[center][h2][color=b284be]Damon Howard[/color][/h2][/center][hr][hr]Sitting cross-legged, Damon peeled off his holey socks. Though he wasn’t being careless, per se, his clawed fingers made additional punctures in the cloth. [color=b284be]“Hm.”[/color] This could be a hassle.

With all the otherworldly, fantastic things going on, it was simpler to focus on the most mundane concerns – at least until he got his bearings.

Huffing, he balled up the socks, pushed them into the shoes, grabbed the sneakers and picked himself up.

The ground was really soft, and pleasant to burrow his toes into. The dewy grass was cool, but not uncomfortably so.

The Song still beckoned them, and Damon looked around to try and find its source.

However, he was distracted by Odaya, who began laughing at them all. [color=b284be]“Yeah, I’m sure that’s this world’s idea of a joke,”[/color] he retorted to her remark, rolling his eyes. Maybe it was because he’d been one of those acting as a demon in that one play. Or it was a terrible pun on his name.

…Possibly it was something melodramatic about how he viewed himself, or how he thought others did.

But there were much more fun and wondrous things to think about.

At Audrey’s prompting, a tall, thin man approached them. He was a tad vampiric, but the strangest thing about him was that scar. The youth stared at it for a long, moment, before realizing that was probably rude. Then, his gaze settled on the glowing collar-like symbol.

Which was likely also impolite, so he looked into the man’s eyes instead.

But, just then, the guy bowed to them. Really low.

And, wow, that was a lot of hair to manage.

When Eckehart rose up, Damon gave him a bemused nod, then felt prompted to bow in return. It was shallower, and less refined, the kind he’d given to Odaya what felt like forever ago. [color=b284be]“Hello…?”[/color] he greeted with an awkward smile.

All sorts of questions were trying to bubble to the surface. [color=b284be]“Is that from an injury?”[/color] Since his thoughts were so disordered, perhaps it was inevitable that the first one to emerge was inappropriate. [color=b284be]“Uhhh…”[/color] his cheeks coloured as Damon forced himself to ignore that scar. [color=b284be]“Sorry, never mind that.”[/color] Sheepish, he looked away. His gaze was drawn to the dragon. [color=b284be]“Is that…? Are they….Ru-la-ni-a?”[/color] he carefully worded the name. He wasn’t all that certain about his guess, but he was sure that the dragon was at least somehow related.

Emboldened now that they had a guide – that they weren’t just entirely unto themselves in a strange new world – Damon followed after Eckehart. He had to move somewhere between a quick walk and a light jog to catch up, but didn’t seem bothered by that. [color=b284be]“True Voice?”[/color] he questioned. He assumed that's what that Song was. [color=b284be]“Do you hear it, too?”[/color] He really hoped ‘all would become clear’, because in stories, cryptic remarks like that weren’t usually followed by immediate explanations.

He glanced at Zeke when the teen said this seemed suspiciously good. [color=b284be]“It is a weird situation,”[/color] Damon had to acknowledge. [i]Weird[/i] didn’t even begin to describe it. And, if it weren’t all so beautiful, enthralling, and enchanting, maybe he would call out the strangeness; compare it to a kidnapping scheme, or some cult thing.

But when the Song was so sweet, how could it be bad?

Freyja pranced past him, remarking that at least he didn’t have hooves. [color=b284be]“You got used to those fast, though,”[/color] Damon pointed out, amused.

They delved from the island into the city. It was a city unlike any he’d ever seen, but there were building, roads, bridges, stalls…It was recognizable, just foreign. The roofs were vibrantly coloured, some buildings had no edges he could see, and some were overgrown by foliage – or made in the hollows of trees and the like? There were numerous shopkeeps peddling their wares, and people – beings? – were dancing, and drinking, and buying, and watching…

He didn’t know if there was a single ‘human’ there, though many were humanoid. A charming dark gray lady, long tail swooshing behind her, pink tufts on its end; her long light gray hair braided and beflowered, a light almost see-through dress adorning her. A cheerful white-haired boy perching on a thin laundry line, huge white wings folded behind him. A being of unknowable age and gender, who was all fire, and magma. A green male naga. A chunky, furry, horned and teethed and multi-eyed thing (person?) who could walk on all fours or stood up on their hind legs to tower over everyone else.

Some of them had the same symbol as Eckehart, and each of them bowed. Damon nodded and waved to each of them in return.
But from all of those, their guide was the only one receiving gifts. So, maybe, he was the senior herald? Still, if these beings were special, then what about them, whom Eckehart had called honoured guests? If they were all chosen, or called here for some reason…They must be important, too.

Why them? And for what purpose?

Maybe they were about to find out.