Klein kept his head down, and Leif kept his nose up, their two bodies pressed close as Arion fumed and flew over the plains. Every second or so, another blast of psychic energy cratered the ground, but at this distance at least, there was still enough of a delay between the flash atop the mountain and the actual impact for the Wolfpack Shaman to maneuver, dodging by the nick of his skin even as he continued to burn out his resources slowly. In combat, after all, one’s MP did not regenerate naturally, and Arion was chugging through his MP in order to make it out alive.

So, what did he do? Simply sacrifice others.

One second elapsed, and the shot did not come. It streaked elsewhere instead, accompanied by the faintly visible rising of threads in the distance. Another second elapsed, and the sniper shot dogged his heel once more, as if to remind him that he was not off the hook yet. And so it continued, Leif chased by a sniper whose bullets traced him so long as he did not point elsewhere. Perhaps it was cruel, unusual. Perhaps Klein simply continued to bitch about how OP ranged was. But Leif’s strange partnership appeared to be working out, at least. And as Arion’s tank ran empty, as his own MP reserves dropped and he could no longer sustain his activities…the expected shot did not arrive.

Instead, there was a ping in his mind.

[quote]Killer Gram has sent a friend request.[/quote]

…

[b]“600 rishi? Dang, sounds good.”[/b] As the axeman figured out payments and rooming arrangements with Britomart, the others settled down at another table, happy to just be able to chill. The metalband youth turned to face Magpie as she spoke up, nodding in appreciation of her aesthetic.

[b]“Just travelling through ourselves. We're off to join the war effort, yeah? The [i]actual[/i] jobs sounded sorta bullshit n all.”[/b] A couple of them nodded in agreement, as the cloaks were stowed away and the weapons that any half-noteworthy Immortal would have glimmered in the Sweet Maid’s lighting.

[b]“Crazy place though,”[/b] commented the sage of the group, a wand hanging from his beaded sash. [b]“Literal inn in the middle of nowhere. No roads or anything. How did y’all find this place?”[/b]

A more rogue-like figure with a demonic half-mask covering the lower half of their face flicked out a couple of coins and waved at Britomart. [b]“Round o’ fruit juice, pretty miss~”[/b]