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Ettamri Belarence


"..."

Their best option was climbing up the ridge instead of going around the mountain it would seem. Or perhaps backtracking entirely around to another path. Her own flagging stamina was of no issue; she will handle that herself. But the rest of the party was her concern. They may not have the will nor the supplies to make it through more of travelling.

"I am no carpenter, nor do we have tools. To make a sturdy enough bridge to hold the cart and horses, may take a while even if we can fell the trees. But who among us can work wood?" Magic, of course, was not her forte, thus when Katya suggested an ice bridge, or perhaps one out of ice and wood, Ettamri had nothing but concern. Would it be strong enough? Sturdy enough? She wasn't a magician, thus she cannot truly be sure. "Then, mage, can you? If you cannot, then we must either backtrack, or climb the ridge line. Perhaps an actual bridge, should anyone know how to make a bridge using that."
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The conversation died down, the group of soldiers reduced to scattered thoughts and half-formed plans until finally, they gave up. There was no way they could cross that chasm, not with their current abilities and handicaps, and with misery clear upon their expressions, they began backtracking. They retread the mountain path, crossed over the plateau, and dipped down the slope they had ascended in the morning until the sulphurous fog tickled their noses once again. This time, however, the springs wasn’t their stopping point; considering the massive detour they had to take, Ettamri pushed them on once more, everyone’s knees aching as they descended the mountain.

It was late at night, by then, that they had reached the base, and fatigue clung their limbs like a thick swamp. No fire tonight, and no chance to hunt either. Oscar had found the group a comfortable copse of vegetation to form their shelter out of, at least, and after some stake-hammering, hardtack chewing, and cheerless grumbling, they settled themselves in for the night. If that chasm hadn’t been there, they’d have been in proper beds. If that chasm hadn’t been there, they’d have been ten Gold richer, and on their way back to Andeave. If that chasm hadn’t been there…

They woke up the next morning to the howl of the storm, the canvas rattling madly as the wind ripped at it. Ettamri, the only one with the constitution required to brave the blizzard, had set off to secure the horses, draping what blankets they could spare over their beasts of burden. The warrior returned to the shelter half-frozen, snow caking half her body. If they had been able to read the weather, they’d have been able to prepare for the blizzard. But weather struck fast during winter, and without even a hot meal to warm themselves, the soldiers had no choice but to shiver, chewing on rockhard biscuits while trying to melt their waterskins with body heat. Renauld was the champion there, at least, holding the distinction of having the most baby fat on him. With only cool water to quench their thirst and no space in the tent to relieve themselves, all they could do was wait for the weather to die out.
Once again, Siwon was unable to perform his bloodletting ritual, and in the storming night, the only thing that spoke up was his yellow demon, tormenting him with how this was all the curse of Kur-Inuus, that none of them would wake to see morning, that the Jaws of Death, the Fangs of Winter, would tear their shelter asunder and cast them all to the merciless rage of the elements.

No one managed to sleep much. No one but Muu.

Because in the morning, as a deafening silence reigned outside, only Muu did not open her eyes. The Bladedancer was feverish, her pale skin flushed with sweat that would only chill her further, and though the blessings of Alri-Qua were many, removing a disease such as this was beyond Katya’s capabilities. The blizzard had frozen the trees solid as well; without fire magic, none of them would be able to stoke a flame. Insufficient food, insufficient shelter, insufficient skills. To return to Andeave now would be a death sentence, but even their horses were exhausted, weakened severely by the weather they had been exposed to. It was a small miracle, really, that they had survived the night. No choice though. No choice but to push on.

