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Arlo was fairly annoyed by the way the enigma spoke to him. He had seemingly been following him around since last night and wouldn't even give out his name or purpose before ordering him around. His eyebrows furrowed at the strange nameless man behind the armour, but he needed to start on his trip to Ashton soon either way. It was about about a days journey by foot. But just as soon as the first knight left his doorstep, a second approached. This one wearing more typical armour, but he spotted the dragon scale adorning it. This man was either very rich, or has slayed a dragon himself, but either way it was a symbol of great power. Arlo's eyes rose to meet the man's, who then asked him a question he'd really rather not hear in a place where someone would sooner attack a mage than greet him.

"Uh, yes. I am a wizard. Serving temporarily under King Lancaster." He said, suddenly feeling the gaze of the knight on his bare chest. "Ah! Excuse me, I've just woken up." He then turned back and rummaged through his room to find and put on the rest of his clothes. His robe, the one piece of clothing that he had taken great care of, was placed neatly on the table next to the wrapped pendant. Now fully dressed and in his gear, he quickly put the pendant in his robe and returned to the two that had appeared at his dwelling.

"What can I do for you?"
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Sir Kay


Sir Kay eyed the so called court mage. He was young and skinny. Well, magic users rarely did ever depend on physique, but still, he was under the impression that for humans, magic mastery usually took decades. Was this man truly a Wise man? He thought as he waited for Arlo to come back. He did a slight double take under his helmet. My, my, aren't you a little too tall for Leveret fashion? He added mentally, his clothing being reminiscing of the hare folk. He was getting slightly cross about the whole situation. The king had placed his trust in a green whelp with harefolk tastes in clothes.

And he had to see through his success.

"Oh, pretty simple, master wizard." He said, the word 'master' somehow stuck in his throat for a second. "Just do some of your mystical handwaving thing and get rid of the plague that scours this kingdom while you don't trip on your robes. Don't get killed too. That would be... exceedingly bad." Sir Kay stood tall, his hands resting crossed on his chest. "Incidentally that's why King Lancaster, in his wisdom has entrusted me to help you. I need to be sure that I stop all the knives in the dark that might be misplaced on your young but surprisingly-critical-for-the-interest-of-the-kingdom heart. So I will be at your service. We will get this magic malarky sorted, and I will have a look at the strange undead tracks on the swamp afterwards. Call me sir Kay" He finished, relaxing his stance, as he offered the minimal bow of courtesy.
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ARLO


As the knight spoke, Arlo’s expression turned a bit sour. The idea of being escorted by a bodyguard wasn’t something he ever wanted, and he felt belittled by the thought of the king assigning him one. He thought perhaps the king was worried of an outright attack by the townsfolk while he worked, or maybe the man was sent by the king simply to supervise him. Either way, it was initially an unwelcome turn of events to suddenly have a babysitter following him around. That is, until he learned his name.

Sir Kay? The Sir Kay? Arlo knew the name well. A hero to his people. A hero to him. Frankly, Arlo was his biggest fan even if he had never seen him personally. A human, who had never been inside Moonfall, had no connections to her people, but still sacrificed so much in their defense. Arlo could hardly hold in his excitement to meet him, but letting on that he knew about it would give away that he was a native.

“Ah-- Sir Kay. I’ve uh, nevermind. I’d be glad to have you along.” Arlo bowed his head briefly. “It would be a good idea to have someone at my side. I’ll have to extend my gratitude to his majesty.”

Arlo reached into his robe and removed the pendant. Carefully unraveling the cloth from around it so that he would not touch it again, he held it out to Sir Kay in his palms.

“I believe I’ve found the source of the crisis. A cursed amulet, with ties to a lich, surely enough to drive a simple creature like a shadow sprite mad. I could simply remove the artifact from the city, but I doubt that alone will be enough. The curse has to be removed entirely or the lich may still have a hold of the capital and we’ll have a much, much bigger problem. So I’m making the journey to Ashton today to seek the help of their healers, someone there will have the means of sanctifying both the pendant and the place where I found it.”
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Gerard Voss


Upon arriving at Wanderneir, Gerard had very quickly gone his own way, considering he had reached the city and no further business was to be done with either of them. He would have to find a tavern, a few hours of sleep, and then make for the market district early enough to start figuring out the local climate on magitech, which was his specialty, as well as start putting feelers out in regards to general work. He would have hated to come this far out of his way, through a swamp, just to find absolutely nothing worth doing and be left with little more than wasted coin and departing for other places. Again. Though once dawn came around, after a few hours worth of sleep, he departed the tavern with barely a thought towards food. Sure, he had grabbed some bread rations before he departed the tavern with his meager belongings, and he made his way to the market district just as others were rousting themselves.

