With the frontline staying back and the backline moving in, there was once again some sort of strange inversion happening with the party. Perhaps it would be fine though; after all, Amulak was still one of the tankiest members of the team, while Raime was still reasonably fast. It would be fine. It was fine.

Scaling through the ruins with as much stealth as possible from a mage in plate and a one-armed scout, the duo were fortunate enough to avoid encountering any monsters, taking to the shadows of moss-grown walls and ducking beneath gnarled, uprooted trees. Beyond the muted extolment of near-demonic violence, there was nothing that clued them in whether or not the gang of lamias had actually nested here. No scales, no trails, and certainly no glimpses of half-snake booty. It made reaching Lugh easier at least, with the duo taking to the outside of dilapidated building, just in case the old ruins collapsed. Occasionally scrambling over rubble and occasionally climbing up with cracks and windowsills as holds, they ascended swiftly, the quick glances they took of the building's interior not showing them any monstrous threats.

And then, just like that, they were up on the roof, just ten meters below the treetop-bound Lugh. Before either of them could get a word in edgewise, however, the man himself turned, his bangs having gotten edgy enough that both his eyes were covered now, like the protagonist of a more...illicit work.

[b]"Oh hey,"[/b] Lugh said in a neutral tone. [b]"Where's the rest of you?"[/b]
[sub][@Shovel][@Searat][@Psyker Landshark][@OwO][@Yankee][/sub][hr]
Cramped, claustrophobic, yet incredibly thin. Like hiding in a cardboard box, Ari's choice of a hiding spot constrained herself yet did not dull her sense of hearing in any way. Was the carpet threadbare, enough that it was obvious? Was her tail actually tucked into the furled fabrics? Had she perhaps made a mistake with her model's assets, and there were actually three distinct bulges in what should've been a uniform cylinder? All those questions and more may have raced through the catgirl's head, if she hadn't yet surrendered herself to the peace that was 'brain empty', but the footsteps of Man-Joji continued to approach, all the way until it sounded as if the ring-adorned merchant was standing right behind her.

Seconds crawled to minutes, her fight-or-flight instincts triggering the time perception dilution that ordinarily should've only happened during combat. She could hear him now, a murmur mixed between confusion and irritation. Yet his hands did not reach into the cart, and Ari remained unrevealed.

That was, until Man-Joji called out. [b]"Oi, you there! Where did those Immortals go?"[/b]

And Ari remembered. The fisher boy by the river, who had stolen glances in her direction on more than just a few occasions. Had he seen her slip in? Or would he have just thought she'd left afterwards? In the breadth of time between question and answer, there was a choice to make.

Ante up or fold.
[sub][@GreenGoat][/sub]