Pezz570

The Five Senses

Chres Sansus

Interaction with @Typical @HokumPocus

---

Talon flicked his wings sharply. His posture stiffened; his feathers ruffling ever so slightly. Talon spoke in a long drawn out voice. “It is not my place to answer that question.” He said with a hint of annoyance. “My bond is sacred. My allegiance? … Not to you.”

Talon looked to Farris, eyeing the man distrustfully. His eyes narrowed, widened, and then narrowed yet again. “It seems my master has invited you inside.” He said with a click of his tongue. “In this town, words are best spoken under a shroud of light.” A side door opened to the building behind Talon. Inside came a familiar green glow.

Chres raised his head at bird’s choice of words. He looked to the open door and the crystal jade glow emitted from within. Whoever Talon’s master was, it was clear that person already had a working knowledge on how to shield his or her self from the cult.

Chres hesitated. He turned his gaze to the building from which the innkeeper had yet to return.

“My master does not grant invitations lightly. I suggest you accept the offer." Talon warned. "For your own sake... and for the sake of your comrade.”

An unease befell Chres. The atmosphere surrounding them had gone unnaturally silent. The entire street appeared to be watching them. Waiting to see what the group would do.

The Five Senses

Chres Sansus

Interaction with @Typical @HokumPocus

---

Paranoia. Could be worse. Chres could handle a paranoid Crazed for now.... So long as the man didn't Snap.

That was about when Octavio's familiar spoke out. "I apologize for not having formally introduced myself to this party. I am Lynx, travelling partner to Octavio."

Chres turned his attention to the familiar, caught off guard. This was the first time the familiar addressed the party.

"Despite my feline appearance, I am an individual of distinguished origin and would prefer to be treated as an equal on this journey." It said.

Chres was taken aback. A familiar seeing itself as an equal to the rest of them? Familiars were property first and foremost. The intelligent ones were designed to understand this difference between their selves and a normal person. The less intelligent familiars, like Sil's, were simply made to not be smart enough to understand. It was a guard put in place for the owner's own safety... as well as everyone else's.

Octavio's familiar was clearly different. That unnerved Chres. How many others were out there like Lynx? How many of them were dangerous?

Lynx turned to Sil and muttered. "And no Sil, you may not play with my tail,”

"Hmmmmmm..." He heard Sil hummed aloud.

Sil... Chres thought hesitantly to his familiar.

Sil looked from Lynx to Chres, to Ferris and then Octavio. She finally settled her gaze back on Lynx. Clasping her hands behind her back, she leaned forward and smiled.

"Okay." She said happily.

Okay?! Chres thought, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

"No more pulling on Mr. Lynx's tail." She said fluttering off to go perch herself on Chres's shoulder.

Chres looked to his familiar, impressed. "Well, well." Chres said. "I'm proud of you, Sil."

"He wants to be treated equally," She said with a shrug. "and I don't have a tail for him to tug on."

Sil leaned back, relaxing on Chres's shoulder. Suddenly she tilted her head to the side as if remembering something. She transformed into her ferret form. "Wait a second..." She said, looking to her tail.

"My appolgies Lynx!" Chres said suddenly, and loudly. "It was wrong of us to treat you as anything less then a person. Isn't that right, Sil?" Chres growled out the last sentence.

"Hm?" Sil said, distracted from her prior line of thinking. She looked to Chres, transforming back into her fairy form.

"Lynx wishes to be treated equally." Chres said firmly. "Treat him like you would me."

"Unseemly." Spat a voice from above. "A proper Familiar should know it's place!"

Chres looked up. Perched on the roof above them, was a vulture that gave off a dull silver glow. A familiar, no doubt. The bird stared down at the group as if dissecting them. No... judging them.

The bird fluttered down, landing onto a nearby post. It gave Lynx a look of disgust. "You're a disgrace. Nothing more than a pampered cat." The Familiar snapped. "You are no equal."

Suddenly Sil spoke up. "He's not a disgrace!" She protested. "He's a lynx! A lynx of... of dis... disting..."

"Distinguished?" Chres suggested.