What Gerard would discover was irksome at best, and outright hazardous at worst. Not only was magic distrusted and generally frowned upon, which would extend to the magitech he was constantly working and improving on, but recent events had left an even more sour taste than usual. Sprites were ravaging the streets at night, agitated by gods knows what, and a curfew was routinely enforced now to prevent needless deaths. Well, the curfew he had caught wind of arriving as late as he did, but the why to it was sort of glossed over. Fortunate for him, and to an extent Kay and Kaite, that no such spirits had harassed them upon their own arrival so late into the night. Of course, his own attempts to look into this would have to wait until nightfall. As such, he departed from the markets with more information, though a lack of work or interest in magitech would mean that turning a profit here would be difficult without seeking out the nobility, which was never a good prospect.

"Yes, this Wanderneir is turning out to be ever so interesting in terms of business thus far. Blasted magiphobes. Though these sprites intrigue enough that I should at least look into it tonight..." Gerard was muttering under his breath, barely audible even if one was to stand right next to him. Staying to investigate tonight meant he would not likely be departing anytime soon, so he should find another tavern that he would be staying until the evening at. Perhaps find a quite corner to do some maintenance and experimentation on his weapons, probably the Longcaster. He had this sinking feeling that he would be far better off keeping his Shortcaster ready and close at hand. While he had not openly wielded magic, or hinted as such, his tools had gotten strange looks, so trouble might be coming his way, whether he liked it or not.

The sound of foreign music certainly caught Gerard's ear as he passed a tavern, and while he initially did not intend to stop, the encounter with that strange foreigner overnight was too much coincidence to simply ignore. Sure enough, upon entering and seeing the morning rush, they were being kept entertained by an old piano in the corner being played by that fellow Kaite. It seemed he had cleaned himself up rather nicely and found a tailor as well, or perhaps did his own stitchwork. Ordering a light breakfast, since a bread ration was hardly fitting if he was going to not be doing any involved work, he instead chose to claim a table near the piano, giving the curious tones a listen as he rested the Longcaster on the table and, in between bites of food once it arrived, began disassembling and doing repairs and maintenance first. The music reminded him of bards that had traveled south, though outside of a general direction, he had little to pin the music to, culture wise. He did speak idly, tone neutral and almost distracted, to the man as he played. Gerard was still unaware that Kaite was a construct as he did not look that closely for details in form or function. "Well, someone knows how to clean themselves up, don't they?"

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@Eisenhorn

Kaite's hands moved in fluid, practiced motions mirrored after observing a pianist once upon a time. The process ran instinctively as his mind raced with each face that he could pick out of the crowd, considering interactions with them before dismissing the idea [in favor of enjoying the task at hand]. Beginning another set, Kaite had immediately taken notice of Gerard entering the establishment, an eye lifting a bit higher than the other to watch the man place his order and seat themselves nearby.
As his briefly-known acquaintance began to speak, the construct's eyelids clicked with the impact of the material he was composed of, centering his eyes with the same sound as each finger pressing a key.

"Someone does! At least, I vould suppose so, ah?" Kaite ambiguously chirped in agreement, nodding to Gerard, an eye sticking from the slight glance. While one continued to focus on the keys, the other observed the man's work. Though his expression was locked in pleasant neutrality, there was more behind the stare than the looks others would have given him.
Patrons had come in with armaments of flint or wheellock , though the contraption Gerard operated on was curiously different in how familiar the aura it gave off was. "Iz...relaxant, havink tasks to keep zee hands busy. Order and pace, needink only zee right tools to keep time ehn measure tasks complete. You vould agree, Mister Gerard Voss?" Kaite began, probably being a bit bold in calling him by name though the two had not been so much introduced as the doll had merely overheard them introducing themselves to Kay. The notion of brashness did not seem to even occur as the music steadily droned on. "If I may ask, vaht iz eit you are doink? I may not haf previously been exposed to such a device," Kaite continued with his question, accent thick and vernacular painting a peek into an alien reasoning which concluded with, "Paerdon. I am now very curious of eits function."



