Sutoratosu

Sometimes, one knows from the tension in the room that they should just... leave. Before things escalated any further. Sometimes, one could just sense the fury, spite, or simple exasperation practically radiating off another person so strongly that it was if they were choking. Well, as Lucille found it, that was relatively hard to do, when the same prescence making you feel as if you'd best leave before you die, was inside of your own head. Even though the initial disdain had since faded, the traces were still there. Partially from her own frustration of having taken this long to get it right, but mostly from the part of herself she could still feel stir on occasion, much like a dragon that had just awakened from millennia of slumber. Still, whether she could escape the source of the feeling or not, she wanted something to take her mind off the matter. For a while at least. She found the perfect excuse in her beasts. As had been proven already from the engagements they'd been in... not all of them were as useful in this particular scenario as another. Do had raw ferocity, strength, and his breath on his side. Brachus was a boon to restoring wounds. Zoidberg was literally a peice of living armor, and Vera... well she couldn't fight at all, but she was useful for reconnaissance and relaying messages. That left two who had been rather... lacking during this expedition. Astra, and the Chameleon. The little Dragon... she had great potential, yes, massive. Easily greater than all of the other's put together. But she'd need time to grow into it. A very...very long time. And with the coming battle, well... Lucille felt it was perhaps best if she stay somewhere safer, when it came. The Chameleon though... he could fight just fine, and get away if necessary, but... she needed a bit of time away from the constant reminder of Soma. And so it was that the girl and her cabal found themselves deftly picking their way through the woods back towards the bus. They passed Jun on the way, and though the woman waved, Lucille either did not register the gesture (for obvious reasons by this point) or simply did not care. Astra and Brachus were much more friendlier, at least acknowledging the woman with a growl as they passed. They found the vessel still there, unmolested. As she entered, someone saw fit to wave at her for the second time in less than that many hours. She simply starred blankly at Tattletale for an awkward moment, eyes not seeing anything, before finally explaining things. It seemed the crewmate had no problem taking the Dragon and Chameleon off her hands for a while, though she did bring up a valid point about food for them later. Up till now, Lucille had simply let them go out and hunt for their own meals, though with the rampant amount of bizarre creatures- living and dead alike -running about the place, and the fact she wouldn't be directly bound to and monitoring them... Tattletale brought up a decent point. In the end, Lucille figured she could get some food from the tavern and bring it to them later that evening. After making a mental note to get the crewmate another Goat-sandwich, she left the clearing and headed back to town... Lucille deposits Astra and the Chameleon into minion crew slots onboard the bus! She regains 4 bonds! ((The Minion Crew section can now be found on the "Ship" page of the master sheet, for those curious)) The dragon still stirred. She couldn't ignore it for long, she knew it. It had to awaken soon, and even now she felt like she briefly lost parts of her own cognition when its rumblings grew particularly loud. Lost some, and felt that of another trickle in, in their place. But just what, pray tell, awaited when time was up? She didn't know. And part of her didn't want to know. ...but that was only the part that had taken to being mortal.

R6, bait a swordsman

She waits until they've ascended the stairs and entered the top floor. Only when she was certain they were out of earshot does she respond with, "I honestly don't trust him either, Myrd. But I figure- might as well play along. For now. I... did sense something, once the fighting stopped. Still too faint right now for me to put a direction on it or even tell what it might be, aside from what's in these papers, but it's definitely something. He's not lying about that part at least. Speaking of which..." She takes the papers she swiped downstairs and begins to examine them, as she has the Anima Spirits begin to poke around the area, look for anything that doesn't sit well with them or seems particularly peculiar in it's architectural design. Slightly crooked candle holders on the wall, a particular book that would shift place but was impossible to remove from the shelf, the whole nine yards for that cliched secret passage crap. If they found nothing, she'd next order them to begin sweeping the room for any sign of overtly magical signatures.

"Well, this outta be interesting..." was all Cree had to say on the matter as he leaned back in his chair, arms folding. Of course, in his native lingo, 'Interesting' meant that was gonna be anything but a simple milkrun, and that things were probably gonna go wrong six ways to sunday. He was more than used to those type of engagements though- things tended to get messy in space. Especially when you were going in blind to begin with.