With Muu wrapped up in as many blankets as possible and with Katya assigned to do what she could to hydrate her, the party carried on along the base of the mountain. If Ettamri’s map was right, if they could push up that steep mountain path swiftly, they should still be able to reach Fort Stalwart by nightfall. For these moments, when a man’s fortitude and willpower was challenged, Argen shone. Marching at the front of the party, he plowed a path with his targe, pushing snow away so the wagon never stalled. Siwon and Renauld, though largely unable to aid in the clearing of the path, strode alongside the Phanlanx, leading the horses by the reins. Oscar supported Ettamri; the heavy warrior sank with each step, and her stomach gnawed at itself the most keenly. There was no food here, only allies, but by the Gods did her allies look more and more tasty…

The sun was dipping down by the time they reached the mountain path, the snow dyed a rosy pink. At this distance, they could just make out the watchtower of Fort Stalwart, and with the goal finally in sight, the adventurers marshalled what strength they could. Muu had to be left to shiver and sweat by herself now; not one iota of strength could be spared in getting the wagon up the slope. Siwon, Oscar, and Katya pulled. Ettamri, Argen, and Renauld pushed. Every three steps they gained, one was lost due to loose snow, and five days of travelling had taken their toll. The clouds were sweeping over the skies once more, promising another night of hellish snow if they couldn’t make it to their destination. In the distance too, Oscar could hear the beating of drums, echoing through. Or was that just his heart, pounding in his ears?

They pressed on. The path was steep, but at least it was straight. The sun died, and they forced themselves to continue in the darkness, their only illumination coming from the starlight reflected in the snowbanks.

It was too dark now, to even see if Muu was still secured atop the wagon. But the light of the watchtower shone, a light that grew minutely larger with each step they took. Close, so close they could imagine the stone walls of the Fort, the barracks with the roaring hearths. They were so close!

Then, one of the horses collapsed, fatigue claiming its life.

They stopped.

The weight of the wagon became unbearable, and with that, they had no choice but to stop. The weather was growing worse, and they were entirely spent. Spent, but at least, they had meat. As the wind picked up, as the snow began to fall, they did what they could to make a last ditch effort towards shelter building. The wagon became their windbreak, the canvas was insulated with what snow Renauld could sculpt with his magic. Ettamri and Oscar butchered the horse together, and they ate it as quickly as they could, before the falling temperatures could cause the meat to freeze. Emptying out the steaming entrails, the party stuck their waterskins into the bloodied guts and stuck the unconscious Muu into the belly cavity, the warmest place they could get in their little shitty shelter. Outside, the storm raged once more. They could no longer spare any blankets for their remaining horse. It would probably die tonight too.

Good, more food for them.

The night wore on.

They shivered and shuddered, pressed close.

The masked monster regained her might, her fire.

The yellow demon cackled, mirth found in its master’s folly.

The shieldbearer wondered if this too, was a doomed venture.

The mage drifted on, between nightmares and dreams, settling into quagmire.

The ranger understood once again, that the world had found him lacking.

The bladedancer found nothing, cast again unto oblivion.

And the child…

…dreamt.

.
.
.

"Arise."

In darkness, they roused.

In darkness, they rose.
Chapter One: Bastion of the Outlands
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Ettamri Belarence


It was painful. But it was all worth it. She was never one to give up, and had always stubbornly moved forwards.

Amidst the clamor of the soldiers, she grinned behind her iron mask, her muscles barely flexing as she forced the strongest's of them all to admit defeat, simply pushing his hand onto the table. A good natured competition of sorts with the fort's garrison, both to flaunt her strength, and to pass the time. That, and the energy of it excited her, that feeling of being recognized, of being truly seen.

Now, she was simply sitting at a table inside the mess hall, staring into a fireplace with some bread and a mug of wine to warm her body. Strength, skill, and recognition. All those she had sought to try and become someone, so she can go home once again, recognized by her family, recognized by everyone else. With the curse worsened, the dream had became just that. An unattainable dream. With what Tithemal had spoken, there was no more lead on what the curse was, no more place for her to poke at, no more hope for the future. Perhaps something might lie on that far away island, but she might as well hang herself now, as even going home would be a very arduous task, not to mention the reception she might get by the island's inhabitants.

There was no light at the end of her tunnel, no reason to keep marching forwards. With all doors closed to her to regain her honor, what else was left but to wallow in her helplessness.

Ettamri tore off another piece of bread, soaking it with the wine a little. Soft fresh bread, strengthening, fortifying. For a moment she pondered the crimson child, of what she whispered, wondering how it would feel to round up an army of those they called monsters, those called inhuman, the orcs, goblins, and other kinds, just to raze entire cities and conquer an area just for herself. A simple daydream that soon escalated to other delusions as she ate the bread slowly, staring at nothing in particular.
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Warm; that was the feeling Renauld had nearly forgotten.