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Sir Kay


Sir Kay still kept his arms folded when the so called temporary wizard seemed to cave in after hearing his name. Well, for once my reputation is doing something useful. He thought to himself as he listened carefully. And then he did something he did not quite like nor approve. He presented the cursed item before him. His eyes narrowed, as he almost reached for his sword, a reflex movement. Specially after hearing the word "lich"

"And yet you're parading it and handling as if it was your girlfriend's bauble." Sir Kay added."Do you think a cloth will stop the Lich's curse?" He chastised. "I've had the luck of never facing one, but if they're every ounce as they say, these demented old carcasses are if nothing, throughout." He grumbled, as he began to fumble in the crevices of his armor, producing a pristine white roll of bandage and a vial.

"This is an annointed bandage that the Abess of Aquilea granted me herself. Such a woman of generous heart." And a generous bosom... If we only didn't have our vows and duties... He thought to himself. "We will use this and this Holy Water to at least create a decent seal. It should do something. Specially if my suspicion is right and Old Wizard Bones is using the amulet as scrying anchor and hearing everything we say." He added while deftly enveloping the amulet in the blessed cloth. He was thankful he was wearing dragonhide gauntlets. Had he been barehanded, if he somehow brushed the thing by mistake... Well, he hoped the young wizard hadn't done so.

He then poured the holy water slightly on the wrapped amulet. And then, Sir Kay leaned towards Arlo, his head twisting left and right, making sure the guards were distracted left and right. If they caught on, there would be many questions. He raised a hand against the clothed amulet, and murmured a small chant. The faint glow of holy magic could be seen emitted from his palm onto the cloth, finishing the seal.

"That should at least do something." He finished as he leant backwards.
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ARLO

Despite Arlo being fully aware of his carelessness, being called out on it was an embarrassment of it's own kind. Especially since this time it wasn't his doting parents but Sir Kay, who must have come expecting some kind of wise old wizard but found this half exposed whelp of a man hardly able to protect himself against a curse. He had hoped that meeting him would go a little different than this.

While Arlo was grateful for the help in properly containing it for now, there was something deeply unsettling about watching the holy water fall over the artifact. Arlo ignored it, silently reasoning that it must be gravity of the item he found had finally settled in him. He looked down at the now empty but filthy bandage in his hand, he remembered what he had done the night before. The cut was still there but it wasn't deep enough to be of concern for him, after all it must have stopped bleeding sometime while he slept and was now scabbed over. He discarded the bandage before closing the door to his dwelling.

"Thank you, Sir. I don't have much experience in the way of curses. It's not something they teach back home." Arlo said, briefly reminiscing about his hometown. "But, I hope you'll find I'm still a capable mage. I may be young," Arlo paused, calling himself young was still strange. He was over the hill as far as Leveret go, but understood his true identity. "but in the last twelve hours I've saved the life of one and potentially dozens more by this discovery."

Arlo had a desire to "prove himself" to the knight. Part of him realized that it was immature, but he would be okay with that if he managed to gain even some inkling of respect as a peer.
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Sir Kay


"I know, that's why I am not slapping you on the head, master wizard." Kay harrumphed, his arms folded once again. And then he simply stopped talking, letting a long sigh, before undoing the straps of the helmet, revealing his face, disfigured by the burn and scarred. "I thought of myself capable, then I had this happened to me. All the time. There's a fine difference between being courageous and being utterly foolish." He paused. "And everyone makes mistakes and fumbles. Learn for it, and be thankful your face doesn't put off the ladies yet." He added, slapping his helmet back in place and doing the straps back again.