"Yeah! That's it!" Sil said. "A lynx of distinguished origin! -Whatever that means- And what are you supposed to be? An ugly chicken?" Sil looked over to Lynx. Winking and giving him a thumbs up.

"Call me what you'd like." The vulture said with a sniff. "I care not."

Chres narrowed his eyes. His hand absently fingered his dagger. He didn't like the attitude of this familiar. "Who are you?" He said coldly.

"Not that it matters," The bird drawled. "but you may call me Talon." He clenched his own talons, as if to emphasize the name.

"Humorous, I know. But it's a far more original name than the one belonging to that beast over there." Talon said condescendingly. It nodded off in Lynx's direction.

The Five Senses

Plot Point

@Jerkchicken, @fetzen, @13org

---

The door to the tower splinter inwards. Lynne, one of the new recruits, was the first into the building and up the steps. She paused half way up.

"What is it?" One of the men behind her asked.

"I..." Lynne stuttered, blinking twice. "I just saw myself die..." She replied.

Lynne looked up wide eyed in time to see the target's foot smash her head in. Lynne's body went limp. Rolling down the steps and knocking the two men behind her down with her.

Tayla tsked. Seeing yourself die is never a good sign, while in the Distortion. Had Lynne reacted quicker, perhaps she could have avoided death.

Smit sighed. "Whelp... Lynne's dead." He said, frowning.

Tayla shrugged off the comment. She never liked the woman anyways. Lynne was far too flirty with the men. It made her more of a distraction rather than an asset.

"Good news is," Smit continued. He reached for his magic deterrent coated throwing knifes, and looked the dirtied man in the eyes. "our target came to us."

Tayla grit her teeth, grinding them in frustration. She looked up, towards the top of the tower. That was where she wanted to be.

"We need to cut him off." Tayla said. Her voice muffled by the tufts of cotton.

Smit nodded. "Makes sense. I'll go gather-"

Tayla cut him off. "No need." She said, placing her hand to the ground. Five others gathered around her while three other cultist ran up the stairs to face the dirtied man. "I planned ahead." She focused on the taste of one of the five cotton tufts in her mouth. Savory.

"What?" Smit asked. He whipped his head in Tayla's direction, but it was already too late. The ground beneath Tayla warped, stretching upwards. "Tayla!" Smit called after her, in protest.

She ignored the man's complaints, instead directing her attention to the man who had pretended to be a beggar. "Tex!" She shouted to him. "You're up!"

Tex smiled a sluggish grin. The skinny brown skinned man had just finished chugging half a wine skin. It's effects were quickly kicking in. The man leaned against the wall, touching it's stone surface with his hand. His eyes were half closed and unfocused.

For a moment, it seemed that Tex would collapse. But then, his eyes shot open. His scrawny muscles bulged. A renewed focus entered Tex's eyes. The effects of the wine seemingly burning away.

With a roar, Tex lept toward the dirtied man as he faced off against the three clan members climbing up the stairs.

---

Tayla warped the ground beneath her and her men. The ground stretched upwards, up off the ground floor. Warping so much ground was a taxing feat. She could quickly feel her lips beginning to dry with each moment that passed.

They raised pass one flight of stairs. Two flights. Three. Tayla stopped there. She could feel her tongue sticking lightly to the roof of her mouth as she pulled it away. She needed a sip of water.

She looked to the men and women with her. They looked back as if expecting her to do more.

"Well?" Tayla said expecting the group to get off. Instead they glanced at one another as if unsure. One woman even questioningly pointed upwards as if asking, 'Aren't you taking us all the way to the top?'

For the love of- Tayla thought, her lip curling up in annoyance. "STOP STANDING AROUND AND GET OFF ALREADY!" she barked.

The group jumped, startled awake from their stupor. One by one they stepped onto the nearby steps and ascended to the top.

Tayla tsked. New recruits. She thought. Here she was, dehydrating. What did they do? Stand there, looking around like a flock of dumb birds.

With a shake of the head, she followed the group. Once on solid ground. She let go of the warped platform. The ground instantly turned back to it's normal state, as if it was like that the whole time.

Tayla took out a skin of water and took a long swig. Much better. She thought.

