushing stream below the shallow slope from where she sat. The soothing sound of burbling water coursing past her and through the white forest was appeasing. Water. The driving force of all nature.

If pure magic exists on this planet, it is contained in water, Irelia thought, reciting an old Jianki proverb.

Her musings then divaricated, recollecting to an encounter from the previous night. She was stopped by an intimidatingly towering man, a Dovean, and another of Sertek's henchmen. He claimed to be the Grand General of the Daemon Lord's army—an undisputably terrifying title. Yet, he spoke with a stern and simultaneously genuine voice entwined with solemn regret. He mentioned that it was once his onus to conquer and spread fear in the name of the Daemon Lord, but now he felt a profound sense of regret for his countless crimes. Irelia tactfully tried to unearth any cunning lies of deception, but even she could feel his aura which steeped the atmosphere with sincerity. Still, Fealca's intentions for confiding in Irelia specifically remained unclear to her. Perhaps there was more to the Grand General's woes than she'd anticipated, but what link did that hold to the Swordmaiden?

She didn't want to admit it, but her dialogues with two Harbingers, Hassan and Fealca, and shared entanglement served to instil an iota of trust towards her once sworn enemies. Not enough, but it was a start.

Irelia sighed.

The Dawnbringer rose from her seated position and looked in the direction of the church. Taking one final glance back at the stream, she trudged through the snow, making her way back to the consecrated building. Upon arrival, she entered, observing several gathered around for morning repast, albeit a meagre one. Among them was Sertek and his right hand.

Irelia's eyes narrowed. Her mind, quick to spew sparks.

The Deceiver was ten spans and five finger widths away from her. A single step forward and Irelia would be in range to decapitate the Daemon Lord, faster than one could blink. Now was the perfect opportunity to put an end to arguably the greatest evil to have defiled Grozny. The Daemon Lord was weak and would be powerless to stop her. It would all be over, just like that, at the snap of a finger.

No! You mustn't do it. Control yourself. Do not succumb to anger! Irelia resisted the burning temptation, keeping her emotions under duress. It is not your place to blight fate.

"Ugh," Irelia let out a low sound, and her body loosened. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she slowly approached the group.

"Good morning to you all," she politely greeted, making it impossible to decipher her former sentiment just moments prior. Irelia's crimson orbs gandered between those present, noting the absence of certain individuals. "Has anyone seen Sylvia? I wish to ask her about something."

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Preston Saytzeff Pacer, Preston of Met Di Plurida
Mentions: Pilgrim59 Celestial Speck Zariel Doctor Nope ElenaIsCool
Location: Abandoned Church, Anthem County, Haven.

A sense of jubilant satisfaction welled within Preston. Though his lipless mouth could not express smiles or gratitude, rest assured that his grin would be ear to ear. Yes, the sneaky spider's scheme of surprising a lifelong foe has been accomplished—even though the foe is suffering from memory loss. That tickled my hairs! An Arachnoid idiom which means to be complacent and happy with themselves. Trickery aside, Preston's stance towards him and the remaining harbingers has not changed. Something that he'll make clear with the following interaction. At the very least, Sertek shall know where he stands. The granola is satisfactory.

Inner ears twitched in response to words; that is an interesting motive. Finishing his consumption of a granola chunk, he answered him. "Bold words for someone who would've plastered his likeness on this 'refuge.' " One finger extended from his grip around the granola, pointing at Sertek. "Of allegiance, I have no doubts... For now, anyway. Make no mistake, once this situation is resolved: then in my eyes, you shall be the enemy again." His tone became cold and antagonistic, though he relaxed after his intentions were meted out.

When the proposition of criticism came, Preston had quickly decided what to say. "Ah, yes, yes. The complexities of flavour, texture, and warmth make this an absolutely delightful treat. Though I must express that the sugary sweetness is, by my thoughts, a tad overwhelming. Everything else's is splendid." While normally hostile, the spider's nature of medicine, love of fine cuisine, and professionalism ensured that he shared his criticism fairly. Although Preston resented the harbingers, unconsciously it was agreed upon that without their intervention, Preston would have never even met Iris Company. Sure, he would have seen Dragonsreach or places within the Empire, but his experience wouldn't be the same. What a joke.

"Oh, I respectfully refuse. I'll brew my own tea if that is acceptable to the Dark Lord."