Even though he was barely conscious enough to think, he could freely move his fingers. The winter winds of the previous days made it almost impossible for him to do even the simplest tasks of grasping a staff. His face regained feeling, apparent from the sudden slap his unrestrained body let out as he tried to scratch his face. He was alive, that was for certain. Taking his self-inflicted hit in stride, he went to rub his eyes. As he cleared the crust that had formed on his eyes, the back of his hand became wet with whatever was left on his face.

That dream he had was alien, but familiar. He couldn't recall it. He couldn't remember. Did he even want to remember?

Wiping the old tears from his face, he took a deep breath as he sat up from the bed. Hunger pangs slowed him. He was the first one awake. At least, out of the ones in the room. Muu got sick and was nowhere to be found. Ettamri was also gone, but more likely for different reasons. The rest were still resting in their bed. His own stuff had been placed by the bedside. After quietly (or as quiet as you could on a pile of straw) getting up and making the bed, he collected his things and formed them into a stereotypical hobo pack. The outer layer of his 5-days-wet clothes had finally been dried and was now being used as a shell to carry his things in a fortress. In a safer city in a different time, he probably could have just left his stuff by the bed until someone else needed to use it. In Andeave, you kept your shit on you. Plus, it was really only his winter wear. His armour consisted of crossing one's fingers and allies to place between you and the enemy.

Not wishing to wake the other party members, he stepped out of the room and, following his simple lizard brain, went towards the pleasant smell.
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The ranger suddenly wakes from his restful slumber and takes shallow and ragged breaths as he sweats bullets. His body instinctively pats his body, as if he was unsure if he was awake or not. Alive or dead. After a few more moments of hyperventilating and patting, the ranger finally collects his composure and places his face on his hands. His stomach was tight and had a strong urge to wash his whole body. He hadn't a faintest idea why he felt so dirty. He simply felt it.

He removed himself from the bed he was resting on and noticed that his things were beside it. All still there and accounted for but, once his eyes were set on the waterskin, he quickly takes in in his hands and spills the contents over his hair and face. The ice-cold water contained within removed any remnants of sleep and the vigorous scrubbing sated his need to clean himself for the moment. Once he felt his anxiety levels stabilize, he lets out a heavy sigh as he remembered everything that occurred the past two days. The backtracking, the shitty camp, Muu getting sick, and the likely death of both their horses.

A reminder that no matter how well he thinks he did, at the end of it all, he was still lacking...

"Bullshit." he whispers to himself with an aggravated tone. He was still alive, wasn't he? He still had his chance to prove that statement wrong. Letting the cold air dry the equally cold water off his face, he wears his foot wrapping and boots and walked out of the room to enter the halls of the unknown building they were in. If he could give an educated guess, he would assume this was the Fort Stalwart they were trying so desperately to reach. After giving the hall a quick once over, the ranger begins to wander around the fort; to both map and scout, the area as well as locate the soldiers garrisoned here and give them a proper thank you for saving them.


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Muu


Her palms were sweaty. Knees weak, and arms heavy. Muu felt like shit. The past hours, days(?), a tangled collection of thoughts. The snow. The silent musician. The bath. The nuts. The thirst. The house without walls. Just what- "-!?" Longing for air, Muu woke up drenched in sweat.

She felt like shit. Somewhat regaining her thoughts more clearly, the girl was taken aback to a similar situation. A long time ago. The simple bite of a goblin lead to a horrible infection. And now? Where was she? Alive? The wagon? The others? So many questions, little answers.

She had been a burden again.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she would just- No. Muu wasn't the same Muu from back then. Under heavy groans, the blade-dancer lifted herself up. There were others, but Muu's throat was too dry to talk.
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Argentum



Argen takes a deep breath his body jerks awake. His eyes darted back and forth over and over again looking around the now missing table. He instinctively checks his hands, his feet, and all of his limbs. Now he looks around at his surroundings, thinking he was in that dark gambling room, yet it was just a simple room. He took a deep breath and sighed as he then sputtered out, "Fuck me".

