Una and Ailis - Chapter 1: Gust from Another World

Seven Serpents Tavern
Modia
Dis

Rickety, but quaint. The Seven Serpents Tavern, what with its enclosed spaces, warm fire, and familiar faces, was the picturesque spot to hang around come day or night for countless men and women of the Modia town. Ragged beards, dusty farmer's clothing, full mugs, bits of hay and dirt strewn about the floor. Despite its homely appearance and questionable sanitation, the people couldn't help but feel all the more at ease and well with themselves. This was the norm, and so they acted normally.

All of them, save for one huddled group in the corner of the tavern. Aside shouts of great success out on the fields and raunchy nights with wives, incomprehensible blathering of drunkenness, the twitchy group kept quiet, their words whispering and cautious, as if the nobodies they sat around were of any danger to them should they come to hear. Rather, they kept quiet in fear of disrupting the happiness around them. They kept the terror and despair well-locked within themselves, quite considerate to their neighbors. Word of it getting out might set about something altogether worse than what they saw and heard already.

Two rather out-of-place individuals sat together in their own circular table, a magnitude cleanlier than the rest of their surroundings. Nevertheless, their piercing stares reflected their resolve, as well as their experience. For the mercenary, the thief, the assassin... all could have their worth evaluated with but a glance, and for the two girls, they passed with flying colors. Both of their trained ears, their expertise in wasting little time, allowed for the huddled group's whispers to be audible. Tables away, they listened intently to the rumors.

"No, no. Those claims are just paranoia. I saw them with me own eyes. Right there, over the Tiriel lake, floating like damned dragons! I say I never seen no contraption like it!"

"How big was 'e?"

"Oh bigger than any dragon, that's for sure! I could fit me entire farm on its back!"

"I hear its got a banner like death."

"You sure you weren't just see'in no dragon?"

"Sure as hell! This thing ain't got no wings, it didn't breath no fire! Patched up with metal and wood it was!"

"Flyin' ship it seems, eh? Drerie?"

"Nah. I hear from my cousin, she says the guys that got off o' it, were common humans... except for one." The group huddled closer as one of the men finished his last sentence with eeriness and caution. With shifty eyes, he took another swig of his ale and continued on.

"Except for one man... The captain. Red cloak, and a skeletal face. Only the wisps of a ghostly body filled his burly clothes. He was undead I tell ya." The group fell into a slight laughter, obviously dismissing the man's claims. A ship they could believe, but an undead captain!

A sailor's tale, it must be.

Veyati - Chapter 1: Keen Interest

Since embarking out into Aurora, Veyati and the crew of her mess-work of a ship made for what they could; in the clutter of space that was inner Aurora, laying eyes upon a Sphere was as easy as picking out a water bird floating lazily in a still lake. From there, it was but a toss of the coin to set course for one of them. With so many to choose from, and very little knowledge of what each held, the crew resorted to chance, to luck.

Each pointed out a specific Sphere with their finger, deeming it their favored destination. The captain thought of a number one through one-hundred, and the passenger closest to his number was deemed the victor, and their Sphere set as the destination course. Veyati had pointed out a watery Sphere, thick with clouds that would have seemed dreary and off-putting to any other. For Veyati, however, they seemed quite subdued. Hers was the closest number, but the captain's subtle nod in her direction offered a less fair truth.

The ship was set into motion, having decided the destination, and they made way towards that little foggy Sphere in the distance. Along the way, altogether faster ships made themselves apparent, but given their haste, it seemed as though Veyati's ship was of little concern, despite how old it looked and the direction it came from. Their first hours into the world were uninterrupted.

Upon approach to the intended Sphere, however, interest from the surrounding world began to shift. No longer were they simply passed by, but as they neared the Sphere's surface, tiny vessels approached their flanks. The floating platforms looked more like flying dinner tables with wings than airships, but their speed and purpose quelled such silly appearances. Two of them flew to Veyati's ship's side, stood upon by a single soldier clad in sky-blue armor and bearing formidable spears. They stared intently at their ship from outside, keeping pace but a fair distance away. Eventually, however, they too lost interest, waving to the flying table's pilots to simply move away and off to other things.

Their descent into Garuda went unimpeded.

---------

Having switched to a wealthy supply of liquid mana, the ship descended with some turbulence, making its way to a relatively flat set of grasslands a ways away from the city they had initially come upon. They powered down, and the captain shouted a few words to the rest of the crew before opening up the main door, letting a wholly unfamiliar smell into the ship. It was much like home, except it was a little windy, somewhat colder and... smelled of salt. The grass rolled on the wind with a hint of moisture clinging to its blades.

In the distance, tiny lamps lit up the blackened walls of a seaside town, hidden behind a sweeping layer of fog.

Lithus - Chapter 1: Out of the Sky

Bulwark Ecumenopolis

It seemed, at the very least, relatable. The library was filled with that which Lithus based his existence around, and so he took a vague comfort despite the menial task which had been given to him. For all his knowledge, all his experience, and all his fervor in the art of learning and discovery, Lithus was immediately put to a less prideful job within the library he had found himself within.

The Bulwark Archives of Late King Venarl was the largest of the empire, situated amidst a wondrous area of the city laced with the remnants of still-flowing natural rivers. Upon the isle within those encircling rivers sat the chapel-like establishment that was the library, dominated by buttresses and glazed circular windows. With spires standing well above the rest of the buildings nearby, it acted like a sort of beacon to Lithus when he had first come across its vision, enticing him closer into its paper depths.

But when he asked about the prospect of having a job there, he was not denied, but nevertheless given a rather pitiful rank within it. For the time being, he acted as a simple sorter and deliverer, tasked with organizing books, returning them to their place, or attending to a visitors request. His attempts to glorify his own knowledge and prowess went unnoticed, even flat out denied. A strange man appearing out of nowhere and claiming greater wisdom than the one who offered him the job? Ridiculous!

Lithus found himself gathering some stacked books from a top a mahogany table, lit dimly with the glow of a tiny powered mana crystal. Given the size of the library, it was common to find oneself alone and amidst silence. At the time, there was no one around him. No one sat at the empty tables, and no one weaved through the massive bookcases towering high enough to touch the next floor level. Not even the faintest whisper of a turning page caught his ear. He continued on with his work, and with time, noise returned to the world.

From across the open room, a well-armored soldier came into view, his metal greaves clattering upon tiled floors. He paid no mind to Lithus, and simply proceeding through the room and to the other side, disappearing into a curved hallway. It was not surprising in the least for Lithus, he knew well the situation. As the Silence of Life had set in, a great number of petty crimes had begun to occur, especially in areas focused upon knowledge or magic. The people became desperate to solve the issue, and books had begun to disappear from their shelves, never to be seen again. And so the city applied the watchful eye of its military to maintain control over their endless papery wealth.

Once again, the world returned to silence.

Ley - Chapter 1: Kindred Spirits

Reawan City
Garuda

It had become clear, in the days Ley had spent wandering the town, that culture of Garuda was founded upon whispers, on rumors and myths and gossip. It was the lifeblood that fueled the paranoid nature of its residents, who ultimately seemed to revel in the atmosphere of constant fear and skepticism. Without it, they might have finally gone mad at the thoughts of terrors lurking on their very lands.

See, it was rumors that perpetuated the notion that a great deal of the dark things that happened were but wive's tales. The more one talked about it, whispered about it, the less it seemed like a real thing. Less like it actually happened. A rumor would become just that; a rumor. And the missing daughter of the family down the street would become but another tid-bit of gossip that nobody believed. Only the victims would ever retain the idea that what happened, actually happened.

The mayor liked it this way. and the mayor before that. The cycle and behavior ensured that angry mobs never rose up in arms to take on an evil they couldn't face. Otherwise, it was the mayor's life on the line.

Ley, though dreary and otherworldly to the people of Raewan, managed to fit in all because of it. No one approached her in displeasure of her presence. They would simply turn to gossip and her existence would merely become a rumor.

"Isn't that... her?" they would say, but in a moment another would bring about some quality that had been warped into the myth, and she would suddenly be many orders away from the "Ashen Woman". For her, it was the perfect environment, rife to spread mystery and confusion... and of course rumors themselves. In her warped mind, all that she could dream of doing was at her fingertips. What could she possibly do that the darkness has not already done to the Sphere? Hers would be just another instance of a gruesome demise, blown away into the wind that was Garudan myth.

Cross - Chapter 1: A Proposal

It was strange, coming back to a world where one could actually deduce what they were standing upon. In all its chaos and assortment, the appearance of mixed earth had become a great deal more pleasurable than a smooth surface of unknown quality. Vast fields of smooth steel did not a good sight make. Cross found himself back upon Dis, his homeworld, to eventually find his previous master's despair altogether unwarranted; there was peace, a great deal of it. Besides the haunting issue behind the Silence of Life, all seemed well. To some, it might have been a relief to be integrated into one's home devoid of fighting and strife.

For Cross, who was raised upon battle, it might have seen like a boring prospect. What was he to do then? There existed many worlds out there, and surely the Silence could not be attributed to his Sphere of Dis alone. The issue of transportation was the most pressing; Dis owned no airships of its own, and beyond the presence of Drerie long away in their skies, all of them were ignorant to the existence of a whole fleet of worlds beyond.

How, then, was he to move off of this remote world? Unless he had a method of boarding a dragonborn ship, he had no way of getting anywhere and resolving the issue. Even then, he might have to hijack their ship, for it is well-known that the dragonborn do not leave their home Sphere for much else other than Dis. It was quite the predicament, especially considering every damned individual knew nothing about the Silence Rarely, if ever, would one utter a word more than, "It is beyond me." But, as all prospects seemed lost, Cross, within days of arriving back upon Dis, came across a particular bit of information.

Pirates.

Pirates had descended upon Dis, and not from their own Sphere, but from elsewhere, far outside the realm of Dis and Drerie. It was an intimidating idea, but at the time, it seemed his only chance at finding his way into civilized Auroran territory. They had arrived on a massive airship, stooped over the lake in Modia, apparently themselves looking for treasure on the Sphere.

Cross had his wits to use, but he knew, ultimately, that he'd have to pay in some way to get anywhere.

Scipio - Chapter 1: To Drink from the Fountain

Tenshan
Just outside the Bulwark Empire

The farmlands could easily be summarized in a single word; unperturbed. Independent of the grasp of a larger force, Tenshan enjoyed relative solitude and tranquility amidst the Spheres. Even under the pressure of the Silence of Life, it seemed as if its peoples went on oblivious to its effects, or their satisfied but busy nature did not permit them to worry. The farmers and their families continued as per normal, even as the unfamiliar face of a Drider had shown himself but a few days prior. They were almost like the wildlife of a newly discovered land which had not seen a human face in all of time; they reacted with near-indifference. One could go as far as to say Scipio, the clearly wealthier, more powerful, and alien being, was seen as but another commoner on the Sphere. He was treated as equally as the farmers treated their neighbors.

In this sleepy, clockwork world, Scipio found himself searching for the lingering traces that a Drider like himself, his mentor, had even set upon its surface. It was clear that he had been there, but from where he had thereupon traveled to, was beyond the memory of the locals. Much like Scipio then, he too must have been treated the same, and his adventures, origin... they too went unnoticed. With so little occurring on the Sphere, it was easy to recall new faces, but with all their indifference, not much was gleaned beyond their appearance and name. Even then, it seemed, Scipio could find few who even recalled the latter.

"He stayed around for a week or two. Ain't got an idea what he was here for or where he went, sorry lad," they would respond to Scipio, bringing him no closer to the proper direction. But then, as all possibilities seemed lost, a miracle of information passed by him, and despite its suppositions, it was surely a valuable addition. It came from a young boy in a simple town, an adventurous little one, who seemingly adored Kyarian while he was around. His persistent efforts to raise answers out of him led to him being the most knowledgeable of all the Sphere.

"He was looking for someone, yep. He stayed for a bit, doing cool stuff. You and him are the same, right? Where are you from? What are you-" he had to be redirected back to the question at hand, clearly excited by Scipio's appearance. "Yes, yes. I talked to him on the last day. He took a ship off to the empire, said he finally met with a man who pointed him in the right way. Who's he lookin' for?"

The clue was vague, of course; the Bulwark Empire constituted at least 12 Spheres all on its own, and which one Kyarian headed to was left unanswered. The journey seemed to snowball within a single day however, as Scipio was this questioned by someone else.

The small individual had appeared in the night, approaching Scipio with an interest and intent absent in the rest of the populace. The weapon she carried and the painted, white, canid mask she wore was testament to the fact that she was clearly of another Sphere, as out-of-place as Scipio himself. Despite her minuscule size, standing but at his hip level, she spoke with confidence and purpose.

"This man you're looking for. He's following the same individual I am," she plainly stated, motioning to skip past formality. She evidently was quite sure of what was going on, "I have been here for the last month, looking not for your man, but for his man." Her posture and steadfastness broadcast a powerful signal; she wanted to work with Scipio. Despite how far from him she seemed, she appeared to be the only one with a clue on the Sphere. It was her, or another week of searching aimlessly in the riff-raff of farmlands.

Leffi - Chapter 1: The Key

Garude

It was but another node on the path to capture, this time quite a bit slower and more dreary, but with the experience upon Sabaton she possessed, Leffi found Garude to be a light breeze in comparison to home. Its populace was wary, isolating themselves from Leffi as best they could. Only the rugged faces working the docks and ships seemed to act instantly warm to her. Her own tough aura was like a kinship in some respects, though most of the men and women she saw were clearly not of the same profession. Nevertheless, their own profession lended to a sternness that allowed for proper interaction, minus the quivering and hushed tone.

Looking for an airship then was easy, though it was clear she needed to wait a small while for the next lift to Bulwark to arrive. In the meantime, Garude proved to be quite the vile place. It was almost sickening to see so much madness prevalent in a population infinitely more well-off than the residents of urban Sabaton. What did they have here that was so much more worse that they could derive so much fear and rumor? In the sanctity of their homes and city, they seemed more like complaining nobles with too much time on their hands than truly suppressed by evil.

Then again, Leffi didn't wander far from the safety of town to notice much darkness.

The airship had finally arrived, a medium-sized craft of white and bronze that lit up the black waters below it like an angel descending into a suffering earth. Her ticket in hand, she set for the airship, headed for Bulwark and the man on her hitlist.

Cross - Chapter 1: A Proposal

Cross through the long grass, following the pirate rumors. Second and third hand rumors were about all he was hearing up until now, but things were getting clearer. He'd been dropped off by a Zaitchek guild ship that had been picking up a small amount of Excessively rare Thanatite. It's rarity and usefulness meant that even the small amount would be enough to finance the entire expedition. They'd put down during the dead of night just north of Invidia, meeting with some Orcs that they'd formed a secretive working relationship with.

That was over a week past and now he was finding himself walking across the plains of Modia. As much as he would have loved to have gone north into Ira and visited his homeland, securing transportation was a much more pressing matter. As happy as he was to have found peace, it was disappointing in a way. There was no sign of war and so he had no reason to stay.

The road had been quiet and those that he saw quickly changed their path and disappeared into a group of trees or behind a hill, watching him from a distance. A lone traveler was unusual enough but one dressed for war was something to be cautious of. The last person he'd spoken to and had the chance to buy some food off of had been almost three days ago now and he was nearly out of food. The good news was that he'd also heard that there was a town nearby with a half decent tavern.

He idly wondered how the old man had done it. Traveling alone year after year was hard on a person. Sure, there was the occasional comrade fighting by your side or someone you spoke to during an airship ride but nothing that lasted. Perhaps humans were just different in that regard, more able to cope with solitude and immune to loneliness. He knew for certain that he certainly wasn't and could hardly wait until he could chance upon a town.

Hours passed and he continued to walk, pausing a handful of times for a drink of water. Even the water too ran out but soon a town come into view. The word 'town' might have been stretching it by the standards of other Spheres although he might have remembered other travelers calling it a city. Regardless, it was a town and people felt more secure there, more likely to speak to a stranger fresh from the road.

Cross stood still for a moment before beginning to ask about the airship that was spotted, finding people that looked willing to talk and might be adventurous enough to show him the way there.

Veyati - Chapter 1: Keen Interest

The rush of salty air into Veyati's nostrils made her wrinkle her nose. She made a comment about the rather... interesting smell, pointing her chin down. Nevertheless, she went on to gather the equipment from her quarters to prepare to venture out into Garude. The rest of the crew were mostly on the same page with her, a bit averse to the smell at first, but continuing on with their tasks around the ship of retrieving and organizing wares they may end up trading upon this sphere. The Captain stayed comically nonchalant, lazily ambling out onto the grass first. He turned his head up slightly, took in a deep breath, and let out a long and satisfied sigh. Finally, they could get started.

Veyati loped onto the grass up in front of the Captain and tilted her head in question. With the two behind masks, both Caslin and Veyati were expressive with the posture and hands to make up for a lack of visible facial expression. "Do you think they wanted to greet us?" she asked.

Caslin snorted and shook his head. It was a short laugh. Veyati only caught a glimpse of the guardsmen, but the Captain saw how intently they were staring down the ship. "I think they were more interested in our ship than us."

"Normally I would say that doesn't bode well, but they've left us alone so we might as well give them the benefit of the doubt."

Caslin folded his arms and leaned back, showing dubiousness in expression and tone. "Benefit of the doubt? That man was staring down my ship like it just insulted his mother. I'm not sure whether to be personally offended or go back and apologize on behalf of the Erimtha."

Caslin and Veyati both shared a laugh for a moment before returning to the matters at hand. The crew had finished prepping the wares to be transported and alerted the Captain. He gave them a nod over his shoulder and a wave of dismissal, saying that they would be embarking soon.

"I presume you would like to venture out alone again?" Caslin said, turning back to Veyati. She gave him a simple nod, to which he sighed and shook his head, but didn't verbally object to.

Veyati smiled under her mask and giggled. "I'll be fine, Caslin," she assured him, "Besides, I won't get to see or do anything interesting if I'm stuck with the caravan."

Caslin shrugged. "A fair point, though one of these days we'll have to trade off..."

"Or bring Fazir."

"Or that."

Caslin gestured for the caravan to assemble and embark. Veyati followed with them part of the way, but it wasn't long before she said her farewells to the others and took up her own faster pace, passing the caravan on her way to the town.

A dirt path laced with the occasional placed stone led Veyati across the stunted hills and through a series of toppled boulders, looking as if they sprouted from the ground angrily to clash with one another. The town's dim lanterns grew more and more bright, but the walls they illuminated remained as darkened as before, many of them suffering from rot in some places.

A seabird landed upon a dilapidated and unused fence outside of town, screeched at Veyati, and flew away into town. Things were quiet as she approached, save for the gentle creaking produced by swinging lanterns that wobbled in the sea gusts. On the far side of town, no one made themselves present or lively, but the occasional passerby indicated she wasn't ultimately alone there. It didn't do away with the tension. There was something off with this place. Normally the darkness would feel comfortable, but here it just felt... wrong. Veyati wrote it off as foolish nervousness and shrugged it off, continuing on her path.

It was only as she found herself nearing the heart of the town that the populace took a notice in her. Holding rumors quelled the fear one had in the unknown, but it tended to be of misty apparitions and fleeting shadows. Here, Veyati was a jarring sight with her mask and robes. Few could dismiss her, and she couldn't help but notice how they reacted to seeing her.

Veyati clearly discerned whispers about her as she proceeded forward, with hands covering mouths as individuals turned to one another whilst keeping the corners of their gaze trained on her cloaked person. A few went as far as to simply bolt away, their heavy breath carrying word of an phantom in their midst. A stranger.

It was hard not to seem foreboding as she turned her head this way and that to look back at the townspeople gawking at her attire. She stayed silent, so the only expression they received was the one the mask gave them. She came her to seek exciting new things, but as far as everyone else was concerned, Veyati was the excitement. It was ironic, and that alone almost made her laugh. It was Veyati's mask concealed her smile and helped to stifle her quiet laughter, but she didn't really expect to get this much attention. Normally being seen as some kind of dark aberration would make one a little unnerved, but they were the strange ones to her.

It genuinely confused her, and for that she was compelled to ask why. Why run from a stranger who bears no weapons, no threatening gestures, and no ill will? Veyati fidgeted with her hands for a moment before attempting to reach out, more verbally than physically, to anyone that seemed willing to speak with her.

Her silent pleas were acknowledged, luckily, and from the darkness of the cities alleyways, a pair of individuals approached as swift as the wind that swept through town. They came from behind, and made themselves apparent rather close to Veyati; their sense of personal space was the antithesis to others she had seen thus far. They practically touched her shoulders as they revealed themselves. Veyati swayed, and her robes with her, as she first peered over her shoulder.

"Oh, I've never seen a get-up like that. Certainly you are new to Garude, no?" The two swept towards Veyati's front as if closing her path, and she followed them with her gaze. Someone actually spoke to her first. That was a refreshing change of pace. They were a man and a woman, both of tall and slim proportions, and donning extravagant but minimalist clothing of leather and white ruffle. Their eyes were curious, peering, as if trying to swim through the holes in her mask and to her true face. Their motions and mannerisms indicated they were of same blood. Such fluid and perfect synchronicity couldn't have been anything but familial ties.

Veyati folded her hands in front of her and made a short, polite bow to the both of them. "Yes I am new to Garude," she told them, "And... actually, all of my colleagues dress like this. I just decided they were moving too slowly and left them behind." She was smiling behind the mask, but her tone made it easy to tell. She took notice of their curiosity, watching them carefully, but this was her first chance to get some questions answered. She wasn't about to shove them away for something so trivial. Which question first, though? After about two seconds, Veyati came to a conclusion. Both.

"I didn't realize our garb would cause such unrest with the public..." Veyati said, letting out a long sigh, "Maybe you could tell me why everyone is at unease? And, better yet, why you aren't?" The siblings took one look at one another, as if knowledgeable of something unseen, and returned to Veyati, taking a single, inconspicuous step forward.

"Oh no, not unrest. Mystery," said the woman. Veyati blinked at her.

"Suspense," added the man, "You'll come to find Garude exudes an air of rumor like a latrine exudes foulness." Both of them laughed. Veyati kept her laughter, and her smile, to herself beneath the mask. All she gave them was a tilt of her head, but... they had her attention. An air of rumor could be interesting! Right?

"Not the most picturesque of comparisons," the woman continued, "but it suffices. Your garbs are simply novel is all. Quite novel. New things here elicit caution initially. They will... warm up to you soon." For a moment, it seemed as if she was sniffing the air around Veyati, but it might have been subtle enough for to not notice. It seemed like Veyati was busy looking over her own garb and comparing herself to the two in front, but when the woman started acting peculiar she started to edge a bit forward to see what she was up to. Until the next one spoke. Then she leaned back straight in place.

"This is what causes the unease. I'm sure you have come across peculiar individuals before?" the man asked. They seemed to almost ignore her final question. And Veyati noticed.

"Well if I haven't before, I can say for sure I have now." Veyati said. She opted to make it obvious she was having a private moment of enjoyment, putting a hand over the mouth of her mask as she giggled. Not to make a show of it, but it was genuinely entertaining. She then raised two fingers and added, "But that doesn't answer the other question." Maybe they just needed to be reminded.

The duo shrugged in tandem, their faces equally matched as a dismissive smirk.

"We are but nightly citizens. We have seen a great number of funny people, and it does not frighten us like it frightens most others," the man stated. They fell silent for a moment, before the woman spoke up.

"Say, you don't suppose you and your colleagues would enjoy attending a particular event tomorrow night? The mayor hosts a wonderful party on occasion. You seem like you'd offer a wealth of entertainment to many who regularly attend it."

"What do you say?" the man repeated.

Veyati looked to the two of them, then put a hand over the bottom of her mask and tilted downward to show she was contemplating it. She truly was. A party? She tapped her gloved fingers over the mask as she thought it over. It was barely two seconds before she smirked and came up with a reply, turning back to the others.

"Wealth of entertainment? Oh, no no..." she shook her head and waved her hands at them, "We are just traders-- not entertainers. But... it sounds interesting nevertheless. Regardless of whether my colleagues follow my decision, I would like to attend."

"Wonderful!" the man procured a slip from his pocket and handed it to Veyati quickly, suddenly quite ecstatic at her acceptance. Veyati thanked him as bowed lightly before she received it with both hands. "On that slip is the location and time. City hall, just on the Extinguishing, tomorrow night!" The duo gave a curt bow to her, as always in tandem, and turned to leave without another word, back into the darkness from which they came. A hushed wind followed in their wake.

Veyati laughed again after they left. What a peculiar bunch. But... they seemed nice enough. After a few moments, Veyati stepped off to the side of the street and raised the invitation up to read it. Staring down at the slip, she read its message, written in cursive letters.

Exclusive event on the night of the 14th. City hall. Only those with invitation slips are permitted to attend.
You are hereby invited! Attended by the mayor and local lords and ladies. Food and entertainment will be provided.

It spoke something of dancing and went on to detail more things in depth. Dancing. Veyati regarded that with a soft expression. One could only imagine how different their dancing was, compared to what she'd seen at home. It sounded wonderful! She began folding the invitation to put it away, yet something made her give pause. It was awfully convenient for two strangers to show up and introduce her to such an event so quickly. It begs the question of why would seek to give her an invitation, and why they would be carrying them in the first place. They didn't ever formally introduce themselves. Neither did Veyati, but... hardly the point.

Garude was certainly a place of rumor, mystery, and suspense. Veyati was all about exploration, discovery, and answers. Foreboding darkness aside, it sounded like Garude was her kind of place. Opposites attract, after all.

Veyati - Chapter 1: Keen Interest

Choosing Garude as their first destination had been incredibly lucrative. The masks and robes still put off some of the wealthy nobles, but the finery and wares their caravan had to offer were certainly nothing to be afraid of. Caslin and his crew originally had little need for coin, but it was useful enough anywhere outside of home that it was worth taking over other goods if possible.

What a place this must be for all the citizens of Garude, Veyati thought. Their constant gossiping of what lurks in the shadows Garude can't be healthy, can it? Regardless, it is of no consequence to her. Nothing had jumped out of the shadows to attack her yet, so maybe everyone was just needlessly paranoid. But... there is so much talk of strange happenings, how can one not believe at least some of them to be true?

Veyati shoved the door open to her quarters, threw it closed, then haplessly flopped over the bed and onto her back. A long, satisfied sigh left her lips as she sunk into the mattress. The Captain certainly spared no expense for his crew. Lost in her daze, she could barely tell someone was trying to get her attention. She was far too concerned with relaxing, so the knocking on her door was tuned out almost completely. Up until someone called her name.

"Veyati."

She perked up, lifting her head to face the door. It was the captain.

"Veyati," he said again, "You said you had something to tell me. I can't hear it if you're asleep already."

Veyati groaned in protest loudly enough that Caslin could hear her as she planted her hands down in the mattress and propped herself up. He was right, though, and for that she forced herself back up and to the door. It barely took two seconds before her usual energy flowed back into her. Caslin's gaudy mask was there to greet her when she swung the door open. He stood with his arms folded, silently waiting for Veyati's answer. With a flourish of her hand, the invitation was presented right in front of his face.

"I've been invited to a party!" She announced with glee.

Caslin uttered a flat "What" in disbelief. That was, strangely, the last thing he expected to hear.

"A party, Caslin," Veyati said, grabbing him and briefly shaking him by the shoulders, "A joyous event where people gather to partake in merriment and-" She was simply ecstatic.

"Yes I know that," He replied, lightly brushing her hands off, "But, we've only been here a single day."

Veyati tilted her head. "So?"

"Getting some of the townspeople to speak with us was a harrowing chore today. Not... to say we barely scraped by on profits. We've done well, but... it's barely been a day since we arrived and you've already been invited to a party?"

She nodded.

Caslin put his hands on his hips and sighed. That gesture meant only one thing.

"I know it seems off to me too, but maybe this is the excitement I've been looking for?"

Caslin stared at her for a few seconds, then shrugged and waved it off. "Very well," he said. It was best not to press the issue. Veyati could take care of herself. All Caslin had seen that was sketchy about Garude was how paranoid and antsy everyone was, and it made it only made it a frustrating experience rather than an intimidating one. He gave her a short bow and a goodbye and let the door swing shut behind him, leaving Veyati to plop herself back on her bed and rest. It was a rather uneventful night, but she had a feeling the next would have more in store.

---

For the duration of her previous night, Veyati failed to come across another set of citizens as bold or interactive as the siblings that offered her an invitation. They were an even odder group it seemed then, for their boisterousness and lack of fear appeared a commodity in Garude that few -if any- merited.

She did not know if a continued stay in the city would allow her safe and restful sleep in an inn or somesuch given everyone's meekness and propensity to simply turn away, but it did not matter; her ship offered a bed without pay anyways.

Even as the sun had ignited and rays shone through the clouds, Garude remained a grey disposition pierced by the occasional gleam of gold, if only fleetingly. Throughout the middle of the day, it was difficult to discern the exact time, as the periods between pure darkness melded together a single, dreary color. The clouds offered no hint of the hours that had passed.