"Still, you're a bit lucky. Two people can cover eachother's mistakes. You won't be stuck as a frog on a swamp for two weeks, if I can help it." Kay added, being awfully specific. "Let's get this curse sorted out. And find you a holy magic teacher. It will help."
@Jojo


???? - Skies above Wanderneir


The rider shifted on the back of the beast thoughtfully, the wind sweeping his rugged bearskin coat and his own bushy beard. He gripped the reins of his saddle, as he let a predatory grin. He was a large man, draped in furs and chainmail, with coarse hair and icy blue eyes. A rugged man of the north. One of the bearskin warriors, judging by how he kept an axe on his waist. But it was his mount the most striking feature. A large creature with bright copper scales, glistening in the sunlight as if they were polished armor. Powerful wings and snout, with four clawed limbs. There was no mistaking it. It was one of the nastiest monsters one could hope to ever face.

A dragon.

"Well, girl..." The man said. "Let's give em a show. Sing for me!" He said, hitting the beast's body with his foot. The dragon inhaled and let out a roar louder than any warhorn known to man. The distinctive roar that would make men sink to their feet. That would shatter courage.

"Haha! Yes, that's the stuff." The warrior added. "Now down, there on the courtyard." He added, seeing the tiny little puny men beginning to scramble and take positions. They would never be fast enough to prevent this. With an elegant movement, the winged beast dived in, and landed almost gracefully on the courtyard, knocking over a couple of servants at most.

"Hail, King Lancaster of Wanderneir. I am Ulf, warrior or Queen Lamia of Yrdring, and a dragonrider! I bring forth a message from my Queen!" The brutish man rudely stated, not even bothering to drop down from the mighty beast. On second look, the dragon wasn't as big as the ones the legends told, and the scales were far too unmarred and shiny for it to be an old beast... but it looked quite a formidable opponent.

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ARLO


Arlo took a moment to study the burn scars covering the man's face, a shocking sight no doubt. If nothing else it proved to Arlo that the dragonscale he wore was well earned. Sir Kay's advice was heard, and Arlo would try to take his experience into consideration in the future. Arlo had scars of his own, most accidentally self-inflicted while practicing magic, but none as prominent and noticeable as the knights. The idea of journeying with this hero still a monumental excitement to Arlo, he smiled and bowed. He hoped that while making the trip, perhaps he might tell him stories of his life as a more seasoned adventurer.

The sudden and powerful roar shook Arlo to the core, almost knocking him off balance. It was not a sound he had heard before, but anyone could make an accurate guess as to what sort of beast could even manage something so terrifying. Instinctively, he looked to the sky for answers and saw it. There could be no mistake, a dragon had just flown into the city and landed nearby in the courtyard. Royal grounds. Screams of terror filled the streets of the city. After a moment of raw shock from the event, Arlo turned and took off towards the landing site.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Panic propelled the royal guards into formation, where tens on tens of men lined up on balconies with crossbows aimed toward the terrible reptile. Citizens of nobility visiting the castle grounds fled to the presumed safety deeper into the interior, where royal knights waited at the entrance ready with their weapons at the ready. The only thing that caused any sort of hesitation in firing on the dragon was the absurd sight of a man riding on it's back, and soon after the command of the king.

The man was well on in his years, his hair turned white like winter many years ago. He was unarmored, and not in the health to defend himself or his people against such a force should it attack. King Lancaster faced the beast and the man atop it, and spoke without fear.

"You've brazenly rode a monster into my courtyard and brought with you chaos to my city. You may skip the formalities, dragon rider. Deliver your message."

Lancaster believed it crucial to avoid a battle with the pair. While he was sure that the might of his army would be able to repel the threat should it come to it, the collateral damage was far too much to risk.
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Gerard Voss


The response was odd, given that it sounded like agreement but did not readily respond in a manner that was generally accepted. Rather than pursue it, he instead chose to focus on the Longcaster that was partially disassembled on the bench. Right now he was cleaning off the parts that had gotten dirty during the trip, since he didn't readily have the parts to seriously upgrade right now. He did speak on the matter of the keeping hands busy, order and pace, and the like. "Aye, I reckon you make a fair point. Tools and a task make for an excellent means of passing time." His gaze was focused on the Longcaster, though the use of his full name had not passed unnoticed. Outside of knowing a single name, Kaite, Gerard knew next to nothing about this fellow here besides talent with the piano, possibly tailoring, and little else. He was not fond of being in situations that he knew ever so little about, at least in a way that he couldn't go digging up more information and experiment in figuring it out. Though he was quick to ask after him and the weapon he was working on, and he chuckled, lifting up the frame for a better view briefly.