Argen began reequipping his gear, finding his own hands shaking. Even if he was now warm and rested he felt something take hold of him and drain him of some energy. He knew this well, fear. He sighed as he had finally found himself in a worry again, another venture that seemed to have been doomed from the start. Hell with that bad hand, it always seems luck never favored him, even now. Yet, at least something good came with their rush, they were found.

These thoughts had to wait, he needed to find everyone else, if they were to be found that is. He knows if he survived someone must know where they are, maybe he can find something, or someone. Hell some food would be great, even though he ate everyday, he found it slightly lacking in weight, and didn't help when he had to work like a maniac to push the cart. His body only knew one thing at some points, survive. He pushed through the snow as a plow for the cart and felt his body grow weak yet didn't allow a single shift as he knew to stop is to die. And they all nearly did, even if the pushed it seemed like some being was trying to kill them.

That no longer matters all that matters now is to find out who lived and where he is. After all, it would only be smart to understand how far are they away from the city, as it would be worst if they are unable to make it back. After all he has a debt to pay.
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Ettamri, Renauld, Argen, Oscar – Breaking the Fast
Renauld, Oscar, and Argen’s quest for food and/or adventure eventually brought them to the mess hall, an orderly room lit up by a small fire. Unlike the comfort of their bedroom, the mess hall was a good bit chillier, a draft coming in every time a guard left and every time a guard entered. Many of the guards present were chattering quietly to themselves, wrapped up in furred cloaks. They dipped their portions of bread in some sort of root soup, and though a couple of them looked at the three as they entered, they soon turned away. A Guard assigned to the protection of Fort Stalwart was a good deal above the vagrants-turned-monster-hunters that the soldiers of the Silver Moon Army were, after all. From the howling of the wind and the condition of those guards who came in for their lunch break, it was snowing again, the entrance to the outside wet with melted flakes. Torches illuminated the mess hall and glinted off the motley armor of Ettamri, their companion, but she neither greeted nor even turned in their direction.

At the opposite end of the room, an aproned woman, short and well-endowed, spooned out bowls of soup and thwacked the hands of those who wanted a second serving of bread. It didn’t look as if the guards lining up for the meal had to pay for it, but then again, they were guards. A graying man chewed on a stick as he worked the fire and the dough, pulling out baked loaves that still crackled from the heat of the oven. On one particularly crowded table, half-finished bowls of soup competed with a large checkered board and a small army of tokens. Periodically the guards there would roll dice, before moving or removing the tokens, accompanied by chin-stroking and appreciative grumbling.

It wasn’t lively, and there didn’t look to be any alcohol, but when the weather was this bad, expending energy being rowdy was simply a waste.

Katya, Siwon – Chamberpots and Maidenly Business
Katya, under her covers, waited, her blue eye peeking out from her blanket. How long had she been awake at this point? She no longer knew, but she could hardly hold it in any longer. There was Ettamri. Then Renauld. Oscar. Argen. She already knew that Muu was somewhere else. But why was Siwon still asleep? Geez, how could he be so tired, when even the mage was up and moving? Her inner thighs tightened again, the child’s expression twisting into one of agony and concentration. Stupid Fort people, putting everyone in the same room. At the very least, it was common sense to separate the boys from the girls, right?

“Siwon…pssssst, Siwon…” Katya whispered towards the Fiend Knight, but there was no response. “Siwon? Siwon? Siwon!” Still no response. Was he dead? Katya hopped off her bed, pulling stray straws out of her clothes, and padded towards him. It looked like he was breathing at least, but then, why wasn’t he waking up? With one of those straws, the priest began to tickle his face…to no response. Then she stuck a straw up his stupid nose…still no response. Maybe if she whacked him on the head…no, that’s just dangerous.

Her bladder protested once more, and Katya’s face screwed up even further. Fine! If he wasn’t going to wake up now, he probably won’t wake up soon! Groping around with her feet, she eventually touched the chamberpot in the dark room, pulled it out to a more open space, popped off the wooden lid, and did what needed to be done in the safety of darkness.

