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Alja sighed, resting her cheek against the bar as she lost herself in thought. [color=d1fffc][i]The gods, huh?[/i][/color] If only. it would make things a lot simpler, wouldn't it? But no matter the heart-to-heart they were having, she couldn't explain to her that she'd been coming to this world as an avatar in a video game locked into her dreams. Trailing her finger along the edge of the flagon almost meditatively, she found herself stuck in her thoughts. Didn't fail anyone, hmm? Well, that was a flat-out lie. The only job of the wayfarers was to clear the dungeons and keep the world of Aetheria safe. They hadn't. Failing that, the purpose of wayfarers was to protect the denizens in more clean-cut ways; escorting them from city to city as guards, searching the wilderness for a plant that was needed to cure a sick elder from a terrible cough. They hadn't They had shirked everything that a Wayfarer was. And so they had failed. And ain't their fault they couldn't go back? That was true enough, she supposed, but it was still their fault they were [i]here[/i] to begin with. They'd made a conscious decision to put that headset on each and every time they played. Nobody was forcing them. They'd become part of this world by choice. But now that their choice had been taken away, they were supposed to be able to pull away from the world, and it was all supposed to be okay? Something about it didn't sit right with her. 

She was afraid of dying. It was why she hadn't gone with the group to clear the dungeon in the Western Marshes instead of rat hunting in the sewers. That it had turned into a dungeon wasn't relevant. She was afraid, and that was understandable, she thought. On earth, in Edinburgh, life-or-death situations were the exception, not the rule. But if she let that fear stop her from doing what she needed to do...that was less understandable. And yet still, she felt it. Shout at her friends about protecting the denizens—the people—under their care all she wanted, that didn't change that she was scared. But clearly, this world had a need for wayfarers. It ran under the assumption that there would [i]be[/i] wayfarers to clear the dungeons. But now there weren't. And so the world's needs were not met. Only they could purge them. So if not them, who?

So they couldn't pull away from the world. If they were trapped here, then they couldn't treat it like the game it was rapidly ceasing to be. If they were trapped here with these people, then it didn't matter that they might have been code, might still be code. They were still people now for all intents and purposes. To stop clearing the dungeons would be to break a fundamental part of the world. And if the world went, then so did they, right? The world [i]needed them.[/i] Perhaps the thought came to her out of egotism. But she didn't think so.

But on one thing, Dariel was right. The best that they could do was handle it the best they could. For some, that might mean doing the jobs that needed doing in the cities. For some, it might mean hiding, doing their best to ignore the situation entirely. She didn't think any less of them. A part of her wanted to do that too. But it was the lesser part of her, born of that primal fear. For her, 'doing the best she could' meant going out and doing what wayfarers did. Because if wayfarer's didn't...

...Then who would?

Her face cleared. Set now in her resolve—do what must be done, remain calm, always be a presence to fall back to, protect as best she could—she sat up straighter, shooting a loose salute at Dariel with as a quick grin came to her face. "[color=d1fffc]Well, you've given me a lot to think about, haven't you? And it's stuff that needed thinkin' 'bout. You ever need anythin', you just let me know.[/color]"

She sighed again as Seele called her over, but a different kind of sigh, and her grin blossomed into a full smile. She lifted the flagon, and with a quick "[color=d1fffc]Cheers![/color]" drained the orange juice in one long draught.[color=d1fffc][i]Good goddamn, that's good[/i][/color]—before tilting her head at Dariel. "[color=d1fffc]Guess that's my cue, huh?[/color]" As she rose from the seat where she'd been slumped, her brow was clear, and so were her thoughts. Truly, she needed to be [i]better[/i] than she had. Taking the first step towards the table, she shot one final glance back to the tavern keeper, smile still bright on her face. "[color=d1fffc]...And thanks, Dariel. Thanks a lot. Seriously, I owe ya one, hey?[/color]"

Then she clomped over to the table and slung herself down in a chair sideways, pitching her legs over an arm and laying her own arm casually on the table. "[color=d1fffc]Sorry 'bout all that, not very Guard of my Frost.[/color]" She winked at Artemis and turned the full force of her smile straight at her, determined now to be a comforting presence. "[color=d1fffc]So, what'd I miss?[/color]"