Moving to Sertek's side, Preston observed the group that is gathering. The Swordsman, Irelia, Eryn, the Trickster. He waved his free hand, whilst finishing his morning treat. He'll have to go find some meat to smoothieze later.

 

[Funnier President]

Kazan Hi
Interactions: Worthlessplebian , Zariel , Doctor Nope , Celestial Speck , ElenaIsCool
Mood: I wake up in the morning, feelin like dying.

Waking up to a headache really wasn't how she liked to start her morning. Groaning, the magma mage attempted to fall back asleep, but to no avail. The sun poked through to reach her very much-not-ready eyes, and she had no choice but to respond. Pushing herself up (and mentally screaming from the pain in her arms- her mouth wasn't 100% ready yet)she tried to just keep her eyes open. Wow, she felt as if she had been killed and the necromancers had decided, Hey, think we could use a magma mage? Sure, why not? And boom, they slapped life into her cold dead body. (It would have been a lot easier to just think reanimated corpse , but where the fun in that?

She tried to take a moment to assess herself, eyes blinking slowly. She had a kink in her neck she would never be able to work out, a headache that seemed to add an ow to every thought she had, bones aching, and the cuts in her arms felt like stab wounds because why didn't she listen to the spider. Alas, whatever had decided to create her (minus her parents), they dumped a truckload of "not listening to doctors" into whatever goop she was made in.

Shuffling like a corpse towards the water dispensers (or whatever they were called- she no speak right) she just poured the stuff onto her arms. That was one of the only instructions she remembers being given by Preston, and holy fuck, that shit hurt.

After finishing her (almost) silent screaming of pain (anyone close by the wagon might have heard a few muffled curses), she proceed to just push her jacket sleeves onto of her arm in an attempt to put pressure on it. Which, did nothing except want to make her scream out in agony even more. With a yawn, she flopped down on one of the seats and took a moment to appreciate the situation. She was on the run from the Black Watch (even if it was for things that- never mind, she was not touching that can of bitter thoughts), currently in a Coalition with what were technically suppose to be the IRS sworn enemies/counterparts. (although the only ones who really acted like sworn enemies were Sylvia and the Daemon Lord, Irelia, and the right hand man of said Daemon Lord), and was sitting down in a wagon that belonged to some crazy rich lady who is probably stuffing cupcakes up the McFreaking Dragon Slayers nose, and she was probably going to insane if kept thinking about this.

Short story, it really sucked, and there wasn't a bad pun to be made here.

After what felt like an eternity of her fidgeting around, stopping, and fidgeting around, she finally decided to get herself up. She didn't exactly want to sit alone in a wagon all day! Standing up as best she could, she shuffled over to the entrance, squinting her eyes. Ew, sunlight. Letting out a yawn and attempting to stretch a bit, she took a moment to look at the church. For some reason, letting out an internal shiver at the though of it, was that the church seemed even more spooky at day, as if the ghosts of those who believed in the church would suddenly come out. Or that could be her still-sleepy mind. Anyways, something smelled delicious, and she was pretty sure the wildlife didn't smell like berry stew or whatever that was. And so, with a goal in mind, her stomach rumbling, she set of towards the other side of the church.

Jeez, where did everyone come from? Rounding a corner of the Church, she came face-to-face with enough people to have a party with. (Well you could have a party with just yourself, but that probably means that you have some issues-) She had just one burning question. Where the heck could get some granola? Attempting to wipe the sleepiness from her eyes with her sleeve (which just got water all over her face- still effective, but not what she asked for) She looked around at where everyone was. Waving a hello to Preston, she practically stumbling to the small group that was forming with Irelia, Eryn, and two Harbringers, she greeted them with the best smile she could muster (which was not that great)

"Morning, 'Relia, Eryn, Oak dude, and I-have-no-clue-who-you-are. Seems like I came late to the morning party."

She mentally slapped herself, remembering that Eryn would have no clue where the hell she came from. As funny as it would be to leave him completely confused as too what hole she popped up from, she decided to tell him real quick where she came from. After all, nobody like being left in the dark (in multiple senses of the word)

"And if you're wondering where I came from Eryn, I kinda just stumbled across this wonderful vacation spot by accident after going on the run."

She could feel the weight of the words unspoken on her tounge, but shoved them down yet again. Being angry about being sent on the run for things that were beyond her control would not help right now. Anyways, time to get some food! Turning to the First Harbringer, she said

"Hey tree guy, you gonna finish that granola?"

​