Once more it had become dark on Garude, the swinging lanterns alight, and the gentle sounds of waves sloshing on the docks taking over cries of seagulls and commotion during the day. While most of the city stayed a blackness driven by meager lights, the upper city built along a rising mountainside seemed awash with brightness and fire. The sheer number of individuals present in that area was great enough that even at the lowest walkways of the city, Veyati could see their mass of bodies moving along stairs.

At its very peak rested a spired building laced with rope bearing lanterns along its length. The yells and squeals flying from the top and down to Veyati's position indicated that the party was well underway.

With a quick flourish of her hand, Veyati flipped out and opened the invitation to review it once more before stepping forward and, of course, have it ready to present so she could attend. The people of Garude seemed far less concerned with Veyati's garb now that a joyous event was taking all their attention. If anything, maybe it even seemed proper for her to arrive dressed as she was. Of course, this may have been because nobody had time enough to pay attention to her as she rushed through the streets. The only clear image was a fluttering wake of deep blue silk, weaving a path through the crowds. She didn't plan on being any later than she already apparently was.

"I hope I haven't missed too much," she murmured to herself, closing her fingers over the now folded invitation. Up a winding flight of outdoor stairs built of wood and stone shaped rather neatly, Veyati was confronted by two men, presumably but a few guards of the party, dressed in loose and hanging clothing fitting for such a rich gathering. Their right hands rested on the pommels of their sabers, and as Veyati approached one of them extended his free hand.

"Ticket," he requested, to which Veyati complied. Scanning over the small paper under the light of a nearby lantern, the guard nodded and gestured respectfully to the door behind him. His partner opened the door for her, revealing behind it a wealth of figures and lights. Veyati gave them both a polite bow, thanked them, and then entered.

An extravagant party stood like a wall before Veyati, riddled with tables layered in white and red cloth. Waiters and waitresses weaved through the crowds gracefully, perfectly, carrying tiny morsels often speared by little wooden toothpicks. With glasses in hand, the participants chattered with one another endlessly. Not a single frowning face could be seen. To Veyati's surprise, the party-goers seemed on the same page as herself, many of them donning masks (though most were not of the same coverage as hers) or similarly flamboyant articles of clothing.

Few took notice of her arrival, and as the guards shut the gate behind her, she found herself standing in a rather empty area of the party, but a few paces from the impenetrable gathering.

It was no longer any wonder why she hadn't attracted attention-- she fit right in. While she drifted along the ground floor, her gaze swayed this way and that at every little thing that caught her attention. The dazzling outfits, the music playing, the way everything seemed to just flow. It was a stark contrast to last night where everything felt so tense.Her hand fidgeted at her side, as she thought to retrieve an item or two from the waiters and waitresses but... that would mean removing her mask, in the long run. For now, it was better to wander and watch. Relax, immerse herself and enjoy the atmosphere before doing anything more.

In her solitude about the crowd, Veyati caught the occasional snippet of a conversation; nobles speaking of their family, their economic ventures, or what silly game they had recently played on the lawn of their mansion. From what she could tell, it seemed as though most of the people here did not actually take residence in the city, but rather made their domain in the hills Veyati's ship had landed upon. It made sense, in the end. The seaside city was anything but picturesque. Still, the occasional captain or wealthy businessman appeared to make it his home.

Eventually Veyati's quiet listening was interrupted by the sound of a vaguely familiar voice.

"Glad you could make it!" came a male voice over the noise around her. Veyati perked up at the sound and peered over her shoulder before making a full turn. That was the same man, wasn't it? A quick referral to her sketchbook and... yes, that was definitely him. Almost the same expression, she noticed as she held it up to compare, though perhaps a slightly different angle and some minor discrepancies. She flipped it close and returned it to a leather pouch by her side before she could be asked about it. From within the depths of the gathering, the man from last night approached her, this time dressed in clothing more suitable for an expensive party than the vagrant nightlife. He held a glass of wine in hand and gestured to Veyati with a smile and a bow, and she bowed back to him. "I don't suppose wherever you came from... hosts such a grand thing as this?" With reaching arms he gestured to the courtyard they stood within. "When did you arrive?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"I arrived just recently, as a matter of fact," she told him, "I should probably have expected to meet you here, hmm?"

"I always attend these sorts of things. I may not be the most wealthy of the bunch here, but I have my connections and my debts. Say, I don't believe we got each other's names," he switched his drink to his left hand and extended the right, "I am Makul, and you?"

Veyati looked down at Makul's hand, then back up to his eyes. She seemed tentative about the gesture, to say the least. Wait. She'd seen this gesture before, right? Others had done it. All she needed to do was take his hand with hers and-- no. Definitely not. It just did not have the same connotations to her. Cultural awareness be damned, even with gloves on she refused, and it showed with how her hands just stayed fidgeting by her sides. Instead, she promptly introduced herself and... left him hanging.

"Veyati. It's a pleasure, Makul." She said, with a short nod. She contemplated explaining herself but... maybe he'd just overlook it. Hopefully he'd just overlook it.

Makul retracted his hand slowly, still leaned forward. His eyes narrowed, but he didn't overtly call her out on it. "That it is," he said with suspicion. Swiftly, though, he returned to his bright nature, choosing to ignore what was either obliviousness or ignorance. Crisis averted. Veyati was relieved.

"I'm quite interested in the mask you've got," he stated, pointing to her face with the hand that held his glass, "You were wearing it even before the party last night. Part of a religion? Or maybe..." Makul paused, looking at Veyati curiously for well over five seconds, "maybe you're a mage?" Raised a finger and attempted to explain herself, but before she could answer, another figure approached from their side, this one much shorter than the two and dressed in what clearly a robe neither of them could afford in their lifetimes. It was a young girl of pale complexion and piercing red eyes. Her very pupils seemed like they were meant to fit the fine points of a needle, appearing all the more focused.

Her long white hair fell upon a black and crimson robe that trailed along the stone floor, a single red jewel reflecting the flickers of fire in nearby lanterns upon its surface. She stepped to Veyati and Makul's side, introducing herself quite abruptly. Makul turned to greet her ecstatically, practically ruffling her entire body in the process.

"Ah, Veyati, this is Lady Auriga, daughter of Lord Cain. Lady Auriga, Veyati." Makul introduced. Auriga stared up into Veyati's mask with what looked like neutrality, but the motionlessness in her eyes indicated a deep concentration. Veyati could almost feel the girl staring right past her mask. Why was everyone so intent on seeing her face? Veyati almost thought to turn away from her, but that would just confirm suspicions. It was obvious Makul already suspected something. She didn't feel like giving him the satisfaction of uncovering anything more... but that meant calling the Lady Auriga on her bluff. She couldn't really see through the mask, so Veyati stayed vigilant and simply smiled for her own benefit.

"Wonderful to meet you," she spoke, her voice eliciting the sounds of a whisper, but being loud enough to hear even in the crowd.

"A pleasure, Lady Auriga," Veyati replied amiably. No point in doing away with the happy tone. Maybe Lady Auriga was just weird.

"Veyati is..." Makul hesitated, thinking for a moment that he was right, but realizing he had yet to confirm his suspicions. He continued anyways, "...new to Garude. I met her only last night."

"Is that so? Where are you from then, Veyati?" Auriga asked.

Veyati's mouth drew a hard line. Damn it, of course she was going to pry. But then... maybe it was time to play on the whole 'Mystery and suspense' that Makul mentioned in their first meeting. She chuckled from under her mask, doing the same dramatic stance as she had before. "Why, a different sphere, of course."

Auriga's eyes narrowed, but sensing the smile behind her mask, regarded it as little more than teasing. Makul rose an eyebrow and crossed his arms, leaning back as if to gain a higher vantage with which to survey Veyati.

Auriga scoffed, her shoulders jolting upwards as she did so. "Is there something to hide, Miss Veyati?" she prodded. Makul's look of suspicion turned to one of worry as he turned his gaze down to Auriga, as if she said something rude or dangerous. Auriga continued,

"As I'm sure you have discovered in your short time here, mysterious things choke the words of the citizenry. The Sphere from which you come... is not a thing that crawls in the darkness, and thus is not something that people gossip about. I would take little interest in it if it were, but given that's not the case..." Auriga trailed off.

Veyati gave her a nod and replied, "It shouldn't matter. Whether I'm from a rainy town where everyone knows everyone, a grand city in Bulwark, or a strange sphere in the outer reaches of Aurora... what does it matter? That's not why we're here." She held her smile under the mask.

"We?" Auriga questioned. Makul stepped in.

"Veyati is accompanied by some colleagues it seems," he clarified.

"Colleagues sounds prestiguous. Are you all researchers? Cartographers? Scientists? Explorers?" Auriga postulated.

"Interesting that you would mention that!" Veyati replied, rather enthusiastically, "I actually am a cartographer. Admittedly, quite new to the trade as I have little to show for my start, but... I don't just draw maps of a sphere's geography." She sounded like she wanted to gush on and on about her profession, but held off to keep from talking anyone to death.

"A brand new cartographer," Auriga smiled devilishly, "On Garude? While I do love my Sphere, I do not believe it needs anything in the way of mapping. We have covered such things quite well already. Are you from outside the Bulwark Empire?" Veyati blinked at her. Auriga was looking at her like she was fresh meat. What a charming young girl.

"Yes, actually," she confirmed, "But as I said... I don't just map a sphere's geography. Even a fully explored sphere could still have secrets to be uncovered and discoveries to be made, hmm?"

"Secrets..." Auriga mumbled, practically glaring at Veyati, "I suppose so. As far as I recall, the supposition of hidden things within our Sphere have been proved right or wrong already. Treasures, old writings, tombs... What is it that you specifically seek, then? I'm afraid I have little in the way of mysteries I can point you in the direction of that wouldn't fill me with guilt should you follow them," Auriga stated, placing a hand upon her collarbone as if to convey sympathy. There was a tell. Something about mentioning 'secrets' got the right attention from Auriga. Veyati didn't press forward, but she knew there was something up with this place. There was something up with Auriga. Veyati met Auriga's eyes with her own narrowed stare, but kept the smile. If Auriga could see it, Veyati almost wanted her to know she was onto her. Shouldn't stare her down and make a terrible first impression, though. Veyati turned her attention and tilted her head, showing she was listening.

"Perhaps the local library may reveal something? Once again, though, like Lady Auriga I cannot say I know of any locations that, as a cartographer, you may find yourself to," Makul expanded.

"I'm sure I will find something worth chronicling about my stay here," Veyati assured them.

"I'm quite sure you will," Auriga stated, "It is a strange place to some." With a heavy sigh, the girl indicated that she was to take her leave. With a curtsy to both Veyati and Makul, she said her farewells. Veyati watched her dubiously, but was satisfied enough for now with what she gleaned from just a single conversation. 'Not a thing that crawls in the darkness'. She said it with such surity. Curious...

"I must see to it that other important individuals here are caught up with, I'm afraid. I hope to see you again, Veyati. Makul." Auriga turned and disappeared into the crowd. Makul remained before Veyati with a smile.

"Might I interest you in some of the foods we have available over here?" Makul gestured to a table, "Regardless of where you come from, I can assure you they are quite delicious." Veyati sighed and shook her head.

"I would but..." she drifted off mid sentence as her head turned downward, a tinge of disappointment in her voice. She gestured toward her face with a wave of one hand. "My mask."

Scipio - Chapter 1: To Drink from the Fountain

"Oh, and who is his man exactly?" Though he said it calmly, Scipio's heart raced. He had been searching for two weeks without any luck. No one had seemed to know when Kyarian had gone to. Now all of a sudden this girl appeared and claimed to know the one thing he himself hadn't even though to ask: the identity of who Kyarian had been pursuing. It seemed too opportune to be coincidence. But then again, Scipio had always been cautious around those who tried to be helpful.

"Man, woman. Not sure, I only know that one peculiar individual after another has passed through here. I can't imagine it's a coincidence on so quiet a Sphere," she said, her voice muffled underneath the painted wooden mask. "I've been following you around, actually. This Kyarian guy, he arrived later than the one he was looking for. The one I was looking for. We team up. We kill two birds with one stone. Yea?" She veered around Scipio's question, albeit slightly. She was clearly hiding the quarry's identity, but was freely explaining there was at least a target.

It couldn't have been anything but related to Kyarian's own quest, however. That much was for sure. The Drider wasn't an easily distracted man, and if he hadn't yet found the assassins, then he was surely still on the same path.

With unwavering silver eyes, Scipio stared down at the masked girl. "Tell me where Kyarian went, and then maybe I'll let you follow."

The girl crossed her arms and let her head droop to the side, her cheeks turned up to Scipio, disgruntled. She sighed quickly, but gave in, "Well if your Kyarian guy has any wits about him, he'd have followed his target to Bulwark. Urborg specifically. That's what I got out of the people here. Seems no one really cared bout' your spidery friend, and more about my target. Paid attention to him, lucky for me," she paused and quieted herself, "and for you." Unfolding her arms, she extended a hand to shake for Scipio, reaching upwards to meet his own height.

"I'm Edith, you?"

Scipio reached out and took the girl's hand. "I am Scipio," tendrils of white spread from his hand to encase her arm, trapping her from moving away. "And you said that you didn't know the gender of Kyarian's prey, but just now you said 'him' with no hesitation. Do you wish to tell me why?" Scipio listened inside the girl's body, to her subtle hearbeat. If she lied to him again, he would hear it there.

Initially surprised by spider-man's sudden interrogative tactics, Edith soon relaxed and returned to her original, sassy state. Looking up into Scipio's eyes, she replied cooly, a hint of contempt riddled in her voice.

"Male is the default gender where I come from. You think I slipped up?" Scipio felt her truth, and it seemed at the time that she really did just simply refer to the target as male for simplicities-sake. She waited for Scipio to either wrap her up for dinner, or to let her go, still maintaining her eyeless gaze upon him.

She was either an incredibly skilled lier, or she was telling the truth. She looked to small to have been formally trained in the arts of deception, and even if she had it was unlikely he would have sensed nothing from her hearbeat, so Scipio decided that she must be telling the truth. "No. I apologize." He raised one hand to his collar and bowed his head slightly, the white web falling away. "It was wrong of me to assume. Where I come from we have different words for many differnt types of people. To be reduced to a mere two, it is odd. Again, I apologize for my actions."

Edith retracted her hand, rubbing it tenderly as if coated in something strange. "Right," she grumbled, turning slightly away, "So then, I don't suppose you have an airship?" she questioned, her partially chuckling breath indicating what seemed like embarassment. "I got on this boring place by the grace of another Sphere's... generosity."

"Airship? No, I do not have one. I'm sure I can manage to get us passage on one that is departing from here though." Great, he was travelling with a criminal. It wouldn't be the first time. Scipio wondered how she would react if he pulled a gold coin from his pocket right then. The last criminal companion had jumped him for it. Then again, this one was much smaller, so the 'jumping' wouldn't be nearly as effective.

"At least tell me your prinny clothing is a reflection of your wealth," Edith sighed, looking him up and down, "and that you can pay for the trip." Edith reached into the pockets of her hoodie and pulled out emptiness and lint, stressing her utter lack of funds. "You don't look like a commoner anyways. Who are you, really?"

"Scipio," he said flatly. His clothing did make him stand out, but he had stopped trying to blend in on the Spheres he visited a while ago. Even when he had the look right, he didn't act or speak like a local. As soon as he opened his mouth the facade was broken. Besides, Scipio liked how he dressed. "And don't worry about the cost," he added. "I'm sure I have enough to get us wherever it is we need to be."

"Wonderful. I have a feeling your coin will get us farther than the airship too," Edith said cheerfully, seeming as if she was declaring the man would take on the responsibility of catering to everything she needed. "And yet..." she had begun to turn away, but looked over her shoulder to Scipio, "your spider stuff might prove more useful in the end, where we're headed." Edith moved on and beckoned for Scipio to follow.

"Ships to Urborg aren't particularly common, so I suppose we'll have to wait around for a bit. You got a place to stay?"

If Scipio had been any other man he would have been annoyed that this girl had just declared him her personal bank. But he was more curious about what the Edith meant by his 'spider stuff'. Had she seen him fight before, seen another Drider, or simply heard stories? He would have liked to know how much he could still keep a secret, but that was hard when he didn't know how much she already knew. No point in speculating about it.

"Yes, I'm staying with a farmer just outside of town, by the name of Durn. He's given me a room to use while I'm staying on this Sphere. I doubt he would have any objection to one more guest, especially one who takes up so little space." Okay, maybe he was a tiny bit annoyed at her.

Veyati - Chapter 1: Keen Interest

When Makul and Veyati had parted ways, Veyati finally felt like she could at least smuggle a few morsels here and there under her mask while no one was looking. She immediately made note of something. 'When traveling to new lands, always try to the food'. The chances of something you've never had before being tasty were apparently quite high.

Their dancing was... a bit different. An interesting kind of different, but it flowed along with the music just like she expected. Never having been to what would have obviously been a masquerade ball to others, she took her time to watch first and maybe join later. The time she spent quietly observing was also spent sketching scenes from memory. It was difficult for her to muster the courage to join in when she still felt so out of place. She tried to convince herself that some gestures didn't mean the same thing to them. How could they? Maybe she would try but... not today. Unfortunate, because it meant turning down a man's request to dance with her, but the night stayed interesting nevertheless.

The duration of the party seemed endless to Veyati. Even as the hours passed and the foods began to dwindle in numbers, yet still some few individuals remained, seemingly possessing of an inexhaustible dialogue. They were either drunk or had so little to do afterwards that the prospect of returning home was inconceivable. Veyati certainly got the picture, however, and was tiring of the lessening value in each conversation the party-goers initiated. She opted to return to the comfort of her bed.

Deep in the darkest hours of night, all had returned to their own homes, and the lanterns within them had since been extinguished. Veyati found herself in the deepest of dark, graced only by the merest lights of the stars above. She was offered a lantern by Makul, but it was refused. Makul gave a farewell at that, but not without a strange look.

For Veyati, traveling through the dark was without worry. She went upon her way back down the stairwell, through the town, along the docks, and back to the cobble path leading to her ship in the hills beyond. It would have been unimpeded, were it not for a peculiar little appearance in the corner of her vision...

Without a straight look upon its position, it might have appeared as a collection of rags blowing in the wind, tattered and hooked around a stone of some sort. At first it was of no interest to Veyati. Then it began to move, keeping pace with her stride. She made an abrupt stop in her path, pivoting on one foot to face the phantom in the dark. As if linked, the object too halted its advance, still to her side and several dozen feet away. Now that Veyati was staring directly at it, she could see what it for what it was.

A human-shaped collection of encircling rags, conforming to an unseen body underneath. The strips of cloth wound around and around, taking the shape of two arms, a torso, and a head. Its head was the most bound, with only a sliver of space where its eyes should be, once more revealing nothing but empty air. Only its legs were lacking, the rags falling into a collection of loops and waving ribbons beneath itself. It appeared, then, to be floating in midair.

The phantom returned her stare, silently, and kept its arms at its sides, the tight cloth clenching and relaxing around its invisible fists, as if in anticipation.

Veyati tilted her head at it. Her mask gave only a stoic expression, but beneath the mask she was elated to see something so strange. Truly, how peculiar! A floating aberration was staring back at her. She'd barely been here for two days, and already she'd found one of the 'dark rumors' to be true. There were night creatures on Garude... but, something was off. The air was tense. What did it want with her? Better yet... why was it following from so far away? She decided to speak up.

"How long have you been following me, phantom?" she asked it.

"Long enough," stated a gruff, breathy voice, but it did not come from the phantom she faced, but from behind. Veyati twirled around and was immediately confronted by another phantom. Though invisible and layered with bandages, it was dressed in a slightly different fashion, bearing a woven poncho of some sort. It had its hand raised, bearing a glimmering knife within it. Intense focus replaced her smile. A swaying step to the side took her just out of the way of a brutal stab, then she crouched down and slid further on the damp grass just in time to watch a wide follow up swing skim over her hood. The phantom let out a grunt of confusion, which soon turned to a hollow growl as it spun to face her. Its arm raised to ready for another wild stab, but stopped short. She wasn't where he expected her to be. The light and soft tone that greeted the phantom at first changed to something harsh and feral. She was at it's side, with her gloved fist already drawn back. Then, she lunged at the phantom with a flying fist.

"Hasag!" her voice boomed. Her first struck true and landed a crushing blow right in its ribs.

The phantom was sent reeling so hard that the knife flew out of its grasp and sailed off in an arc. It flailed as it tried to steady itself and face Veyati but, as it tried to pull itself straight again, it found Veyati shouting and smashing into it again. A flying knee under the chin sent it reeling once more, but this time with Veyati to follow through and bring it into the ground with her knee on it's neck and her other leg on its chest, now wielding her own knife against it. In a swift and fluid motion, she slashed at the phantom's face and buried her blade in the side of its head.

The phantom choked and twitched, it's arms jerking forward for barely a second before they unraveled and dropped to the ground. The wrapping slid limply off of Veyati's knife as she rose to her feet, hand clenched over the handle.

The phantom from across the hills was already charging. It must have only just started its approach when it saw that its comrade was in trouble, if only all too late. The couple dozen feet spread between them grew smaller as it closed in. Veyati stood vigilant, brandishing her knife, but as the phantom floated over the cobblestone path she heard a faint whistling noise. There was a glimpse of a swift projectile tearing into the phantom's sheets.

As if walking into the air, the ghost rose for a moment before disappearing, leaving its body of cloth wrappings to fall in a crumpled heap on the path. Veyati's eyes darted toward the origin of the arrow, fierce and focused. She looked upon a figure covered head to toe in crimson armor. In its hands a bow was held at the ready, its arrow already loosed and the target fallen. The figure lowered its arms and stared at the area of the ghost, as if ensuring it had truly been vanquished, before turning to meet Veyati's gaze.

"You are the woman from the party, no?" It was a vague question given how many women were present at the gathering, but his surety seemed to indicate that she was the one in the end.

Veyati's grip on the knife loosened. Her expression softened, and her posture relaxed. It wasn't an immediately familiar voice, but his gesture wasn't to be ignored. "I... suppose I am?" she said in a questioning tone, slightly tilting her head. Without hesitation, the man approached Veyati, having slung his bow along the backside of his hips. The smoothness with which he did so, his steady, powerful gait, and the sheer quality to his armor indicated he was no town guard, or even a mere soldier at that. With just a few feet between them, he spoke.

"Veyati? I am Sir Iroas of the Waether Empire. I couldn't help but notice your presence during the party earlier," he began. His voice was gravelly, old, but more in the sense of weariness rather than age. He bowed before placing his hand upon the pommel of his sword, and Veyati bowed back to him as seemed customary for her. "If I may, I would love to have a few words with you," he looked about the scene cautiously, "Preferably in private."

Veyati blinked at him, then looked up and down the road and into the dark grass. His wording brought up questions. The mention of Waether brought up more questions. The outside wasn't as private as it should've been, apparently. She shared his caution, since she had just been assailed by some sort of phantom. "Walk with me," she said, gesturing with the knife still in her hands, "But... leave another arrow by this phantom." Iroas complied without question or hesitation, taking out an arrow before throwing as deftly as a knife into the dirt where the former ghost's clothing remained.

Veyati - Chapter 1: Keen Interest

It was an uneventfully short journey into the stunted hills by the sea where the Erimtha was docked. As the centuries-old Bulwark ship came in to sight, Veyati shifted her eyes to Iroas, studying him, the way he walked. Even his silence managed to say something of his character. He never once looked away from the path.

A large, old door mechanism was all that separated them. The door had some ancient arcane markings upon it-- likely a ward to stop intruders. Majestic beast as the Erimtha was, the way the door was all one solid wooden material made the outside patchwork of its hull look even worse. Strong and durable, but a far cry from any decent aesthetic. However, as Veyati and Iroas entered the Erimtha, a warm blue glow of crystal light welcomed them in and showed the inside to be very different. The reworked interior was entirely uniform and solid. Grand craftsmanship was put into the walls and floors, and the soothing blue lights were likely a recent addition rather than an original feature. There was barely an ounce of metal present in the interior's structure. The blue shine revealed an assortment of wooden crates, chests, and other objects were sorted neatly against the walls of the cargo bay. Presumably, it was all either the haul of the crew's trading, or their own trade goods.

Veyati looked up, briefly bringing her attention to the dull thudding sound of footsteps above them before turning back to the door, pulling it closed on both ends, and turning to Iroas.

"Normally I would have you meet my colleagues," Veyati said as she absently drifted to the center of the room, "But the current circumstances make it seem... inappropriate." Iroas seemed to be quite intrigued by the ship, the velocity at which his head had turned being a fine indicator of interest. For a few seconds after Veyati addressed him, he looked over the ship's interior, touching its walls and tapping lightly on the floorboards. It seemed quite obvious he found the Erithma to be... old.

"No matter. I'll see to it that I meet them soon enough," he said, head still trained on the ship rather than Veyati, "I wish to speak with you most of all in any case." Turning back to Veyati he cleared his throat with a fist at his mouth, etiquette proving to be quite instilled in him; his helmet made it seem unnecessary to cover his mouth. Veyati folded her hands in front of her and swayed lightly, watching him closely. Her mask hid an amused smile. His behavior warranted close attention, but maybe he was just being strange.

"I apologize for not introducing myself during the party, but consideration had me withhold my name and person. I would not want the enemy to so quickly know of any interaction," he began, "I saw you and the daughter of Cain conversing, and couldn't help but overhear, luckily I might suppose. I do not know by who you have been directed to Garude, but our intentions seem to coincide."

Enemy? Just as she suspected-- someone sent the phantoms for her. Good thing Iroas showed up, then. He could answer some questions. Veyati intended to pry, in her own way. She threw her hands around her back and took a step forward. "What exactly are those intentions, Sir Iroas?" she asked, leaning forward with curiosity in her tone.

Straightening himself out and folding his hands to his back, he stated quite firmly, as if trained to do so, "The investigation of vampire activity upon Garude, and if it has anything to do with the Silence of Life." Vampire. Veyati's gaze drifted off around the ship momentarily as she tried to access her memory. Vampire... she had to have read something about that before, right? Better yet, what was she going to tell him? 'No I'm really just here to explore and map the scenery'? Of course not. This sounded like a crystal mine of information, and Veyati intended to dig right in. Her face lit up with interest and her gaze returned to Sir Iroas. She swallowed, briefly cleared her throat, and tried to assume a (rather silly, in her own opinion) guise. Her tone was lowered a bit, like she were wary of eavesdroppers.

"Simply in the fact that someone sent those phantoms," she said, "Likely meant as disposable assassins, I must be close enough to have someone's attention."

"No doubt it was Lady Auriga who picked up on the clues," he said. Veyati smirked. Bingo. Already on the right track. "Were you to have forgone a conversation with her," he continued, "I doubt we'd have encountered each other, nor the ghasts have come after you," Sir Iroas explained. He crossed his arms at his chest and looked rather sternly at Veyati through darkened visor slits.

"So then, if I may ask. Where do you come from, and why are you also after the vampires? No doubt others have come to the inner empires in search of answers, but I do not think anyone of Bulwark would poke into the business of Garude deeply, and yet..." he looked around in a wide arc, "you travel in an airship of Bulwark creation."

Veyati pressed her lips together in thought, contemplating her choice of words carefully to continue with the ruse that would hopefully lead to amazing discoveries. Maybe she could get some more information out of him. She nodded to Iroas in confirmation, "Yes... and you're an agent of Waether meddling in the affairs of a sphere not of your nation. If anything, do you not believe your own circumstances are stranger than mine?"

"I think quite certainly that my circumstances are less strange," he quickly denied. Sir Iroas searched about the room for some furniture to sit on, and finding a simple chest, found his way to it and sat down. "No one in the Bulwark Empire knowingly interferes with the vampires of Garude. They are too finely integrated into the shade of the Empire-"

Veyati raised a hand and interjected. "We're independent agents, Sir Iroas. Does that help sate your curiosity?" Sir Iroas granted only a long and silent stare.

"No," he plainly stated, "but I suppose you're of a much more secretive state than my own. While word is unlikely to get out, it was by a direct decree from Emperor Solderlight that I was given this task. There is little secrecy in it. But you..." he leaned forward, shoulder raised as he placed an armored hand upon his knee, "seem less interested in the Silence of Life, and more on the vampires themselves. Researching in the Silence isn't something one overtly hides."

Veyati's head dropped and her hands fell to her sides as she let out a long sigh of exasperation. She made a sheepish expression under her mask when she realized she may have overdone her act of frustration, but he seemed to buy it. "Iroas," she breathed out, "Why are you concerning yourself with such trivial details? Truly, I am glad to know there are friendly agents in Garude... this is all that should concern you as well. You seemed to have made this conversation more a rude interrogation of my intentions than a defined plan on what we should do about Auriga's. That is what you came here to do after establishing we were working toward the same goal, is it not?" Wait. Damn it. Veyati winced and cursed inwardly when she remembered his primary goal only involved the vampires-- it wasn't about them.

She could practically feel Iroas leering at her from underneath his helm. Leaned forward, it seemed as if he was deliberately trying to bore a hole into her body with his gaze. Veyati just stared back. What irritated him so? It seemed like he suspected something of her. It was an uncomfortably long period of silence before Sir Iroas spoke again, his voice much less calm than before.