"Custom build, one of my longest lasting projects. Takes ambient mana in the air, and charges into a shot capable of reaching out farther than a bow or crossbow, most builds of them at any rate. Currently, it needs some routine maintenance and further planning on design." The explanation on function and design philosophy would take quite some time longer, but he gave a brief overview of it as he started putting it back together, having cleaned the parts. "To make it very brief, the barrel capacitor gathers mana from the surroundings, forming a cohesive round, and flinging it out a set distance. This wheel lock mechanism controls the range, and can outrange most crossbows or longbows of average make, in my experience. By far slower than those two, but I have plans to fix that..." Those plans involved more barrels, like his Shortcaster, or other modifications to the charging mana crystals in the barrel itself.

At this point, a rather loud roar pierced the room, echoing from its original source, and Gerard snapped his head up, looking in the direction of the noise. A curious expression, equal parts recognition and irritation, as he deftly finished putting together his Longcaster and rising to his feet. He slung it over his shoulder and sighed, irritation now growing apparent on his face. "And that likely needs investigating. Of course it does. You coming along, Kaite?"

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The focused eye flicked between Gerard's hands and the sections of the device he described. While etching the spoken details in his mind, Kaite continued to fumble over the thought as he endeavored to place reason behind the man's words and toil on the piano, simultaneously. Once Voss concluded his explanation, Katie once again spoke up, "Alzough I vould be intrigued to hear a less abridged version ouf your armament's finer details, eit vould haf to be at a later date."

There came a slight pause, as Kaite flourished on the keys, both eyes snapping back to the gesture before the other drifted once more to Gerard. "I had szought myself busy, ehn iz difficult to discern your elaborations on notion alone...especially vith such an accent zeht you possess," he concluded with a palpable second of hesitation before offering a sound which held a pace and tone as if it were intended to be a small chuckle, though it came out with a hiss and a blur of notes like trying to laugh through a musical instrument and almost managing to pull it off.
Just then, the roar shook through the establishment, rattling some of the glassware on shelves. Kaite, however, continued playing without missing a beat, though his eyes realigned to look out the window with a tilted head. As nothing immediately happened, he would not have given it another thought until Gerard offered for them to accompany him.

Surprisingly, Kaite simply stood, abandoning the instrument he had been just about to disregard the potential danger for. "Certainly. Iz certainly a curious land vith such sounds describable to be equally so, ah?" Kaite chirped, unperturbed and resolutely pleasant in his same expression as he put the cover back over the keys of the piano and waved his arms at his sides to re-settle the sleeves he had rolled up, seemingly ready to go in an instant.

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Darius


Darius rolled out of his cot at the inn and glanced outside, "Ah blast it ye old coot, sleeping through half the day. Bah!" He continued a stream of incomprehensible grumbling as he gathered his belongings and prepared himself for the day. Once done he went down stairs and ordered a huge breakfast with stout ale, it was late morning and the bar maid was not accustomed to serving ale so early. He hastily scarfed down the meal and payed for everything, with an extra silver for the maid.

He left the tavern and called the golems and cart to his side by simply shouting into the barn. He waited a moment while the large golem dragged the cart outside, "Right, c'mon ya fat bastard. We needa find that wizard boy, Whats his name?" he said to himself not looking in the direction of the Defender. "Some 'elp you are" he said scowling at the machine knowing full well it cant speak. "Me thinks to go 'round the castle, I 'ear the architecture is interestin' maybe find that lad."