"... I see. Interesting." It was all she had to say as the circle fired up. Zoidberg tossed the blood into the boundary, and she immediately went to work... ...to say she was scowling by the end of it was an understatement. Not at all what she'd been shooting for. What use was this going to be? They needed something that could easily desiminate the toxin into the air at key positions, not some piss ant little pine bush that only unleashed it's payload when the bristles were bro- "Calm down..." She mutters to herself. She didn't know where the surge of anger came from, felt familiar though. As if whatever part of her had been guiding these creations by instinct lately had lashed out in outrage over such a failure. In all honesty though, she still wasn't entirely sure this thing was a separate entity also hitching a ride. But just now it had certainly felt like it's rage had been hers. She took a moment to take stock of the situation. It was useless in it's current form yes, but perhaps if she could... make it grow large enough, push the envelope beyond 4 ft, make the bushes thicker at their apex... it could at least be used to hinder the Goblins during their march. Force them to either go through or around them, and well... the latter wasted time. The former... she wasn't sure what the former would do. But it would do something to them. She recalled last night's dream. Thinking back to how the other girl's cells had called out to her, she focused, trying to hear a similar resonance. Soon enough she found it, and reached out to adjust it ever so slightly... No. NO. She realizes almost too late what she's doing as the thing begins to form a welt on part of its branches, alarm bells screaming from deep inside her to stop this before it becomes an even greater fiasco. Reluctantly, she listens, letting the call of the cells fade away as the ambiance returns. The welt is still small, and luckily, on a relatively minor portion of the plant. With a quick utterance, a blade of sound safely removes the offending peice, casting it into the river. She thinks it's fine, but an idea pops into her mind: What if they had been her, all over again? What if the dream had gone precisely as the first time? It she could do something as complex as right the defects that caused that girl's own body to attack itself, why was something as simple as this beyond her reach? "..." She's not scowling anymore. Arminius can see it. The look on her face goes beyond mere anger, to an emotion almost primal in it's ferocity. The silver of her irises has changed to draconic, emerald slits that burn with the light of a small sun, though they still lack pupils. Her canines and nails are far more pronounced as she shakes her head, muttering something in a language the red headed man cannot possibly understand. The very air itself seems to ripple at her words though. It only lasts for about a minute though, before she takes the failed experiment and begins to head back to the village. Arminius manages to catch her eyes return to normal as she passes him by. The ripple fades as she speaks "I have work to do." And like that, she leaves the area. Her beast stare at each other in confusion, but eventually they too follow suit. The only one left is Do, and soon enough he lands and lets Finger's off beside the man. The next moment he takes off again, following his master and the others. *************************** By the time the sun sits at it's highest point, Lucille has constructed another circle, on the outskirts of the village. It's already blazing with it's pearly light, and her mind works furiously as she sorts out one genetic defect after another. How so many things went wrong, she does not know. But it disgusts her nonetheless, more than she thought a simple failure could, more than she thought it should honestly. But that part of her was still there, still pushing. Whenever she began to slack, to think that maybe it was good enough, the drive came anew. More fuck ups highlighted, more glaring than the last. And the cycle of disgust, furious work, and petering out would begin again. For hours, she stayed like that. Untl finally, the last cycle began to wind down, and this time she didn't feel as though she wanted to shred the pissant creation. For her troubles, she'd gotten a nice a tension headache, a pulse that even now would not die down, and a specimen that would actually work for her purposes: Tentatively, she tries to reach out again... this time she listens closer, pays more attention to the subtle differences between plant and animal cells that had, as far as she could tell, been the main cause of... that literal cancer inducement hours ago. She feels something stir. Something grow impatient. It does not have more hours to spend on this. It does not feel this project should've taken hours to begin with. And it seizes her hand mentally and guides it through the process as if Lucille were nothing but a toddler before it. And perhaps in some ways, she was, given... within just minutes, she manages to make the vine lash out at empty air, coiling and writhing like a snake agitated. Within several more, she manages to extend and decrease its length by amplifying the rate of growth or stunting it and causing the necessary number of cells to die off and their components be cannibalized by those that remain. She releases her hold after only 5 minutes. The vine becomes inert once more. ... ... But the lingering thrum of energy at her finger tips feels as alien as ever.

"..." Needless to say, the report peaked her interest. Ever her father's daughter, she quickly picked up a few more pages from the floor near her, glancing over them before moving for the stairs, "Alright then, sure... Secret Passages. Yeh, I might know a thing or two about those..." And she knew with nigh certainty where these supposed passages would probably lead...