"Auriga's?" he asked, his leer once more heating up.

Veyati tensed up, but her outfit hid her expression. He was definitely suspecting something of her... but he was a fool if he thought he would confront her now about... wait, about what? She acted as if she were taken aback, trying to hold up the guise and blew off his glaring. She gestured toward the door and said, "Have you already forgotten about the ghasts that attempted to assassinate me earlier? Lady Auriga is either the indirect assailant, or a direct line to them." Veyati might as well have gone to another room and brewed up some sort of drink, because Iroas's silence was painfully long. He got up from the chest and paced about the room, head bowed and arms held behind himself. The clack of each of his steps was perfectly timed, and then circle around the room without error. A nervous habit if ever Veyati saw one. The way it was calculated... he was thinking over his options. Veyati watched intently with narrowed eyes until finally he stopped and turned to her.

"From what Sphere did I receive my direct message to investigate the vampires?" he asked.

Veyati bit her lip, and her eyes darted around the room nervously, but her mask stayed facing Iroas. Was this a trick question? Why was he even asking? She didn't know anything about Waether or it's spheres. Time to drop the facade. She shook her head with a short sigh and answered, "I'm sorry, Iroas, but I know nothing of Weather's spheres. I... admittedly know just as little of Bulwark's." Veyati chuckled, "This vampire business... really, just quite suddenly dropped in my lap."

Iroas seemed, at least for a fleeting moment, as if he were going to place his hand upon his sword, but the moment passed and simply remained passive. His chest puffed out, as if it were about to release a great sigh, but that too was dissolved. Looking to the side, avoiding her gaze, Sir Iroas simply thought for a moment.

"This is quite the accident, it seems," he finally let out a sigh, albeit much less great than Veyati expected. Sir Iroas made for the door, but stopped. "And yet, your combat skills speak very little of an uninteresting background. Why did you persist on this ruse?"

Veyati threw away the facade entirely and couldn't help but start laughing again. She was obviously very amused with herself, almost inappropriately so. She shrugged after her laughter had died down. "I don't really know," she admitted, "I thought it would be interesting to see where it led me, I guess? I didn't think dodging questions about my origins would warrant anger, let alone murder, but... here we are, and now that someone has made an attempt on my life..."

"I'll admit. I am still quite curious about your origins, this ship, and what lies under that mask, but," Sir Iroas said as he faced Veyati, calmness returning to his voice. Reaching up, he lifted up the hinged visor covering his head, revealing his seemingly recently-shaved face in the ship's light, "If you aid me, I'll think about overlooking it."

Veyati turned her head and gave him a sidelong glance at first, suspecting he was attempting to blackmail her somehow into helping him. "That somewhat depends on what your definition of 'Aid' is, Iroas," she said, taking a stubborn stance with folded arms... though she had a feeling she wouldn't care since she already intended to raise hell on whoever was responsible for trying to kill her. Really, she was just giving him guff because of his attitude earlier.

"Given your unintended involvement already, I doubt you will be left alone for your stay on Garude, possibly even elsewhere in Aurora. You said you weren't to let this murderous attempt go, yes? Join me in infiltrating the darkness of Garude. Your skills seem more than suited for this line of work." Sir Iroas tapped upon his sword twice and smiled. "If you can take out a ghast in the night on your own, then you stand a chance against whatever else these vampires may throw at us."

Veyati hid a devious, toothy grin under her mask. 'Stand a chance'. That's... definitely a way to put it. It didn't take long before she folded her hands in front of her and bowed to him, saying, "I will gladly help then, Iroas, and as a token of good faith I... suppose I could answer one more question of yours."

"One question, huh?" Iroas thought to himself, eyes looking upwards in contemplation, "Alright then. How far away from the Bulwark Empire is your Sphere?" Iroas prodded into her home a little more, though circumvented directly asking the Sphere's name. At the very least, she could give him a hint.

Veyati made a gesture of thought with a hand over the bottom of her mask, lightly tapping the ceramic shell with her finger. "Just outside of its borders, actually," she answered.

Another voice spoke from the top of the stairs at the north end of the room. "And intending to stay as such," they said.

A similarly robed and masked figured descended the staircase, walking with purpose and heavy footsteps. The blue light showed his robes as a pale violet that weirdly melded in with the dark color of the wood, but shined clearly on his white mask. Unlike Veyati's, which was meant to seem calm and serene, if a bit distant and ominous, this mask was adorned with lavish markings in purple and red and gold, like arcane flames were trying to crawl up from the bottom of the mask. The eyes shined with the same colors, bearing an intense and almost threatening visage. The figure, known to be a man by the clear sound of his low voice, paused briefly mid-step on the stairs, regarded the newcomer with a nod, then continued his descent.

"Especially considering the sore lack of security within Bulwark's own borders, given that one of our colleagues was attacked by ghasts earlier this evening," he added, pulling himself beside Veyati with one last heavy step. Iroas returned with a chuckle and a shrug, clearly on the masked man's side of thinking, but seemingly unwilling to fully vocalize agreement. Veyati would've had a clear look of shock for all to see, but only the sound of a quiet gasp was present to convey her surprise.

"Almere was attacked, and wounded," he announced. Veyati bowed and shook her head, but didn't show any sign of anger. "Normally I would override Veyati's decision to meddle, but..." the robed man drifted off and looked up to ceiling above, the crew's quarters where one of their colleagues was recovering, and huffed out a breath. "Now that it seems they are targeting us, I have every intention of joining her."

Iroas didn't even blink or hesitate. "Great! We need all the help we can get for what we're doing. If you're anything like Miss Veyati, you'll be more than enough." Iroas raised his arms upwards, as if beckoning for the masked man to join in a group hug, before letting them fall back to his sides with a clang as the metal armor pieces struck one another. The masked man narrowed his eyes at that. At Veyati, in particular, as he turned his head to her and slowly leaned in. She sheepishly smiled and turned away, saying nothing in her defense.

"I don't suppose you have more hands?" he asked, voice filled with amusement.

The masked man breathed out something halfway between a sigh and a groan of frustration, "So much for our trading efforts with Garude..." he mumbled, then threw a look over his shoulder at their stockpile. He smirked and shrugged it off. It wasn't like they were doing badly for even a couple days. He nodded to Iroas and answered , "Yes, yes we do. Five capable, and I don't imagine it would be hard to rouse them into action against these..." he tapped the bottom of his mask, "Vampires, you called them?"

"Sounds less of trading vessel and more of a small mercenary force," Iroas postulated, rubbing his chin, "But I won't complain."

Veyati and the masked man looked at each other, then shrugged. The masked man gestured around the room to the wares stocked in chests and crates, saying, "Truly, when your cargo is as valuable as ours was this haul," he drawled out, "It doesn't hurt to be both."

"True enough. I wish our own empire was as cautious," Iroas mumbled. Rolling his shoulders slightly, so as not to be completely uncouth, he nevertheless signified tiredness. "I have a room to myself in town, but I suppose returning there after what has occurred may not be the best of ideas. Caution, after all," he glanced to the masked man. The man tilted his head up a bit and raised an eyebrow at the obvious insinuation, and then... there it came.

"I hate to be a burden," Iroas said, "But might I rest here for the night? I need no bed or comfort, only a roof over my head and a closed door."

Veyati raised her hand as if she were about to speak, but was cut off when the masked man lowered her hand and stepped forward. "You must understand, Sir Iroas, that we have only just met you. Though we trust your intentions..." He trailed off as Veyati put a hand on his shoulder and gently tugged. He could tell she was giving him some sort of significant look. The man may very well have rolled his eyes so hard that the Erimtha could've capsized, but she was right. He made a quick judgement call and altered his decision slightly, "We cannot simply give shelter for free."

"Hm, as traders, I suppose not," Iroas said, immediately moving to search through a small bag hanging at his side, "how much will it be then?" He fished out a small bag of coin, nothing substantial, but hefty enough to signify he was no commoner.

"Ten copper seems reasonable," he said.

"Sure," Iroas responded, fishing out the exact change from the bag, "it'll only be one night, so I can manage that sort of price." He winked. Iroas then approached the man and held out his hand to exchange the copper coins. The masked man cupped his hands together to receive the coins, thanked him, then promptly deposited them into his own coin purse and stepped back from Iroas.

"Well, now that we will be working together, I may as well introduce myself." The man folded his hands behind his back and gave a short bow to Sir Iroas. "I am Caslin Stygal, the captain of the ship you will be staying on tonight."

"Sir Iroas of the Waether High Guard," he responded, swinging his right arm to his chest with a thud, saluting Caslin vigorously, "Pleasure to meet you Captain. I hope we can get along and work well with one another. Veyati as well."

Caslin waved a hand dismissively. "Oh, we will get along just fine," he assured him, "...So long as you don't go poking around my ship, of course."

Caslin made his way back up the staircase, gesturing and calling for Iroas to follow. No way a newcomer was going to stay anywhere near the cargo. He would rather take a chance upstairs where he could at least be monitored. Veyati stood idle for a moment before loping after them.

"So..." She began, "What is a vampire?"

Ley - Chapter 1: Kindred Spirits

The night was late, a thick fog having already long since set in over the city of Reawan. With shops closed, their windows darkened and the final rounds of late night stragglers departing the taverns to return to their homes or inns the streets were quiet, faintly lit by rows of streetlamps obscured by the fog. Within one of this bars at a table positioned near the middle of the room, the nearest patron sat no closer than a few tables away sat Ley. The woman sat with legs crossed, quietly stirring the vibrantly colored drink she had ordered hours ago yet hardly touched. When she arrived earlier the tavern was crowded, filled with the towns citizens chatting about this and that. The woman simply watched, listened throughout the night, only occasionally being approached by staff. The tavern now having all but emptied the remaining staff seemed to grow on edge at the prospect of pushing out the remaining few drunken individuals.

An older man who had sat over the night merely nursing his drinks and not yet drunk enough to have lost his sense stood up with a reluctant grunt and headed out from the tavern. Ley's eye followed the man for a moment before she stood up herself, producing a coin clearly minted from a Sphere outside of Bulwark's empire and placing it upon the table. With her drink left untouched she exited the tavern herself, the staff giving a polite farewell to those exiting as they finally moved to rouse the less co-operative patrons.

Outside a cool light breeze ruffled the woman's hair, the beads hung from her neck clattering lightly in the wind. In the distance a silhouette of a man could be seen stepping through the fog, his footsteps heard echoing softly through the quiet streets. Ley's eyes narrowed slightly before she started forward herself, the heels of her shoes sounding lightly against the cobblestone ground. She moved slowly, her pace kept so she would remain always just out of sight of the man she stalked through the mist. After some time she began to whistle quietly, a slow tune which sounded unnaturally, a clearly drawn out bastardization of a much faster upbeat sounding melody.

Ignorant to Ley's followed foosteps, the man simply continued on his normal way, body hunched slightly within the confines of his raincoat. His boots clattered on the cobblestone streetways, clicking up tiny flecks of moisture that had condensed onto the ground. For the time being, he remained completely uncaring of Ley; it had been but a few minutes that she was on his tail, and it need not necessarily mean she was specifically following him. Still, he hadn't seen her around before, and so the supposition was hard to wipe from his mind. He kept his wits about himself, but hesitated little in his trek forward.

The man followed the roads towards the edge of town, buildings growing increasingly smaller and increasingly more rural. Space began to appear between the establishments, complete with their own gardens and wooden short gates. It was becoming evident that there was little in the way of seclusion here.

Ley's vision panned side to side as she continued trailing the man through the cities streets. Through his demeanor it was apparent he was aware of her presence, a bit cautious but not overly so. Ley paid little mind as he buildings grew less and less sparsely packed, replacing signs and seats with gardens and gates. Ley began to speed her own pace up, gradually her lazy stroll through through the streets shifted towards a brisk walk. At the same time her slow whistling transited into a sullen hum lacking much in the way of emotion.

With her pace increased she began to draw closer to the man, her sharp gaze now fixated firmly at his back. The woman now moved with a fixed goal, every step bringing her just a bit closer, humming her stilted tone all the way. As she neared closer and closer a distinct scent would begin to waft through the nights calm breeze. A scent clashing strangely with the cool damp night. A distinctive scent of ash and a rising smell of cinders in the air. Each of Ley's footfalls landing with a light clack against the ground brought the scent closer, the woman's voice beginning to grow more clear. Her tone shifted once again moving from a hum to a hushed song. Each word slow and articulately drawn out but the language distinctly unfamiliar to any known Sphere of the world. Soon the sound of her steps changed to a rhythmic gait not unlike the sound of steps against a dance floor.

At that point, it had become dreadfully clear, and the man could no longer simply hope that the woman just behind him was in fact tailing. The smell, however, and the horrible feeling that came with it could only do one thing to his already rising fears, however, and his walking became a brisk jog, and then a full on run. His head was pointed quite directly at a certain house in the distance. Frantic breathing escaped his bearded mouth, and his boots clamored along the pathway, breaking the silence of the outer edges of the town into a drumming of splashing and clacking.

When the man suddenly broke into a full on desperate run Ley simply continued at her current pace, her voice wafting out amidst the mans heavy foot falls. However she soon fell silent. Her eyes narrowed focused on a point beyond the man, directly in his path. Without warning the ground before him would burst into flame, the moisture upon the ground causing the area around the searing fire to sizzle and steam. In the next few brief moments the gap between the man and woman would be closed, the flicking flames blocking the targets path forward.

A final calm step behind the man, the cent of cinder and ash potent in the air, a single swift movement. Ley's grip would come from behind, her palm placed squarely over the man's mouth and nose in a quick practiced motion. ”Its not nice to run from people, you know.” The woman's flat, honeyed voice came from behind as her other arm went to restrain the man by his neck, gripping it between the crook of her elbow. In these moments the unnatural heat of her body would become apparent. Its feeling entirely different than the steady warmth of the human body, rather like millions of tiny heated grains pricking the flesh. Ley's grip over the man's face soon tightened, in the next moment the flesh of her palm began to stir. Soon a stream of ash would be forcing itself up through the mans nostrils and mouth, pushing its way down into the lungs.

The simple man could only gasp and struggle in her arms, entrapped by her nefarious magicks and the grip she held. Where normally he could have physically overpowered her, being of greater brawn and size, Ley's ashen choking sapped the strength from his body. He was simply too focused on breathing to do much else. Soon, his scrambling gargles and coughs were silenced, and but a limp, heavy body remained.

The quiet but peculiar sound of fire had alerted the surroundings homes, however, and Ley would find it quite difficult to continue her work should she stay. A dog began to bark from a home down the ways, and the dim lights of lanterns and candles flickered from the porches of homes nearby. She would be seen.

Ley's grip remained tight as the man struggled for air in an ultimately feeble attempt before his lungs gave out, his body reduced to dead weight. When the life finally faded from the unfortunate victim the witch released her grip, letting the man's body topple onto the damp street with a heavy thud. For a moment she stood staring down at the corpse lit by the warm light of the conjured flame before it. Her expression remained flat, uncaring, even bored as she took in the scene.

Soon however, her attention would be drawn away from her handiwork by the sounds of hounds barking followed by dim lights beginning to show from various homes. Without a word Ley turned to head back the way she came, her pace a casual gait which stood at odds with the deed which had just been committed, even resuming her dry whistle as she departed. If she would be seen or not mattered little in her mind and she gave not a single glance back at the corpse which was now left smelling of cinder with small piles of ash spilling from the mouth and nose.

With the corpse left discarded for the town residents to discover Ley proceeded back to the inn she was currently residing within. A smaller building not too far from the tavern she had first departed from wedged between two small shops. Entering through the front door the desk clerk would give a generic greeting before quickly returning to their work. Paying no mind to the clerk or anyone else lingering out front Ley simply proceeded to her own room, shutting the door behind her. Inside she would kick her shoes off, stepping over to a cushioned chair positioned near a window. The woman crossed her legs as she eased back into the chair, grabbing a handkerchief from a near by end table, wiping it over her hands.

And then, a commotion downstairs. The inn remained quiet during the entirety of her entrance, but it seemed just as Ley had a moment to herself, resting and immobile, that the serenity would not last. Through the floorboards and down the hall, Ley caught the faintest sounds of peculiarly loud individuals speaking. It was not normal, this late at night, for anyone to be so reckless with their voices in the inn.

Eventually the commotion was silenced, and replaced instead by the sounds of heavy footwear upon creaking wooden planks... approaching the stairwell. It was almost certain at that point they were headed for the second floor, and given then number of them, and the heaviness that their steps exerted, it did not seem like a simple group of Garude citizens were behind them.

They made their way upstairs and down the hall... up to Ley's very door. For a moment, nothing occurred, but then there was a knock. A rapid series of knocks on her room door, followed by a patient silence.

The woman hardly had a moment for her thoughts to settle before she took note of the rising commotion starting from the lower floor and rising upward with heightened voices and heavy footfalls. Ley's brow furrowed at the noise accompanied by a scoff of irritation at the conspicuous clamoring. Her brow raised when the noised ceased before her door before the pounding upon it came. Why bother hesitating if you start out so loud... She thought while pushing herself up from her chair, dropping the handkerchief and stepping up to the door.

”What?”She stated flatly after swinging the door open to stare down the group that had gathered before her, the woman's thin frame certainly not enough to block a view into the room. ”Do you always go pestering random women at an inn?” Ley jeered without actually waiting for a response, her arms crossing over her chest as she glanced over the group.

Ley was met with a group of individuals who looked entirely unfettered by her attempt to turn them away. Sagging black hoods and cloth masks over their lower faces indicated they weren't the type to surrender simply because of a woman's nagging voice.

"Sorry to disturb you," one of them began, their mouth moving under the thin black material, "we receieved word of a disturbance in the area, and were notified that you might have been at the scene. A man was murdered not far from here, in the middle of the streets. Might you have any information on this?"

The woman’s flat expression remained unfaltering even in the face of their questions which arrived irritatingly quickly. She turned for a moment to take a look down the street before turning back to the hooded group, giving them a casual shrug of her shoulders. ”I don't know. Maybe the ghouls and goblins did it.” Ley stated, a faintly mocking tone accompanying her voice. She then sighed a bit, taking a step forward to lean a shoulder against the door frame, long bangs falling over her face.

”Either way I didn’t see anything. Are you sure someone's not imagining things? The lot around here are always going on about ghosts, monsters and whatever else.” She continued, waving a hand dismissively at the notion of it. ”Is that all? The day's been long and I'd like to rest if thats alright with you.” The woman remarked before standing straight once more, bringing a hand to the door and motioning for the group to leave.

"Right, sorry to bother you ma'am," one of them motioned, bowing his head quickly before turning away and leaving. All four of them trudged down the hall and out of the inn. Ley was left alone once more, the night silent and peaceful. But something seemed amiss. Her room's window looked out into the street outside the inn, and as far as she could have heard, a large group of people never seemed to leave...

The hooded figures were still in the inn, it seemed.

Ley watched quietly as the figures departed down the hall, soon turning away herself and shutting the door. With the group gone she returned to her seat, peering down over the towns street. The woman would wait several minuets watching idly for any activity before signing to herself and retrieving her shoes. ”Of course they're going to be trouble... Guess its time to go.” She muttered to herself stepping back over to the door. Producing the key to the room Ley's fingers began to heat until the metal reached its melting point. When it did she slipped the key into the lock, turning it before further heating it in order to melt the lock shut. Returning to the window and after a final quick glance to the street she lifted the chair and swiftly hurled it against the opposite wall causing a loud crash and clatter to sound through the inn.

After taking a moment to hang her shoes from the sash around her waist Ley sat onto the sill of her window. She quickly spun around and pushed off, dropping down to the street below. The woman landed with a light splash onto the moist ground and began to walk off in the opposite direction of the crime scene. As she did so she kept a careful ear on the front entrance of the inn, hoping the commotion caused by the chair would serve as a suitable distraction.

Her distraction worked... for a few of them. It seemed but two of the four hooded individuals had run up to her room only to find the door permanently locked. The other two immediately threw the inn's front door open to witness Ley attempting -rather poorly- to escape.

"Hey! You! Witch!" they yelled out, immediately breaking into a sprint for Ley. Soon the other two darted out of the inn, practically slipping on the wet streets as they turned to follow suit. With inhuman haste, the group of four closed the gap between themselves and Ley, swords drawn and a clear killing intent printed in their eyes.

Before she got far the hooded figures were rushing from the building and closing in. It wasn’t long before the group was rushing her with blades drawn. Ley turned towards them, her eyes narrowed on the ground in their path. ”You should know when to leave things be!” She called before stomping a foot against a ground causing several bolts of flame to burst up from her position, aimed to strike the front most figures chest.

Afterward Ley turned and sprinted off, the soles of her feet heating to flash evaporate the moisture upon the ground. After she moved some distance she would conjure a smoldering mass of ash in her hand, tossing it over shoulder in the path of the undoubtedly perusing party. Before the mass would hit the ground the particles would scatter, each one creating a small explosion in the air.

Trapped behind the wall of explosions, Ley's pursuers halted advance offered her a greater amount of time to make her getaway. Presumably also partially blinded from seeing her, they'd lose sight of her new direction. Darting into a narrow alleyway, Ley hid herself within the darkness. The sounds of boots upon stone dashing past her position cemented her safety... for the moment. Thinking herself good to continue moving, Ley moved away from the nooks of the alley, only to find herself confronted with someone entirely different than the hooded pursuers.

A young girl, no older than Ley herself, of crimson hair and even redder eyes stood before her exit back onto the main streets. Standing tall, almost proud in the way, she seemed as if she were showing up to the scene of a mugging, readied to intervene.

"Ash Witch," she announced, "Getting into trouble it seems. Exactly what he wanted."

Cross shoved Ailis roughly off to the side, drawing his own, heavier blade with a well practiced, almost effortless motion. The matte finish on the blade such that even in in the firelight, it refused to be anything other than a dull gray. He held it at arms length with one hand. He glanced from the dark haired woman to the rest of the pirates and back. The smile he'd had on for the girls didn't falter a bit and might have even widened.

"That many for just the three of us? I'm almost tempted to ask the girls to sit out and make it fair."

As the events slowly tolled out of their favor, the duo 's faces changed from excitement to melancholy. They had the whole plan set out, they'd get in good with the pirates, stay the night on their sky boat and make away with their valuables during the night. It was fool-proof, but then this goddamned native had to screw up their plan. Una thought to herself. "If I make it out of this alive, I'm going to skin this guy and leave him to dry in the hot sun." Which Ailis read, from the expression on her companion's face, and responded with the thoughts. "And then we'd throw salt on his raw, exposed, body and leave him for the vultures." The two offered eachother loud, careless laughs and Ailis quickly unsheathed her sword from it's encasing revealing the red hot metal of her blade. Una continued to rest her hands on the leathered grips up her own blades, waiting for the first action to be made before responding.

"If this guy is so caught up on making a fuss about himself, why not let him have a go?" - Ailis

"Agreed, it's a win-win situation for us regardless. If he lives, then he took care of them for us. If he dies, less work for us!" - Una

"Never in my life have I come across anyone so daft as to disguise themselves aboard a pirate ship as large as ours," the girl began, "You think I'm stupid enough to overlook two brand new faces that weren't with us from the beginning? Girls no less." The girl's words seemed to remind the three pirates around them that they did fall victim to their disguises, and they rubbed their necks innocently, turning away in shame.

"Who you are, though, I cannot tell," the girl offered a glare towards Cross, "but burning one of my crewmen, staked to a tree... that will not slide." With a great motion, she crouched slightly and then threw her arm up, flinging the albatross up into the sky. With a screech, it took off over the lake and towards the airship.

Taking a step forward, the girl seemed initially poised to prepare for a strike with her sword, but in a flash of an instant, she motioned for something entirely different.

The glint of steel flashed before Cross's eyes, searing through the air towards his person; throwing knives.

Cross grabbed the corner of his cloak and threw it it front of the knives, catching most and deflecting the rest. A single blade grazed the back of his left arm, passing by his head. Another that might have otherwise caught him in the face stuck fast into that same arm. He straightened up and glanced at the piece of sharpened metal in his arm. With a scowl, he tore it out and tossed it onto the ground. "That's hardly sporting."

Swapping the blade to his right hand, Cross charged into the fight with a wide swing, of which the girl easily ducked under, rolling along the ground before planting her feet into the mud and leaping like a rabbit to Cross's chest level. Midair, she curled herself up and launched her heels outward, impacting Cross in the chest.

"She's a pirate. Fighting on even ground isn't in their nature." - Ailis

"Should we help him? The fight really isn't that fair." - Una

The two shrugged at eachother, and whether it have been out of boredom or the goodness of their hearts, they also entered the fray. The cubi's blade came quickly from the right end of the group, it took just a few momenets to already have slashed past a few of the stray pirates. Their wounds smoked and refused to bleed as they cauterized upon impact. Had the battle started? She couldn't tell, but nonetheless for her the fun had started. Una had vanished from her former location, whether your eyes were on her the entire time or not the woman seemed to have just evaporated into thin air or something.

"Peek-a-boo!" Said the elven girl, who breathed softly into the raven-haired pirate's ear.

With grit teeth, the girl seemed more annoyed than surprised by Una's stealthy approach, but as she rolled her head to the side it became apparent what her tight jaw was for instead. Brutishly, the girl swung her head into Una's face, tightening her mouth in preparation for the jostle she'd recieve herself.

With a slightly larger gap between at that moment, the raven-haired girl swung her saber upon Una, attempting to disembowel her with a vicious strike.

As the sword came towards Una, she quickly let her body go limp, falling down quickly and firing a leg towards the back of her opponent's knee. The blow she took to the head disoriented her, and her nose was trippling blood, so in a fit of rage she'd continue this action in a flurry of blows towards the girl's legs.

Cross landed on his back and nimbly rolled to his feet. He broke off his fight with the dark haired woman and charged the pirates, smashing through their blocks with the strength behind his larger sword. One by one he went through them, dealing each one a blow to the head with the flat of his blade. The last pirate he disarmed, snapping the saber between his crosshilt and blade before delivering a final headbutt. He stood and turned to observe the other fight.

The girl's leg was bent the first time, nearly putting her vulnerable on the ground, but she managed to keep her standing position in the end, albeit with a bit of a wobble. Dodging the following strikes from Una, she lifted her targeted leg upwards in anticipation of the next strike before slamming it down upon Una's own outstretched limb. Kicking it away, she practically turned Una on the slick earth, granting even more distance between herself and the trio.

Shrugging, the girl grinned devilishly. "This many for just one?" she retorted to Cross's earlier comment.

"I told them to sit out. it's not my fault they can't listen." Cross threw his sword back into the sheath.

From the sidelines Ailis quickly came in at an aggressive attempt to slash the raven-haired girl's torso in a diagnal strike. The heat of the blade visible in the air as it slashed down in a red glow towards her, the Thanatite continuing to maintain it's molten exterior as she assaulted the enemy. Meanwhile, as Una was tossed aside, the rage within her intensified as her jade-green eyes glowed with a malicious aura. The elf quickly regained her footing and with blades now on the aggressive she sprinted clockwise from the girl, before attacking a few feet next to her partner's position. The dagger's shorter range would put her closer to the enemy, but the motives were for something different.

Unfamiliar with the material making up Ailis's blade, the girl assumed she could simply parry her strikes. Raising the saber, she brought it bear with the cubi's blade, impacting it with a surprisingly dull sound; it had already begun to turn the saber to slag. Retracting her weapon, the raven-haired girl could only stare at what had been done to the saber in a mixture of surprise and anger. Little time was offered for her to analyze the damage, however, as Una charged in.

Unsure of what her weapon could do, the girl resorted to a much more defensive stance, refusing to block with her sword in fear of further damaging it. She darted back with each strike, narrowly missing the swinging dagger each time until a final strike clipped her outstretched left arm. Retracting her wounded limb, the girl retreated a few more steps closer to the lake.

Behind her, it became apparent a great commotion was rousing from the ship. Torches and yells reached their ears as soon as their attention had been drawn to it. Above the girl's head, the deck of the ship could be seen out on the lake, lined with countless pirates staring straight back at them.

"If this drags on any longer, you'll have to deal with a lot more than me and some peons," she stated, grasping her burning arm.

Cross followed her towards the water, picking up a short, thick pice of wood as he did so. At a dozen paces away, he pictched the branch towards her head with a sharp overhanded throw while simultaneously picking up his pace and charging towards the girl bare handed.

"That ego of yours seems to have vanished." Una said as she spat the blood hardening in her throat.

"You okay?" Ailis approached the wounded girl, as she watched from the distance while pirates in the distance gathered like an angry mob. Resheathing her sword, and quietly pacing towards her elf companion, weighing an arm onto her shoulder.

"The wench headbutted me, she's got guts, I give 'er that." Una cackles as she seems to have enjoyed the scene more than anything.

Wounded but not disorietated, the girl easily bent her body to the side, barely scuffed on her ear by the branch. Sword hand situated to comfort her wound, she didn't dare try and fight Cross any longer, once again choosing to bob and weave rather than strike back.