Yup, nothing better than an unused pot.

Muu – Hospitalized Once More
“Not gonna wanna do that, lady.”

A firm, large hand pressed against Muu’s head and forced her back down. As her senses focused around her, the Bladedancer could tell that she was in a wide infirmary, white light spilling from the gaps of the wooden window slats. Around her, there were perhaps another dozen people infirmed, coughing or cursing or groaning or snoring. Her bed felt comfortable beneath her; was it wool that she was resting on? Before she could dwell on it, the upper half of her bed folded upwards, a thick thump sounding as it rested upon a new post. She was sitting up now, even as her head swam from the sudden shifting of her blood flow. Then, a rough hand wrapped around her lower jaw, forcing her mouth open, and a vial of some strange, spicy liquid was shoved in, its contents spilling down her throat.
Thankfully, she didn’t choke on it, swallowing the concoction instead.

“Good, you drink fast.” The hand around her jaw released its grip, and as she traced that hand to its owner, Muu was greeted by the face of…a crow? No, it had to be a mask. A man with a crow’s mask, the black beak inches away from swatting her on the face, as opaque lenses peered inquisitively towards her. The rest of the man, thankfully, looked normal, a coat over his white robes as he pulled out a set of tongs from a tray beside him.

Wait, white robes in an infirmary?

This man wasn’t a healer at all!
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The ranger scans the room before taking note of the people present. From the aged baker to the crowd of soldiers playing a game of some sort with dice, a checkered board, and dice. All of them possibly had information regarding their saviors, but he held off his desire to question them and let them have their peace while eating. These guards deserved that much. He was not sure his other companions would follow suit, but he didn't feel hungry yet and didn't want to disturb the guards' period of rest and relaxation. So, instead, he looked at where Ettamri was seated and decided to alleviate her of the lonesomeness to an extent.

With that in mind, the man walks to her table and gives her a simple greeting before taking a seat. He would have made a joke or quip about the snow or cold in general, but nearly dying last night made any lighthearted jokes or quips to be in poor taste. The ranger simply kept his mouth shut for the moment being and let himself be absorbed in the slightly cozy environment that the mess hall radiated.


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Ettamri Belarence


"Welcome back to the world of the living." She greeted the ranger. "Got a bit hairy at the end there."

She didn't need to say anything else; obviously the ranger can figure out the rest. It... was a bit odd. She had conflicting feelings on her curse making her constitution durable enough to weather that rough bit of storm. If she had not been what she was, this would have turned out significantly different. Perhaps even disastrously so. Even then, it was a bit of a close shave.
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The ranger turns his head slightly to the larger woman and replies with a rather warm but tired smile. "Same to you, Ettamri." Oscar lets out a somewhat relaxed breath. "When I thought the world was finished with us, it pulls us back in. I guess our job in this world ain't done yet." His mind then comes back to the memory of one of his party mates in particular. "Any news regarding Muu? Last time we saw her she was running a high fever and could barely lift a finger." Naturally, he was concerned for the well being of his companion. If she had died, it would be a detrimental blow to the mission and, more importantly, their morale.

A broken spirit would mean a death sentence to even the most experienced soldiers.

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Argentum



Argen finally entered the mess hall, and found it have a small and cozy energy. It was a nice change of pace from a constant melancholy nature of the trip he and his companions had to do. As his eyes scanned the area as he found a small gambling area and they seemed to have been rolling dice, 'Good', was all he could think as he thought of his dream once again when he saw the gathering. Was still a game of luck, but was definitely better as it didn't involve him losing his cool to seeing a hand similar to the one he saw in his dream.

As Argen continued his scan, he saw some of his companions at a lone table. Ettamri and Oscar, two hearty people, hopefully the others made it through. This doesn't bode well however as he hasn't seen or heard of the others and their Blade Dancer was running a fever and could have passed. Hopefully not, yet if she did, then she would at least be given a fate better than this.

Argen began to make his way over to the table as he passed a few people and shifting quietly around others, trying to not bring any unwanted talk to him. As he finally made it over he wanted to stay the same with a good old sigh, yet knew he should try giving some more than a near dead pan expression.