She followed her team upwards, grabbing a handful of coins as they neared the top. Using her tongue, she shifted the cotton tufts in her mouth till she tasted the one she wanted. Sour. Her magic triggered.

Tayla released the coins, letting the coins newly applied momentum launch them towards the opening above. Anyone waiting there would be in for a nasty surprise...

The Five Senses

Chres Sansus

Interaction with @Typical @HokumPocus

Mentioned @13org

---

The innkeeper covered his ears in response to Octavio's words. "Everything's normal! Not thinking about it! Just going to show you all the way." The innkeeper said loudly.

Chres smiled. He couldn't help but feel slightly amused by the innkeeper's stubbornness. Sooner or later the man would have to confront the reality of what Ferris was.

A sudden growl distracted Chres from his amusement. He looked to Lynx in time to see Sil yelp. Frightened by the familiar's change in demeanor, Sil quickly zipped away from the snarling beast and hid behind Chres's leg. Chres smiled. About time. He thought.

"He... growled... at me..." She said in-between sobs.

"Yeah... I don't blame him." Chres said.

"How am I supposed to know what a minx is?" She cried.

"You're not!" Chres said more quickly than he would have liked. Last thing he needed was for Sil to start tossing the word 'minx' in Karina's direction! Chres took a deep breath. "He's a lynx, Sil. Not a dog. Not a mouse. Not a lizard, horsey or arma-whatever-you-called-it. But a Lynx."

Sil's sobbing quieted. "A Sphinx?" She asked with a sniffle.

"A Lynx." Chres said firmly.

"A... Lynx..." She said as if trying the words out for the first time. She looked to Lynx curiously. Her finger raised too her lip. Chres tilted his head. Did he actually get through to her? Perhaps she could be taught a lesson or two.

He then looked to Octavio and sighed. "Honestly, Octavio, Lynx would have a hard time hurting her even if he wanted to. She was never given the ability to feel pain. Unfortunate really. Perhaps she would have been a better learner if she knew what pain was." He joked.

"I do too know what pain is!" Sil exclaimed, making herself level with Chres's gaze. Her hands on her hips. Cheeks puffed out. "Pain is what happens when people insert things where they don't belong!" She explained proudly, nodding her head satisfied.

Chres coughed loudly, nearly tripping in shock. He looked to his familiar. Eyes wide with disbelief. "Sil! Where did you ever learn a thing like that?" He asked in-between coughs.

Sil shrugged. "I've seen people do all sorts of weird things while you take naps. Did you know some people make puddles on trees?!"

Chres gave her a long flat stare. "Sil... I'm afraid we are going to have a nice, long talk tonight." If he could get through to her with Lynx, then perhaps he could teach her not to spy on people when they do... private things...

"I agree." Sil replied, fluttering off in Lynx's direction. "We really need to talk about how much bigger your nose is compared to mine."

Chres arched an eyebrow. So... He thought, that's why she thinks my nose is big... He shook his head. Watching as she hesitantly approached Lynx.

"Um... Ex-excuse me, Mr. Lynx." She said shyly. Her politeness impressed Chres. Perhaps her manners were taking a turn for the better. "Would you like to play tug on Mr. Lynx's tail with me?"

Aaaaaaaaaand.... face palm. "Well... at least she asked." Chres sighed. That was one step in the right direction.

"We're here." The innkeeper said, stopping in the middle of the Shimmer Town's slums. Chres looked around uneasy. Homeless lined the streets, wrapped in blankets and covered in dirt. People of questionable character stood hunched in the shadows eyeing their group. They looked at each of them from head to foot, as if trying to decide whether it was worth robbing them or not. The streets stank of trash, shit and piss. It was not the most pleasant of places.

"Wait here." The innkeeper said. "Try not to make a scene. I'll go inside and talk to him."

Chres nodded to the innkeeper, who sighed and walked up to an old rundown brick house a few buildings away. Two men stood outside guarding the entrance. The innkeeper hesitantly approached the men and spoke them.

Chres watched apprehensively, worried that something might go wrong. At last one of the men went inside the house. The innkeeper stayed behind waiting patiently.

"Ferris." Chres said. "Now might be a good time to know what the symptoms of your insanity are."