Cross followed along, matching her movements more easily in the sand of the shore than in the mud of the forest. "Your captain won't get here in time. You're doomed with the wound, just give up." Saying this, he stumbled and crashed to one knee, his face twisted into a grimace of pain.

Seeing the opportunity, the girl immediately returned to her offensive stance, and brought her sword upwards to strike down upon Cross. With a quick step forward she returned the man's advance, driving a heel into the sand before arching downwards to maximize the power behind her cleave.

The grimace flashed back to a smile as quickly as it had appeared. Cross reached up with his left hand and caught the blade with the sound of metal on metal. A twist of his hand snapped the blade where it had previously been damaged. His other hand came up in a swift uppercut as he stood, meeting her momentum with his own.

With a whoosh, the upper half of her saber found its way upwards and then into the sand with a dull smack. Immediately noticing her error, she could only wince in anticipation of the strike, which landed square under her jaw. With her small weight and Cross's superior strength, she was sent practically flipping backwards onto the sand. Her lack of movement signified unconsciousness.

Cross exhaled slowly and approached the motionless form, not without a bit of caution. Once satisfied that the pirate was out of the fight, he turned to shout over his shoulder at the two local girls. "Be ready. They'll be here in a few minutes."

"Well then..." Said the duo in flippant unison.

The two looked west, and began walking away from the dangerous scene, away from the lake in general. Ailis' arm still resting on Una's shoulder, the weight of the girl caused the elf to limp as they paced off-location.

"Do you think he'll manage?" - Ailis

"He's got the guts to knock a woman out. He'll be fine." - Una

Turning from the retreating pair to the motionless pirate, Cross sighed in exasperation. He wasn't exactly in the mood to be fighting that number of pirates. A duel with the captain would have been quite managable but this was a little much. Grabbing his new captive, Cross lifted her over his shoulders and followed the pair, almost not noticing the extra weight as he jogged to catch up.

"Hey now, you're leaving empty handed?"

"Empty handed? Let us list the things we have acquired today." - Una

"Foreign clothing." - Ailis

"Heavily stained" - Cross

"But if cleaned, some nutty collector might pay some coin." - Una

"Una receives a bloody nose." - Ailis

"You didn't even have to get your hands dirty did you Ailis?" - Una

"Nope." - Ailis

"We also have her." Una pointed her thumb back towards the unconscious pirate girl. Shrugging off the fact that it wasn't 'her' who knocked the girl out, or made the decision to bring her, she grinned and cackled.

"Hostages are always good money." - Una

"Well, that's worth the effort then," Cross replied with a hint of sarcasm, "And I offered to buy your Cubi friend. At least then you would have had some hard coin in your pocket."

"My accomplice in crime is not for sale. She's far too precious to me." Una said this with a bland tone, as if saying it sarcastically.

"Oh yes, and my lovely Malach companion is so much better. I have not a scratch on me." Replied Ailis, who seemed to take the sarcasm a bit more personally than you would expect.

Cross chuckled. "At the very least, I'll have to buy a meal from you two." He frowned slightly. "I don't think I've eaten yet today."

"A meal, you realize there isn't a town in a few days travel. In every direction.. The closest one is to the east, and it's a rough walk without supplies. Rather, why are you acting so friendly stranger? Do we know you? What's your name? What tribe are you from? Where are you from? How much money do you have?" Una asked this rather seriously and shot each question at lightning speed towards the red-haired stranger, her eyes unblinking as they scanned him for any sign of weakness.

Cross stared back, thinking for a few seconds. "I suppose maybe the Who would be first. My name is Cross, no tribe and not really any home to speak of. I think it's important to be friendly to people you meet on the road, especially to anyone that has the courtesy to return the favour." He put a bit of emphasis on this last part but continued on without leaving a chance to respond. "I doubt you'd know me as I've been away for quite a while, since the last war." Cross purposefully left out the answer to the question about money.

Una regained her footing, allowing herself to lean off of Ailis' shoulder. The two looked at the man, and then back to eachother. The tucked their heads towards eachother, whispering into eachothers ears, glancing back to the 'Cross' fellow and then to eachother again. They seemed to conclude on something nodding to eachother. "Okay, Cross~ you can accompany us. But there's a few conditions. The first, you have to provide for yourself. The second, you have to provide for us. The third, you have relinquish your ownership of that girl to us." Ailis smiled as she finished their conditions, and nodded to the man with toothy grins.

Cross thought these over for several seconds. "Well that's hardly fair since you seem to have already assumed that I'd be useless on my own and now you expect me to provide for everyone. I suppose i could make the offer to let you travel with me for free, no string attached. I'd help you with any of your efforts and you help with mine."

As if routinely the two looked at one another with awestruck expressions, as if they had just been insulted beyond forgiveness. Una puffed her chest out, stomping towards the man and pressing her chest against his with an almost masculine expression upon her face, almost. Meanwhile, Ailis tapped her forehead with an index finger as if some miraculous migraine had just been afflicted upon her. "Are you an inbred? Let me get this straight, you're saying that we'll have the luxury of travelling with you for the conditions we made. I'm half tempted to march my arse along with you to town, just so I can make this point. Ailis... inform this man of who we are." Una grunted as she pulled her body away from the man, kicking some moist debris from the ground as she scouted the area.

"Yes your highness! Well my newly acquainted friend, if you've been around the last decade you'd already have hard the tales of two scourges that are feared by criminals, murderers, bandits, and any military regime Dis has to offer. The last part is of course a bit of a stretch, but we are indeed the lovely beauties of fame, the two gold-digging, ransacking, renown criminals of our lovely home. Now please don't forget this, Una takes this very personally. I, don't really like the attention, unless I'm hungry.. Then the attention is quite appetizing." Ailis beamed a smile, and then walked quietly towards Una to press her back, getting her attention back to the situation.

Cross was frowning by the end of this speach. "Unfortunately I've not heard of you, but as far as introductions go it was quite well done. It seems to me that you don't know who I am either, likely because the stories of my accomplishmenst haven't reached this Sphere. I am feared by kings and governments. Wars have been decided by my blade and nations have fallen. Tales of my feats have been told in story and song for thousands of years." He held out the hand that was not occupied in stopping his prisoner from falling to the ground. "Pleased to meet you."

"Yeah." - Una

"Okay big guy." - Ailis

The two viewed the man's hand with a confused expression. Una in particular didn't want to touch the man's clad hand, her eyes wincing as it was stretched towards them. Ailis didn't mind much for it on the other hand, though handshaking wasn't really commonplace in either of their cultures, she went with her stomach and grabbed the man's hand. "What do we do now?" The Cubi asked rather out of place. "We'll need to find somewhere a bit off the path to set up camp, they'll be looking for us. But I don't plan on leaving yet, the food on that sky boat.. There's gotta be something valuable on it." The duo nodded to eachother, and without acknowledging the new member of their troupe, they took to the brush and started searching the area for a place to set up for the night.

Cross chuckled to himself, half disappointed. He left the path and headed for a nearby hill, aiming for the far side from the road.

"We can set down on the other side of that, keep watch from the top."

"No no!" - Una said.

"Una's ears are too sensitive. If she sleeps at that elevation.. She'll be complaining for the rest of the next day." - Ailis rolled her eyes as if she was a bit embaressed to say the statement, scratching her head and pulling strands of hair behind her ear.

"The ears of the Malach, are the most sensitive of any elf! It's a curse!" The elf whined, a bit pathetically.

Cross gestured to his own ears. "Not at the top, at the bottom. On the far side from the road we won't be seen and a sentry on the top could see for quite a distance."

"That might work then." - Una

"Did you steal any food Una?" - Ailis

"I shoved some bread in my vest. Why?" - Una

"Hungry~" - Ailis

"Cross, that's your name right?" - Una asked, absentmindedly in fact.

"Yeah?" Cross replied. "You two can share the bread if you want, I'm sure I could find something on my own."

"Only breads?"

"That's hardly a meal."

The two pouted, putting up the facade of starving damsels.

Cross sighed and started walking towards the left hand side of the hill. "I'll take care of her arm and then see about food. I don't think you two will starve to death before then."

Veyati - Chapter 1: Keen Interest

Sir Iroas treated Veyati and Caslin to a novel breakfast in town, working to get both of them more accustomed to life on the Sphere; that, and Veyati's proposition earlier meant they would need to frolic openly in public. What better way than to converse at an eatery?

The plan was to convey to the ones pulling the strings on Garude that Veyati had lived, and to do it in such a way that her combat skills were never put into question. Iroas was the one who saved the day, it would be told, and Veyati survived only barely. No one would postulate Veyati was at all capable of felling the dark creatures sent after her.

Iroas gestured to a bakery, but quickly realizing his mistake, retracted his hand and waited for Veyati and Caslin to usher him in instead. They were treating him, given what a hero he was for Veyati. The tables situated outside would be a good spot to gossip given how many people were up and about in the morning hours there. Somehow the morning hours felt much calmer, even with how active the streets were.

The three were shortly after situated at their table. Veyati scanned their surroundings. Nobody familiar, but the crowds in the streets were very dense. Good. To believably pass the time as Iroas waited for his order to come up, Veyati decided to speak first.

"I certainly must thank you again, Sir Iroas," she said with a short bow of her head, "I shudder to think what would become of me had you not arrived to trounce those beasts." Veyati had no problem selling it. When all she had to focus on was the tone of her voice, sounding genuine wasn't an issue.

Iroas leaned back in his chair, a grin on his face he slung one arm over the back of the seat, as if basking in the glory. With a dismissive wave, he tried passing the honor off as having little excellence.

"It was nothing, Veyati. I've dealt with ghasts all the time. I truly do appreciate the generous offer here though. A long way from home means I need to spend my money carefully. I forgot to ask though, what were you doing out here so late at night anyways?" he asked.

Veyati perked up and smiled at him beneath her mask. Well played, Iroas. She fidgeted with her hands on the table as she explained, sounding surprised at the outcome of her night. "I attended a party hosted by the mayor last night. I was simply returning home. I- I... I didn't expect to be followed by a ghast-- let alone two."

"-Neither did Almere," Caslin interjected. He appeared forlorn, even against the crooked smile his mask bore. His head was hanging down, his hands on either side. "I'm glad he escaped, if only narrowly, but his injuries are testament to the lack of security and safety within Garude. Strange that we haven't heard other incidents like this..."

"You're new here, right?" Iroas leaned forward, "It would explain why you haven't heard of other incidents like it. Abductions, murders... They happen all too frequently here on Garude. It's come to the point where no one is sure whether reports are true or just a rumor." Faking suspicion, Iroas glanced about the citizens. "It's worst when they're disappearances, cause' then no one can really confirm it if the only witness was the victim. Luckily, I hate to say it, your friend Almere lived to be able to tell the tale. This one won't go down as myth."

Caslin huffed out in frustration and shook his head in his hands. "Outrageous," he said, "I was right to hold everyone back but... two from the same trading caravan in one night?" Caslin let his hands drop on the table and looked to Iroas, "I would not be surprised if someone was targeting us. But, why?" Invoking sympathy might help the gossip on its way to the right people, but Caslin was genuine in his indignation. All the more to sell it.

"There are many dark things that pull the strings around here. I don't know what they see in you, but it could be the pure strangeness behind your people. They might see you as a religious group, or explorers that poke their nose too far into their business. They're powerful enough and terrible enough that no deed is below them. They'll do anything if it means self-preservation. Unfortunate that they'd ultimately end up targeting your people," Iroas explained.

Veyati made one last point to drive it home.

"But... with champions like you in Aurora," she said, "Perhaps a place like Garude has hope of being safe from what lurks in the shadows." She was setting Iroas up to look like the hero, and make sure it was cemented for anyone that heard it-- that the night had something to fear and his name was Iroas. Something ridiculously poetic like that, perhaps.

---

With their foray into the world of Garude gossip finished, Iroas, Veyati, and Caslin motioned for the next step in their goal. If things could always go his way, and he were truly a champion as Veyati put it earlier, he'd have vied to waltz straight into the home of the biggest, baddest vampire household he could find. But he wasn't, and he was merely dreaming of glory and greatness when he imagined it otherwise.

For now, they could only observe in secrecy. The town they resided in and the immense expanse of forest and marsh was separated by a large mountain which had to be circled around to reach any of the truly aristocratic homes. Iroas suggested a camping trip, then, to loiter around the home of a well-known vampire family (at least, he knew they were vampires) and scout out potential next-steps.

Castle crashing required finesse and careful planning, brutish as it sounded. When they had a better idea of what they were dealing with, they could properly assault an establishment and question its 'noble' occupants. Surely some sort of information could come out of it.

Iroas required very little in the way of camping, it seemed. Beyond a sack of long-lasting food and a flask of water, he carried few items. A lantern, some simple bedding, a map... He was clearly used to staying out in the wilderness for some time. Veyati and Caslin carried the same essentials with them, save for any light source. It was just extra weight not worth carrying. Their weapons would be far more useful than a source of light when someone was already carrying one.

The road was broken and cold, surrounded on either side by a thick wall of white-colored trees bearing a pathetic number of leaves. Only the numerous, spindly branches and the beds of ivy and moss that coated their surfaces created the darkness that pervaded it.

The trio kept on the path for a time, heeding Iroas's words that, "every minute in the forest increases your chance of encountering something nasty." It sounded like an interesting challenge to Veyati, but Caslin urged her to stick with Iroas' plan. They would stay on the well-worn road until they came much closer to the household Iroas had in mind before turning into the woods. A certain "Belias Family" owned a villa out in the woods, which they would come across off-road and out of sight.

Despite the dreary atmosphere, Iroas appeared unperturbed, maybe even cheerful as he marched alongside the other two masked figures. It had been a long while since he did anything of this sort; long had he awaited the familiar sense of danger, and he wasn't the only one. Veyati shared the excitement as they advanced onward, the prospect of a confrontation with some nefarious creature of the night right ahead of them. Iroas turned back to his partners during the walk.

"I don't suppose I could get a hint of what kind of place you guys come from, huh?" he asked.

Caslin and Veyati looked at each other, exchanged a couple almost inscrutably subtle gestures, then turned back to Iroas. "I'm quite sure Veyati already gave you a hint last night," Caslin said, "You must understand, Iroas, that we have many reasons to keep our full identities and origins secret. Garude's nature has only given us more."

"You haven't seen very much yet," he said, looking away from the two, "and Garude is but one of many Spheres. I wouldn't go so far as to make it a deciding factor. Unless of course, you think there's only so many Spheres out there..." Iroas mumbled, practically accusing them of ignorance. Laughter followed, and it seemed moreso that he was joking. Veyati and Caslin only responded with silence as they waited for him to finish his private moment of enjoyment. While he was busy being amused with himself, Caslin and Veyati exchanged another few almost inscrutable gestures and supposed looks. It ended with Caslin giving her a subtle nod, and then a nudge of his head in Iroas' direction.

"Iroas," she said, "It's not so much for our sakes as it is for the rest of our people. That and... who would believe us if we told them?"

"I wouldn't know, considering I have no clue what it is I'm expected to believe," he responded. Pausing along the trail, the group came upon a diverging path going left and right. At the foot of the separation, a rotting post sign stood like an old hermit.

"Belial Residence" was printed on the single directional section of the post. The other arrow was simply blank, likely leading further into the heart of Garude's forested region. Iroas took out his map and scanned it over a few times before folding it back up haphazardly.

"Here's where we head into the woods," he said, throwing thumb into the forward slice of trees created by the roadways, "We need to keep as quiet as possible inside, so before we do, you have anything that needs saying?" Well, at least he wasn't outright asking about their origins again. Veyati shook her head and gestured for Iroas to lead on.

---

End of Chapter One

Lithus - Chapter 1: Out of the Sky

To know is to believe.

Running his fingers against the fine leather binding of "Bulwark- History and Myths" the Silvant known as Lithus let out a long sigh.

It was genuine depression he felt when he walked into the archives every morning. He had come to bear a solid belief that each day would most likely be similar to the last, that this emptiness he felt was best described by his physical surrounding.

The library was old and neglected. From night to day there was nothing but hollow silence and the systematic cycling of guards and other librarians, who's very presence was like that of a minute hand slowly dancing around the clock. Usually under such a wealth of knowledge, time would be lost, but sadly that wasn't the case.

Sliding the book in between two other historical texts, the silvant let out a faint chuckle.

Not once in his four months of working at this institution had more than one visitor been in the library at a time.

If to know was to believe, it was safe to assume that no one wanted to believe anymore, because the desire to learn and understand was not just absent, it likely didn't even exist. The very presence of the soldiers that danced across the old tiled floor was a waste in his opinion. The reason? Simple. The stealing would simply end. It had been five years since the start of the "Drought" and it was safe to say the race to figure out the cause was not just a simple sprint but rather a marathon, one of which had no end. Without the finish line to give incentive to the runners, hope would eventually be replaced by desperation before finally acceptance.

It was a safer bet to have the soldiers line and patrol the markets and stores at this point. With the acceptance of the Silence of Life would come a liberation from the social contract that kept everything intact. People would stop caring once what they perceived to be "The End" was near because to be honest, nothing else mattered.

Lithus closed his eyes before silencing his incoherent thoughts. It was easy to lose himself, to lose sense and logic when one thought entered before another left. He barely had time to process his own thoughts nevertheless to record them.

Out from underneath his robes he produced a small brown book, a journal if you will. It was something he had picked up from one of the vendors upon entering atmosphere of Bulwark and in it he wrote descriptions of the Sphere and her inhabitants as well as whatever thoughts should cross his mind while he was here. He silently opened to the first page.

In a handwriting that was more art than calligraphy were the four letters L, O, V and E.

It was an theory, but one that he felt sure of when he had first thought about it. What if the Silence of Life was caused by an absence of that was quintessential to life? That perhaps throughout the ages the passionate fires of love that ushered life into the world had been growing weaker and weaker before finally going out for good? The point that he was getting at was that perhaps there was something more to the creation of life than just sex.

It didn't necessarily have to be love.

Unlikely? Probably.

Interesting? Definitely so.

It was absurd and excessively romantic. Something an angsty teenager would subscribe to the plot of a sappy romance novel, but it was a theory that could not be overlooked.

In the end it was an idea he kept around for laughs. He had long moved past the idea.

Tucking the book away, he let out another sigh before returning to his work. He had to book in another twenty minutes before he was done for the day anyways. There was no harm in giving attention to his work, it was the least bit of respect he owed to an institution built for higher understanding.

---

When Lithus emerged from the dusty tombs of the archives the sun had already start to lose it's demanding glow.

It was a sight that he had come to appreciate the last few months, more so because he had a greater appreciation for it now. Compared to the seemingly lifeless library and the endless hours spent he spent within its four walls, it was nice to know that time was still moving on, that life still kept it's bravado and trekked forward.

He had decided to retire early today as oppose to wandering the streets. The reason? None in particular, there was just something more appealing about his bed this evening.

Letting out a stifled yawn, he quickly stretched before starting home.

Despite its sheer immensity, Bulwark's city appeared quite tame in the population department, expressing clean streets and a wealth of room to walk from home to work without becoming one with the crowd for a time.

Not that Lithus really minded the crowd every once in a while. It was company that he never had to ask for and one that he could always leave with no strings attached. Gliding through the same routine path that he had established as the shortest route between point A and point B, the silvant kept his eyes low, lost in the distinct patterns of the road.

Where normally the silvant sensed little difference upon the streets day to day, he was suddenly met with a rousing sound a mere block away that had never been there before. All throughout his walks home, the simple sounds of a city bustle were all that reached his ears. But now...
There must have been a gathering of some sort, as in the darkening hours of the day, when voices quieted, he could distinctly hear a commotion of chatter underneath the occasional shout of a particular feminine voice. Coming upon a street intersection and looking to his left, he found the source.

A crowd of people came and went, but a majority of them stayed, circled around a wooden platform dominated by several military figures. A short woman of snow-white hair and clad in armor, and four faceless Bulwark soldiers all stood atop the platform, apparently preaching some word to the citizens.

"Absolutely anyone willing to aid us in the expedition will be paid a hefty sum. It is dangerous, and for this you will be repaid properly. Think carefully however," the white-haired woman spoke, looking over the crowd. Taking out a bag of what appeared to be coin, she showed just how much participants would be paid. The mere sight of it sent a wave of eagerness through the crowd. "Ten gold coins to anyone who will help," she explained. Practically the entire crowd rose their hands to offer their servitude.

Ten gold coins...

The thought pushed its way rapidly through his weary head, bumping out the thoughts that had entertained him during the endless hours in that old dusty tomb. The library job wasn't a bad one to be honest. If he had all the time in the world he would have easily shrugged aside the opportunity before him for the obviously more stable route,

...but he was in a rush much like his soon to be employers.

An common interest is the key to any successful relationship after all.

Finding himself some sort of elevation over the crowd, the individual raised a finger into the air.

He wasn't a person to take risks, but the opportunity to get his hands on some funds that he couldn't spend in one sitting was just too good to past up.

Amidst a crowd of common folk looking for a substantial amount of cash, the armored woman seemed to take an immediate notice of Lithus's raised hand. Him, in his rather peculiar set of robes, and the unique glow to his eyes displayed a worthiness far brighter than his surroundings.

"You," the woman pointed straight to Lithus, beckoning him to step forward. The knightess stepped down from the platform, approaching Lithus at the head of the crowd.

"What do you do for a living?" she abruptly and directly questioned.

"I'm a curator of books and as of right now I'm rotting away at the Archives of the Late King Venarl, no offense to his 'excellence' of course..." he spoke with a gracious tone, humble but yet somehow condescending. Her direct attitude interested him, it tasted strongly of military discipline and gave off a sense of superiority.

Rugged, strong, independent...

Very common but nevertheless interesting.

"I'm sure I'll be of some use. One way or another."

"You don't look like a simple curator," she proposed, looking up and down Lithus's body, his clothing in particular, "You sure you're not a mage?" she smiled, as if teasing him into admitting it lie or not; it would make more sense if he were, she thought. Turning back up to the soldiers still on the platform, she mumbled a few words, then returned to Lithus, gesturing for him to follow her stride away from the crowd. As they moved away, one of the soldiers began to pick out some of the individuals in the crowd, claiming there was room in the expedition for only a select few.

"I have a fair amount of knowledge in the art of magic, but sadly none of the practice."

As oppose to walking besides her, he chose to just shadow her steps, itching about a feet behind her.

He preferred doing the examining, not the other way around.

Her hair was a firm solid shade white as oppose to the ghostly pale he was so accustomed to seeing. It seemed almost artificial in his eyes, but he didn't doubt the authenticity.

There were few things fake about the figure before him.

"So...you're right!" he exclaimed with a false enthusiasm, breathing out those three words slowly but firmly, "I'm not a simple curator, I'm a very good one."

"The best of my trade even."

The knightess chuckled, "Oh? Is that so?" she joked, "But really, that is good. We were hoping for someone like you to come along for the expedition. We need more than some shop-keepers and farmers where we're going. You might even produce some new information for the library," she proposed.

"Expedition?"

As much as he loved mystery and discovering things first hand, the truth of the matter was that he needed to know what to expect. Dangerous is a very broad term not in the concept that one's life is at risk, but more so the concept of how one's life would be at risk.

"Where?"

The woman looked a tad surprised. "Did you not hear during the announcement?" she asked, and seeing Lithus still without a clue, figured he had simply arrived after she declared the destination.

"We're heading to Maelstrom."

Chapter 1: The Key

---

"People in masks?"

"No, no mask. A missing eye. Have you seen someone missing an eye?"

"I don't really remember."

"Of course. A man with one eye; you see people like that everyday. Nothing memorable." Leffi rubbed at her temple, holding back her increasing frustration. No one on this Sphere seemed to know anything. Whether the house across the street existed would be a complete mystery to them. She wanted nothing more than to start forcing answers out of people, but the Bulwark Empire wasn't the best place to cause an unnecessary ruckus.

"People see all sorts of things, talk about even more. Can't believe any of it, really." The man she was talking to was slight, constantly looking around. Reminded Leffi of a twig in a breeze. "Mostly stories-"

Leffi held up a hand. "No, stop," she said, finally done. "Go home. Go drown in a lake. This little talk is over." With a thinly veiled sigh of relief, the man scampered off into the fog. As he disappeared, Leffi started to walk towards the airfield. She wasn't going to get any useful information anywhere on Garude, and had few options beyond continuing to Bulwark proper.

Pulling a flask from her belt, Leffi took a deep swig. She had become accustomed to the acidic bitterness of the liquid mana, and now simply grimaced instead of coughed as it went down. Within a few seconds, she could feel the usual warmness spread outwards from her core. "To the good Doctor," she said, putting the flask back where it came from.

Drawing up the airfield, Leffi waved her ticket at a dockhand and had him show her which boat would lead her to her airship. It was time to leave this useless Sphere. A segmented metal ladder was hoisted down as she drew up the airship, on which she quickly ascended aboard.

The interior was spacious, lined with a wealth of seating along its sides. Already a number of people had boarded before Leffi, either occupying the edges with a variety of luggage or standing about the middle. The airship had yet to lift off, and so the worry of falling to one side of the ship wasn't an issue at the time. Nevertheless, it appeared a few of them were anticipating it and sat patiently with their seats buckled.

Angled windows peered outside into the sluggish waters and grey clouds, situated just above the seating along the walls. Two supporting beams stood in the center of the room, and to either end a pair of separated doors led off into the rest of the ship.

With time, an attendant entered the passengers cabin and announced over the hushes that the ship was about to take off, and that everyone was required to take their seats and secure themselves. A gentle hum emanated from underneath the metal flooring, indicating the ship had begun to power up for the journey.

Those standing about sat themselves down, leaving quite a number of options for Leffi; it appeared few people journeyed to Bulwark from Garude at this time of day, or even the season.

After brief consideration, she chose to sit in a corner seat next to someone heavily involved in reading their book. She'd have preferred sitting on her own, but empty seats attract unwanted neighbours. Best to choose her poison, instead of drinking the unknown, after all.

With a brief but sudden jolt, the ship broke into motion, lifting with an increasingly louder hum escaping the engine perched below their deck. Sights of water beyond the windows turned into scenes of mountains and clouds, and finally even they were replaced with something entirely different.

The room was filled with a short and loud buzzing noise, signalling that the vehicle was approaching the boundary between the shpere's gravity and that of the Infinite Ocean. As it passed the invisible threshold, Leffi found her body drawn forward, now suddenly looking down instead of straight ahead. Through the windows on the other side of the ship, she looked down into the turbulent waves of the ocean many, many miles below.

As the airship brought itself to bear, however, the scenery once more changed to that of an broad sky filled with clouds and the tiny but distinguishable appearance of another sphere in the distance. From then on, the true voyage would begin, and she'd find herself aboard the airship for three hours at the least.

The cabin remained relatively quiet throughout the voyage, and though she sat beside an individual, Leffi found that the engrossed book-reader would take no notice of her in the end, far more interested in reading than herself.

It was only until the airship had apparently stepped into Bulwark's influential zone that things had begun to pick up, unfortunately for Leffi. With the times, it wasn't uncommon for rather strange individuals to seek out answers across the entirety of Aurora, and the Empire took notice of the issues they had caused in their experiments and attempts. No airships passed their defense perimeter without being checked on.

And so the airship had stopped on its way to descending upon Bulwark, situated a few kilometers away from a sky fortress hovering beyond. Two smaller ships carrying four troops approached the ship from the side, hailing it to open up and let them in. Before they even entered, a few of the cabin's occupants visibly tensed, either afraid, nervous, or having something to hide.

The airship's side doors unlocked, and the Bulwark troops stepped in, hands trained upon their sheathed weapons. They looked about cautiously, scanning over the room first before directly gazing into the faces of everyone present. Their purposeful and calm movements indicated they had little worry of what they had seen thus far, but they walked through nevertheless, gaining a closer look at the passengers.

As the soldiers entered the airship, a content smile settled on Leffi's face. Their boarding meant they had finally arrived at their destination. She was drawing close to her favourite part of her job. The smile faded, however, as she noticed her hands were shaking ever so slightly. Her flask was pulled out, and another long swig went down her throat. The seat beneath her crackled as she leaned back into the old leather, closing her eyes and waiting for the soldier's inspection to be finished.

The procuring of her strange drink had caught the attention of one of the passing guards, though given its opaqueness, little could be said about its contents. They merely passed it off as a country bumpkin sipping their hard drink. They made a single pass across the room before turning, and with greater haste, returned to their hovering ships just outside. After a few minutes of waiting, the ship moved along once again.

The familiar alarm signalled that gravity was to shift, and the cabin braced for the strange feeling that accompanied it. Descending upon Bulwark proper, the airship's windows allowed a gaze into the vast ecumenopolis below. Not a single inch of the terrain was without urban development. A giant, grey, spire-filled expanse.

Leffi was let off the ship and found herself atop a massive platform that carried two airships of similar size as her own. A marked path directed her towards a set of stairs leading down into the city's airship station. All throughout, a host of formidable guards stressed that her mission was to be kept as inconspicuous as possible. Few areas offered refuge from their gaze.

