[center][b]Pyria
[/b]

[i]Child of the Flame[/i]

[b]Location:Actium[/b][/center]

Pyria blinked twice as her scratches magically healed somewhat. [i]Magic.[/i] Her eyes widened so slightly at the display, and she made no further motion to move. Until the bun was presented at her. With the swiftness of a feral cat, she snatched the bun out of the man's hands and began chomping greedily. It was so good, after having eating trash for the past weeks! The only thing she needed the money for was for food, so she was beaming at the development.

"Are you my new master, mister? Have you come to reclaim me as familiar?" The girl ventured to say, upon the offer of food and lodgings. "I um..." She hesitated, before taking a couple of steps back and dropping in a sort of servile curtsy. "I am Pyria. Nice to meet you, new master. Please take care of me." She ventured to say, finally raising her eyes to match his. A third figure approached suddenly, which prompted Pyria to yelp and hide behind Luca. "EEP!" She squeaked.

"My old master was killed by undead. That's all I know." She snapped back. Lousy idiots appearing out of nowhere with questions. "Go away, please." She added.

[hr]

[center][b]Tsabal
[/b]

[i]The Dark Whisperer[/i]

[b]Location:Campus Magnus[/b][/center]

The lone silent figure sighed, as she kept shambling around the campment, her donkey and belongings safe in a stable. Same sorry sight as everytime she could open her eyes enough for her to get a view before the sun completely blinded her. Drunken, unwashed soldiers who thought they were the Emperor´s elite, both in ego and self-appraised skill. Moldy tents, like unwashed, filthy giant loincloths, where men and women ate, sleep and made more of the little loud obnoxious bastards who seemed to live only to yell, bump into people, steal things and eat up valuable food rations. Women were no better than men in that regard, those who could potentially catch an eye or two prettied themselves up in hopes of earning money with their bodies, and becoming self-perpetuating plague spreaders among the camp. She couldn't even remember how many of those had healed.

A bunch of trash, led by a drunk buffoon called Gaius. But that was all good, Tsabal liked it. Were they more fit and capable, they would have already discovered her. Were they more righteous, she could never have hoped to earn her money by making pain-numbing drugs and poisons, and the rare chance of divination among their lot. Still, this was but a stepping stone for something greater, and she was just pooling her resources by encouraging the denizens of the Empire to cater to their vices and indulgence if she could make a profit out of it.

The reward for the wraith and curse dispelling was palatable, though. In a single stroke, she could wipe the roadblock that had prevented her brethen to keep conducting raids in the surface, as well as earning a considerable sum. It could be done, she thought to herself, as she dodged a drunken offduty soldier who was perched on some tramp's ample bosom and kept zigzagging through the assorted tents. She just needed the right people. Some of the soldiers had told her rumours of an hero of the east coming to help. Could be worth checking. But what kind of hero was that, she wondered?

It was too bright and too noisy, and the brat speaking about recruiting heroes, -which someone had obviously told him to- was getting on her nerves. So, she ventured forth to find her cozy, silent spot. Beneath a tree.

Spot that was sadly taken. She clenched her fist reflexively, before gazing at the inoportune idiot who had decided to crash at her favorite spot. [i]Huh[/i]. A female, robed, possibly the size of an elf. [i]Could she be... nah, there were no more survivors of the raids.[/i] Curbing her hostility, she raised her gloved hands and folded her arms across her robed chest.

"You must be new in town, huh. Robed silent type who doesn't like noise."