After a minute or two, the guard came back out and nodded. The second guard padded down the innkeeper. Finding nothing, he let the man into the building.

"You do still know what they are, right?" Chres asked in a voice that was not too calm or stern. He looked Ferris in the eye, hoping this man had his wits about him. Whoever the person they were about to meet was, Chres had a feeling it would be trouble if Ferris lost it during the meeting.

The Five Senses

Plot Point

Mentioned @Jerkchicken@fetzen@13org

---

"The clock tower..." Smit said aloud. "Why the clock tower?"

Tayla simply shrugged. She wasn't concerned about why. Right now, all she was cared about was the chance to stick her blade in that pompous woman's cold heart. Before she could do that, however, she needed her team to get in position.

She waited impatiently, watching as her team spread out. She wanted to approach the tower from all angles, though in such a way so as to not tip the enemy off too quickly. She watched as one of the females on her team made her way towards the back of the tower. The woman stopped halfway to tighten the straps on her boots. She got to her feet soon after, and continued the rest of the way. The woman causally leaned against the tower's base. She shuffled her feet every now and then. Looking around apprehensively, as if waiting for someone else.

"It doesn't seem very wise." Smit continued with a shake of the head. "There's only one way in and out of the building. They are taking a huge risk going there."

Tayla didn't respond. Her attention was focused on the others. A man and a second woman arrived from a different direction. They joined the woman already positioned at the foot of the clock tower. Greeting each other and engaging in conversation.

To the north, she had three other men positioned at a table outside a tavern. They crowded around a game dice. Half full drinks in hand. In the east, stood a man preaching to others about the wonders of the Clan of Insight. Two female assistants at his side, approaching and engaging with the people passing by. To the south, a "beggar" sat on the streets. He looked to those who passed, hands outstretched. From the west, another three went about placing decorations celebrating the new month and it's associated sense.

And then there was Smit and herself. Standing southeast. Alone, at the mouth of an alleyway. An ancient oak tree shading them from the measly light shining out from behind an ever cloudier sky. Together, they watched from a distance. Fifteen people in total. She thought. Plenty enough to handle two magic users and the giant man with the crossbow.

"I wonder why they are taking such a risk." Smit pondered behind her. "Just what are they up to at the top of that tower?"

Tayla felt her heart pounding in anticipation. Everyone was in position. "Honestly Smit," Tayla said, "I don't really care."

Smit looked to her, frowning. She forced herself to not look away too quickly. She didn't like him looking at her like that. It always made her feel uncomfortable. Tayla took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

"You know what I am, Smit?" She asked, taking a few steps towards the tower. "I'm a doer." She reached into her pouches, grabbing the flavored cotton tufts inside. "I prefer doing rather than thinking too hard on any one thing." Tayla popped the tufts into her mouth and pushed them off to the side with her tongue. "You, however," she continued; her voice slightly muffled, "are a thinker. If you thought less and did more, then maybe Sightless Syella would give you a team and some of your own missions some day."

Smit chuckled softly. "I'm in no hurry." He said behind her. "You keep on doing, and I'll keep on thinking." Tayla shook her head at the man's words. 'A future, yours to make', he had told her. What sort of future was he making for himself?

She brushed away the thought and plowed on ahead. Smit tailed closely behind. Her approach was a signal to the rest. Now was the time to make their move.

One by one, each of the groups inched closer to the tower's base. The "decorators" came forward. weapons concealed in their baskets of flowers. The gamblers got up asynchronously. Fanning out, so as to not draw as much attention. The "preacher's" assistants each split up. One approaching Tayla's direction with a wave. The other moving earnestly towards the gambler closest to her. The preacher, still preaching, turned his back to the tower. He made grand gestures with his hands. A distraction from his backwards motion towards the tower.

The "beggar" was the only one who didn't move. That all changed with Tayla's passing. She swooped down and grabbed some of the beggar's earnings. The beggar, playing his part, yelled in outrage. Smit responded by shoving the beggar to the ground. Tayla walked on, ignoring the commotion. She counted the coins and stuffed them into her purse. She didn't look back. Even after the beggar got back to feet and proceeded to chase after them.

