[h3][img]http://i.imgur.com/9LDSvd1.png[/img]
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[img]http://i.imgur.com/0zOu8o4.png[/img][/h3]

Veronica sighed. The cyclical fashion that this discussion was progressing in was simply exasperating. And just when she was beginning to think that, just for a few hours, she could forget about the constant maelstrom of debate and conflict that her life seemed to revolve around these days. Tirnea asked her if this sort of thing was normal and she shook her head. She glared at the man, letting her feelings about this dispute be known before she even started speaking.

“Listen, sage.” Veronica started. “If there truly is some foul beast under the earth, go tell the Order. They can get ready to fry the thing the moment it decides to pop its head out of the ground. But if Tirnea says there isn’t anything down there, then I believe her, and all you’re accomplishing by disputing this is wasting our time, and perhaps most importantly, making her uncomfortable, so get a damn clue and drop this before I get too tired of it.” Veronica frowned as she looked down at him. His words seemed genuine but she could see why his persistence was so... annoying.
[hr]

Serena nodded thoughtfully when Autumn said that she couldn’t tell her any specifics of her mission. It was something she herself was rather familiar with, both before and after she had started working with The Choir. She was also familiar with this woman’s caution; the way she tensed up and frowned at her. The way that her hands moved under her cloak. She could be wrong, of course, but she knew how it felt to experience that rising tension, being ready to fight at the slightest provocation should things turn for the worst. As before, she decided not to press her any further. If she was right and this woman did feel pressured, then it wasn’t worth the risk.

Serena nodded once more when Autumn mentioned her talents as a sell-sword and scout. She almost laughed; it was like she was cut out for this job.

“I am tracking fugitives from The Choir,” Serena said, her voice hushed enough to prevent attracting any unwanted attention. “Terrorists may be a better word to describe them. At least one of them is here in this city, and I am hoping to find him before he decides to make himself known. But this city is more closely-knit than it looks, and word travels fast enough that I believe I could obtain some sort of information about where he is or what he is doing here. There are at least four of them, counting the golem, and if you happen to glean any information about any strange new arrivals in this city, especially if they are mentioned to be dressed in black or a young hunter, then I will pay you for your trouble. I need to bring them back dead or alive, but I won’t expect you to fight any of them.” She put a hand to her chin in thought for a moment. Was that all? She looked back to Autumn, awaiting her response.


[img]http://i.imgur.com/3MlfTgI.png[/img]

“SNAKE!” Calieo cried as she disappeared into the grass for a moment.

“HOLY SHIT WHERE?!” Rebecca asked, reflexively stepping back as she looked about near her feet. Eventually Calieo simply decided that they should move onward, in a way that gave Rebecca the impression that there was no snake. She probably got it confused with something else. She barely knew what grass was, how would she know anything about snakes? She went back to listening to Calieo talk; it was better than thinking about how many snakes probably actually were writhing around in here.

Rebecca offered a quick “hah” when Chambala mentioned the destruction of the bridge.

“I can’t say I blame them.” Rebecca said with a slight hint of confidence. “If I was up against The Choir’s army I’d set the whole damn river on fire if I could. I hope the royal family’s enjoying this little grace period they made for themsel-”

Rebecca clammed up and stopped dead in her tracks when Calieo told the group to be quiet. The way she scanned the grass around them… was there something else in here with them? Hopefully not another snake. She slowly reached for a tool to defend herself with; the launcher wasn’t designed for environments like this, before Denise produced some sort of device and threw it with a cry of “fire in the hole!”

The researcher was smart enough to hit the ground before the device did, remaining safe from the explosion. Was that a fucking grenade? She shook her head as she picked herself off the ground. She would [i]not[/i] look at Denise in the same way again after that display.