"Uh huh..." She slowly edged the rapier free of it's sheath, taking a look around the place. Was it some type of small chapel? No, no... there was a distinct lack of Icons to the Goddess, or an altar. Or even basic seating for a congregation. She reckoned it could've been the town hall instead. Without taking her eyes off the stairs, she snapped her fingers and a miniscule wind blew the paper nearest her into the air, where she deftly snatched it up and glanced at the text "Just what is this place, out of curiosity? And uh... what, pray tell, should we be looking for specifically?"

"Rhrhrhrhrhrrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrhrrrrrrrrrrr..." Both the girl and the wyvern growled with the uttmost disdain as the ranged attacks fell against their flank. Already agitated by how close they'd come to downing their prey only for her to escape, the arrows and bolt of fire only served to further exasperate things. Despite her wounds, Tsidin tried to will Kayut further as the fury took her, her lance gripped so tightly she might break it at any moment... but still not as tightly as when she'd been at full strength. "Krrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..." The drake cautioned. He was powerful, yes. But she was weakened, too weakened to fight as she once had. Charging forward now would do nothing but bring misfortune onto their own selfs. "..." He can feel it radiating off of her. The primal drive to finish the hunt, the single minded, tunnel visioned pursuit of her prey. It takes a good few moments of him fixing her with a stern look, refusing to charge so foolishly, before she finally comes out of it enough to accept the reality of things "...Fine. They dead either way." With that, she turned to winston "Window of opportunity closed. We fall back for now, regroup wi-" She may not have been able to finish the peg, but it didn't mean the Horseman couldn't. During her and Kayut's silent debate, he already had spotted a position from which the pegasus rider was still vulnerable, rode to it, and by the time Tsidin had spoken up, the captain was already sending a hatchet to finish off the rider. "...." She would remember that. She'd remember it well. Kayut glared at the spectacle as well, but eventually managed to convince Tsidin to just... fall back as planned. She unstoppered the vulnerary once they'd gotten far enough, angrily downing it. Tsidin falls back to H5, Vulns herself Winston rides to J6, Hatchets the Peg rider, cantos to H6

"I do not know how regularly the attacks have been. But for all we know, they may be preparing to march on the town even as we speak. The sooner we have gathered and see Typhan-knee, the better." The Knight Commander turns back to the Flower Priest, "Speaking of which my good man- that is a crucial peice of intelligence. You mentioned the large battle that occured some months ago, but how many attacks have they launched thus far in total, and how frequently have they been since Typhan-Knee appeared and turned the tide?"

"We've been discussing the current situation in regards to the Cultist attacks," Stellio responds, not even a little surprised when the girl speaks. Had he known she was there this whole time? Perhaps, it was hard to tell though "The Flower God who has aided this settlement is named Typhan-Knee, and he hails from an unknown place. He has given these people pieces of himself to serve as weapons against the cult, but it seems to have weakened him. I suspect that whatever he is, he may be like us, and we might be able to assist both him and the townsfolk. To that end, I've managed to secure an audience." He turns and looks directly at Freya. When he does, the girl can tell plain as day there is something about all this that has the knight on guard "We'll need to gather up everyone and meet here before we do. I trust you'll be able to assist me with that?"

The world blared with light, sound, and pain as Maya got back to her feet. With a shakey breath she grabbed hold of one of the Sol's arms, before using her staff to steady herself. A whispered thanks, barely loud enough to be audible, was all she could muster as her hand went to the gash still in her side, threads of light weaving their way in and out of the wound as the flesh was made new. "By the goddess, what were you thinking maya!?" ah yes. Freyl. He'd been screaming before as well, hadn't he? Yes, she could recall it a bit clearer- at first he'd been shouting orders, locations. He'd been the only reason she'd managed to step out of the way of the swordsman and duck under the javelin after the Axe had torn through her robes and ribs. At times, it had even seen like he'd taken part of the evasion into his own hands, given the subtle sensation of hands shoving her just enough to get out of the way. Not that it mattered in the end though- for not even he had enough energy to keep her from tripping on the last maneuver, or to change the course of the javelin that soon found its home in her gut. After that there'd been nothing but screaming, shouting. And she had felt his fear roll over her in waves... even if what she senses now is anger, rage even. "I.... I suppose I... miscalculated..." "Miscalculated? Miscalculated!? That's the understatement of the damn century! Get out of there, now- next time there might not be anything left of you for them to heal! Ya have to remember your own safety too, ya know... can't help any of them if you're dead. Gaaah, and where the fuck is dragon boi when he was actually needed!?" Her eyes drift to ecquis, across the field. In all honesty it looked like they had a mess all their own to deal with, over there. "Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit." "Look, just... just please... get to some cover alright? Or for the love of the goddess, at least stay behind someone this time. I can only do so much for you... just helpin' you get out of the way pushed me to my limits." "Right, sorry... I suppose with... how everything used to be, I didn't expect... nevermind. I'll take greater care, I promise." "You better. One of us has to stay alive, afterall..." Taking the spectre's advice to heart, she wandered over to Meredith, weakly placing a hand on the woman's armored back and willing the light to channel through her finger tips. Within just a few seconds, there wasn't a scratch left on the soldier. E12, Heal Meredith back to full (Benevolence PS procs)