At the bottom of the stairs, Leffi turned north and began heading down a midsized street. The warped visage of one of Bulwark's legendary soaring platforms scattered as Leffi stepped through a puddle. Eyes looked side to side, keeping her eye out for a particular pub. Heron's Shield, above which lived a contact of hers. She hadn't tried to get into contact with him for a few years, her work rarely taking her to the sickingly idyllic core of the Bulwark Empire.

Still confident of her memory, Leffi found her way to said establishment, easily detecting the unique crest of a large white bird upon a metallic backdrop hanging from the side of a building. Given its proximity to one of the major airfields, the pub was strangely busy for a place harboring someone like Leffi's information broker. Bodies squeezed amidst one another as they moved about the streets, struggling to make it from one side to another. They were surrendered to the flowing status quo, swimming in the river of faces, mustering strength to reach their destination. Keeping far to the side, however, Leffi managed to proceed relatively swiftly, practically scraping alogn the walls of buildings lining the way.

Eventually she made it to the Heron's Shield, and once inside, was spared from further jostling. It would do her well to check her pockets and ensure nothing was stolen without notice.

The interior of the pub was well-kept, brightly lit, and full of rather high-ended individuals. It seemed almost more of a gentleman's club than a place for gruff men to drown in alcohol. Nevertheless, mugs and simple meals were what dominated the tables, as opposed to wines, cigars, and prinny conversation. The bartender looked up to meet Leffi's gaze, and finding nothing of interest, resumed his work.

The stairwell leading to the upper floors of the building were preceded by a wide-open door, welcoming but dark.

The barkeeper's attention was soon regained by a knocking on the hard wood of the bar. His eyes raised to meet Leffi's once more. She pulled out a couple of copper coins and placed them in front of the barkeeper. "One of whatever that will get me," she asked with a casual smile.

A mug was quickly filled and passed to her, which she scooped out and took a long swig from. "Mind if I take this upstairs?" Leffi asked, gesturing. The barkeeper gave a 'go ahead' nod and starting talking to another customer.

Swerving around various tables, Leffi made her way to and up the stairs. The darker light made her make most of the way by touch rather than sight, as she waited for her eyes to adjust.

At the top, rows of doors lined the hallway. Each was wooden, sturdy, and nigh indentical. But memory served well, and Leffi made her way to the door that should lead to her contact's home. Raising her hand, she knocked twice upon the door. A brief and sudden noise of clacking shoes beyond the door, and it was opened. Below Leffi's gaze, a small, dirtied boy stood with a sullen look on his face. He sniffed once and greeted her rather grimly.

"What you need?" He wasn't a face Leffi had remembered, but the room behind him wasn't different; she was still certainly at the right place. Her contact hadn't moved. Piles upon piles of papers and miscelleanous objects sat atop desks, chairs, and tables. Practically none of the floor was maneuverable. The boy made no motion of inclination to let her inside, standing taut in her way, expecting an answer as if he were the one in charge.

Leffi leaned against the doorway, "Need the man of the household, young pup." A brief second of silence seemed to indicate he wasn't satisfied with the answer, but it was probably the sudden recollection that this woman was clearly much stronger than he was that made him move aside. Holding the door open, he allowed Leffi to pass, scraping some stacks of papers aside as he did so. Free to proceed, Leffi made her way through haphazardly. In the back, her target sat hunched over a somewhat cleaner desk space. A lamp illuminated the back of his head, frazzled and dirty.

Noticing, the boy walked ahead of Leffi and abruptly slammed his hand on the desk, just beside the sleeping man's head. A single strike was enough, and the boy knew it. Rising with a deep inhale, he turned first to the boy, then to Leffi, drowsiness clear in his eyes... until he realized who was present. Quickly rubbing the sand away, he greeted her.

"Ah, Leffi. On... absolutely no notice at all. Whatcha need?"

"You know," she said, passing her still mostly full mug off to the boy, "the usual kind of thing. Looking for find someone for my boss and give them a nice talking to."

"Mm, right," he passively responded. The man scratched his head instinctively, as if readying for whatever was coming. Leffi had never truly troubled him, but the work she did was always of the sort that drew in trouble incarnate. He was lucky such hadn't been the case just yet.

Varce, as he was called, was your common information broker. He dealt out what other people needed to know, for a price. Where normally most in his business would call him mediocre, having such a low interest to his work and methods. What they lacked was subtlety and quietness. Varce dealt with things in as an inconspicuous manner, it seemed, never once attracting the attention or ire of the ones who opposed his work; namely the Bulwark Guard and the people who lost something thanks to his dealings.

No doubt the kid that stood in the room was a part of his methods. The shadiness in his eyes reflected that of a boy who knew the streets well, and how to get in on things he wasn't meant to learn about.

"Who is it this time?" he threw a glance to the boy, who promptly pulled out a notebook and pencil.

"Hate to disappoint, but I don't got a name. What I do have is that he's missing his left eye, that he arrived no more than several days ago, and I think he came here from Garude." Leffi cleared some papers away from a chest so she could sit down. "Oh, and he stole something from Fermham. Seeing as I've been sent after it, it's probably something worth pawning off."

Varce scratched his chin and made a noise of contemplation, looking briefly down at his tiny compatriot. He had written a few snippets from Leffi's account, and awaited further descriptors. An eyepatch or scar would be easy to distinguish, but there needed to be more.

"Nothing else huh?" He gave a gesture with his head to the boy, who hurried off out the room in a flash. "I'll see what I can pull up. Until then I can only say you'd be wise to look in on it yourself, or just rest."

Leffi glanced outside at the darkening sky. "I'll start looking tomorrow," she said. A chair was cleared of papers, and a cushion rescued from even more. Combining the two, Leffi leaned back and closed her eyes, the faint rustling of papers and pens lulling her to sleep.

Scipio - Chapter 1: To Drink from the Fountain

It had been four days of barely speaking to one another, as it appeared Edith was fleeting and vagrant. If Scipio had known any better, he might have supposed she traversed the entirety of the Sphere in those long, drawn-out days. Scipio's greetings were met with indifference, and the one time he managed to get her attention in hopes of initiating a game of chess, she turned tail and made off into the distance.

The final day, however, Edith had seemingly become impatient, itching with anticipation to leave the sphere and for Urborg; she stayed at the farmer's -Durn- house from ignition to extinguishing. She couldn't avoid Scipio's games then.

"Don't expect to get any satisfaction if you win," she grumbled, sitting down before the chess pieces set up perfectly on the table before her.

Scipio smiled thinly. "This is the wrong game to play for satisfaction my dear. Chess is a game of the mind. You play in order to understand how your opponent thinks. If you can do that, you win." His hand hovered over the pieces that covered the board, moving from one end to the other slowly, stopping to pick up a black pawn, move it two spaces towards the center, and set it down on the board. Laying his head on his hand, silver eyes peering between the pieces across the monochrome field, he asked the small girl on the other side, "You know the rules right?"

"More or less," she responded, sounding quite unsure herself. She eyed a particular pawn and moved it a single space forward. "But don't go easy on me."

"I wouldn't dare," he responed. Actually, he had planned on doing just that, but she didn't need to know that. Without lifting his head, Scipio picked up on hand and gestured towards his left knight. It moved on its own, two spaces forward and one to the right.

Edith looked to the self-perpetuating knight with wonder underneath her mask, and then up to Scipio. "No need for parlor tricks spiderman," she said spitefully. The tiny girl reached for another pawn and moved it forward. Several turns later, the two were matched rather poorly; Edith was clearly on the losing side, but not by much. She had lost a few pieces, and Scipio but one. She continued on unabated, but the speed at which she made decisions indicated little consideration was taken in them.

"If this game was a real war, you would have died already," he said, having shifted his head onto his other hand when the first had fallen asleep. He really needed to get away from this sedentary Sphere. "Too rash, too bold, no strategy." Scipio slid his bishop from one end of the board to the other, taking Edith's other knight. "I truly hope this isn't how you are in real battle."

"It's worked for me thus far," she retorted, moving another piece to its certain doom, "I haven't exactly fought in a battle with multiple pieces anyways." She picked up her king piece and held it tightly before practically slamming it back onto its original position. "If it were your king versus my king, though, I think this'd be an entirely different situation." Edith's face was invisible to Scipio, but anyone could tell she appeared quite smug underneath it.

"Oh, would it?" Scipio mused. "Maybe you're right, but in chess when two kings go at it, neither side wins, not really. It's just mutual destruction at that point." He picked up the black queen from where it had sat unmoved for the entirety of the game and moved it next to Edith's white king. One square away diagonally was the black bishop he had moved two turns ago. "Check," he said flatly. She could get out of it, but only if she was willing to sacrifice her queen to destroy his.

"Till the last man," Edith whispered to herself, moving the king into safety, and thus surrendering the queen to Scipio. She leaned back and sighed heavily, quickly seeming uninterested in the game. Her breath practically spoke, 'defeat me and be done with it'.

"The king is misrepresented in chess. Should he not be more powerful, like the queen? No good king sits idly by in war. He fights, not runs away."

Scipio leaned back, attention lost from the game. There was no point once his opponent gave up. "You think so?" he yawned. "What I never understood about chess is why the king's defeat ends the game. A war never ends with the king's death. That has a nasty tendency of starting wars far more often than stopping them." He shook his head. "But no, this is just a game. If it was played like a real war, there would be no end to it unless each and every piece on the enemy's side was wiped out." He paused. "It really is a terrible game." With one move, he set his pawn on the far side of the board, exchanged it for his queen, and said, "Checkmate."

Edith sighed again, as if it weren't already obvious she gave up. She slapped her hands onto the chair's armrest and lifted up and away. "Silly game," she grumbled, walking away, presumably to sleep. The Urborg airship would arrive the morning after.

---

The morning of truth, when the ship from Urborg would arrive on the tiny agrarian Sphere, had finally arrived. Eager and impatient, Edith had risen from bed first and awaited Scipio outside, her gear packed up and stuffed into a bag slung across her breast. When Scipio presented himself, he found Edith tapping her foot impatiently, arms crossed. His arrival was met with a sigh heavy enough to instill depression in any common man.

"You finally ready to go?" she asked in annoyance.

Scipio walked slowly, relaxed, up to his small travelling companion. "Yes, I think so," he said. He looked back over his shoulder at the rural Sphere he was leaving behind. It had been better than most of the other Spheres he had visited, but he didn't think he would miss it much. He preferred more urban settings; places where things happened.

Scipio had no luggage, nor any packs or bags. He travelled light, bringing only the clothes on his back - very nice clothes mind you - and the money he kept in the pockets that lined the inside of what he wore. "Is it here yet?" he asked Edith, completely brushing aside her annoyance.

With a single thumb thrown over her shoulder, Edith pointed out a barely visible dot in the distant sky. It was clearly travelling, moving closer to the surface of the sphere a ways away. Turning, Edith made for the airship's inevitable landing spot, a tiny patch of stone amidst a flat meadow.

Traveling along a worn path of sandy dirt, the pair found their way to the ship's field, a measly thing that could have barely been called a landing spot. Given the quietness of the sphere, and the few passengers it ever took on board, it was never necessary for the ships to get anything but the smallest welcome. A single post sign along the path stated in fading paint the various ships that arrived there, and on which days and times.

Urborg's time was upon them.

The ship was minuscule, likely incapable of holding much more than a dozen individuals, though it was apparently well-kept despite this. No doubt a result of Bulwark's adherence to cleanliness and positive appearances. Edith approached as she pulled out a small ticket, practically waving it at the ship as if hoping they'd accept her in that instant.

The back of the ship opened up with a lowering rampart leading up into the cabin. At the top of the ramp stood a single individual clad in civilian clothing. Only the sword at his side made him seem anything less than the easiest pilot to trample over. For a moment, almost, Edith truly considered hijacking it and leaving the bearded man on the agrarian sphere. But that wouldn't look good in the Drider's eyes, she thought, and he was paying anyways. No need to stir trouble when there wasn't even an issue with money to begin with.

The man accepted her ticket with a smile, though granted a strange look as she walked past, out of his gaze. As Scipio approached, he failed to lose his expression of surprise in time to present himself properly. It was just too strange at that point. A masked Minou and a nobleman? Who the hell was he taking on board? Nevertheless, he accepted his ticket and continued to wait for any other passengers.

Edith sat in one of the seats lining the tiny cabin's interior with a huff, as if practicing for the long journey ahead.

"Relax," Scipio told his companion, "no amount of impatience will make us get there any sooner. Might as well just relax and make the best of the trip." The Drider's smile faltered for a moment, and he leaned back with a quiet groan. When whatever it had been passed, he pulled a white flask from inside his jacket pocket and drank from it. It was the first time he had eaten or drank anything in Edith's presence. "I don't do flying particularly well," he explained with a sheepish grin.

Replacing the flask, Scipio lay on his back across four of the cabin's seats. He sincerely hoped that no one else would be joining them aboard the ship. He didn't particularly care for crowds, especially not ones in small, confined spaces.

"I'd disagree," Edith responded, "but that'd mean doing something foolish." Edith ears perked up as Scipio's white flask made an appearance. She hadn't really seen him consume much on the Sphere prior, and him having a seemingly special canister for something piqued her curiosity. Was it alcohol? The man's appearance was most curious of all, not to mention what little of his powers she experienced. What a well-dressed man like him was looking for in her own quarry was a mystery.

"Say," she opened up, "what are you even after?" She awaited a response, but given her memory of consistently stern expressions on his part, she figured he wasn't the type to disclose such information so carelessly. "If you tell, I will as well."

The silver-eyed Drider looked at his masked companion and then stared out the cabin's window. "Hm, it's hard to say. What I'm after and why I'm on this ship with you to find where Kyarian went are two entirely separate matters. To me, finding him is merely a temporary distraction. No, not so. That implies I don't care what I discover either way." Scipio almost smiled at a memory of his mentor scolding him for his coldness. "I merely want to take Kyarian back to his home. He hasn't seen it in so long."

He looked back at Edith. "After that, my goals become quite vague," he said simply. "I'm not trying to be difficult, I merely am uncertain as to where the trail leads until I've arrived there, only then to find it was never there to begin with." A gentle smile as he ran his hand over his face. "I guess that wouldn't make sense though."

Behind the mask, Edith appeared almost dumbfounded, though in a unsatisfactory way.

"I was expecting something more adventurous," she said, "would have made my response seem less profound. It's like I've been cheated somehow." She practically threw herself back into the seat and sighed. It took a minute, but she eventually succumbed and held up her end of the deal.

"My teacher was betrayed, and I seek revenge," she started, though quickly finished, "that's all I'll say. Sufficient." The ship had begun to lift off amidst their conversation, a hum growing in the engine compartment. With its small size, the airship quickly took off into the sky.

Scipio laughed softly. "No, I'm not adventurer, but a cheater I have been called on occasion. Though Kyarian wouldn't have called himself an adventurer either, but his tales would have convinced you otherwise." Scipio's quiet laugh faded into silence, the hum of the ship's motion being the only sound in the cabin. The Drider moved his hands through the air above his face, wisps of white pouring from his fingertips and shaping into a humanoid puppet holding a thin blade. As Scipio's fingers danced, the puppet swordsman darted through the air between the two, slicing, blocking, dodging imaginary combatants.

"And then he went seeking revenge," the silver-eyed puppeteer said softly, raising his other hand. White arm-like tentacles reached up and wrapped around the puppet's ankles, tripping it and causing it to drop its sword, which fell apart into wisps of white thread. More reaching tendrils took the puppet's arms, and another wrapped around its neck. Scipio looked over at his short companion. "You see the point to this show?" he asked, spreading the fingers of both hands. The puppet was ripped apart by the white tentacles, the entire show disintegrating to nothing but a white head, which fell into Scipio's outstreched hand. He changed the face on the head into Edith's mask and tossed it to its rightful owner, solidifying the malleable silk into something more similar to stone as he did.

Edith surveyed the trinket quickly before clenching it in her hands and turning to Scipio with what he could only guess was a look of hatred.

"Revenge is a word," she seemed to pause, gathering her thoughts, "because it has come about. It has been achieved. I won't necessarily fall to the same fate as your Kyarian." She pocketed the solidified silk mask and leaned back again. "I mean no disrespect, but I believe myself to be of a greater skill in dealing with this particular individual."

Scipio just shrugged and turned his head away from the masked Minou. He wasn't going to try to dissuade her from her vengeance if she didn't want to be dissuaded. But at least he had tried a little. He hadn't thought to ask Kyarian to not go seeking his revenge. If Edith considered her skill above and beyond that of the Drider Guardsman, then she was either of frightnening caliber or simply arrogant. Scipio hadn't seen her do anything particularly impressive as of yet, so the latter was more likely, but he would give her the benefit of the doubt for now.

---

Edith and Scipio had fallen to silence for much of the trip's remainder, and given the length of it, made for an altogether awkward experience, at least in Edith's mind. She was visibly attempting to dissuade herself from trying to strike up another conversation, staring out the window, fiddling, or seemingly napping. It was difficult to tell under her mask.

Scipio, however, without such a guise, was obviously asleep but moments into the flight. Edith caught herself observing the man quite thoroughly, though never stopped holding some anxiety; the gods only knew when he might wake, or if he was simply feigning it.

A bump in the flight, and a shift in its orientation signalled that the ship had arrived at Urborg. Edith jumped to look out the window, and Scipio was roused from his slumber. A treeline stretched far out into the horizon, obscured by a faint mist. Urborg, evidently then, was a lush jungle world with nary a view of the ground beneath.

Throughout the flight, the duo's pilot had remained seemingly silent, or at the very least quieted by the metal door between the cabin and the pilot's seat, but as they began to descend, it became apparent his voice was quite different; they could hear it.

The pilot was seemingly shouting, but through the door, it was only a muffled rage. Edith gave a short glance in the door's direction, but ignored much of it, intent on observing the outside world from above. However, her gaze was interrupted with something entirely different than simple jungle.

A beam of light shone upwards from the treeline, barely missing their ship. It flashed for a second before fading away, and suddenly the ship veered to the side as if out of control. Edith gripped the seat she was in and cried out. The ship was tilted, diving sideways towards the treeline, but still maintained a semblance of manageability. They weren't falling out of the sky, but with the continued appearance of bright lights, it seemed like they might be soon.

Scipio yawned as he woke up. "Morning," he said sleepily, though much of the haze was an act. The ship tilted again, and Scipio stood and walked over to the window just in time to see yet another beam of light fly towards the ship. "Hm, I wonder if that's their way of saying go away," he mused. As the ship tilted in the opposite direction the Drider had no problem keeping upright where he stood. "Do you think we should jump ship?" he asked his masked companion.

"Are you insane?!" she yelled, tensing up in her seat as she practically melded with the very ship, "I dunno about you, but I don't exactly fall gracefully! Or safely for that matter!"

"Oh come now, it isn't that far. Though I doubt I could take the pilot as well. That would be problematic, he could very well ruin my reputation by saying I left him to die alone." Scipio thought on it as the ship leaned one way and then the other. "You know, we aren't even sure if these lights are truly dangerous. It may just be this Sphere's version of fireworks or a light show. I've been to many Spheres with such practices-"

Scipio stopped as one of the lights passed through the ship's hull. In a split second moving from the side and into the cabin like a phantasmal beacon cutting through the steel. The moment it had reached the center of the cabin, everything vanished before their eyes. The front half of the ship was torn from their own in a fiery explosion, and their mode of levitation was instantly lost. They were falling likes stones, but a couple hundred feet from the earth.

"Well, that was convenient. No need to worry about the pilot ruining my reputation anymore." Scipio somehow remained upright as the entire cabit spun and fell, as if his feet were welded to the floor. "We should be going now I think," he said as the cabin filled with white. Threads found Edith and pulled her to the Drider's arms as he leapt into open air. As soon as he was clear of the falling ship, Scipio streched out his eight spider legs. White silk formed a canopy detween the ends of the legs and shaped into a white parachute. Scipio laughed, "I love flying! What about you?"

Edith cared little for the structural integrity of Scipio's clothing, and gripped it as if it were but a tiny string holding her above the abyss. Were in not for the fact that he tailored his own clothing, he'd have been nude. Edith replied to Scipio's joke with terrified squeals, though soon they died down and became mild mumbles as she realized her safety was secured.

Edith lowered her head as the remains of the ship fell but a dozen feet to their side, caving in on itself below the treeline and finally exploding in a flash of green haze. A flock of birds squawked and flew off from the crash. The daredevil and his cargo soon floated to the sanctity of hard ground as well, brushing past large leaves dripping with moisture.

Edith immediately disembarked with a rough push upon Scipio, and quickly checked her backside to ensure the sword was still there. She let off a few obscenities under her breath, and paced around a couple times, as if to gain her bearings again.

Scipio checked over himself as well and repaired his poor clothes. Behind him, the silk parachute unwove itself and disintegrated into individual threads. "Well, something tells me we're not welcome here. I wonder why they were shooting at us. Maybe they found out who we are and why we're here, and maybe they're associates of Kyarian's prey, and maybe that makes them enemies." Scipio's silver eyes narrowed, becoming dangerous, as he said the last part. "Maybe we should go introduce ourselves," he suggested lightly.

"Seems a little far-fetched that they know who we were, holed up inside that cabin," Edith proclaimed, now much less frantic than before. "But nevertheless, they are most certainly not friendly." Edith lightly touched her sword and looked about, her ears twitching underneath her yellow hood. "Given how close the lights were, I'd say the culprits are real close by. We should get moving, find civilization. I don't suppose you also have super vision and know where to go?" she said sarcastically.

"No clue at all," he said, shrugging nonchalantly. "And the super vision is also unfortunately a no, though my night vision isn't bad." Scipio looked around, "Too bad it isn't night." His eight spider legs were still unfolded, and he used them to jump from the ground onto the side of a massive tree trunk. "I could climb this tree here and see if I see anything," he suggested.

"Be my guest. Seems like there're a few trees in the way," she remarked.

"No harm in trying," Scipio said, his long arachnid legs making him look very much like a massive spider as he moved up the tree's thick trunk. He stopped halfway up and yelled down at Edith, "Oh yes, if you happen to get attacked by anyone, or if something big, which in your case is relative, tries to eat you and you can't deal with it on your own, just yell real loud. I may choose to hear you." It was hard to tell if he was joking or not, as the next second he had disappeared through the canopy.

The climb was dominated by vines and leaves capable of serving as Scipio's personal hammock, and his ability to remain dry was shattered. By the time he had reached the treeline, the material was practically sticking to his skin. At the top, little was visible beyond a vast surface of green, though a certain, peculiar feature had caught his eye off in the distance. A grey crag, jutting above the jungle's grasp, layered with a soft mist. But in particular, a small gleam that shimmered on its peaks was most notable.

The silver eyed Drider took a mental picture of what he saw, though up above the treetops it was difficult to judge distance or direction. He didn't bother speculating as to what he was seeing, he'd seen far to many strange things on various Spheres to be suprised by much. The thought did pop into his head though that he could be looking at the thing that had fired upon the ship. Regardless, it was a landmark. Scipio tried to keep his body oriented towards the structure he had seen as he descended back through the canopy, though it was difficult going simply navigating at all through the dense foliage. He fell the last couple dozen feet to the ground, his long legs bending to set him down lightly on the forest floor.

Scipio turned to face Edith, about to relay his findings to the Minou, though found his gaze pulled much higher than the girl's height.

Just behind her, pressed against her back, was an unknown individual. He held a blade against her neck, pressing her outwards towards Scipio, clearly threatening him with violence. There were several men, in fact, surrounding Scipio in a half-circle around the jungle clearing, armed with longswords and formidable black armor.

Edith was silent, though let out an occasional grunt of discomfort and anger. Scipio could tell under her mask that she was seriously considering trying her luck in her captor's grasp.

"Pretty prinny for a crash survivor," the captor remarked, gesturing towards Scipio's clothing.

Scipio looked down at himself, soaked from his trip into the treetops. "My my, I am a mess," he said. "I suppose you wouldn't allow me a minute to clean myself up? Appearances are the most imporantant thing, after all." Scipio channeled the Seer aspect, listening for heartbeats. He heard his own, but he muffled that one, and he heard Edith's, now familiar to him and also easily pushed out of his attention. All of the other heartbeats belonged to these new men. He pushed himself to differentiate each individual beating, to determine just how outnumbered he was.

Five heartbeats, he determined... and yet he saw six men before him.

"I don't mind. It's nice to see some cleanliness on this Sphere once in awhile," the captor stated. As Scipio's attention was turned slightly to him, he deduced the missing heartbeat; Edith's holder lacked one, as far as Scipio's abilities led him.

Scipio nodded thanks to the man. "Finally a criminal with some class. The last person who tried to kill me certainly couldn't have cared less what I looked like." His soaked clothing seemed to shrink suddenly, retracting and molding to the Drider's skin, squeezing the water out from between the fabric and his body. The material then balooned outwards, a ripple running from top to bottom pushing the water off. Scipio ran his hand through his hair, likewise pushing the water out with a comb of miniscule white threads. "Ah, that is much better. So, about this whole hostage situation."

"Indeed. About this hostage situation," the man began, "Thank you for confirming that it's a hostage situation, and we're not just wasting our time with this midget." The man pressed the blade slightly closer. "There won't be any negotiation. You're going to turn around and keep marching in that direction until we tell you to stop."

With his chin, again, he gestured to Scipio, staring at his spider legs. "Those legs tell me I'd be better off taking you into camp for a conversation, rather than offing you both right here."

"That is true. It isn't often a Drider is captured, especially in recent years. I bet I'm worth a fortune." Scipio laughed. "But you know, something about walking towards what may or may not be imminent death or enslavement just doesn't sit right with me." He looked at Edith's captor, if not his own, and asked, "Do you know the one problem that every hostage situation has in common?"

Without waiting for an answer, Scipio channeled three different aspects, Weaving and Manipulating and Changing to make a white bow and arrow appear in his hands. "It's the hostage." He shot Edith through the heart, the massive arrow lodging itself with both ends visible on either side of her body, the tip pointing out her back stained red. "I guess this isn't a hostage situation anymore," Scipio commented lazily, the white bow disappating from before him.

Without much of a glance, the man seemingly realized his mistake, and simply pushed Edith to the ground, who was much too stunned to voice herself otherwise.

"I suppose it wasn't in the first place," the man grumbled, "But this will end all the same." Rolling his shoulders, it had become apparent to both Scipio and the five other soldiers that a fight was about to take place.

"Pulled apart at the legs or not, Miss Ariek will enjoy seeing your body."

Veyati - Chapter 2: Meatshield

Within a but an hour of trudging through the underbrush, the sun had extinguished itself, casting the forest into an even deeper dark. For Iroas, direction was held with his lantern, and it seemed for the moment that his suspicions of the other two were wrong. They seemingly needed the light of his lantern, appearing vaguely to follow its guidance, rather than their own. The trees began to grow slightly thicker, and with it the crunching of dead leaves underneath became louder. Few noises escaped the prison bars of trunks and branches beyond, leaving the traveling trio to their own noisy creations.

They had since stopped within the forest and set up a small camp, as Iroas had noted the lengthy distance between them and the Belial residence they sought. If they continued to move and make noise, he worried, they'd increase their chances of being intercepted by something unpleasant. Fortunately, with two others, he worried little of Dusk Horrors becoming an issue. If the rumors were in fact true, then three bodies meant they would stay away.

Of course, it certainly didn't mean they were completely safe within the woods. There were other things that didn't care about numbers. Iroas set down his lantern and gave it a tad bit more fuel before laying against the trunk of a tree. Suggesting they take turns resting for the night, he made a motion to sleep first. Nobody objected.

In the darkness, Caslin and Veyati remained quiet and alert to the forest, situated on opposite each other around the stone-still flame; zero wind allowed the light to remain as taught as the trees around it. Neither it's light nor it's uncomfortable heat were needed, so both of them gave the fire a wide berth. An hour passed, and it felt like a good time to check on Iroas.

Caslin gave Veyati an expectant look through his mask, tilting his head down and giving her a subtle nod. She made a double take at him and Iroas and then, after a whisper of a couple strange words, she crawled through the fallen leaves and dirt. Not a leaf nor branch crunched under her hands and feet. Veyati planted her hands on the ground near Iroas and leaned over him, mere inches away as she looked over him. He didn't stir. In fact, somehow he carried himself like an officer even in his sleep, completely still, appearing as if he were deep in concentration. A soldier even in rest. Veyati smirked. It spoke volumes of Iroas' sense of duty, but she couldn't help but find it amusing. Veyati turned back to see Caslin raising his hands up questioningly. She nodded, and then he gestured for her to come over.

"He's fast asleep," she whispered as she crawled up by Caslin's side, sitting beside him. The two remained quiet for several minutes, listening to the sounds of the forest. The lack of wind rustling the leaves left only the sound of nocturnal creatures scampering about. Despite the rumors on Garude, it seemed quite peaceful at night. At least, as far as they both knew. The relative silence of the night was broken when Caslin decided to speak up.

"I... trust your judgement. You've never done wrong by me before," he said, "But I'm not entirely sure about him." Caslin made a subtle nod in the direction of the sleeping soldier.

Veyati looked down at the ground, away from the irritating glow of the fire, and gave her words some thought. They'd barely had a moment to discuss this quest they'd taken up. She stayed silent for a while longer.

