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Object permeance is overrated.

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The ikemen paused when Ahmya unloaded a noble greeting. By the ephemeral look of surprise in his face, he certainly didn't expect such a woman to be a noble. As always, his reactions faded to a soft smile as he returned the greeting. Placing the metal hand over his heart, he lowered his head to Ahmya.

"Lord Siris Corbain, a pleasure to meet you," he introduced himself before switching to a considerably more informal tone. "Though, we aren't beholden to the court here. I'm not particularly one for formality, so speak whichever way is most comfortable. I'm sure your—" He glanced at the two oni. "—situation is quite complex."

Quickly, he became reabsorbed in his own thoughts, only snapping back to the conversation when Annalee introduced herself.

"Don't worry about the holes, please. That," he pointed to the large obelisk, "will fix it soon enough."

When Annalee asked to forage the land for herbs, Siris burst out in laughter. Struggling to stop himself, he looked away and covered his mouth with his left hand. He did a poor job, considering how his chuckles lasted for some time.

"Rather audacious, aren't you? Brazenly plucking through a duke's private lands for herbs," he teased Annalee, "go right ahead. Though, be careful about it. These lands are still the wilds. While monsters are often repelled, beasts are not. Wouldn't want to have an unfortunate encounter with a bear. Not even the wolves wish to encounter them."
The odd ikemen's behaviour was certainly carefree. Rather than be even more amazed at the fact that strangers plummeted to a meadow and lived, his initial childlike wonder had been replaced by pure amusement, if nothing else. One girl got a face full of petals and stems. Her shrieks of terror at being blinded gave the ikemen a quick chuckle. The total nonchalant attitude of the girl who spat out clumps of dirt was also worthy of a smile. The second smallest of them, a boy, spoke about what he had saw.

"A creepy skull person..."

For a brief moment, the smile on his face vanished as he became lost in thought. Just as quickly, he shook his head out of the sudden funk and regained a soft smile. As he saw the shirtless oni stretch towards the sky, his eyes opened as much as they could. A quick whistle escaped from his lips. The distinct weew noise.

But a fifth figure popped up from their crater. A female oni came out and, as soon as her feet met stable ground, she dropped forward. The ikemen paused for a moment before swinging one leg over the saddle and hopping onto the ground. He lowered himself, one knee on the ground, and outstretched a metal hand towards her.

"A hand, m'lad—"

"Young maaasssteeeer~~!!" A woman's voice called out from the treeline. Alongside the cracking of twigs and sticks, a woman barrelled out of the forest. Her extraordinarily long hair carried dozens of leaves and twigs within it. She huffed and puffed the second she entered the meadow. Unlike the man, she was fully armed with blade in hand and ivory-painted plate covering her body. Only catching her breath for a fraction of a second, she looked at the group before her. To one side, the ikemen and his horse. At his feet was a pale oni seeking comfort in the dirt. 5 craters littered the ground between the obelisk and the ikemen. People were in those craters, the most notable being the giant mass of muscle stretching upwards.

Wait, weren't those two oni?

"How... How dare you..." The woman's voice was filled with frustration and anger. Her face scrunched as she could barely contain her rage. "How dare you damage the young master's land and... And..." The second act was too terrible for her to speak. She could barely speak it out loud without the rage stopping her "force him on his knee! Get away from him, you ignorant cretin!" Charging forth with sword in hand, she dashed towards the neck of the sprawled out oni.

The smiling ikemen turned toward the woman. A single "eh" escaped from hips lips as a cold sweat ran down his brow.

"W-wait Yda!" He panicked as he stuttered out everything he could. "Don't! Stop! No! Bad!" His commands felt more as though he were speaking to a dog.

The woman, in almost comical fashion, sheathed her blade as she ran. She dropped to her knees, sliding on dew-covered grass until she came to a complete stop. Instantly, her upper body lurched forwards and she buried her skull into the ground. Her hands stretched in front of her. This was the legendary flying kowtow.

"M-my apologies young master! Please forgive this humble servant!"

The ikemen coughed, a hand covering his mouth as he looked away from the group. Regaining his composure, he turned back to the group. The same amiable smile on his face as always.

"Well then, what brings you to my lands?"

Out of anywhere to crash land, the party of five had crashed in front of the two largest idiots in the continent.


Well, even if he was a champion, the group was most likely safe. For someone as strong as the champion, he could have probably easily crushed the party in his birthday suit. Thankfully, Tithemal wasn't a cruel bastard. Rather, he was a warrior through and through. He wouldn't go out of his way to crush random strangers.

Maybe.

Renauld was putting all of his faith into Tithemal rather than his own party. After all, they wouldn't be able to best such a man. If Tithemal wanted them dead, they would be dead. That was all there was to it. It was best to just stay out of his way and try to finish the convoy. Renauld had few worries about letting the women in the party relax in the springs with such a man. At the end of the day, however, there was little reason to worry about them. In fact, the men had more to worry about. Ettamri was a walking hulk of destruction. She was with Katya and the rest, and they would be safe. Well, unless Muu and Ettamri decided to duke it out in front of the orc. The camping crew was considerably weaker than them. They lost 2/3s of the group's power. She was really a linchpin for the party. There was no point in thinking to deep about any of this, though. If something would happen, it would happen. That's all there was to it.

This time, the camp was considerably easier. Packing down snow and setting up tents at peak weather was easy. Much easier than building a hovel from scratch. Really, if they had the tents, why didn't they just do it the first time around? No sense dwelling on it. It was what it was. Even though he wasn't a hunter, the setup for the tents was easy. Just put up the supports, drape the tenting, and nail everything into the ground.

With Ettamri coming back without a worry, the others were most likely safe. There was still no reason for him to worry. For Renauld, a nice dinner and rest would make the arduous path they took bearable.
Market? Stuff? Intro? Whus dis all 'bout, Master OwO?


Dahlia is kind of socially bungling her way out of the building and to the market to buy junk to prove she's a cool cat.

...hustling her way out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the building.

Next stop: the market for last minute supply gittin'.


so i want to know if you want me to do the work or for you to set the scene for it
do you want me to do the market stuff on my own or do you want to do an intro for that
staking a claim post


The death throes of the young boy froze Six. He was family. His struggle to live had rekindled something that Six forgot she had: empathy. Killing humans was easy. She never thought about it as killing another thinking being. To her, it always felt more like crushing ant underfoot or chopping the head off of a chicken. It might have been messy, but unavoidable. Something that didn't phase her. But the boy was different. She had lost a brother. Even if they weren't close, she could feel her heart pound. Her vision became narrow. Was this really the right path?

She was a tool. That's all she was. If she did what was asked of her, she could live without trouble.

But she was a person. No matter how many orders she followed or people she killed, she could never gain control.

Six shifted her body enough to finally crawl out of the young boy's back. Her arms retracted back through the boy's skull. Were it not for the dagger in the boy's gut, the boy would have been unaffected by the action. She emerged, water dripping from her clothes. All Six did was curl into a ball next to the boy. The cold air from outside bit into her clothes. Frost formed along the edges as she struggled to keep any warmth close to her.

She was miserable.
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