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[@PaulHaynek],[@13org](FYR)
FF5353

Magnus' eyes lit up as the old woman offered the flowers to them, having recognized what Morning Flowers looked like from the Guild's library, an excited grin crossing his lips before he accepted them, resisting the urge to give the poor old nun a hug...he...kinda doubted that she'd be able to take the Magnus-Sized hugs. Regardless, these were just the flowers Kyle needed for his flying machine! He hoped that these would be enough for him...and that Freyr wouldn't mind if he took them for that job. After all, Morning Light flowers were exceedingly rare. [color=FF5353][b]"T-Thank you very much ma'am! I don't know much about religions down here, but this is a lot nicer of a gift than a broken helmet."[/b][/color] Magnus said, referring to the Northerner's tradition of returning equipment that had broken and saved their lives in battle, typically to their lovers back home, or to their children. 

[color=FF5353][b]"We'll be back in three days, then. Promise you won't go alone, okay? Freyr's a great shot, a-and I'm pretty good with an axe.[/b][/color] As he said that, he realized that he'd never actually seen Freyr's archery up close, but from what his father had told him, Vieras were terrifying with a bow and arrow in hand. It was only natural to assume his skill was up to par, if not better than what he'd been told. Regardless, Magnus' smile only grew as he clapped his hand on his companion's shoulder happily, accidentally doing it a might bit hard and leaving a giant red handprint. [color=FF5353][b]"Have a good day Ma'am!"[/b][/color] Magnus said as a farewell, waving as he got to walking away. A spring in his step, Magnus seemed much happier than usual, imagining Kyle's flying machine as he looked up at the bright blue sky. [color=FF5353][i]"...Dreams, huh?"[/i][/color] he thought to himself, seemingly lost in his own head as his smile faded just a tad. 

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[@PaulHaynek]
A9A9A9

Nephele took a deep breath, wiping the sweat from her brow as the dull, wet thud of the Joyful's impact into the shallow bank of the river rung in her ears. She'd won...thankfully without anything worse than a scrape. Waving her hand as she approached where Ian was, there was just enough fog to keep her obscured as she heard him mention that IF the Joyful had won, he'd been rooting for it the whole time. Narrowing her eyes at her client, she had half a mind to string him up somewhere...but right now, pay and professionalism were far more important. Poking her head out of the fog, she hastily grabbed Ian and hoisted him over her shoulder, supporting his back with an arm and having his head face forward. [color=A9A9A9][b]"Ian, I feel its in your best interest if you let me carry you. Wouldn't want another Joyful to finally beat me with your support, after all."[/b][/color] she said, dryer and colder than an iceberg, and having a look in her eyes to match as she carried on.

...And of course, now her dress was soaked. Today just kept getting better and better with this armless, brainless, armored chicken. [color=A9A9A9][b]"Thanks for staying out of the fog."[/b][/color] she said after a while, feeling she should at least commend him not running to his death...twice. Once was quite enough for one day. And, she sincerely hoped that after this she would never have the displeasure of ferrying his hide across the wilderness again. Part of her wondered just what he did that made him lose his arms now, but somewhere in the back of her mind she reasoned it probably had to do with a woodchipper and a sandwich. Still, his full armor indicated he at least had the wealth to pay at the end of all this, so for now, he was precious cargo. She felt he'd take offense to being paralyzed, and as such figured that he at least had talking right still.