[center][color=fff200]@Everyone[/color][/center]


[hr]
[center][h1][color=92278f]One Small Hunter[/color][/h1][/center]
[hr]


[indent]Devlin hadn’t noticed Ren had fallen by the way. She continued her laden walk, each new step felt like her feet were being pulled through sand. The sword in her hand, though made of light ancient steel, seemed now to be constructed of iron; its point dragging and carving a trail in the cobblestone behind her.  All the while she was swallowing repeatedly, suppressing the urge to vomit, while straining to keep her eyes open on the slow swelling of Nadska’s threshold ahead. 

Just a few meters from the gate, Devlin’s journey drew to a stop, she sheathed her sword, body at sway as if she were about to teeter over at any moment. Yet, beneath her enervated exhibit, her mind was defiantly focused on the assorted gathering of survivors; some she’d never seen before, others were familiar - if only in passing - but all of them were strangers. A diverse range of entities and walks of life united in a common interest… thrown together by the same accursed fate as her own. 

Quietly she listened at the tailing conversation pertaining to a map. She saw expressions of fear, the conveying of resolve, the naïve concept of adventure in the face of possible dire adversity, and she saw each one of these people as cows to the slaughter before Ren stole her attention. The pallid musician stepped out in front of her, his heavy eyes reflecting those of a lost and frightened child while voicing his silent concerns for the topic of strangers.  

In a way it’s funny what stimulates a person. When she saw Ren in this instance, his copse-like portrait seemed to act like a stimulant, and her physically wretched condition was seized by the bracing sense of compassion.

“Don’t.” She said, her voice rasped and mild, while delicately running her finger down the back of his hand. “There’s no safe place…. Stay with me and I’ll keep you alive. Even if it kills me.” 

Devlin then moved toward the archer and, without requesting permission, nor introducing herself - or even so much as giving him the slightest look of regard - she took the map from his hands and proceeded to look it over. She studied it for a moment, memorizing the outlay, then handed it back to him as coldly as she had taken it. Again, she turned to Ren with a slight, though direct motion of her head for him to follow - but making eye contact with no one else, she made her way through the group and walked out on the road before turning back to face them all. Raising her voice, though keeping her head lowered, face hidden in the shadow of her hood, she called out loud enough for everyone to hear, saying:

“I am the Daughter of Despiun, the sole survivor of the massacre at Despiun. No doubt you’ve heard the story before. It’s no secret what happened there…. I’m a monster hunter. That’s what I do. But I’m not here to hunt the multitude of abominations. I’m here for only one – the source of them all! …I also have reason to believe that the source is close at hand.” 
 
She paused to draw back her hood and reveal her face, and yet she kept her eyes to the ground in a humbled manner that seemed to conflict with the temper of her voice, and continued;    

“I don’t care who you are! I don’t care where you’re from! But the fact that you’re still alive right now tells me enough about destiny. If you want to help put an end to the affliction that plagues our land, then you are free to join me. I’m now heading to the coordinated on the map….” She raised her eyes, making brief contact with each person there, and finished; “If any of you instead wish to cower and run, then we part ways now. Stay her and die alone.”

Sliding the hood back over her head with both hands, Devlin turned and started on her way, heading in direction of the coordinates on the map.[/indent]