Argen made it to his companions as he starts with, "How are you two? You both seem well, that is good to see". Argen says this as he tries to muster what can be called a smile, yet the best he can make is a half ass-ed smirk. As he drops it as he isn't feeling like making a face, all he wants is food, yet he is unsure if the food is free. If it's not then he's not sure he can pay as he has no money on him to pay. He should have some rations left, yet that is mostly jerky and dried foods, which is less than satisfying.
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Muu


After being just so lightly violated by the stranger, Muu was more than happy that she had gotten something to drink. As grotesque as it might have been, it was still better than nothing. It helped her to focus. The man was, as strange as he appeared, not out to kill her at the very least. Still, there were so many questions...

"Who are you? Where am I? Where is my party? My gear? How long do you want me to rest? How much does it cost?" She asked him after a moment of thought. That should have been all, right? The most important questions, anyway.
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Ettamri, Renauld, Argen, Oscar, Katya – The Breakfast Club

Relieved and clean, Katya shoved the chamberpot back into the corner of the room, putting the lid back on. She shrugged on her shoes, hefted her staff up, and strode on out of the room, casting a final “Goodbye, Siwon” as she did. The Fiend Knight was either still asleep or simply didn’t deign to respond, laying there in bed silently.

Outside, after gravitating towards the smell of food and the crackling of fire, the blue-haired priest found the cafeteria where everyone else was. Oscar sat looking gloomy, Ettamri sat looking not-gloomy, Argen stood like Argen, and Renauld did what Renauld always did: exist. “Wow,” she remarked, looking at their already-empty table, “you guys eat fast! That’s not good for your tummy, you know?” Maybe they were just hungry though, and wolfed it down so fast they ate the wood of the utensils too? Her own stomach growled, Katya’s entire body feeling much more empty now, and she soon lined up behind the guards, reaching the front of the line after a couple minutes. Katya looked the soup-dispensing woman in the eye, and the woman did the same, before she realized that they were the same height. No, not only the same height, but, based off the proportions and how their shoulders were placed in relation to their heads…the woman was shorter than her? Was she…standing on a stool behind that counter?

A smug grin formed on Katya’s face, and she received the bowl of soup and the bread bun with all the grace of someone who had finally met someone shorter than herself.

“Washboard,” muttered the serving lady. The baker in the back of the kitchen chortled, only to get kicked in the knee.

Katya stuck her tongue out at her, not fully comprehending the insult, and skipped back to the others. Seating herself between Oscar and Ettamri, the priest daintily demonstrated the proper way of eating, sending a silent prayer off to Ain-Mala, and then slowly eating the simple, but tasty meal before her. Every bite was to be relished, every chunk to be chewed. Compared to the potato skin soup that she usually ended up eating back in the Church of First Light, this was simply divine.

“By the by,” she asked, cheeks stuffed with food, “Where’s Muu?”

Muu - The Good Doctor

As Muu barraged the crow-man with questions, he proceeded with more of his administrations, taking her opening of her mouth as consent to continue with his practice. His powerful hand pressed against the sides of her mouth once more, before the wooden tongs in the man’s spare hand grabbed onto her tongue, moving it this way and that while the crow-man himself had to tilt his head in disturbing manners in order to get a good look at whatever was inside. Three minutes passed before he relinquished his grip upon her face once more, going back to the task of mixing strange liquids together.

“Call me Ziint. You’re in Fort Stalwart. Your group is here as well. Your gear is also here. You don’t need rest, but you need more medication. The cost is…yes, tell me how effective it is later.”

Swirling a new, bubbling concoction in front of one of his lenses, the man nodded once with approval, before transferring it into a slimmer, wooden container with a surface that glistened in the daylight. He put on a pair of leather gloves, cracked his wrists a couple of times, before gesturing once more towards Muu.

