[u][i][b]Charles [/b][/i][/u] “Over the moon…” Rozalind murmured wistfully. “Their last communication they were headed north from the city of Vladivostok. Communications broke up after that… or Zesiro is ignoring us. Hard to tell which one it is.” She concluded grimly. “I was part of MERCY. Second to the team leader, Twain.” She glanced at Charles from the corner of her eyes. “Don’t you have everything you need to know in some sort of debriefing folder?” Yet she and Charles both knew that the papers were inadequate. “Twain.” She inspected her nails. “Is an imbecile. He is careless. He is sloppy. He relies too much on improvisation and too little on planning and preparation. On top of that there is his magic. His magic is… all wrong. You can’t trust anyone who toys around with the natural order of things. He will have you convinced otherwise, trust me, he can talk his way out of anything. Wizards are like that, half their magic is charisma and charm. But talk is cheap, and he knows it. He does have real power. So, if he ever stops talking… best get out of the way.” “Zesiro, his brother.” Rozalind hesitated, looking a bit more uneasy. “Pity him if you like, but don’t cut him any slack. Whatever the reason he’s on the team he has a job to do.” “I don’t know anything about the new girl. Gemma, hm? A scientist like you. Perhaps they would like a few more brain-cells in that unit.” She seemed like she was finished talking. Then, as if she had nearly forgotten his existence added… “Icarus… He’s more like a ghost than a team member. Twain doesn’t give him any orders, probably because he wouldn’t take any, but he always winds up doing something helpful to the mission.” She shrugged. “He’s a [i]hunter[/i]. That is something I understand. What I do not understand is… well…” She touched her finger to her rosy lips, thinking. “He got his ink before joining MERCY. He’s no wizard, so who knows who he sold his soul too in order to get those… some say the devil himself.” She grinned. “The one who hunts the rabbit for dinner is a different type of hunter than the one who hunts the rabbit for its pelt. Icarus… I suspect he does this... for [i]fun[/i].” She sighed. “You’ll never hear him admit it though.” The aircraft shook. Turbulence. A loud low roar echoed across the mountains. "[i]Dios Mio[/i]." Everyone was on alert. [u][i][b]Ryann, Dimitri, Herbert, William, [/b][/i][/u] Dzel, perhaps, assumed William was the leader. Or perhaps she, like a baby duckling just hatched, had imprinted upon him as he was the first thing she had seen upon waking. Or, perhaps she just needed to be told only once, then Ryann agreed, and the course of action became clear to the knight, who was much more comfortable carrying out strategy than creating it. She didn’t need to say anything. She picked up her armor from where it lay beside her, the chain mail was still wet with her blood, which had dripped from wounds that were now fully healed. She held the armor under her right arm, and the gun Will had given her in her left hand. She sprung from her place across the room and down the tunnel after William. As Will traveled he would, of course, find the tunnel that would lead back outside. Or, he found another path, and he could actually follow the long hall further underground. [u][i][b]Karnage, Jon[/b][/i][/u] Zesiro stopped by the body holding the phaser. “ER… I’ll hang on to it. Just [i]go[/i]. The boy sounded annoyed. Thinking that this man talked far too much. Like Twain, babbling on and on and on. Zesiro was accustomed to tuning out his brother Twain, and did the same against the words of these two fellows. “Get the hell ahead before [i]whatever-the-hell-that-is[/i] catches up with us first. They would reach the castle further south of Twain, just under the south tower. There were stairs going up it and a bridge that once lead across to the main castle, however, the bridge was broken now. There were feathers in the snow around the tower. Zesiro frowned. There shouldn't be birds at this elevation, nor, should there be men or demons like the two he traveled with now. Nor, for that matter, should he be here... [u][i][b]Vata[/b][/i][/u] They reached the castle in a few moments. Twain and the men began looking for a way inside. The stone walls were tall, but in some places crumbling. They found one such place on the northern side and made their way across a courtyard of some sort… … Eventually they found themselves under the half-broken roof of what was once the main hall. “Lookie here, a nice roof, shelter and….” Twain trailed off, his face became quite serious. They had found the altar and the carnage that surrounded it.