"What do these vampires have to do with us, or our people?" he added. There was no accusatory tone, just genuinely curiosity as to why she chose this path. Caslin shifted to face her directly as he sat, then continued on. "We could leave now, and this incident would be unable to follow us."

Veyati stayed facing away from him, and the two stayed silent for maybe another minute before she responded. "From what I've gathered, this sphere is riddled with phantoms and beasts that lurk in the dark, puppeteering the people of Garude-- even in the few days we've been here I've learned that much. No one had the courage or strength to confront them. No one wants to take responsibility for it in their own country." She almost sounded frustrated, but hid her outrage beneath a voice of neutrality. Caslin nodded in understanding but, just in case he still wasn't convinced, Veyati turned back to him and added one last thing. "Do you know what would've become of Okufen if Magh still lived? If his perversions of magic and mana were allowed to continue?" Caslin didn't say anything in response, but they both knew the images of death and corruption that name evoked. The stories it told on its own. It took a moment, but he nodded again, this time while Veyati could see.

"So then... what do we plan to do?" He asked.

Veyati turned away from the fire and put a hand over the bottom of her mask briefly in thought. "I want to learn their intentions," she explained, "Why the vampires are the puppet masters. What they gain from it, and who else benefits. More importantly... why they attacked us."

Their conversation was interrupted by a distinct crunch of leaves nearby, which, following such a calm silence, seemed all the more disruptive. Shortly, it was followed by a second crunch, then a third. At four, it had stopped. Iroas hadn't budged from his position, still laying with his upper back against the tree, hands clasped over his belly.

Maybe it was the passing of some slightly larger creature, but the two that had remained awake failed to identify its source amidst the trees. Nothing but their gnarled forms twisting around one another and the patchy appearance of detritus could be made out.

Then it became apparent, something entirely unsuitable for the remoteness of their position. A burlap sack rested at the side of a tree, seemingly bulging with several objects within. It was patched in several places, and torn in many. From what they could tell, various knick-knacks protruded from the holes. Most were impossible to identify, however.

It seemed less sinister than simply out of place for a moment, but when the sack itself rose and fell at one constricted end, the two realized why it was there. Tracing the narrowing edge of the sack upwards, they made out a twisted hand grasping it, up an arm, finally into the elongated maw of some beast. Two beasts. Standing at least ten feet in height, their shadowy and sinewy appearance made for the perfect camouflage within the forest. Their pitch-black skin seemed to be made of darkness itself, sprouting a fuzzy, chaotic coat upon it not unlike the ground they stood upon. It was if the darkest mud itself had taken form and stood upon two stooped legs.

They bore no eyes, only a long toothy maw of shadow looking like a crocodile covered in underbrush. Besides the sack, they seemed like uncivilized wanderers of the dark, hunched and breathing heavily a couple dozen feet from their camp. With time, they made out the remains of a large trench coat, worn by the creature without the burlap sack in its hand.

Seemingly not noticing that Caslin and Veyati were aware of their presence, they whispered between one another, staring the camp down as if pausing to consider entering it, like a hungry man considers the offerings of a stall in the market.

They came in more than one.

Smart folks.

Those two. They do not smell right.

Like mages.

Even more stinky, I say.

Why are they here. There is no path.

Suspicious.

The pair of shadows were silent for awhile, but stayed put, staring into their camp from afar. Veyati assumed they'd be taking action if they knew their cover was blown, or that they'd been heard, so she continued to act like nothing was wrong and turned to face Caslin. He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes, and the silent stare was all he needed to know what to do. The two stood up, one after the other, and casually walked to the other end of the fire where Iroas lay. Maybe he wasn't yet completely trusted, but they weren't about to throw him to the wolves either. Over the crunching leaves, Veyati and Caslin whispered a plan to each other, then sat back down around the fire. They know something. Don't confront them unless they present themselves as a threat. Something seemed strange. Veyati made a connection back to the party where she spoke to Makul.

Maybe you're a mage?

Veyati narrowed her eyes, letting her hands slide off her lap and to the ground. What made him guess that from her attire alone, and how did these creatures know? She couldn't imagine why it took this long to see his behavior that day as more peculiar than even the first day they met... and compared to the rest of Garude, he was an obvious outlier. Veyati pushed the thought away and instead decided to focus on preparing for the worst.

I like their masks.

Yes. I have not seen them anywhere before.

The soldier there.

Makes it not easy.

And if they are mages.

Even worse.

The shadows continued to converse with each other, the one in the trenchcoat doing so as he tapped his thin fingers upon each other, as if in anticipation. Still, they did not approach the camp, and after awhile, seemingly lost interest or thought it wiser to avoid confrontation. Within minutes, they turned back to the forest, and trudged away, dragging the burlap sack of stuff behind them. Crisis averted, and Iroas was none the wiser to what otherwise would likely have been a gruesome demise for him. If they hadn't been present, at least. Caslin waited for the two beasts to leave, then huffed out a breath and shook his head. "That was harrowing," he said with a sigh.

"They complimented our masks," Veyati said with a shrug, trying to bring in a little humor with her facetiousness. Caslin just stared at her, and Veyati giggled, already knowing the look he was giving her.

Veyati's facetiousness aside, Caslin got back on topic. "Iroas is going to need some help if this is a common occurrence, Veyati," he said, "Would you do the honors?"

Veyati nodded and drew her knife out. "Gladly," she said. After it was noted that Garude was dangerous enough to need it, the use of a protection spell was warranted. She peeled her left glove off up to her knuckles to expose her palm and placed the knife firmly against her skin. A long scar stretched across her palm where the blade rested, easy to see even in the dim glow of fire light with how it contrasted to the rest of her pale skin. One quick drag of the knife, and the scar was reopened, letting her blood freely drip from the wound. No heavy breathing in anticipation, no prelude, no wincing-- just a focused stare.

"Cemir. Quothest. Kulur." She chanted the arcane words, pointing her dripping palm to the forest floor. A warm blue glow emanated from her hand, then dug into the ground and spread out in a circle around them like a wild growth of vines and roots. The light eventually dissipated, but there was a subtle hum of energy that could be sensed from the circle.

Veyati almost pulled her glove back over, but jerked to a stop before it wrapped over her palm. Iroas seemed far too inquisitive to let something like a cut on her hand go. Maybe far too inquisitive for his own good. She peeked over her shoulder at Iroas to make sure he was sleeping, then turned away and lifted up her mask just to lick the blood off her palm. Veyati furrowed her eyebrows. Oh right. Damn it. Wounds continue bleeding until they clot up. Time for another spell, then. "Kiros. Siser." She whispered, then stretched her fingers to test it. The wound stayed open, and it stung, but blood ceased to flow from it. Much better.

"That should hold until morning," she said, pulling her glove back down.

There were a few minutes of silence. Veyati shuffled about to search for her backpack, then glanced at Iroas, then to Caslin.

"This is probably the only time we'll be able to eat and drink in peace..." she mumbled, hooking her fingers around one strap of her backpack to pull it in.

Caslin stared at her for a couple seconds, then scrambled over to the other end of the fire to grab his own pack. No reason to waste even a single second. They'd been holding on long enough.

---

Eager to take rest where he could, Iroas underwent a second round of sleep after the other two themselves woke up for their next shift. Though he stressed to them that he could remain awake for the rest of the night, they themselves seemed even more inclined to stay awake. As the sun began to glow brighter, he awoke to find the pair seemingly inexhaustible. Perhaps they were simply well rested prior.

Iroas packed up his belongings and extinguished the lantern, now able to follow the forest grounds on the sun's light.

"From here, we'll find our way to the Belial Residence's outer grounds." he said. Veyati eyed him dubiously behind her mask. As interesting as playing it by ear would sound, she hadn't heard much of a plan since they began their trek. She loped up beside Iroas and caught his attention by calling his name.

"You have a plan," she said, managing an expectant look behind the mask with the help of her gestures, "Right?"

"A plan yes. One that involves lots of assumptions, though," he smirked. Iroas began the walk first. "Little will be known simply walking about the grounds, so I propose we break inside and see for ourselves what is going on. If there is nothing, we leave. The Belial residence will appear large, but it is of a smaller caliber compared to the other wealthy elites on Garude. We might expect one or two violent individuals within."

Iroas turned to the other two, and offered them a look of doubt. "I hope you're fine with the potential for interrogation?"

The two glanced at each other briefly and exchanged some inscrutable expressions. "As long as they're the one's being interrogated, yes," Veyati answered.

"I didn't plan on being interrogated, but I suppose we should prepare for that too, just in case," he chuckled. "If we're going to get anything out of these vampires, I'll bet it'll come down to just who can throw the harder punch. Possibly spells," he turned to Veyati, "I hope you could manage that, if need be." The trio pushed on in the forest, eventually coming to a clearing split by a cold gravel road.

Iroas looked down both ways, seeing a silvery object in the far distance to his left. The gates to their residence, no doubt. Iroas beckoned them to return back into the cover of the forest, so as not to be bold and knock on the front gates. "We'll observe from the sides for awhile, then see if we can't scout out a way in." The group followed the gravel road up to the outer gates of the manor, which had since become visible past a tall black fence.

Quietly, they approached its dark bars and peered through, looking upon the front corner of the substantially-sized home. A wide porch stretched around its entirety, painted a pristine white and bearing the occasional rocking chair or potted plant. The home itself was three stories tall, with spired roofing and a brick wall lining. For the time being, only the front door and the windows on the first floor seemed like viable entrances, though Iroas suspected they possessed a back door, and possibly a basement entrance on the other side of the house.

"Either one of you any good at sneaking into places? I wasn't exactly trained by the army to be an assassin," Iroas said.

Caslin made a double take at Veyati, who was simply staring blankly and marveling at the colossal house these vampires owned, and then nudged her. She was half-way toward retrieving her sketchbook when she got an elbow to the side. "Oh," Veyati immediately perked up and spun to face Iroas, giving him a short apologetic bow, "I think I have a few tricks I can use."

Iroas smiled and nodded, "Wonderful. What are they?"

Veyati blinked at him, which actually just came off as a blank stare through the mask. Right, he has no idea who he is actually talking to still. Her mouth quirked up in a smile and she answered, "We'll just play it by ear and see what works. I'm sure you're more concerned about results than means, hmm?"

"Definitely," Iroas grinned, turning back to the manor, "I'll follow your lead." Iroas paused for a moment, observing the area a bit more, looking back over his shoulder and down the road a few times before speaking again. "Ready when you are."

Veyati stepped over to Iroas and sized him up, and held a hand over the bottom of her mask in thought. "That armored plating is going to make an awful racket, no matter how stealthy you try to be-- well, not without some help. But..." She sighed. Silencing his armor meant revealing more about herself, and she just wasn't confident enough in him yet to do so, but... she did need him. Wait a minute. Veyati raised her finger, "Maybe we can get away with walking through the front door."

"Think so? What's on your mind?" Iroas asked. "I mean, they are prone to sleeping during the day, possibly going to sleep right about now. We can't be sure the front door is even unlocked."

Veyati crouched down and looked back out to the grounds. Beautiful, covered on all sides by forest, and atmospheric, but... ultimately empty. Maybe they wouldn't even have to be sneaky, but that would be ridiculous. Nobody this important would make infiltrating their home that easy.

"...What guards their manor, I wonder?" she mused.

"The Belial's?" Iroas looked pensive, "Maids, butlers, a cute dog." He laughed, "Seriously? I cannot be sure. The Cain's clearly employ the undead, but the Belial's methods I have heard nothing about. For now, I can only expect-"

"Wait," Veyati interrupted, suddenly adopting a dead serious tone. "Undead? We'll be dealing with undead?"

"N-no. I meant the Cain's employed them. The ghasts from days ago?" Iroas clarified.

That explains the horrible feeling in the air. They weren't constructs. They were perversions of magic. Veyati suddenly seemed... more disgusted at the realization, almost visibly so. Something was tense about her almost complete stillness before she finally nodded to Iroas. "Undead... right... I'm sorry, go on. What do you think we can expect, Iroas?"

"At most, the Belial's are a minor player in the vampiric world. They have money, as you can see, though do not swim in it. I wouldn't expect undead, but guard dogs might pose a problem. Their heads of family are the most likely to be capable of remotely-substantial magic. That'd be my best guess," Iroas explained.

That was a bit relieving, if vague, but at least enough to work with. Veyati turned back to the grounds and thought it over a little longer. They had a little knowledge of their opponents. Their opponents had no knowledge of them, or their presence, or their numbers. All odds were stacked as well as they could be.

"We could head around back and find a less obvious entrance," Caslin suggested, "Or, if anyone is feeling particularly brave and bold this morning. It might be the last thing anyone would expect."

"Someone coming through the front door on a cool morning, miles from town? If they anticipated that, they're more paranoid than the Emperor," Iroas scoffed.

Caslin shrugged. "Case in point."

Veyati nodded in agreement and stood up, making a vague gesture toward the manor. "I guess that's what we'll do, then."

Alexandra Chapter 1: Hall of Silent Marble

Daytime in the tight corridors of Bulwark's marketplace labyrinth. A thin path of bright light cut its way across dim shadows created by the overhanging rooflines. The alley was no more than ten feet in width, and few spared available space. In whatever manner they could, vendors large and small took the opportunity to furnish the shadows with their wares, though neatly at the very least. Bulwark was no slum, as a whole or in particular areas. It was difficult to come across an area of notable poverty, and even then, it seemed as if they were lacking in any sort of despair. The city practically exuded happiness and satisfaction.

Alexandra Talon worked within the confines of a notable shop in the alleyway, not so hidden due to its colorful wooden sign hanging from the front.

'Vial Venue' was printed in red letters on both sides. The potions shop was headed by a single elderly man and his newest employee; Alexandra herself. Despite the minimized staff, it ran well. Those that could purchase the expensive concoctions did so with relative frequency, and there was no shortage in patronage.

Even moreso enjoyable was her hefty salary. The old man had opted to give her much of the store's earnings, citing his lack of legacy and desire for little as the prime motive to do so. The caretaker did just that; mostly cleaning and dealing with taxes. He left much of the brewing and selling to Alexandra herself. Days were relatively busy, but without a chaotic haste that was apparent in other establishments. Customers came in knowing what they wanted, and received their merchandise promptly and with no trouble.

Alexandra busied herself behind the counter, working to fill an order for a customer that had insisted on standing at the front of the shop to wait. She carefully mixed a measure of powder into the solution, ignoring the gaze that seemed to be burning a pair of holes into her back. The lack of any partition between the front of the shop and the work area did wonders for the more paranoid customers but seemed to make the impatient patrons even more so.

With the final ingredient added, it was time to set the solution to chill. Rather than cross the room to the ice box, Alexandra traced a sign in the air with a finger while muttering under her breath. The spell caught and began to pull heat from the flask and it's contents, depositing it into the larger container of water on the floor. As frost began to form on the sides of the flask she waved her hand and destroyed the connection. At last finished, the potion was dropped into a felt bag and handed to the customer.

"I'm sorry for the wait." She wasn't, not really. A chemist rushing through an order was a sure sign of an amatuer. It brought to mind the words of her first teacher, ‘Haste makes bodies'. It was as true as it was morbid. Even though she would be hard pressed to make a mistake bad enough to turn a cure for heartburn into a poison, it was still well within the realm of possibility.

Her customer accepted the sack with a bowed head, opening it for a brief second as if to examine its contents like he knew what he was looking for. She hadn't seen him before, but given the medication requested, it was likely he was familiar with at least the color and consistency of the concoction. Retreating back into the narrow street, Alexandra was left to her passive work once again, written recipes still needing creation.

For a time she was alone, as the store owner was almost always holed up in the back behind a short and thick wooden door, tending to papers and mulling over his old life. A jingle at the store entrance, however, ended her prior work. Moving to the front, Alexandra faced the new customer, a tall and wide man with an obscene number of facial scars. So numerous were they, it seemed as if they formed the entirety of his wrinkles, making him look old and worn. Removing his dulled red hood, he looked straight to Alexandra, seemingly uninterested in the store itself. He knew what he wanted, it was clear in his eyes.

Alexandra returned to the counter, flashing a sincere smile. She did well to avoid giving his scars more than the most cursory glance. "Welcome, how can i help you today?"

For all his apparent oldness, the man looked at Alexandra with a young, bright pair of eyes. Their unwavering stare reflected an almost sinister focus, practically daggers themselves held at her neck. He returned her brief smile with his own wrinkled one, a mumble of recognition rumbling in his chest.

"Not sure quite yet," he grumbled, his voice gravelly. Turning his attention to the shop around him, he examined a few items and materials, clearly judging them with his eyes and occasionally a light touch. After a minute of wandering, he turned his body to Alexandra, though kept his head and eyes shifting about.

"I'm looking for someone with experience," he began, "experience with chemistry and alchemy. That much should be evident if I'm here." The man laughed to himself. "It is difficult to explain here, though I can say it might prove perilous." He grinned wide.

"In this day and age though, there's plenty of time and reason to dive into danger, right? Forgive me, this must all be sounding quite strange and out of place. I am Anorm. Anorm Geras," he extended a hand in greeting.

She frowned for a brief handful of seconds, mulling over his words. "I'm afraid we might not be able to help you. While we are capable of taking on special orders, we strive to distance ourselves from any illegal activities, lest we give our craft a bad name."

"It is far from illegal, ma'am. Ordered by the King himself," Anorm stated, fishing into his sleeves for a parchment. Unfurling it with a flick, he presented it to Alexandra from a distance, and it seemed authentic enough. He tucked it back in. "You need not worry about a bad reputation."

She remained, outwardly at least, unimpressed by his claims. Planting both hands on the top of the counter, she leaned in slightly closer. "And if I were to take on this job for the king, what might I expect for compensation?" She wasn't exactly hurting for money, not with the generous wages she was currently earning but Alexandra had learned that one should never pass up the chance for something better.

Anorm's smile became even wider. "Money. Adventure. Fame… A chance at ending the Silence of Life."

This sounded like quite the long term offer. This was quite the chance and far too much of an opportunity to pass up. On the other hand, her conscience was reluctant to leave the old man to run the business on his own. these two sides warred for a very brief moment before she made up her mind. There were many other talented chemists in the city, although none with her skillset, and it wouldn't be difficult for him to run things on his own.

"I'm in, when do we start?"

"Eager it seems. Good. We start in a week's time. There is little to do on your end, though I might suggest you brew and gather as many useful potions as possible. I'll leave it up to you to decide what useful means in the end. I trust your skill and knowledge," Anorm commented, fixing the sleeve around his right wrist. "You are to be at the front gates of the Royal Guard's Second Military Complex in a week's time. I along with all other participants will be there to debrief you fully." Anorm turned away towards the door. "Until then, enjoy your time."

---

A week of frantic preparation passed with Alexandra dividing her time between finishing up the last of the orders at the shop, brewing a variety of antidotes and medicines as well as buying up any supplies that she might need. After saying her last goodbyes at the shop, she strode towards the Military Complex, having already checked out the area several days before. Little was gleaned however, as without a form of identification, Alexandra was forbidden from entering particularly far into its walls. As much as she'd wanted to be prepared for any situation only the necessities were brought, fitting nicely into an oilskin bag over her shoulder.

The commonplace appearance of shops, homes, and cobblestone streets broke way into an immense walkway of solid, smooth stone. The monolithic road was wide enough for a parade of horses, she thought, with flags decorating the waist-high walls on either side.

In the distance, formidable iron gates stood closed, and at their feet, a peculiar caravan sat waiting. A huge host of individuals stood or sat around several horse-drawn carts stuffed to the brim with supplies such that rope was needed to hold the side-most packages in place. Many of them were unloaded already, crates being pried open with crowbars and lifted off somewhere else.

Alexandra approached, and countless eyes followed her. The more figures she looked briefly upon, the more it seemed she was in with a rough group, mercenaries, if she could guess. Some were more timid, merchants, seemingly, along with what looked like a gardener, a bespectacled mage, and a weak-looking royal-blooded male. It was difficult to tell if this was a serious mission or a museum.

The longer she stood and observed, the more uneasy she became. It could have been worse, however, given that they were on Bulwark and the most danger that most people faces was getting lost down an unfamiliar street. Try as she might, Alexandra couldn't help but feel that this may be one of those expeditions that become famous for never being heard from again. Putting her reservations aside, she approached the group.

The first one to respond was a heavily tattooed and bald man who insisted on walking about shirtless. He was wrapping some rope around a cylinder, seemingly readying it for a smaller packaging. Looking up, he grinned at Alexandra with a jerk of his head.

"Mornin' lass," he greeted, "you don't look like a military type. Can't say you're headin' in for other reasons. So, you're with us then?" he deduced. A few other individuals turned their attention to the conversation, listening out of the corner of their ears as they tended to their own tasks.

"Not military but I can say that it won't take long before I prove my use." She looked through the group again, scanning faces. "Is Anorm around, I've a question for him."

"Aye, he's around," another individual mentioned, "he should be around the front gates up there." The man threw a thumb to the huge barrier further along the path, past a maze of carriages and boxes. Before Alexandra could leave, however, she was held in place by the tattooed man's words.

"Say, before ye' leave, what's yer' profession?"

"I'm a chemist, among other things. "She paused for a second to speak before continuing to the gate. Threading her way through the assembled mob she made it to her destination without being stopped by anyone else.

At the foot of the gates, a pair of massive guardsmen stood taught, spoken to by a cloaked figure; Anorm's red clothing was easily picked out. Though he himself was a relatively tall man, the knights he spoke to made him seem minuscule. They were either Giants or freakishly tall humans, clad in armor that no weapon Alexandra had ever laid upon could possibly damage, she thought. They merely nodded to his quiet words until he finished.

Anorm turned to find Alexandra before him, and he seemed quite stern. His voice didn't convey the same, however. "Ah, the chemist. Good to see you follow through. Some of ours have failed to show up, no doubt put off by the prospect of danger. He seemed almost poised to give Alexandra a hardy slap on the shoulder, but refrained. "Got everything you need? Good." Anorm didn't wait for her to answer.

"We'll be heading down momentarily, the gates are about to open up." Indeed, it seemed as though the guardsmen had turned to begin pushing open the massive fence. The thick bars and their height made the task difficult even for their presumably immeasurable strength. Anorm walked past Alexandra and back towards the caravan, beckoning her with a hand.

"So, you're probably wondering what we're doing here. You know what this place is?" he asked.

Alexandra shook her head. She was a little bit taken aback that they weren't leaving the Sphere right away but quickly recovered. "I don't, but I doubt that you would organise an expedition without having a clue to get us started. I assume that you believe that we'll find one where ever you're taking us first."
"This is one of the many entrances to the Blade Crypt, the most well-guarded one in fact. It may not seem like it, but it is. Besides those giants, there's a wealth of unseen spells that judge the intentions of all who enter. Only the emptiest of minds could hope to walk past them and go unnoticed. We'll be descending into the Crypt. There's something within the King would like us to retrieve," Anorm explained.

She nodded taking everything in. "So we're taking the most impressive, heavily guarded entrance and making the largest scene so that the king might be seen to be doing something." She quickly changed topics, not wanting to stray too far into politics. "So you're not entirely sure what other dangers might lie where we're going and you've taken this group to make sure that we can tackle anything we come up against."

"As many people from as many walks of life as possible, though not for the reasons you might think. The dangers are unknown, but the path is not. I know what we need for the initial path, but what lies beyond it we'll have to find out," Anorm said, almost with intended crypticness. Once again, his face seemed as though he wished to pat her on the back. "Worry not. You'll see just what I mean once we're inside." Anorm wandered off, yelling towards the rest of the caravan to get up and get ready to move.

Scipio - Chapter 1: To Drink from the Fountain

Having already brandished their weapons before Scipio even arrived on the scene, so there was little time to size each other up before blades began to charge. The foremost man took a few steps forward, brandishing an eerily silver blade, twisting it around his hand with flair. Edith stirred slightly on the ground, coming to from the shock of being pierced by Scipio's infinitely thin arrow, thoguh none of the guards -luckily- took any notice.

"I really hope we can do this with you alive, my fancy friend. Might we shake on it? On keeping this civil?" the man questioned, only ten feet from Scipio. He stopped the spinning of his blade and stopped in a readied position. "I'd like to keep all my parts as well."

Scipio stood up a little straighter as he got into his killing stance. Eight sharp spider legs curled around his human-like body, for an entirely opposite reason they might have done so on a normal spider. Scipio looked out from his cage of limbs and said, "There are things we all would like to happen. Unfotunately for you..." Scipio channeled the Rusher aspect, and time around him seemed to slow to a crawl. He pushed off from the jungle floor with all ten of his empowered legs, shooting over the head of the man who lacked a heart at impossible speed and landing heavily on the side of a massive tree.

"... your request is especially unlikely." Thin strands of silk connected the distance from where the Drider had been and where he was now. Channeling the Changer aspect, Scipio made the weak silk strong and sharp, eight hair-thin strands of razor wire lying on the forest floor, all around the feet of the heartless man. Scipio pulled the threads tight.

In an instant the fibers became taught, slicing into the man's body like a folded belt snapping together. The strands buried themselves within his flesh, rending his arm off and nearly severing his entire torso in two. Still, he stood.

The man laughed heartily, unfazed by the normally fatal attack. No blood seeped from his wounds, and the color of flesh was nonexistent. Turning to the face Scipio, the man stretched his arms out as if to greet him with a hug, though one of them was missing.

"Quite fast! But all too inneffective," he chuckled. With ease, the man stepped to the side, sliding out from the entanglement of threads as if made of liquid. Slowly, his vacated wounds repaired themselves in a sludge of metallic liquid. "My turn."

With lightning speed, the man threw out his sword, somehow extending his arm to Scipio's distance without moving his own legs. The sword, his arm, and the armor around itself melded together in a mix of liquid sheen, wipping across the jungle in an arc. The tree trunks were cut into like butter, though were not fully severed from their bases.

"Not bad," Scipio admitted truthfully, standing just a foot to the man's left. If he hadn't been channeling the Rusher aspect, that might have been close. Scipio brought his left arm up, his hand held in a loose fist. As he swung, a white blade wove itself into existence in his grip: a rectangular butcher knife. The back edge was still forming as the sharp edge cut into the undying man's extended arm.

Scipio had already taken what he'd learned from his first attempt and adapted to the situation. Cutting the man, or whatever type of being he may be, was not enough; the wound would simply close. And so, the butcher knife, with a flat blade thicker than the man's arm. But after seeing the man's ability to close wounds, Scipio felt that it would not be unrealistic for the man to also be able to simply reattach a piece of himself even if is was completely separated from his body.

Which is why, the moment the sharp edge of the white knife passed through the limb completely, millions of white threads from the blade and also from the Scipio's other hand and the ends of his eight outstreched legs surged outward like waves, crashing together around and over the unnatural man's head and merging into a perfectly smooth sphere around where he stood. "But not good enough either," the silver-eyed Drider said to the white tomb. The severed stump of the unnaturally elongated arm hit the forest floor.

The metal, once a softish material, flopped to the ground with a slap, becoming instantly more liquid than solid. It looked a bit like mercury, though was colored too strangely to be such a simple metal.

The other four men took a step back as they saw their best so easily entrapped, still, they didn't seem to be so quick to flee. It couldn't have been impossible for them, right? Edith stood herself up with a grunt, clutching the tiny wound in her chest.

"What the hell man!?" she cried out, "You didn't even give me anything as a warning. Not even a look in the eye!" Despite being somewhat still stunned, she grasped the hilt of her sword knowing quite well that the danger hadn't fully subsided. Only a passing glance was given to Scipio's work. At that point, it wasn't all that surprising.

All four of the remaining soldiers dashed towards Scipio, and for all their original cowardice, they appeared skilled enough. Their bodies did not shake or falter, and their stances were synced, well-trained. They weren't simple peons.

Two swung their swords from opposite angles at Scipio with a yell while the other two circled around. One seemingly took notice of Edith and broke off, heading for her instead.

"Oh come now, you are perfectly unharmed. Would you prefer to still be the hostage? If so, there are five lovely gentlemen right here who would be happy to play to your strange fetish." Scipio stopped channeling the Rusher aspect as he saw that it was not needed against these enemies. The three Maker aspects would be more than enough.

Two ineffective blades bounced off of the Drider's protective cage of legs, but his legs were not merely for defensive purposes. Channeling the Seer aspect, he could feel each of the attackers' heartbeats inside their chests at such close distance. Scipio Wove a short cylinder in his hand and then rapidly added length to it from the center, causing the cylinder to extend rapidly in both directions into the shape of a long staff. The soldiers on either side of him were thrown back as the staff punched into their armored chests.

The Drider swung the staff to the side and some of the silk fell away, reshaping half of the staff's length into a viscious long sword. "Hey Edith, whoever takes out more of these guys doesn't have to pay for their next meal," he said. Since he was the one who already paid for most of the food she'd eaten in the last week, the seemingly fair wager was really just a jab at her being a mooch. He wanted to see if she could actually do anything.