“Alright, lie on your stomach,” he instructed, toneless as a golem. “This one goes in your rectum.”
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Before the large woman could give her answer, their phalanx approached the table and greeted them with a faint smirk that disappeared just as quickly as it appeared before taking a seat with them. "I'm fine for the most part, Argen. Also, it's good to see that you too are alive and well." Renauld soon followed afterward but seemed not in the talking mood. Not a moment later, their youngest member made her appearance and take note of the empty table. "Ah, you are mistaken Katya. Other than Ettamri, I don't think we have eaten for the day yet...well I'm at least sure that I haven't eaten." It was not that Oscar didn't want to eat, it was that he didn't have the appetite to eat despite the wonderful aroma of freshly baked bread and the smell of the soup.

Perhaps his memory of eating raw horse was putting him off?

None the less, he observed their little priest walk to the line for the soup and bread after her stomach audibly growled. The ranger could not help but smile at the exchange between the two and outright laughed as soon as the lady called Katya 'washboard'. He felt much better now after having a good laugh. She sat between him and Ettamri and prayed to the god of sunlight before relishing her meal. She paused for a moment to ask where Muu was. "Your guess is as good as mine, but I'm hoping that she is fine...Is the fiend knight still asleep?" He turns his head to face the girl and exhaled through his nose as an expression of his surprise and amusement. The priestess had her cheeks filled with food and bits of bread crumbs littered her mouth. Even if she acted mature, deep down she couldn't deny the fact that she was still a child.

Oz raised a gloved hand, ready to wipe away the crumbs of her mouth, but hesitated. He couldn't remember his nightmare from last night but a feeling, deep down in his gut, was telling him not to. As if it was his instincts warning him that if he touches her, he'd hurt her. He lowers his hand and stands from his seat from the table. "Well no point in pondering. I'll go ask around and look for her. I'll come back as soon as I find answers." He then begins to walk away from the table and back to the hallway, asking whoever he encounters if they knew where the blade dancer was being kept then asking for directions.

Hidden 9 mos ago Post by Skyswimsky
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Skyswimsky uwu

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Muu


Being treated like some doll he could just treat whatever did not sit well with Muu. In fact, for a routine check he seemed to do quite a lot.

"I was just a bit exhausted. I'm fine now." Muu tried to explain. Kind of, anyway. "What do I-" 'Rectum' "..." It took her a few moments. Did the 'doctor' seriously just suggest that? "WHAT!?" She called out. If the treatment from just now did not sit well with her, then doing what he was planning to do was definitely, certainly, 100 times worse!

"No." She told him. Simple and effective. Although, ultimately, she likely was still too weak to properly defy his will. "How? Why? ... I-I'd like to see my companions!"
Hidden 9 mos ago Post by Th3King0fChaos
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Th3King0fChaos The Weird

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Argentum



Argen Finds himself looking off and inspecting the rest of the area as he thinks about heading off for food. Once Oscar speak of finding their lost companion Argen decides it would be a good time to eat. As he states, "I think our companion is fine. But if you'll excuse me, I'll be grabbing something to eat". As Argen heads off to line up and grab some food. Damn a good warm meal that he didn't have to wait to make. He definitely is in a good mood for the start of the day.
Hidden 9 mos ago Post by OwO
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OwO what's this?

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Entering the mess hall, Renauld was overcome with hearth and home. Even though it had only been the third or fourth day since leaving Andeave, the stress and anxiety of the winter landscape alienated the ice mage. A room full of strangers had never felt so familiar or friendly. Well, about as friendly as Renauld could muster. He got his bread and soup. For once, a warm meal that didn't cut into the roof of his mouth nor cover it in grease. Still an outsider to the fort, he sat with his party and wolfed it down. He ignored the noticeable pains of his scratched palate. To call it divine would be an overstatement. It was root soup and bread. Still, it beat what he had eaten for the previous half-week by a landslide.

When Katya asked where Muu was, Renauld had a general idea on where she was. He didn't—and couldn't—know exactly where she was. He was at least attentive enough to know that she was taken to whatever sickbay this fort had. The gap in knowledge made him not answer the question. She was fine. Probably. Unless they were trying to shove foreign objects up her rear, really. He had no real idea if a prayer could cure sickness or how advanced medicine was, especially if people could just pray the hurt away.

Maybe she would have gotten the leeches.

Still, he wanted to conserve his strength for the return. Traversing back through the wilderlands was going to be miserable. As a result, he relaxed at the table.
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