Slowly, everyone closed in on the tower. Tayla looked to Smit. The man caught her gaze, nodded and whistled. All acting immediately stopped. Props were dropped. Weapons drawn. Together, they rushed the building and kicked down the door...

The Five Senses

Chres Sansus

Interaction with @Typical @HokumPocus

---

The Innkeeper's face paled upon learning Ferris wielded crazed magic. Unlike the others, he appeared far more uneasy about this information.

"Where?" The innkeeper squeaked. His eyes widening till they looked like they might fall out. The innkeeper looked from Octavio to Chres in disbelief. Chres offered the man a shrug, which only made the innkeeper pale further.

He looked back to Ferris, wiped his brow and shook his head. Finally, he sighed. "Southside..." He said. The resignation thick in his voice. "I-I'll just.. I'll take you to him..." He walked away as if in a daze. Horror stories, involving Crazed killing a town's worth of people, running through his mind.

"Everything's fine. Everything's perfectly fine." The innkeeper muttered, reassuring himself. Chres could barely make out the words, as the innkeeper lead them Southside. "The sky is black. My shadow moves towards the light. Did that rock over there suddenly move half an inch to right? Yes... yes, it did. Perfectly normal! Just like the Crazed follow me aro- No, no, no... bad thoughts.... bad thoughts... Everything's fine! Everything is just... fine..."

They walked for a few minutes in silence. Chres did his best keep an ear out for trouble. As a bodyguard, it had been his job to survey his surroundings in order to spot trouble before it happened. He needed not worry so much about blending into the crowd. His only concern was to keep the caravan and his master safe from harm.

Things were different now. Chres was no longer a bodyguard, and the ones in control of this town were out there looking for him. Too much glancing about looked suspicious. Suspicion could draw unwanted attention. Unfortunately for Chres, this meant he was out of his comfort zone. Nevertheless, he did his best to remain aware of what was going on around them.

Chres looked to the innkeeper. The man seemed to have regained some color in his face. He had stopped muttering reassurances to himself for the time being. Instead, his focus seemed to be more on keeping the group off the main roads and on ignoring the Crazed wielder behind him.

Sil, sighed audibly. Something she did at times when bored. Getting to her feet, she back-flipped off Chres's head, and took flight. After a few laps around the group, she fluttered up to Chres's right side. Her figure level with his shoulder.

Where's a good puddle when you need one? She thought to Chres.

Chres smiled softly. Sil... He thought back.

Hmm? She replied, looking to Chres with a slight tilt of the head.

Why are you obsessed with puddles? He asked her.

To Chres's surprise, Sil scoffed at the question. Obsessed? She thought back. Obsessed?! First of all, obsessed? Ha! I don't even know what that means!

Chres stared at Sil flatly. Her arms were crossed. An unamused look upon her face. Are... are you upset with me? He asked, feeling slightly confused.

Second of all, She continued, disregarding Chres's question. can yoooooou do this? Sil transformed into her ferret form.

N-no? Chres responded, not quite following.

Sil transformed back and nodded as if satisfied. That's right! I didn't think so!

Chres arched an eyebrow. All this, because I asked you about puddles?

Aaaand third of all, she thought loudly. Eyes closed. Finger raised in the air. I don't appreciate- Sil's eyes shot open. Her thoughts stopping mid-sentence.

"Wait..." She said aloud. "Did you say puddle?"

Chres, mouth slightly agape, stared blankly at her. Shutting his mouth, he nodded slowly in bewilderment.

Sil gasped with excitement. "Puddles?! I love puddles!"

"Sil," Chres said, dumbfounded. "why don't you go play with Lynx?"

"Who?" She asked.

"Your friend, the horsey."

"Oh!" Sil said, pounding the bottom of her fist into her hand. "You Mr. Armadillo!"

Arma-what-now?

"Yes..." Chres sighed. "Go play with your friend, the... whatever you just called it."

Sil giggled and zipped off to go yank on Lynx's tail.

Chres shook his head. "The more I try, the less I understand her." He said to the others. He grabbed his flask of flavored water and took a small swig.