"Guess we're even then!" she shouted back to Scipio. A quick glance back confirmed it; the man that had approached her was already upon the ground... in two different spots. She held nothing in her hands, the sword was still in its scabbard upon her back, and yet there the knight was, cleaved in two as fine as a sliced cheese laid upon a royal's cracker. The three knights surrounding Scipio did not let up. As soon as they regained their composure and the grips on their swords, they swung back in, this time with a tad more tact.

The knight to Scipio's right eyed his legs and threw his sword slowly, anticipating a block on his part. If he slowed it down enough, he could redirect the swing midway and avoid Scipio's legs. The other knight however offered a more brutish approach. With his forward leg he kicked out and Scipio's knee and drove the sword forward as a thrust, hoping the narrow blade could escape past anything Scipio threw at it.

The third knight prepared to swing upon Scipio but hesitated, he heard Edith approach from behind and turned to face her.

Scipio struck to the right, reaching out to grab the soldier's sword with his hand and pull it and its wielder towards him. The soldier fell to his own comrade's blade. Scipio didn't even bother looking behind him to make sure. The sound was enough. The second attacker's head rolled down its body's back and landed on the forest floor. The white long sword dissolved to threads and then to nothing. The drops of blood that had been on its edge fell to the ground. He turned and asked, "Hey Edith, you do-"

It was blindingly quick, too fast even for Scipio to truly consider what had transpired. Only a few brief flashes of steely silver and the final knight was dismembered at both arms. He fell to his knees with a scream, blood seeping from the open flesh. In seconds he succumbed to the pain alone and fell unconscious, soon to die from the unending blood loss. The blade was in its scabbard.

"Three to two, right?" she asked, looking over Scipio's handiwork. Edith growled and her tail twitched. "It'll be a cheap meal." The girl patted her hoodie's pockets, seemingly judging the amount of change still available without looking.

Scipio sighed. "Actually, it's two to two. The guy in the cocoon over there isn't dead. I honestly have no idea if I can kill him to tell you the truth. Cutting certainly doesn't seem to work." Edith turned to the cocoon, eyeing it for a second before approaching carelessly. Observing it, she walked around once then touched it lightly. With a grunt, she threw her weight into the side, and it rolled over just enough to reveal a hole in the bottom about the size of her torso. The ground beneath it was unmarked.

"Well that answers why he seemingly gave any care to your cocoon," Edith said, looking down at the ground. "I knew someone invulnerable to a blade wouldn't be held so easily."

Scipio raised an eyebrow. "Hm, how did that happen?" He turned and walked over to the tree he had climbed before the men had shown up. Once he got his bearings again, Scipio pointed in the direction he had seen the... whatever it was. He wasn't too sure, but it was the only place around. "Ready to go?"

Edith gave one last look at the hole before responding, "Yea, I suppose. Where are we going? What did you see?" Edith stepped up to Scipio's side, rubbing her shoulder tenderly. Moving the cocoon wasn't easy.

"When I climbed that tree, I saw something in the distance. I'm not sure what it is, but it was the only thing other than more trees that I could see." He stopped short. "Oh, I almost forgot." Scipio turned and spread his fingers, and a wave of white silk spread over the forest floor that had moments ago been a killing ground. The silk covered each of the bodies completely for a moment and then returned back to Scipio's hand, shaping into a fist-sized ball. He tucked the ball inside his jacket. "Okay, I don't think there's any reason to stick around here long. That uncuttable annoyance might return with backup. It's best we get moving."

"What did you just do?" Edith sounded astonished, as if Scipio's actions were questionable. It was magic of some sort, clearly, but the fact that he did it to some dead bodies made it seem a bit more sinister. If she was working with a necromancer... she might have had to split up.

"Nothing much. Merely searching the bodies. The dead very rarely need the useful things they take with them to the grave." He kept walking. Scipio could practically feel Edith leering at his back, even past the mask. Still, she said nothing more, and followed suit.

"If every rich guy could fight like you, our leadership could fight wars alone."

---

Scipio and Edith treked over countless roots and brushes, sweeping aside walls of vines in their faces and batting buzzing insects. The ground slowly elevated upwards, eventually becoming a rather steep climb using the vegetation as leverage. They had reached the mountain, but had yet to see any sort of civilization.

"Say, where did you ever learn to fight like that anyways?" Edith commented between grunts as she climbed upwards. "Never would have attributed to such skill... though it seems magic plays quite large part in it."

"No, I do not use magic," Scipio said, "And it was Kyarian who taught me everything I know. That I now have to search for him should tell you enough about whoever it was he was hunting. It would not be easy for someone to give him trouble." Scipio almost came out and said 'for someone to have killed him', but he stopped himself. He didn't know that for sure yet.

"So then you spider people just do that stuff naturally? Scary," Edith said, shaking her head, "If he was your tutor though, I can't imagine what kind of warrior he was. It's beyond me." There was hint of sarcasm in her voice, Scipio could tell, like she was aware of some skill matchup that shed light on Kyarian's abilities.

Scipio considered if he should enlighten his companion about Drider abilities but decided not to. If she wanted to think that his abilities were the standard, he would not say otherwise. Even next to Kyarian, Scipio was in a league of his own. No, other Drider weren't like him, but she could believe that if she wished. So he remained silent and just continued walking upwards. At one point the ground beneath his foot slipped and he was forced to catch himself with his spider legs. He wondered if it was difficult for Edith with her two arms and two legs to climb like this.

"I don't suppose I'll meet this guy?" she proposed. Edith reached for an arcing vine half-buried in the ground and yelped. The root was rotted, separated from its host body. It was only seemingly rooted to the ground, but as she pulled it, it was simply plucked from the earth, leaving Edith to faceplant into the dirt. She grumbled and brushed her mask as best as she could without looking upon it. The minou grabbed something else and continued hoisting herself up.

Scipio left the climbing for his eight spider legs as he flipped himself around to look at Edith. "Maybe, maybe not. It depends." He raised an eyebrow as the minou almost fell back down the hill. He wasn't about to offer her help though, not unless she asked. "So what led you believe that our target came to this particular Sphere?"

Edith remained silent, suddenly refraining from grunting either, though she still climbed just as vigorously. "A little bird told me," she responded.

Scipio almost smiled, almost. "Ah, a bird. I guess I should just trust your lead then. Birds do not speak lies, and they do not speak to those they cannot trust." Scipio looked at the eyes of the mask. "To hear a bird's voice is truly a special gift," he said somberly.

"Not as much as you'd think," she responded solemnly. The mountain flattened out, and Edith took the moment to rest on her back with a sigh. The trees still obscured whatever it was Scipio had first noticed, though the area seemed less dense with foliage. The rest of the way would be easier, presumably.

"How close are we?" she asked, huffing.

Scipio looked at the area around them. "I don't have the slightest clue," he said cheerfully. "Though I expect us to be quite close unless we somehow were turned about in the underbrush and we have somehow been walking in the completely wrong direction for the entirety of this trek." Just judging the distance from where he had first seen their destination in the tree to where it had been, they would likely walk right into it in another few hundred yards. Scipio's sense of direction wasn't bad enough to let a couple of trees turn him around.

"I hope not. Climbing this mountain for nothing? I would strangle you," she jested. Edith picked herself up from the brief rest and grunted, as if charging herself with energy. "Let's hope this is the right way. It was atop a mountain, right?" Luckily the rise seemed to have petered out at last, no longer a steep climb through underbrush. Eventually the trees had become sparse enough that Edith hesitated to step further; any more and they might risk detection. From what, though, she didn't really consider.

In the distance, it had become clear what Scipio saw; a short but wide fortress with smoothed and angled outer walls. Edith rested her fists on her hips.

"Is this it?" she asked. Edith stared for a tad before continuing, "You think it's occupied? Could be the base of those knights we slaughtered."

"I certainly hope it's occupied; it would be a complete waste to have come all the way here only to find a completely empty castle." He shook his head. "Truly, who would abandon a perfectly good castle? I suppose there is only one way to be certain though in this situation." Scipio strode forward towards the fortress. "Knock on the door and see if anyone answers."

Edith seemed poised to push Scipio aggressively, but she merely scoffed instead. "And ask for what? A warm bed and some chow?" Edith shifted her voice to that of mocking an older man. "Hey, what's with the blood little miss? You in danger?"

"No, I just massacred a squad of your men and wanted to take their beds!" she said normally. "They're empty now anyways, why not occupy them?" Edith scoffed again and followed Scipio. "I don't even know where a door is. It looks like one big wall of grey to me."

Indeed, it did seem like the fortress was lacking in entrances, at least from the angle they approached. Buildings within peeked out from behind the massive angled walls with few windows, but as far as they could discern, there was no way in besides scaling the wall.

Edith broke off from Scipio's path, wandering to the side with no warning. She approached a sword embedded in the ground, quite out of place and far too large for either one to carry with both hands. "What's this?" she questioned, shouting back to Scipio.

The massive blade stuck into the ground, seemingly halfway in but already taller than Edith. It displayed a brilliant sheen of silver and blue, seeming almost slick in certain areas.

Scipio looked at what it was that had stolen Edith's eye. It looked like a sword embedded in the ground. "I believe it is a sword embedded in the ground," he yelled over. "Do you plan on pulling it out?" Why she would pay any attention to a sword embedded in the ground if she didn't plan on giving it a tug was beyond him. Though judging from the workmanship of the blade and the fact that no one had already taken it, Scipio assumed trying to take it from its place would prove futile. That, and the fact that it was much to large for the tiny minou to possibly handle.

"Funny," Edith mumbled. She wouldn't lift it, surely, but it seemed quite peculiar several hundred yards from the fortress, clean as a whistle and big enough for a giant to be proud. Edith reached out to touch it, finding the surface quite smooth and cold.

Then it unwraveled, becoming a storm of metallic tendrils spinning about the blade. Edith was knocked high into the air with a grunt, and sent sliding along the wet ground to Scipio's side. Like a tornado, it spun and spun for a brief second. Converging together, the material shaped itself into a grotesque form.

It lacked legs, instead being stood up by a tapered torso that slagged to the earth like a heap of viscous slime. Its body was misshappen, made up of asymmetric structures. A ribcage on one side, scales on the other. Its arms were long, bulky in random areas as if the muscle had been scooped up and pushed into a single area.

At the top, it's head was sightless, though it seemed attentive enough. A grin made up of golden, thick teeth greeted them. Edith stood herself up slowly, struggling on occasion. She gripped her chest tenderly and coughed, spitting up a bit of blood in the process.

"Saved me a bit of hauling, you two. Now we're this much closer to the party," the metallic creature said with a vibrating, phlegm-filled voice. The creature brought its arms together, and both shaped themselves into blades. Like a cricket playing with is wings, the creature unleashed a deafening sound with its arms. The sky rang out, sending birds into the sky and undoubtedly revealing their location.

"Hopefully I don't embarrass myself and let the others take you down before I do."

Veyati - Chapter 2: Meatshield

Empty and unalive as the premises seemed to be, Iroas, Caslin, and Veyati approached the Belial home with caution and care, checking their very feet to ensure nothing loud was stepped upon. The wooden front porch was treaded on like assassins, with lightly pressed feet and hunched postures. Iroas approached the door first, and after confirming behind him with the other two that they were ready, handled the doorknob delicately and hesitated. With a deep but quiet breath, he turned it and opened the door with an unanticipated, obnoxious creak. Iroas eyes clenched as the noise continued throughout the entire opening, looking inside only as he had stopped the entrance.

His expression of worry changed instantly as he stared down the lobby room. He appeared stricken, with a calm terror.

At the end of the room, frozen in place, was a maid carrying nothing but a broom in her hand, held tightly at her chest. She too, stared back with terror, though was clearly more frightened than any three of them. She remained taught, a clear sweat forming on her face, eyes wide and pupils dilated. She said nothing, only stared, likely too gripped by fear to muster a breath. Caslin and Veyati peeked in from either side of the door frame, then glanced at the frozen Iroas. Their expressions were thankfully hidden behind their masks, but both were truly as startled as the other two. Then, she got an idea.

"Iroas," she said, tugging on his shoulder, "Is it customary to walk into other's homes without invitation here on Garude?" A white lie buried under genuine curiosity. Was it customary? Everyone on Garude so far, Iroas included, displayed very limited... etiquette. Veyati let her fingers slide off the door frame as she stepped in front, turning to the clearly terrified maid. "I... think you may have startled her."

Veyati squinted at her behind tinted lenses. There was nothing off about her. Just a mundane girl working for rather extraordinary people. Caslin seemed to get the same idea, as he let Veyati do the talking and stayed barely peeking out from behind the door frame.

Iroas looked back, examining their appearances as if to ensure she wasn't simply letting off a sarcastic quip in the midst of their failed infiltration. Straightening himself up, he appeared more composed and proper, rolling his shoulders as if to shake off the mode of shadiness.

"Ah, forgive me. No, Veyati, it is customary to knock. I was simply so exhausted from the walk, I wanted to rest myself and forgot to knock," he said, mostly to the maid. Though she was still tense, the maid appeared more inclined to speak. "I'm sorry, I am Sir Iroas of the Bulwark's army. I fully meant to knock, forgive my intrusion." Veyati winced at how awful and transparent that cover was, but it couldn't be helped.

"Is the head of the household home?" Iroas asked.

The maid shook her head slowly, focusing on Veyati and Caslin instead as she answered. "The master is not home."

"Might we rest here until he returns?" Iroas propositioned. The maid tensed up again, biting her lip. Caslin snorted and shook his head. Letting Iroas lead the conversation was a terrible idea.

"H-he won't be back for a-awhile. A few days!" she added, seemingly at a whim. Iroas turned to look at the other two, judging what they thought of the maid's words. There was a slow turn of Veyati's head to Iroas, then slowly back again to the maid, while Caslin kept his eyes on her. No expression, but as dubious a response as she could signal. The maid was scared, and sounded like she was lying about... something, but no one could tell why.

Veyati tried to appear and sound as amiable as possible, folding her hands in front to appear less threatening. Something terrified the girl, so she figured she might as well rule out herself. "Oh? Where has he gone?" She asked.

The maid opened her mouth to speak but failed. She tried once more, though gave a vague answer. "He's out... to visit a friend," the maid did not await for a response, seemingly gaining the courage to speak with more authority. She stomped towards the group, keeping her eyes averted. "I'm sorry, but I must have you leave. The master would not allow-" she reached for the door, conveying her wish for them to leave. Her arm was seized in an instant by Iroas, who turned it around her back. With his other hand he covered her mouth, earning him an instant struggle. Of course, she was much too small and weak compared to the older soldier to do much beyond groan.

With a nod of his head, he gestured for the two to enter and shut the door. Iroas' belligerence was turning out to be a liability, but neither could've predicted how quickly he'd opt to use force rather than savoir faire. Might as well flow with it. They nodded and headed in, Veyati gently closing the door behind them.

"Keep quiet," he told them before looking around the room, towards a set of stairs along the right-hand wall. Speaking to no one in particular, he rose his voice again. "Of course ma'am. We'll be on our way."

"Veyati, find me a cloth."

Veyati took a long step toward the maid, almost lunging forward and stopping with just a couple inches between their faces. She thoroughly scrutinized her expressions, her posture, her eye movements. "Not just yet," Veyati told him with a side glance, then turned back to the maid, uncomfortably close.

"I'd really like it if you cooperated," she told the maid, "I only partly understand your reluctance; why have you been lying to us?" She mumbled a few times under Iroas's hand, trying to turn away from Veyati's gaze.

"If I let go, she might yell," Iroas pointed out.

Veyati placed a silken gloved hand on the maid's cheek and tugged to face her forward again. A calm and level tone spoke from behind the mask that stared her down. "You don't have anything to gain from shouting, and I do not wish to hurt you, but I will not hesitate if you speak above a whisper. Do you understand?"

The maid's eyes searched Veyati's own through the mask, looking for the sense of safety in them. Somehow, it seemed she did. The maid nodded as best she could and glanced up at Iroas, who looked hesitant. However, with a sigh, he gave in. The maid covered her mouth upon being released and looked about.

"My m-master," she began to sweat, unable to properly convey what she needed, as if the words were plugged up by fear. The air felt tense. Wrong. It wasn't coming from inside the house, however. Caslin and Veyati exchanged a brief look with each other, but neither reached for their weapons. Yet.

"Your master?" Iroas gestured for her to continue.

"He... He is sleeping."

"Sleeping?" He repeated. The maid tightened her lips inward, clearly hesitating to reveal what the three had already guessed. "Sleeping where?"

"You're vampire hunters!" she exclaimed. Veyati almost rose her hand to swat the maid across the cheek, but Iroas already clamped his hand over her mouth. At the very least she confirmed it for them, though it seemed she was no longer willing to aid them calmly. Iroas attention was turned to the side stairwell, as a distinct creaking came from the top of it. Iroas let go of the maid's bound arm, allowing her to frantically attempt to free herself under his grip. With it, he reached for his sword, awaiting whatever it was to reveal itself.

Slowly, gracefully and with little appearance of fear, a young lady came down from the steps, speaking softly, "Mielle, is something wrong?" The question was curious rather than worried, seeming as if she was wondering what the commotion was rather than asking if the maid herself was okay under Iroas's clutches. Only once her head descended from the roofline did she catch on to what was transpiring. The young lady, clad in a grandiose black dress, looked down in astonishment at the intruders, her mouth covered by both hands as she gasped. Caslin tilted his head up at the stairs, and immediately his neck tensed up. Whoops. His eyes shifted between Iroas, the apparent offender, and the young woman.

The paleness of her skin and the crystalline blueness of her eyes revealed instantly what she was. Iroas let go of the maid recklessly, pushing with his quickly-turning body as he faced the vampiric figure. He practically shoved the poor girl into Veyati's arms as he faced the young lady. Awfully nice of the brute, Veyati thought, sneering at him behind her mask. Nothing seemed threatening about these people at all, as of yet. She glanced at Caslin it appeared he had the same idea.

"Who are you people, and what do you want? We have money. Just please, leave us alone. Are you with Stensen? We already told you, we don't want any part. Please!" the young woman shouted, keeping her distance at the top of the stairs. Iroas looked quizically up at her, then to Veyati, apparently confused. Veyati shrugged. Who the hell was Stensen?

Iroas couldn't have simply stated at that time they were just there to, 'speak with the master'. His man-handling of the maid wouldn't have worked well with such a claim. He was at a loss for words at the moment.

She looked down at Mielle, then to the young woman on the stairs, then sighed inwardly. Why did Iroas have to be such a pain? Squeezing her eyes shut, she concentrated on a solution to Iroas terrible manners that didn't involve throwing him to the wolves. Veyati gritted her teeth, but did what she could to salvage the situation.

"You're mistaken," she said, a little too quietly to be heard at first. Veyati let go of Mielle, stepped toward the stairs, and said it again, louder. "You're mistaken. We did not come here to hurt anyone or take anything."

Mielle clutched her wrist and back away, eyeing the space in between Veyati and the stairwell, as if she were ready to jump between them in sacrifice. The young lady gripped the siderail of the stairs and put a foot on the step above her.

"Then what do you want? What are you here for, coming in uninvited, harming my friend?" she questioned.

Veyati sighed and halted at the foot of the stairs, holding at least until the tension dissipated. "I take no responsibility for Iroas' brazen actions," she said, giving him a rather disappointed side glance, "But I have been led to believe that vampires are to blame for the attacks on my caravan; if I thought I could so easily receive answers and solace by knocking on the front door of someone who may be behind this chaos in Garude, I would've, but I was not willing to take the chance after I and my friends were attacked."

She appeared awe-struck, as if Veyati's explanation were either insane or wondrous, though by the way she started to relax her posture it seemed as though she was satisfied with it. "Vampires? I'm sorry, but we are not those vampires. When were you attacked?" The woman asked sincerely. The atmosphere lost tension, though neither Mielle nor the woman appeared ready to simply offer them tea and a seat.

"Two days ago," Iroas answered, "and we believe the Cain's were behind it-"

"Then why intrude here?!" the woman interjected, furious. Good point. Caslin stiffled a snicker. This fiasco was bordering on comical. Iroas just smiled, trying to ward off the embarassment, "I have been under the assumption that most if not all vampires are associate with one another in some manner. Why the Cain's attacked us is not known, but it was peculiar. We could not simply speak to them, as you must understand." Iroas looked back to gesture towards the other two.

"And so we felt it would be best to speak with someone else." He refrained from saying overtly that they originally planned to sneak into the home and interrogate them. In the end though, they had the upper hand here, being the ones with weapons. Might they have knocked courteously and asked for a word, they could have been denied, possibly even with an alarm. They went in with little knowledge and a host of paranoia; Iroas concluded the plan was sound, and they were in the right, ultimately. Veyati thought he was ridiculous and a terrible diplomant.

"I apologize for all of this, but we had reason to be cautious, as you can see," he said.

"The Cains? Surely," the woman said cryptically. With a glance at Mielle, she gave a stern command, "Please prepare some tea for our guests." The maid appeared unenthusiastic, surely because of her prior treatment by said guests, though she walked off into a hallway silently.

Caslin sighed in relief and relaxed. Crisis averted. He gave Iroas a sidelong glance, or at least tried to, but his smiling mask reflected his amusement.

Veyati stayed at the foot of the stairs, putting the pieces together. These people were either following some sort of elaborate ruse to trick them, or they were never the threat and... not all vampires were inherently scheming monsters. Quite the revelation.

"Not on good terms with the Cain's?" she asked.

The woman began to walk down the stairs as soon as Iroas sheathed his sword and bowed his head, seemingly apologetic. "Lord Cain was a man I respected, but he shifted in recent years. He has become quite frantic, paranoid. He wants to live, you see-" the woman paused at the bottom of the stairs, eyes wide as she faced each one of the trio in turn. Falling silent she mumbled a few things in dismissal, and hurried into the room next to the lobby. "N-never mind. Please follow me to the lounge." Iroas glanced at the other two before following just behind. Caslin shrugged, and they both followed without a word. There was more than enough time for questions.

The lounge was lavishly furnished, most of the cushions sporting a frilly piece underneath them, hanging over the space beneath the furniture. Iroas looked over it with a sort of distaste, but seated himself quickly anyways, eager to lie on something meant for human relaxation... never mind the fact that a vampire owned it. Caslin and Veyati gave barely a second glance before seating themselves, both still very confused at how their morning had twisted and turned, but at least it was for better rather than worse. So far. Veyati mused about a scenario where the master of the house would revive the already resolved misunderstanding. Hopefully, that wouldn't happen. They seemed amiable enough, if still a little dubious toward Iroas. He did have a terrible habit of appearing threatening, however.

"Are you the head of the household, ma'am?" Iroas asked. The woman nodded after sitting down, pressing her dress in such a manner that it didn't appear messy when seated. Veyati smiled and folded her hands in her lap as she settled in, relieved. That immediately eliminated the chance of a blood bath happening from an egregious misunderstanding, thank goodness. The young woman conducted herself with elegance, but not arrogance-- almost the opposite of Auriga.

"I, along with my brother. He is asleep upstairs," she said, "My name is Lisil Belial."

"Iroas," the soldier introduced. Lisil turned to Veyati and Caslin, appearing eager to learn of their names as well.

Veyati introduced the both of them. "Veyati Cresna," she said, giving a short bow to Lisil, then gestured to her friend, "And this is Caslin Stygal."

"It's a pleasure, miss," Caslin said, giving her a short bow as well, "Though truly we apologize for the misunderstanding. Many of our interactions here on Garude have gone rather... strangely."

Lisil smiled warmly, somehow managing to turn her otherwise pale face into a ray of sunshine, "I can imagine," she said, smiling, "Garude is not a friendly place. I would direct my apologies to Mielle, honestly. She recieved the... brunt of this interaction." Lisil glanced in Iroas direction, who was busy surveying the rich room.

Caslin turned his head down and cleared his throat to try getting his attention. "Iroas?"

"Of course," he replied, turning back to the conversation, "I presume she is still preparing tea?" Lisil nodded and turned to an open door in the back of the room as if to see if Mielle was already underway returning.

"So," Lisil began, "do you have any clue why the Cain's targeted you specifically?"

Veyati's gaze drifted off as she thought back to her first conversation with Auriga. The expression she gave when Veyati mentioned 'uncovering secrets'. The two that led her to the party in the first place. Nothing seemed like it fit perfectly together, but Auriga seemed to be the culprit. She waved her hand over her mask and chuckled. "Well," she said, "Our refusal to reveal our identities and origins seemed to infuriate Lady Auriga, and she seemed rather... hostile, perhaps, with her line of questioning? None too impressed with my curiosity, like she had something to hide that she thought I was after."

"And she certainly does," Lisil confirmed, matter-of-factly. Clinking porcelain signaled Mielle's approach, carrying a tray of small white cups filled with steaming tea. Respectfully, she put down a cup and tea-plate before all four of them. With a bow she retreated back to the same room. Iroas picked up his tea apathetically, sipping it lightly. The other two left their tea alone completely, unwilling to remove their masks, but listened intently.

"Explain. What did you mean when you said Cain wanted to live?" Iroas said. Lisil had begun to pick up her tea when Iroas asked, and hearing it, suddenly dropped her cup, spilling tea over the carpet with a clang as it hit the plate. Mielle rushed in instinctively, hurrying to pick up the mess even as Lisil tried to dismiss her from helping.

"I-I was mistaken. Never mind that, it is too difficult to explain," she hurriedly said, brushing her dress of remaining liquid. Iroas raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

There was uncomfortable silence for several moments. Veyati spent them absently looking around the room, trying to piece together more of the puzzle. "Something disturbs you about the subject," she pointed out, "And with the use of necromancy involved in the attack on my friends... I can't help but think it is related."

Lisil clasped her hands together, and after a moment of contemplation clenched them even harder, trying to resist a certain thought. She looked up at Mielle with worried eyes, and the maid responded with a question of worry herself. "Is something wrong, my lady?"

"If you could, Mielle, please leave us alone for a bit. I would like to speak with them in private," Lisil asked. Mielle looked over at the trio, hesitant, but nodded and left, shutting the door behind her. Lisil looked at the door for a few seconds, listening, before turning back. She adjusted herself in the chair and leaned forward.

"I take no pleasure in revealing this to ones uninvolved with everything that is happening here on Garude. Or in the entirety of Aurora for that matter. It is not something that would do well with the vast majority of the populace." Taking a deep breath, Lisil continued. "By telling you this, you must not relay it to anyone else. Ever. However, I think you deserve answers as to why you were attacked. I do not think you would simply forget it all and leave it be unless you knew."

"What is it Lady Lisil?" Iroas impatiently asked, himself leaning forward. Once again, she stopped herself, waiting.

"Cain wishes to live. To live past the end that is to come. I believe he, or rather, Lady Auriga attacked you out of fear that their projects might be looked into. Being so novel here, and displaying the curiosity you detailed, she must have looked to you as spies from outside Bulwark."

"I don't understand. The end? What projects?" Iroas questioned.

"Please, you must promise me you will not tell this to anyone else," Lisil stressed. Iroas nodded.

Veyati's hands were closed over her knees, grasping handfuls of her robes. Was he really using necromancy to avoid his own end? She couldn't tell, but... what about acting on that information? She bit the inside of her cheek, unsure, but nodded anyway.

Lisil appeared distressed at continuing, as if every word brought her closer to certain doom. "Projects, to find a way to live past... To live past the end of the world." Iroas seemed apathetic to such words, waving them off as silly myth. Caslin and Veyati noted the seriousness in her voice, however, and listened closely.

"The end of the world? I would hardly call a lack of children the end of the world. Are you not immortal? You do not worry about having children to carry your name," Iroas commented.

"You do not understand Iroas," Lisil stressed, "I am not talking of the Silence. I am talking about the eradication of all life from Aurora. The end of everything, not just childbirth and a dwindling population. Cain wishes to survive this event."

"This seems silly. Who told you about this?"

"Cain himself. He has gathered many to his side to aid in the project's progress, including those he wishes to live alongside him."

"And I presume you did not opt in for life, then?" Iroas asked, crossing his arms. Lisil shook her head and glared.

"I have lived for many, many years. If my time is to come, so be it. Mostly, however, I do not support his methods. He is cruel, and to live on using the lives of countless others... I cannot stand for that," Lisil explained.

Veyati's mask hid her look of pure disgust. "What do you mean by his methods?" She asked. Her voice didn't so easily hide her feelings.

"Garude is known for countless disappearances. It is no coincidence that he chose this place to carry out the experiments alongside Stensen. The use of living souls to protect one's own. He is sacrificing countless people to fuel the project's goals."

"What does he plan to do?" Iroas asked.

"He plans to turn their souls into a shield. A shield that will protect him and his chosen companions from the end," Lisil continued, "They know it is coming, unlike the majority of the world. I can only imagine who is orchestrating this is deep within the Empire itself. Stensen of Sabaton, and Cain of Garude, both powerful, well-known individuals of the country."

Iroas remained stunned, silent, contemplating the insane darkness that was undulating underneath the Sphere's very nose. Aurora's nose in fact. How they could possibly know about an 'end of the world' was unknown, and in the end he still believed it little. It seemed too far-fetched.

