[color=#6ecff6][center][sub][h1][b]Siegfried Aschwin[/b][/h1][/sub][img]https://i.imgur.com/bYbIH9t.png[/img]
Location: The Wilds[/center][/color][hr]Siegfried rose slowly from the ruined shell of the silent knight, his joints popping in protest against the cold and the adrenaline fading from his blood. The stench of the dead man inside the armor lingered, clinging to the inside of his nostrils. He turned his head and spat a thick glob of saliva into the snow, aiming deliberately near the headless corpse of the blond mage.

Golden motes of aura were drifting up from the bodies now, swirling lazily in the cold air like lazy fireflies. To most, they might look beautiful, ethereal. To Siegfried, they looked like poison leaving the body. As a cluster drifted near his face, he backhanded the air with a short, sharp motion, and instead of passing through his flesh, the magic flared violently. It burned a bright, angry orange for a fraction of a second before snuffing out entirely, leaving nothing but the smell of ozone in his wake.

He didn't waste time marveling at the phenomenon. A dead mage was a good mage, but a looted mage paid for the next meal.

He moved first to the headless boy. The kid had been dressed well beneath his tabard, too well for a simple patrol. Siegfried knelt, his hands moving with practiced efficiency to produce a heavy pouch that clinked with a dense, satisfying sound—platinum, by the weight of it. More interesting was a small, ornate vial tucked into a padded inner pocket containing a thick, golden liquid that caught the sun and seemed to hold it. Siegfried eyed it, gave it a gentle shake, and tucked it into his own pouch without a word.

Next was Goldchain, lying in the snow where the blue-haired woman had hamstrung him. He found another pouch of platinum, identical to the first. Beneath the man's breastplate, wrapped in a scrap of silk, Siegfried found something heavier: a chunk of solid Aurite, which he wrapped back up quickly and stowed away.

Finally, he returned to the ruined silent knight, where Brig had already done the work of severing the aura threads. Siegfried rummaged through what little remained of the corpse's clothing with a grimace, his fingers closing around something hard and faceted. When he pulled it out, wiping the coagulated blood on the corpse's tabard, he held a gemstone the color of a bruised plum. It was dark, sullen violet, and it felt cold even through his callouses; he pocketed it too.

Only then did he stand and take full stock of the newcomers. The giant woman who had punched Goldtooth into the middle of next week was still radiating heat, her eyes slowly returning to normal. The blue-haired assassin who had hamstrung Goldchain stood near the horned woman, quiet and watchful. Siegfried gave them a brief, assessing look, capable, dangerous, and currently useful. He could work with that.

He listened to the doctor's introduction, his eyes tracking the man's casual posture. Soren, he called himself, offering healing that was useful, though Siegfried needed none himself. But when the man spoke of his true intentions, taking the bodies for scholarly interest, studying magekind through their remains, the air around Siegfried seemed to drop another ten degrees.

When the 'doctor' spoke of scholarly interest and studying magekind by taking the remains, a profound, visceral disgust curled Siegfried's lip. He had spent his childhood strapped to tables while men with soft smiles and scholarly interests took him apart to see how he worked. They had called it 'study' too.

Siegfried stepped over the headless corpse, placing himself deliberately between Soren and the bodies. His pale, inhuman eyes fixed on the physician, the pupils narrowing to absolute slivers of ice.

[color=#6ecff6]"Study,"[/color] Siegfried repeated, the word tasting like ash in his mouth. He didn't raise his voice, but it carried perfectly. [color=#6ecff6]"You want to peel them open and see what makes them tick. Because it's an 'opportunity.'"[/color]

He took half a step forward, looking up to the physician, the fresh blood of the mages still slick on his axe and hands.

[color=#6ecff6]"I've known men like you. Men who look at a body and see only meat to be weighed and magic to be measured."[/color] He gestured sharply toward the ruined silent knight. [color=#6ecff6]"That thing right there? That's what happens when scholarly interest decides the dead are just material. I'll have no part in your desecration of the dead, whether for your science or not."[/color]

He shifted his grip on the axe, just slightly. [color=#6ecff6]"The living one is for questioning. The dead ones get buried or burned. You touch them with a scalpel, doctor, and I'll see how interesting your insides are."[/color]