[right][img]https://i.imgur.com/PVqxlG7.png[/img][hr][/right]

Well. Leave it to those bottom dwellers to absolutely screw everything up. What could have been a nice, orderly search (with Locke getting there first, of course) turned into a shrieking bloodbath the moment anarchistic adventurers met orderly king-slaves. That wasn't to say that it was unexpected; having a full scale battle was going to happen at some point. For it to happen almost the second Locke entered the ruins...

That exceeded all expectations.

Fights broke out. Soldiers fought mercenaries. Mercenaries fought adventurers. Adventurers fought adventurers. Locke knew that he needed to escape the mess of carnage. Get to somewhere less chaotic than the entrance. Leaving was most definitely not an option. The sound of knocked arrows and screams could only mean there was a massacre. [i]What a sad series of events and needless lost of life,[/i] was what someone who actually cared would think. Frankly, the only thing Locke thought about in that moment was [i]how bothersome[/i].

For now, he needed to escape. With a near inaudible whistle, the blue fairy that once surveyed the sky returned. While it had not spotted what the falling star was, it at a general approximation of where it was. With finger outstretched, it pointed to where he needed to go. Breaking into a sprint, Locke followed his fairy's directions as he avoided whatever conflict he could. His gaudy outfit lost much of its provocation as nearby splatters of blood and dirt quickly clung to it. It helped that most people were more focused on staying alive or murdering each other. 

As he charged through the crowded fight, a nearby adventurer—bandit, more like—noticed him. With sword in hand, he charged at Locke. The attacking man's taunt sounded more like an unintelligible snarl. No, less than that. Even beasts had some sort of beauty and understanding in their posturing. Without a second thought, Locke prepared a magic.

[color=EB9B40]"Izh icha sa izh."[/color]

Two black coils formed within his palms, connected together by a thin string. He threw his arms forward, the black coils unwinding as they flew towards two brawling men on opposite sides of the unclear path. As the black coils struck, they coiled around their legs. The thin string thickened as was absorbed into an ever growing black rope. The charging adventurer-bandit, unaware that the rope had formed, tripped on it. His face met with the ground as the running Locke ran over his body, not caring enough to actually fight. Approaching the collapsed end of the street, he spoke to his fairy once again.

[color=EB9B40]"Send me over,"[/color] he calmly been barked out.

The fairy quickly flew ahead of him, a cyclone of wind forming between its hands. It collected as Locke drew closer. When he finally arrived to the wall, the summoner leapt at the fairy. With a great blast of air, he was sent towards the sky. He could clear the ruins in a single bound.

But man was not meant to fly like this. As soon as he cleared the rubble separating the main road with side roads with rubble, he plummeted back towards the ground. His innate, mountain man physique came in handy as his feet slammed into the ground, carrying forth his body with a painful roll. Nothing was broken, but it was certain he would feel that for the coming weeks. In his pained daze, he pushed onwards to where the fairy was pointing. He was still cognizant of those hiding in the shadows. Someone hiding could be a death sentence. He moved from alley to alley, careful to not attract the ire of anyone.

What he wasn't cognizant of was someone with the audacity to charge through the alleys at maximum speed.

As he cleared the corner of another alley, he felt another collision. This time from the side, it launched him across the road he had once tried to enter, his body sliding across the ground. His clothes ripped as the rough dirt-rock road dug deep. The sheer amount of layers he wore managed to protect his skin. For only mere moments, Locke lay groaning on the ground. His small fairy did its best to lift him by his hair. Picking himself up to catch the identity of the carriage that rammed into him, he saw a woman and only that. It was almost as if it were a scene straight out of a shlocky romance novel that ever-so-cleverly disguised itself as a philosophy book.

Certainly she didn't have the visage of a freakish adventurer who was ready to murder him. Rather, she looked like a noble compared to the average adventurer. Though, that wasn't difficult. Any modicum of self-care would turn a pauper to a princess in comparisons. Appearances could always be deceiving, however. The fairy that pointed him towards the center could have just as easily wanted to see Locke eat shit. The fact of the matter was that she was standing with spear in hand. Locke was on the ground, dazed and battered.

Unlike his earlier approach of being a solo act, his approach had changed. He needed someone who he could trust to not stab him in the back. At least, not until he could escape. Wealth alone had been replaced with preservation with others. The apes who resided on the flatlands were strong together. He would begrudgingly follow that wisdom.

[color=EB9B40]"Say, you seem to have your wits about you,"[/color] he told the woman who just crashed into him, wheezing between words. For someone who had the wind knocked out of him twice, he was doing quite well. [color=EB9B40]"People call me Locke, to whom do I have the pleasure of running into this... battle."[/color]

That's what the books about introductions said, right? Making a good impression, introducing yourself, and adding some "humour" to lighten the mood. Impression was a definite check, as he was launched a considerable distance. He introduced himself with a pun. Surely that humour would be enough, he thought. His tone was, unsurprisingly, cold. Little emotion penetrated his words, besides pain from all the wheezing.