Swishing the water around in his mouth, he overheard the innkeeper reassuring himself again. Chres swallowed the water and looked to Ferris. "You must be use to this sort of thing." He said, nodding towards the innkeeper. "Doesn't seem very pleasant."

The Five Senses

Chres Sansus

Interaction with @Typical @HokumPocus

---

Chres arched an eyebrow upon learning of Ferris's ability. It had been a while since he last met an Augaisionist. He doubted Karina would appreciate the idea of a potential Crazed joining their ranks. He was not ignorant of the distrustful look she initially gave him after learning that he may have already been touched by Insight.

"Sounds like our 'friend' told you the gist of things." Chres said. "The others are at the clock tower, trying to send a message to the invading army's nearest camp. With any luck, they might be able to get us out of here without even needing to take out whatever this Seed is. If not, well our group right here is working on plan B.

"There's a group in the city who want to rid the town of the Cult. They call themselves The Watch. Our innkeeper friend, over there, knows a guy. The plan was to go meet with him, but... well... it seems the cult was able to recognize Octavio and myself."

The Five Senses

Plot Point

Mentioned @Jerkchicken@fetzen@13org

---

As the three made their way up the clock tower, their tail disappeared into a nearby tavern.

---

Tayla fidgeted impatiently with her Whittler's knife. Little by little, she chipped away at the block of wood in her hand. Shaping it into the form of the woman from the day before. Her strokes started smooth and precise. However, as the shape she desired began to emerge, her whittling became cruder. Her cuts less accurate.

Her mind was elsewhere. Away from the block of wood she cut away at. The fight with the woman replayed in her head. The memory consumed her. Filling her with anger and obsession.

She was out there somewhere. She mocking her. Laughing at her! 'Coward' was what she called Tayla. 'Pathetic' she had said.

Tayla's carving became erratic. Each cut chipping away larger chunks of wood. I AM NOT A COWARD! She screamed in her head.

Someone's hand lightly touched her shoulder. "Tayla..." Said a voice behind her. Tayla looked up towards the owner of the voice. It was Smit. "You'll hurt yourself." he said.

Frowning, Tayla looked down at the block of wood. In her anger, she had chipped away so much of the wood that her next cut would have surely nicked her thumb.

Tayla put down the knife. Shrugging off Smit's hand, she got to her feet and tossed the butchered block of wood off to the side. "I hate waiting." She said.

Smit smiled softly. It made Tayla feel anxious. What? Did she say something funny?

"You know," he said, "Sightless Vetius says waiting is the key to victory."

"Yeah? And where is Sightless Vetius now? Lounging about in the Shining Palace?" Tayla said dryly. "I wouldn't mind waiting either if I were him."

Smit dropped his smile, he looked around as if uncertain. "You really shouldn't speak poorly of Sightless Vetius." He said quietly. "If Sightless Nieffar overheard you..."

Tayla rolled her eyes. Typical Smit. A loyal dog through and through. Loyal, protective and boring. He followed Tayla wherever she went. It had been that way ever since she first joined the Clan.

She still remembered that night on The Broken Isles. She sat alone atop the Church of Insight, looking upon the Clan's home town. She had just arrived, but didn't really know why she came. She didn't belong there. She didn't belong anywhere. She was just Tayla, the broken girl. She had no home, no family. She had nothing.

He came from behind her and sat down a few feet away. They just sat there like that, saying nothing to each other. Finally she got up to leave.

"Where are you going to go?" He asked out of nowhere. She looked at Smit, confused.

"I've seen your like before. Syella often brings back people she found off the street. Most of them leave, but some, like me, stay." Smit turned to face her, looking at her for the first time. "You? You look like a runner."

Smit had been right. She had been planning on running. It annoyed her that he knew that. It frustrated her that he pinned her so well. "What does it matter to you what I do?" Tayla asked, not making any attempt to hide her annoyance.

Smit shrugged and looked away. "It doesn't." He said.

Strangely, Tayla felt let down by this answer. That feeling only served to frustrated her even further. She turned to walk away.

"But," He said behind her. "were you to stay, it could be a place for you to call home."

Tayla froze in place.