We wandered the streets when a dragon roared overhead, "Well now, don' see them round these parts. Hrmmpf" he grunted not a fan of the dragons that liked to eat dwarves and lay claim to the treasure rooms of dwarven holds. Though few dragons are old or powerful enough to lay low the defenses of an ancient city, but new outposts are frequently raided. "Looks like a youngling, mayhaps a year or three?" he glanced at the defender Golem "Oh sod off, i ain't a dragon-ology expert. Ye may haveta help the guard lads, I dont 'spect they fight many o' the lizard bastards"

Darius started walking quicker, The golem simply lengthened its stride to keep pace as they neared the landing site of the dragon. Darius rounded the corner just as the king spoke to the dragon.. no, not the dragon, the rider. Darius slowed, not having seen a dragon rider before. He had heard of them, sure, but never really thought that they existed since the great war. Darius came to a stop a ways back not realizing he was within a dozen yards of Arlo his gaze transfixed by the young dragon. A dwarven battle Golem and a dragon in a human city is a rare site, seeing both in a single day would be a once in a life time situation.




Mortan


The Lich paced his stony room troubled at the implications of his vision through the mage. "The war was supposed to be over, it must be over... I... I dont remember enough, and too much." Mortan paused in his pacing, tracing a bone finger along his exposed jaw bone, "No, no, the living will always wage their petty wars... But if none are living..." The Lich trailed off as he came to a decision.

Mortan turned to a small heap of corpses, most of them where old and rotten away to skeletons but a few where dry and desiccated like the Lich himself. "To end them all.. Ill need more." He stood over the pile and began softly chanting, a green-black orb of power growing in front of him.

“gtrah iru fangra,
gtrah iru fangra,
gtrah iru fangra,
Iah, Iah, Iah, Iah!”


The orb sank slowly into the pile and deformed to cover the whole thing. Limbs started twitching and corpses began pulling themselves together and rising. Before long a dozen skeletons and dried zombies stood before Mortan, awaiting orders. "Come!" He commanded and began striding out of his little workshop, he Ascended some stairs, through a hall and into a light that hadn't struck him in hundreds of years. He stood on a balcony of a fort's keep. He stared at the wasteland arrayed around him. Still scarred with craters from ancient dwarven siege weapons and the land sundered from terrible magic from ages past. All around the fort was still dead, no plants or animals dared to near the fort as the ancient war had left a blight on the land.

"Where to begin"

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Sir Kay & The Messenger


Sir Kay's reaction to the roar was to quickly unsheathe the runic blade at his hip with phenomenal speed, his eyes shooting up in the sky. "Damn." He knew that sound. He knew that sound too well. He gritted his teeth? Have they come for me? No, this seems different. It was then when he realized the wizard was gone. Damnit. All that talk about being careful, and he probably was like a too curious child, what with probably running towards the dragon instead of seeking shelter.

He cursed under his breath as he covered his armor with the cape, following carefully Arlo in the courtyard. While the dragonscale was one of the best protections anyone could ever afford, it had one very big disadvantadge. It aggravated all dragons who caught sight of it, for it was a direct wound in their pride. Even if the beasts knew nothing of camaraderie, they would readily stomp the human who dare to kill one of them and wear their skin.

"Wondrous, isn't it? One roar of my beast and it shakes all your entire city." The messenger answered, with no small amount of arrogance. "This is the power of Yrdring now. A power that we can offer, o King of Wanderneir." He tilted his head. "You only need to swear fealty to Queen Lamia... as your High Queen. And she will provide all the might you can imagine to spare your kingdom... for levies and tribute of course." The rider cockily smirked, eyeing the dragon.

The beast was slightly restless, sniffing the air with its tongue intently. Something... semed to rouse the she-dragon.
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ARLO & KING LANCASTER


Arlo stood both in awe and in terror of the dragon and the threat it may pose. He stayed just behind the line of soldiers that had formed, not daring to break the formation of a bunch of anxious royal military. Still, he began to prepare himself to defend the city should it come down to it. He inhaled sharply through his nose, and his body drew in more mana than usual. The overload of power felt like a tingle under his skin. He was very careful with this technique knowing that if he overdid it his body would break apart.

The rider was essentially here to demand "protection money" like a common thug but on a much larger scale. Arlo didn't expect this to end well.
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The old King stared down the rider, furious with this farce of a request. In his younger years he might have already given the command to attack the intruder. But he knew that the wrong words here would certainly mean his own doom, as well as perhaps the entire city and kingdom itself. While the thought of dragons protecting his kingdom rather than razing it was alluring, the cost would probably mean the freedom of it's people.

"I can not simply hand over my kingdom to you." The king said coldly. "What happens if I refuse?"
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