A knock on the door gathered everyone's attention. The front door. Another knock and Mielle entered the room slowly, wary of interrupting them while Lisil still wished to speak in private. When her master gestured towards the door, however, she hurried to it and opened the door. Veyati narrowed her eyes at the door. Who would have arrived so shortly after them? Her brother was asleep within the manor, Mielle was here. It had barely been fifteen minutes. Wait. There was that aura. Something felt wrong in the air. Veyati jumped from her seat and reached out to the maid, calling out to her.

"Mielle, wait-!"

She stopped short, frozen in place, hand still reaching forward.

A metal blade appeared from behind the opened door, followed by a splash of blood. Mielle was impaled through the chest by a sword whose owner remained hidden behind the entreeway. Tilting it upwards, Mielle slid with a sickening slick off and crumpled to the floor. Immediately, Iroas, Caslin, and Lisil jumped from their seats, the soldier's weapon already unsheathed and pointed towards the entrance. Lisil broke into tears, though withheld a scream.

Heavy boots stepped out from behind the door, and two other pairs followed suit. Behind the foremost individual, two warriors clad in black armor held swords at the ready, faces obscured by metal visors. At their helm, a tall, formidable woman stood with arms crossed behind her back. Her eyes, face, hair, were all gray making her seem a lot older than she truly was upon looking more deeply. Most notable, however, was her mask; a metallic, strange object wrapped around her mouth and nose, with a tube extending from its chin below her trench coat.

Her breath was heavy, mechanical, and infrequent. They could hear it emanating from underneath the respirator, a sickly, pitiful breath. She looked over the four slowly, landing her eyes on Lisil.

"Guests I wasn't expecting, Miss Lisil," she mumbled underneath the mask.

"You monster! You killed her!" Lisil cried out. The woman didn't even flinch to look back over Mielle's body as she casually stepped over it.

"She only had a year anyway," she said dismissively, regarding the choking soon-to-be-corpse with a brief sideglance, "What would she have spent it doing? Serving you, what-- tea?" the woman said, looking at the cups and plates on the table. "You didn't even tell her she had a year. You wasted her time." Iroas edged forward slightly, and the woman turned her attention to him.

"Ah ah ah, Mr. Iroas. I came prepared. Put that sword away."

"Right," he said sarcastically, "Or what?" The womans' cheek bones lifted, she was smiling underneath the respirator.

"Your home in Majesty was lovely to visit. Not personally of course. Really I speak for the men I sent there. A great view of the palace from what?" she turned to the soldiers behind her, "The fifth floor of the complex? Is that right?" Iroas became awestruck, and the grip on his sword loosened.

"H-how," he mumbled to himself.

She turned to Veyati next. "I suppose I should have expected you here. Auriga was right in worrying about you after all."

Veyati's face twisted in anger for Mielle's sudden fall. She stood, back straight, fists clenched and arms at her side, trying to hold her composure. "Right in worrying about me?" She said, boldly standing her ground, "Auriga instigated this. She attacked people that had nothing to do with her!"

"Hm, yes. Right. I suppose the same holds true for you too in the end. I wouldn't worry about all of this. You only have a year as well. Lisil however, has much shorter time." The woman snapped her gloved fingers, and the two soldiers motioned towards Lisil. Iroas once again motioned himself towards retaliation, and the soldiers stopped.

"Iroas. When I say that I had men visit your home, I meant they visited your family too," she said. From her coat pocket, she retrieved a small slip of paper with obscure symbols on it. "I can notify my men that you didn't cooperate."

"Damn you! You're lying!" Iroas shouted.

"You will never be 100% sure, and I believe that anything less will be insufficient for action on your part. Am I wrong?" He didn't budge. He didn't speak. That was all she needed.

"What do you want with me? I don't want to have anything to do with this madness, Stensen!" Lisil screamed.

"Lord Cain gave up on withholding his rage for your betrayal. If you will not stand at his side, you will stand before him when death comes. You will be... his meatshield, though that seems a bit less graceful than what it will truly be," the woman stated, "Now if you'll come with me calmly, we won't have to kill anyone else." Lisil glared, hands clenched into crushing fists so tight her nails nearly pierced skin. She did not want her guests to become casualties for her sake, new and unfamiliar as they were to her, but the thought of surrendering her own life was just as distasteful.

She took a single step forward, but stopped there. It wouldn't be so easy giving up, and it seemed the woman knew this; she displayed little impatience, arms folded at her back and eyes wandering. It was as if she knew clearly Lisil would need some time to debate with herself, and allowed her to do so.

Veyati retreated, shuffling back closer to the others. Her eyes remained focused on their assailants, shifting between them and her newfound allies. Caslin waited on Veyati's action. Lisil probably couldn't fight them. Iroas wasn't sure if Stensen was bluffing. She gritted her teeth. What the hell did it matter? They all had a year. Stensen was giving them the luxury of time to decide, so Veyati waited anxiously on Lisil's decision. Lisil had lived many, and by her decisions in this last one, she had made an enemy for herself. A powerful one. The End itself was unfair, unavoidable, and this situation too seemed just as unfortunate. What difference was there then? Her anger subsided. Lisil relaxed her fists and took in a deep breath.

"I'll go," she stated dully, head bowed. She walked towards the woman slowly, head still turned towards the floor in defeat. A blue robed arm swung out in front of her path, stopping her. Veyati gave Lisil a look over her shoulder. It was hard to tell through the mask, but her swift yet stern action spoke of stubborness. Tenacity. No words at first-- just a shake of her head. Caslin started to catch on to what was happening and dug his heels in as well. Lisil stopped, turning her head up to meet Veyati's obscured eyes. She looked unsure, as if scrying Veyati's mind for a guarantee. Iroas didn't budge from his position, but he seemingly caught on too, noticing Veyati and Caslin's shift.

"Why not let her make the decision?" the woman asked, offering a hand to Lisil, beckoning her closer.

Veyati took in a deep breath, then exhaled. Her voice came out surprisingly calm, but a deep-seated rage was hidden just beneath the surface. "Even a day spent allowing an aberration like you to further their plans would be outrageous."

"Someone has to live. Not another millennia must the world remain in obliviousness," she stated harshly, "It is no aberration to desire life and knowledge where the gods would take it from you for selfish reasons."

"Bullshit!" she snarled, "I know only of gods that give life and knowledge, while you twist it for your own perverted desires, harvesting souls so you can cheat the inevitable end is selfish in itself." Veyati stamped her foot down and began removing her gloves, discarding them on the floor. She stood firm, making a challenge to Stensen and her minions. Caslin took that as a cue to prepare and did the same.

Veyati's pale hands clenched into fists, then opened up as she settled in her defiant stance again. "We have a year, and an empty year it would be if anyone allowed you to succeed!"

She shook her head and raised her shoulders, "Then I am afraid we think in vastly different ways." The woman snapped her fingers and the two soldiers began their approach. "I'm afraid I won't be able to use the failsafe after all, Iroas. There's no need to kill your family in order to maintain your obedience if you're about to die anyway."

There was a moment of uncomfortable stillness as both sides stared each other down, guaging their opponents' strength. Caslin looked to Veyati for a cue. He received a slow nod, and then the black-armored men began to march forward, swords in hand and ready to fight.

Iroas moved from his locked stance, charging towards one of them in anticipation that Veyati and Caslin would aid him. With a yell, he swung his sword upwards towards the rightmost soldier's arm. The soldier blocked his strike with both hands clasping their own sword. Both warriors did combat with one another, seemingly matched in strength and skill as their longswords clashed over and over, both of them stepping back and forth in the lounge room. There was a sudden flash of metal from Veyati and Caslin. Both drew their daggers in perfect unison as they dashed into the fray. As they charged, their masks seemed to take on meaning. Caslin's mask seemed to portray a smiling devil with the markings imprinted upon it, while Veyati's bore a face of emotionless focus.

"Wake your brother!" Veyati shouted, running to Iroas' aid. Lisil nodded and backed away to the kitchen door, her body still facing towards the action until she disappeared. The second soldier walked past his comrade, letting him engage Iroas on his own. The black knight thrust his sword at Caslin in an upwards fashion, attempting to stick him right in the chest. It was slower than expected, as if he were testing the man's capabilities before fully committing to the blow. Slow enough to read the tell from a mile away. Caslin grunted and dropped to a slide, feet first. Caslin was watched vigilantly, and the man followed his move downwards. He brought his sword downwards to his lower body, held in two hands to prepare for Caslin's assault. With his left foot, he slid aside and raised his sword upwards, readying to drop it down upon Caslin's belly. Caslin's momentum continued carrying him across the floor and away from the knight. Just an inch from his skull, the blade clanged against the floorboards, splitting the wood along its length. The knight wrenched it back and faced Caslin, prepared for another exchange.

Iroas lifted the other knight's blade with his own in a large arc, though threw a fist instead of another swing of his sword. His gauntlet impacted the knight's chestplate, knocking him back a foot for Iroas to gain his composure. That was her cue. Veyati slid the blade of her knife across her open palm as she rushed past Iroas' side to follow up against the staggered knight. "Ixu!" she shouted, thrusting her bloodied palm at the knight's side. A low boom resonated through the room as a ripple of invisible force instantly forced the knight aside, the metal of his chestplate caving slightly. He fell several feet to the side with a grunt and Iroas took no pause seizing the opportunity Veyati had created by assaulting the fallen knight. Iroas lunged at the knight with a slide, sword readied to swing around from behind. He brought the sword around with a twist of his hips, held low at the knight's face-level. Already staggered, the knight raised his guard, but Iroas' furious assault punched through his defense and sent him further away. He landed with a clunk of his armor plating and clang of his sword slapping the wooden floor, sprawled out and open for attack.

Out from Iroas' side, a blur of blue almost silently leapt past him and pounced on top of the prone knight, dagger poised to strike. The sword was much too heavy to bring about in time, and so the knight simply covered his most vulnerable parts from whatever it was this woman held. He raised his arms before his face, shielding his eyes from being stabbed right through. The sound of metal tearing through metal and flesh came as all eight inches of Veyati's blade found itself through the knight's right palm instead. The knight yelled out in pain, and his hand instinctively clenched, fingers clamping down on Veyati's hand. The man was hardened enough to continue fighting. Veyati growled at him from behind her mask, trying to force the blade down through his helmet, but the knight managed to yank it aside and let the blade stick into the floor. She shot a look at her knife, then back to the knight. Confusion could still be felt through the mask's neutral expression, if only for a split second before a sucker punch from the side quickly followed up.

There was a loud yelp as Veyati's head swung to the side, broken shards of her shattered mask scattering across the floor. When she turned back to the knight, she flipped her hood back, revealing her youthful face. Her skin was nearly white as her mask, and her silver hair fell free now, no longer held by her hood or mask. With her hand held over the bruise, covering part of her face, she appeared human. When her arm swung out to parry the next punch, that perception changed immediately. Veyati lowered herself below the arc of the punch, and the anger the mask was hiding was finally revealed. Muddy purple eyes stared angrily back at the knight, sharp vampiric fangs were bared, and the muddy purple blood dripping from the cut on her pale face became much, much more apparent.

Her free hand slipped under and grabbed the knight's helmet, pulling it open to reveal the face of her opponent. Startled eyes met with her own as the knights protection was lifted, and the knight became frantic. With his free arm, he grabbed her hand that still held the dagger and pulled it to the other side of his chest, twisting her arm into a painful position. She refused to let him without a fight, pushing against him the whole way, but winced as her arm started to bend awkardly. Veyati grunted through the pain and held her ground. Then, she pulled back her other arm, opened her palm, and thrust it down at the knight's face with a shout.

"Ixu!" Her words of power were met with a gruesome explosion of flesh, bone, blood, and brain matter. The knight's helmet was immediately turned to a container of pink and red slush. Veyati flinched as a shower of the gore spouted upwards into her face. His body went limp instantly, and Veyati stepped away from her fallen opponent.

"Shit," Iroas muttered, his sword tip tapping upon the ground, as if he simply gave up fighting at that moment. He turned to Caslin's battle instead, quite sure Veyati had taken care of the knight almost too well. Caslin's opponent faired as well against him, slumped against a wall and futily clawing at a neck wound that was gouting blood, while Caslin appeared unscathed.

Both knights were vanquished, leaving Iroas, Veyati, and Caslin in the presence only of Stensen, who seemed entirely unfazed by the loss of her peons. She rocked twice on the balls of her feet and heels and gave a quick gesture with her chin to the floor.

"Unfortunate. Unfortunate that they were ordinary. Two less souls we have to promise life, I suppose," she said half to herself, "I hope Vane's scuffle is going better."

Veyati narrowed her eyes at Stensen. Vane? She almost cursed aloud, instead huffing in anger. Stensen was just trying to keep them busy... they were after Lisil and her brother; Caslin, Veyati, and Iroas were just a bunch of annoying investigators to them, not nearly as important as Lisil's soul. Veyati stayed frozen for a few seconds, then bolted off and up the stairs without another word. Caslin watched her leave and took that as a cue to lope over to Iroas' side and hold their ground against Stensen.

Even as Veyati dashed past Stensen, she made no motion to stop her, arms still folded at her back. In fact, she stepped aside so as to grant her extra room. She thought of tripping her, but that would have killed the atmosphere.

Iroas lifted his sword upon his shoulder, seemingly uninclined to attack Stensen given her apparently pacifistic behavior. She gave a sidelong glance at the stairwell after Veyati ascended, then to a few other areas in the home before rolling on her feet again. Stensen brought her arms forward and clapped them before rubbing them together.

"Well then, I suppose I've failed down here. I take it you'll care for the bodies?" she lifted up on her toes and stared into the mask of the knight whose face detonated, eyebrows raised in what appeared to be amazement. "I'll leave it to you, and take my leave." Stensen gestured to the door with her thumb and turned to leave, keeping an eye on the two men watching until she made it to the exit.

Iroas walked to the lounge's bay window seat, moving aside a curtain to look outside. Stensen had simply left, walking down the home's gravel road without a single glance back. Iroas turned back to Caslin and shrugged.

"I suppose some people just really know when to quit," he said.

---

At the top of the stairs, a hallway split into two directions, each with three doors to them. Only one was open, and she could distinguish shuffling from inside it. She rushed to the door, her approach soundless thanks to the spell cast earlier. Inside, she realized exactly what Stensen had stalled for.

Another knight turned to face her from within, a body held in each arm. One of them was Lisil, she could see, and the other was presumably her brother. They seemed unharmed save for their unconscious state. The knight stared silently at Veyati, though he didn't seem surprised by her appearance, more so simply waiting.

He was not like the others, a full two heads in height above Veyati and donned in an armor similar in color to the others but entirely more intricate, appearing more like a skeleton of metal had encaged his body. Streaks of red color marked some of the ribs beneath the outer set, and the fingers of his gauntlets appeared sharp, animal-like.

"Morning," he greeted her. Veyati blinked, shifted her gaze to Lisil and her brother, and then back to the knight. She wiped some of the blood and sinews away from her mouth.

"Vane, I presume."

"That is my name, yes," Vane jerked both of his arms up in tandem, repositioning Lisil and the brother.

"You're not leaving here with both of them." She said. No threatening posture. Just a statement, "And none of this is going to save anyone from whatever end is coming."

The knight bent his head back and looked to the side, clearly bored with her claim. He reshifted the bodies again. "I don't think you really understand any of this. Not enough if you believe that," he said with a tone of warning. "No one would be mad enough to try this if they weren't a hundred percent sure it would work. I trust Stensen's work and Schiezen's word. And if they're wrong in the end, and we truly have a year left..." Vane rolled his head side to side, "Then I trust their money even more."

Vane turned away from Veyati, facing another wall in the room. "I will be going now," he claimed.

Veyati drew her blood-buttered knife and took a stance. "No," She said firmly, "You're going to leave them, then you will be going."

"Ha. I'd be inclined to teach you a lesson, put you in your place. But these people are very heavy, and I'm growing tired. Picking them up was a hassle, and I'd rather not have to do it again if I can avoid it." Vane seemed poised to leave in some fashion, like waiting for an elevator to come. He spoke up one final time, however.

"How about this. You want these two," he rose each in tandem, "and I want to make sure my final days aren't spent doing petty things, like relaxing. I want things to be interesting and volatile. Chaotic. We play a game. I give you a lead, and if you can follow it, find me that is, then we fight. That seems to be what you're intent on doing. I'll personally hand these two to you on my knees if you win."

Veyati's eyes shifted about the three, contemplating her options. Vane wasn't even her main target, but this sounded promising. If she won, Vane fell, Lisil and her brother would be safe, and that would be a thorn right in Cain's side. Her posture relaxed as she lowered the dagger. A nod was all she gave him.

"Good," Vane nodded in approval, "Stensen is conducting her research within the Cain's grounds. The castle itself is hidden by a spell that I highly doubt you'll ever be able to locate on your own. This Sphere isn't a small place, you know. So here's what I propose: look for someone who knows everything on the Sphere, inside and out. There is only one, and I mean it when I say everything. He can show you where the castle is, invisible or not. There's your lead. I honestly hope to see you soon." The knight gave a nod in farewell to Veyati and tightened his arms around the bodies.

Then, he fell into shadows. Vane literally disappeared through the floor, descending into a puddle of darkness just beneath his feet. As soon as his head passed through, the shadow closed on itself in silence. Footsteps sounded from behind Veyati, and she turned to find Iroas beneath the door.

"Find them?" he asked her. Veyati wiped a little more viscera from her face, then shook her head.

"No," she said, "But we're going to."

---

End of Chapter Two

Alexandra Chapter 1: Hall of Silent Marble

The interior was vast, dim, white. Alexandra had heard of the Crypt before, but it was often described as much less pleasant than what faced her. Possibly the reason it was more heavily guarded, then. Pillars reached up to a curved ceiling like some chapel well over five stories high. The place was like a hallway, with a few small doors here and there leading to gods know what other underground location.

At the end, a golden door of ornate design stood shut. Somehow, the entirety of the caravan fit into the room, though it was only the people involved this time; the boxes, horses, carriages and tents all remained above the surface. Still, a number of individuals slung packed bags over their shoulders.

Anorm stood at the helm and turned to face the crowd. He cleared his throat and commanded attention with his voice.

"This is the first room of what is to be a long path. It will get very cold the lower we go, save your coats for then. I want everyone to remain attentive no matter what happens, The faster any one of you can do your job at my request, the sooner we’ll be out of here. If you see something strange, let your comrades know, then let me know. Don’t touch anything unless I say so." There was chatter among the audience as rumors of what was to come sifted through.

"We are looking to enter the bottommost chamber of the Blades Crypt, accessible only through this door. There we will find and retrieve a document long kept there, and return it to the King. Save your questions," Anorm put out a palm as if to stop them, "Use common sense and better judgement. At that, we proceed." Anorm turned towards the door at the end of the massive room and the gathering followed suit.

Anorm stopped at the foot of the door and gazed up at it for a moment, looking over its weaving golden designs. Before him, a small nook in the wall rested. It was circular in shape and no bigger than his palm. He retrieved something unseen from his sleeve and placed it in the slot, and at once the golden doors began to open slowly.

As soon as it was wide enough to fit through, Anorm walked past it. More followed suit, the flow growing larger as the doors opened fully. The hallway beyond was less tall, but just as grandiose. Alexandra could not see the end of it, as if it were infinitely long. Runes printed on the walls illuminated the path, casting an aqua-colored glow upon the white floors.

For a time, as they walked down its length, the walls appeared smooth and without markings. In an instant, however, they began to line themselves along the walls, each one bearing a different character of some unknown language. Anorm stopped, and the rest halted behind him.

He clicked his fingers and an already attentive individual shuffled to his side, a book in hand. The man hastily sifted through the papers, looking up and down between the pages and the symbol on a pillar they stood before. They whispered to one another before Anorm turned to the audience.

"I need a miner!" he shouted. The crowd looked amidst one another while someone in the back rose his hand and coursed through the gathering to the front.

"Yes?" he asked. Anorm gestured to the pillar and put a hand on the miner’s shoulder.

"You’re up. Instructions will be clear inside," Anorm stated before abruptly pushing the man towards the pillar. In a flash of blue light, the man disappeared, completely gone. The symbol upon the pillar turned a golden color, and the hallway hummed briefly.

Everyone was overcome with an astonished gasp. Many backed away, but most simply stared in surprise. Others seemed even more eager than before. Anorm turned to the crowd and crossed his arms.

"Quiet down, quiet down!" he commanded, "As you can all see, this is no ordinary hall. Each of these pillars is a portal and a lock at the same time, and each of you is a key. Beyond them are trials, which if completed, unlock the door of this room."

"There is no end to this place! What door?!" someone yelled out.
"The door will not appear until we have completed 100 tasks. Then the door will appear to us, and we can proceed," Anorm explained. "If you fail, you will appear in this hallway once more, and we will have to substitute your failure with another task that someone else might hopefully complete."

"So that’s why you needed so many different professions? To maximize the probability that we will complete 100 tasks? What are these tasks?" another asked.

"They vary. The symbols before us explain what lies beyond." The crowd discussed with one another, seemingly satisfied with the explanation. Still, many were reluctant to simply fall into a portal and find themselves alone in some place they couldn’t even see.

Alexandra smiled, things were clear now. She hiked up the bag on her shoulder and turned to face a pillar. After briefly considering how much of a pain that this was, she stepped forward and reached out a hand. It was gripped mid way by another; Anorm held her wrist in his own hand, looking quite stern.

"This one isn’t your task, lass," he warned, "Unless you think yourself an intelligible miner, knowledgeable of rocks and land and such." He let go. "We’ll find your task soon enough. Until then, sit tight." The leader beckoned for his translating fellow to follow, and the next pillar was approached and summarily understood.

Cooks. Librarians. Farmers. Animal husbandry. Generals. Performers. Thieves. Murderers. The hallway seemingly never ended in its display of professions and talents, and so far it seemed as if Anorm had properly recruited the right number. Not a single task was walked by, and the one-hundred task gauntlet became less and less daunting.

"Chemist," Alexandra could hear Anorm mutter, staring at another symbol on the next pillar.

She smiled, finally getting the chance to prove her worth on this expedition. She half wondered if her bag had even been necessary, if the task would have everything needed provided. Stepping towards the pillar without the slightest hesitation, she swept her cloak out of the way and reached out to touch it.

The pillar appeared as if to stretch out to the sides of her vision, warped around it like a white blanket of stone. The symbol glowed even more fiercely before twisting around itself. Everyone around her vanished, as she had been transported into some strange shifting hallway. Then, with a distinct whooshing sound, Alexandra found herself elsewhere.

It was a relatively large room, with a domed ceiling curving above. Despite being isolated, Alexandra could hear a sort of howling wind in the room, from where she could not deduce. The walls were smooth, while the floors were patterned with hexagonal tiles. It was otherwise empty.

The howling wind stopped, and all was quiet for a brief second.

Challenger. This is the Cauldron Hall. Complete the task, and further your advance towards the Inner Sanctum. A neutral voice called out from everywhere at once.

Suddenly, Alexandra felt an unbearable, sharp pain in her lower leg. It had been pierced by a golden rod, seemingly from nowhere. Before she could attempt to pull it from herself, the rod disintegrated into dust, leaving an open hole to bleed profusely.

The hexagonal panels below and around her lifted upwards, revealing scores of shelves within that bore countless materials with labels upon them. All were printed in clear English.

Construct a potion of healing and live to complete the task. Failure will result in death.

Alexandra bit back a cry of pain, instead letting out a very brief laugh. It could have been poison, in fact she’d almost expected it. A dozen and more concoctions flashed through her mind. After a moment of standing still to ensure that her leg would bear her weight, she limped over to the shelves to take stock. A moment of reading labels told her that it would take far too long to find anything and she sat on the ground, one leg out in front of her. Pulling her knife from the back of her belt, she cut a long strip from her cloak and bound the wound, slowing but not entirely stopping the bleeding.

Even with such a short time not bearing her weight, the leg had stiffened painfully, requiring Alexandra to use the shelves to regain her feet. Satisfied that she would be able to finish something before she had lost too much blood, Alexandra picked a recipe that would serve her goal while requiring the shortest preparation time.

She began to grab ingredients from the shelves, glancing at the labels before double checking that they were telling the truth. It would not surprise her to find that any of them might be lying about the contents. She mixed them in a flask with water from her bag, most of the materials foul smelling enough to wake the dead and toxic enough to kill if ingested. The result was every bit as foul and deadly as its parts as well as being totally colourless.

With a grimace she placed the leather sheath from her knife between her teeth and bit down, seating herself again on the floor. Setting her jaw, Alexandra pulled the makeshift dressing from the wound and poured the entire contents of the flask over it. Pain like an acid burn caused her to clench her teeth so hard that she felt they might bite through the leather. She pounded her fist on the ground and threw the glass flask across the room as new skin grew.

At last the pain disappeared and was just a memory. She lay panting on the floor with a cold sweat on her forehead. After a long moment, she stood with a new respect for the soldiers and airship guards that she sold the potent brew to.

The leftovers of the jar sizzled on the tiles that remained retracted, and then all became silent. The cabinets within the hexagons began to slide quietly downwards, returning the room to its natural, featureless state. With a bell-like chime, a symbol appeared on the wall before her, glowing with a red aura about it. The howling wind returned to the room.

She exhaled heavily, slowly standing and approaching the sign on the wall. reaching out, she tapped it with a single finger.

Once again, Alexandra was pulled through a stretched space, brought into a strange elongated hallway of blurred imagery before being let go. She found herself in the same hallway as before, though everyone had seemingly vanished from before. The pillar behind her glowed green, and a line of energy coursed from it to the ceiling and down the hall.

She could only assume the group had gone further down the way. A gentle mist obscured her from seeing too far into the hallway.

Taking a few slow steps at first, Alexandra followed the green line on the ceiling, the low lighting and the mist working together to create an eerie atmosphere.

The mist retreated in the hallway, as if serving merely to obscure her distant vision. The green line continued along the way, and soon others came into vision; multiple green paths that ran parallel to her own, all leading in the same direction. Alexandra assumed they were markers denoting how many tasks had been completed. Three, six, ten… The numbers were growing, and as she kept walking, flashes of new lines surged past her and down the hallway signalling that more had completed their missions.

It had been at least fifteen minutes of walking, and the group remained unseen. Only the sound of heels clicking on the floor -not her own- broke the loneliness. Alexandra turned to find another participant rushing her from behind.

A young man, about her age if she had to guess, wearing a white trenchcoat and bearing silvery eyes and equally white hair. He waved to her as he approached, a smile of relief over his face.

"Hey! You finished your task I take it?" He slowed down and extended a hand to her and introduced himself, "Conan Hussan. I’m a participant, if it wasn’t obvious enough. Can’t imagine someone could just find their way into this place without serious help."

Alexandra nodded, not taking the hand or even giving an indication of noticing it. She continued to follow the path indicated by the green lines. "No, I don’t imagine that they would, although I have met some stupidly unlucky people. What was your task?"

Conan retracted his hand awkwardly and seemed a bit dejected. "Would you believe it if I told you I was just a tailor?" he laughed, rubbing the back of his head, "It surprised me for a bit how specific the magic in this place could get. One pillar asked for a barber, I swear!" He looked up at the green lines which had begun to appear in droves of tens every second. "We’ll reach a hundred pretty soon, seems like. Wonder what this document is that the King needs."

"It must be damn important if it’s this difficult to get to." She was immediately struck with a feeling of mistrust. She’d asked what his task was and gotten his profession. Rather than respond by asking what she’d had to do, he’d asked about their goal. "I hope there aren’t too many failures, I’d hate to have to do another task."

"Obviously. I just don’t understand why a document would need a tomb like this. Maybe it’s a magic parchment with spells of some dangerous sort? Can’t imagine why the King would need that now. Unless he was up to something terrible!" Conan proposed, sounding quite vested in his own imagination. The fog revealed the back of a heel ahead, and then a body, then several. They had made it to the back of the group, finally, though they seemed rooted in place. Overhead, Alexandra could no longer count the number of lines that glowed.

Alexandra continued to walk, threading through the crowd and not taking a look back to see if her follower was falling behind. She nudged the other participants out of her path on the way to the front, curious to see what the holdup was.

Anorm once again made himself apparent at the forefront, standing before even more endless hallway, his head was tilted upwards, scanning over the beams of light on the ceiling and walls, possibly retaining an accurate count of their numbers. More than likely, he had sent out a proper number of participants into their respective tasks, and was now simply awaiting the final hundredth "key". Most of the group was silent, themselves trying their best to judge the time left till they moved on, others conversing about unrelated and commonplace topics.

Anorm’s mouth moved, counting without speaking, then picked up in voice as the counter ran up.
"Ninety-seven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine…" Anorm turned his gaze down the hallway as the final beam lit up down its length. The group hushed as a howling noise like intense wind rushed at them from the end of the hall.

Much like the process of entering her task’s location, a wall bled into existence, complete with a golden door akin to the entrance. It sped at them from nothingness, slamming still but a few feet from Anorm himself. The hundred beams curved into the new surface, slithering across the golden door until they hit their ends. Another howl and the door began to open slowly, revealing a staircase leading a good distance down into the earth. A wide grin spread across Anorm’s face as he beckoned the group forward.