[center][h3][u]Smor'Gen'Blok's Lower Tunnels, Kul Hearthsite[/u]
[sub]3rd of Summer - 10:23 AM[/sub][/h3][/center]

	Ha'Kul let out a long breathy sigh as his son began to question the situation. "Calm yourself, boy. This not a bad omen. We blessed with fall of Wor. Need not worry about Kul." He released his hand from the hearthstone, prompting a gentle flash that encapsulated the rock and improved its glow ten-fold. The chief stood up straight afterwards, and beckoned Za'Kul to follow him with a subtle head gesture and a grunt. "Wor Reputation lower than even lowest tribes in Smor'Gen'Blok. I not know why, not understand, but Wor'Boa target of all who he oppress. But Wor tribe not consumed entirely by the rage of pure bloods. Old tradition die with pure bloods, die with [i]Wor'Boa.[/i]" He stopped by his personal tent and turned around slowly to rest his body. After charging the hearthstone for the day, it would be a little while before his mind was completely clear of mental exhaustion. Ha'Kul shook the feeling off as best he could and rubbed his left temple.

	"Survivors of Wor are not at fault for actions of pure bloods. But not my place to pick and choose who deserves life or death. We move to save survivors now. All pure blood will be thankful. Sure of it. Those not? They fight, and will die." The Chieftain's face tightened with regret. "Whoever responsible for collapse perform monstrous deed. But Wor's actions bring punishment. No amount of mercy stop brothers and sisters from such deeds. We left to pick up bits and pieces, rebuild trust, start anew. Lu'Li'Po not wish for Lok'Sha to treat each-other like beasts. We not [i]beasts.[/i] We people. All people deserve help. All people can change."

	Ju'Kul jogged across the hearth site as the chief finished talking, leaving the Wor survivors to rest and mourn their losses.

	"Wor not restless. Sad, but comfortable. No Pure bloods among them." Ha'Kul nodded to his friend and turned back to Za'Kul. 

	"It is as I say, thankfully. Does this calm the mind, son?"

[center][h3][u]Baeshri Hills, West of Centaurus[/u]
[sub]3rd of Summer - 10:41 PM[/sub][/h3][/center]

	The Myti's shoulder pulsed with mana, dispelling Flin's attempt to grab her as she lunged forward on adrenaline and instinct alone, following Daelin and using his backward momentum to easily topple him to the ground, pinning him as best she could. Before the wind could surround her and separate the woman from Daelin, both of them hit the ground with a heavy thump. The fired arrow plunged into her hip, piercing through flesh and bone and exiting through the opposite side of her body. It was true what they said about Myti, they were a fragile sort of creature. But her exceptional speed put her in a position to execute Daelin at a moment's notice. She brought her dagger back towards his throat despite the parry, and held it firmly. If she let up even for a moment, her inferior strength would have her tossed aside easily.

	[sub]'[i]The plan[/i]'[/sub]

	She didn't delay. Only a moment after Daelin's body hit the ground, the Myti's voice rang through Daelin's mind as a blaring shout.

	[b]"[i]We have the girl. Tell them to stop.[/i]"[/b]

	Regardless of whether Daelin heeded her message or not, the Myti promptly began to funnel her mana through Daelin's nervous system. A psychic assault, something aimed to straight up [i]force[/i] the man to lose consciousness. Myti were known for their exceptional mana control. If she wasn't disconnected from him quickly, it wouldn't matter if he listened to her warning.

[center][h3][u]Baeshri Pass, Caravan Centaurus[/u]
[sub]3rd of Summer - 11:02 PM[/sub][/h3][/center]

	Blake ignored Rem's words as he careened overhead, and flipped forward with his hammer prepped overhead. With a thunderous crash, he landed on the roof of the Caravan, and slammed his hammer into the reinforced flooring. As if it were made of balsa wood, it cracked and crumbled, flooding the inside of the caravan with shrapnel, and dislodging the lamp overhead. Zay fell from his bunk and landed hard on his  side. Thankfully, his injuries had recovered due to Noru's earlier treatments, but he hadn't gotten much rest. Neal rose his hands overhead and blocked the falling debris from falling onto Pyra, but was in no position to shield anyone else.

	"Captain! Outside!" Neal shouted as wooden splinters fell into the slots between his armor. Zay propped himself out and quickly rose to his feet, snatching the Key from the floor and unlocking the door to get out of the room.

	Blake's cronies all took aim with their crossbows, ignorant of Rem's status as a druid. In rather perfect unison, they fired at him, sending a stream of bolts towards Rem. Blake, now standing on uneven ground, quickly spun towards the front of the caravan and prepped his hammer for another [i]swing.[/i]



[center][h3][u]Berganfont, The Sewage Crevice[/u]
[sub]4th of Summer - 9:04 AM[/sub][/h3][/center]

	Matthew flinched at the Gibu's outburst. Is that what he was. He looked away nervously, and then eyed one of the gutter entrances that lead towards the surface of town. This thing was probably dangerous. It looked armed, and had terrible manners. But he wasn't really one to talk.

	"Whatssa Gibu?" He asked quietly, inching around the small man. "Peter calls you little monsters [i]greenies,[/i] cuz you're green, and envious. You steal potatoes and carrots and stuff cuz... Uh..." He racked his brain was absentmindedly glancing at his escape route ever other second. "Cuz you're hungry! Peter says it, must be true. His momma told him bout' how the greenies are [i]evil little thieves[/i] that take whatever they want from whoever they want! And, and... You hide in the sewers at night!" He paused, remembering another name he heard for them at one point from Peter's big brother.

	[i]"Trash goblins!"[/i]

[center][h3][u]Northern Marrenfall, Gybol's Cafe[/u]
[sub]4th of Summer - 11:06 AM[/sub][/h3][/center]

	Nina caught on immediately, and froze in place. Her head craned towards the door, where she could see Gybol's hand and leg poking out just beyond the frame. Without a second thought, she dropped her spoon and sneaked her way out of the building through the back entrance. It wouldn't take too long to find a guard this early in the morning. At least, that's what she hoped for.

	"You're a stubborn one," he scoffed, "I just wanted a little privacy. She would have been [i]fine.[/i]" The man slowly tiled his body to the side and groaned before returning to his upright position. It sounded like the girl had run off to deal with the [i]parcel[/i] Gybol mentioned. With a moment alone with Gybol, he smiled and lowered his head. "My name is [b]Richard Barnaby.[/b] I suspect you've heard of my father if you're keen on books." His eyes fluttered up a few times between words. Richard's father, [b]Hubert Barnaby[/b], was a man famous for his books on Marrenfall's culture and economical climate. He was also responsible for heading major revolutions in mana-forged technology in the southern sprawl of Marrenfall, including the invention of the [b]MCA (Mana Collision Apparatus)[/b] which improved the efficiency of mana storage. "That artifact you wield is a trinket devised in the late 1200's of the third era. It is called a [b]Soul Locket.[/b] It took researchers twenty years to figure out [i]exactly[/i] what they're capable of, but that's besides the point." Richard leaned back and pushed the tray forward slightly to make room for his hands. "There are only two of those wretched things in existence, that [i]I know of[/i]. One of them is in my possession, as you can clearly see. The other was taken by a colleague of mine." Richard glared at Gybol's locket momentarily, and then met his eyes again. "I'll spare you any further detail on the situation and cut straight to the chase, mister Gybol. Did you [i]kill[/i] a man by the name of [b]Jakob Stein?[/b]" He tightened his smile and lowered one of his arms to his waist.