"A place where you can feel safe." He continued. "A place where you can finally feel like you belong." She felt naked and exposed. She did her best to hold back the tears.

"It would be a new beginning. The future, yours to make. That is why I stayed. That is why all of Syella's recruits stay."

Tayla ran, unable to tolerate his words any longer. She ran and ran till she could run no further. Leaning against a nearby wall, she struggled to catch her breath.

'It could be a place for you to call home.' His words lingered in her head. Tears streamed down Tayla's eyes. Why did she run? Why did she always run? She was sick of always running. Sick of always being weak.

'It would be a new beginning. The future, yours to make.' Tayla's breathing slowed. She looked up at the Distortion's night sky. Perhaps a new beginning wouldn't be so bad. A new beginning meant she didn't have to be that weak girl any more. A future. Hers for the making.

That was the night that Tayla didn't run. It was the night that Tayla held her ground. She remembered the surprised look on Smit's face when he saw her still there. That surprise quickly turned to a smile.

Smit had been by her side ever since. Even as she quickly rose up the ranks. When she started getting assigned missions, he would volunteer to come along. She remembered It made her uncomfortable having the man around her all the time. She never asked him to come, and yet on every mission he would be there. Ready and waiting to follow her command. He was there to bring her food on nights where see didn't eat. There to make a fire when she shivered in the cold. There to watch her back when the enemy was about to take her life.

Tayla shivered. She would have died yesterday were it not for Smit's interference. He was too nice. Too thoughtful. It made Tayla uneasy.

She didn't trust men. She didn't like the way they looked at her. She knew the evil of man. It would only be a matter of time till Smit revealed that same evil. All Tayla had to do was wait.

Tayla sighed, leaning against a wall. Oh how she hated waiting.

"Do you need more numbing oil?" Smit asked. Tayla looked to the man questioningly. "Your shoulder." He clarified. "Does it still hurt?"

Tayla glanced to her bandaged shoulder, realizing that she had been rubbing it. Unconsciously pressing against her wound from the previous day.

"It's fine." She said bluntly. Reluctantly, she slid her right hand down the length of her arm. She shook her head. He really was far too conscious of her needs.

The door, leading to the room, opened. One of the survivors from yesterday's battle walked in. "He's at the clock tower." He said. "Accompanied with the large one and the woman."

Tayla smiled. It seemed she would have the opportunity to kill the white haired woman after all.

An itch crawled up the back of her neck. 'Do not kill them.' Sightless Syella's words echoed in the back of her mind.

I won't. She thought to herself. I'm only going to kill one.

The Five Senses

Chres Sansus

Interaction with @Dusksong @HokumPocus

---

Chres instinctively drew the short sword, which he had taken from one of the cult members the previous day. Thinking the newcomer to be with the cult, Chres had nearly lopped the man's head off. That all stopped the moment the man slit the throat of one of their pursuers.

The man apparently knew their names. Another one then? Chres wondered, lowering his blade. He would have to ask for specifics later. For now, Chres wasn't about to complain.

He turned his attention to the remaining thugs. It seemed they had not taken well to the more even playing field. One of their numbers had taken to running rather than fighting. Unfortunately for him, Chres wasn't about to let the man get away and warn his friends.

Running towards the fray of battle, Chres called forth some of his stored body heat. The feeling of warm rushed from his back, down his legs and to the soles of his feet. Chres raise his right foot as if to run up a set of invisible steps. As Chres's foot moved downward, it connected with something solid.

A small floating platform had appeared beneath his foot, its size no bigger than Chres's own foot. It was a heat construct created using tempraision's Weaving technique. The platform glowed a dull red. Static. Unmoving.

The immobile nature of Woven heat constructs made the technique perfect for defense and utility purposes. However, unlike with Shaped constructs, the remaining heat in a Woven construct could not be retrieved after it's usefulness had expired.

Chres had used this technique during the previous day to form the set of stairs and platforms which the group used to escape the burning building. Back then, he had to account for the other people using his platforms. That meant he had expended a greater amount of heat to make the constructs larger and longer lasting.

This time was different. Today, all Chres had to worry about was himself. As such, he used only the minimum amount of heat needed to give the constructs the size and lifetime he required to effectively push off them.

Chres ran up into the air, Weaving a new platform each time he needed something solid to land his feet on. Behind him, he left a set of ascending platforms. Their glow dissipating into the air mere moments after being left behind.

Chres stopped his climb above the fight, positioning himself high enough to get a clean shot off the runner. Sheathing his short sword, Chres pulled out his dagger and flung it at the man. The dagger connected, wedging itself deep into the man's upper back. The thug stumbled from the pain. Falling to his side on the ground.

Immediately, Chres dove off his platform. Reaching into his stores of heat, he Wove another construct in the shape of pole leading to the ground below. Hugging the pole with both arms and legs, Chres slid down it with ease. As his feet hit the ground, he released the construct and let it dissipate into the air.

Chres had intended to chase after the runner and finish him off, but was instead faced with a dilemma. Taking notice of the new threat from behind, one of the remaining thugs had turned to face Chres. Meanwhile, the runner was getting back to his feet. Chres tsked as the thug facing him thrust his blade towards Chres's exposed side.

Chres jumped off to the side, avoiding the blade. He then Shaped a small shield strapped to his left arm. Swinging his arm out wide, he knocked aside the thug's follow up and countered with his own attack. Chres thrust his right hand towards the man's heart, Shaping a small blade in his hand before making contact with the thug's body. The Shaped blade lodged itself deep in the man's chest. With quick a twist of the wrist, the thug dropped to the ground dead.

Their usefulness having expired, Chres released his Shaped heat constructs to prevent further depletion of his heat stores. Calling the constructs remaining heat back into his body, he began to Compressing it while adding the necessary heat needed to form another Compressed ball of energy. The runner was on the move again and had started calling out for help.

Chres hurled the compressed energy in the runner's direction. Making contact with his back, the construct burst in a blast of energy and knocked the man out cold. Only one of thugs remained standing; engaged in battle with the newcomer. The thug was holding his ground, but not by much. Chres could tell that this newcomer was far more skilled with a blade.

Turning away from the man, Chres approached the knocked out runner. They were far enough away from the Market for the runner's cries to not have been overheard. However, Chres knew better than to lean too heavily on that assumption. They would need to leave this place shortly.

Removing the dagger from the man's back, Chres swiftly slit the man's throat with the weapon. He then sighed. Nearly half of his stores of body heat had been depleted from this fight alone. He had hoped he would not need to use another bout of Compression. After all, one use alone wasted an hour's worth of stored heat. Unfortunately, the runner's shouts called for urgency. If they ended up in more skirmishes like this, Chres was going to need to don some head wear to get a small boost in his heat stores. He had not come to this town expecting to fight for his life.

Wiping his dagger on the dead man's shirt, He immediately began replenishing his stores of body heat. A minor chill swept through him as his body. The feeling of his body heat filling his stores. Chres paid it no mind. He had become use to the feeling long ago.

Chres began scavenging through the dead man's belongings. He found a pouch of coins and a few knives. Chres pocketed the coins and stashed the knives in his boots. He may not have come to this town prepared for a fight, though with a few more skirmishes like this, he would be.

Chres rose to his feet, as the sounds of fighting ceased behind him. "Now then..." he said, turning to face the newcomer. "Let's find a place to talk."

---

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm..." Sil hummed. The familiar had taken interest in the newcomer. She fluttered a foot away from the man's face. Leaning forward, hands clasped behind her back, she stared intently at the man. Looking from his right eye to his left, and back again. Eventually, she straightened her back and gave the man an innocent smile.

"You have silly eyes." She said happily. She giggled to herself. Fluttering off to perched herself comfortably atop Chres's head.

Chres had his back to the newcomer and was peering out the side of a shattered window. Led by the Innkeeper, the group had taken cover in a nearby abandoned building. There they waited, making sure that they had not drawn the attention of any additional cult members.

"Thank you." Chres said without looking at the man. "My name is Chres, and the richly clad man over there is Octavio... Though-" Chres turned his head slightly to make eye contact. "-you already knew that, didn't you?"

The Five Senses

Yet another long post, but me thinks I did good on this one.