It has taken many hours to put this sheet together. But I put much love, suave, and space-cowboy aptitude into each of those hours. I regret nothing about what is to follow... Pilot Interceptor

"Dear gods your world has gone full Scenario Alpha... That's... Reassuring. I guess?" She can't but think back to that old lecture, the one Gen, Leewald and Leon had taken her so long ago. Scenario Alpha. Proposed by lord Alhem Meir, some alarmist mage who'd lived back during the old age. The foundation of the generations long fear of Arganorian Thaumists for about as long as they'd known how to synthesize and tinker with flesh. The day when lax policies and rampant ambition to create ever more perfect lifeforms would result in a, or several, race(s) of Sapient entities which would ultimately go on to destroy their creators and take the world for themselves. Either that, or they would assimilate the inferior men of Arganor into their own genetic stock over a course of several generations, and the same ultimate effect would come to pass. What he described... it wasn't quite the same, but damn if it wasn't close enough. "And uh, pray tell, the children of these.... let's call them 'feedings'. What are they like? More monster, or man? Though I've an even more important question come to think of it; where did these monsters come from? Are they someone's creation, perhaps this 'Demon King' you spoke of?"

Do takes off soon afterwards, leaving just her and the others there as Arminius calls out in jest. "I'm sorry, what?" even she was taken aback by that uh... that little tid-bit. A slight chill runs down her spine, as she tries to shake her head clear of those implications "Uh-huh...I see... then. Is uh... is that a habit of hers? Wanting to...ride things? and people." She takes the cup of blood and gives it to Zoidberg to hold, the lobster gingerly scuttling over to a nice clear patch of dirt. Part of her is suddenly a bit more worried about the cat, and takes a moment to order a relay report. The response comes back nigh instantly as the drake swoops several meters overhead, roaring with the goblin on his back. All clear... for now. She lets it go for the moment and reaches into her bag, taking out her cane and going to work on the sigil "Actually, speaking of which... you have several more like her, don't you? I sensed what you did after we killed that...giant...eye thing. Do all of them hold the same... inclinations?" Why the actual fuck was she asking this? She couldn't even answer it herself, except for, well... she had to admit, some small part of her was morbidly curious, both of whatever the hell this man had been doing to acquire these servants this whole time, and if she needed to take special care to keep Do at a safe distance in the future.

A certain pigeon coos from on high. She descends from the heavens and lands directly on lucille's head, dropping a small earthenware cup into the girl's hands. It felt rough, plain, no change in texture that told of complex paint schemes. Probably just the first thing the pigeon had found laying around. Either that or she stole it from the barkeeper in the tavern. Actually, considering how quickly the bird got the job done, that's the most likely explanation. Lucille didn't care though, she'd deal with it's return later. Lucilles holds the small cup out for the goblin to take "Here, put it in this."

"pffffffffffffffffft...is that it?" Lucille chuckles at the demand "please, that's a trifle, I was expecting something far more outlandish- Do!" The cat-dragon responds without hesitation, diving into the river before jumping right back just a few moments later. The water coating his coarse fur flash freezes as an aura of cold briefly envelopes him, and he spreads his wings out towards the sun, body glittering with countless scales of ice, sculpted in such a way that his physique is nigh indistinguishable from a full-blooded drake. He saunters back to the girl, circling around fingers as he does. "Alright then, how about this- I need a sample of a goblin's physiology; don't particularly care what it is. A bit of blood, some fingernails, a tuft of hair, hell, even something as a bit of spit in a cup would suffice. You give up a sample for me, and Do here will let you take him for a ride. Isn't that right, Do?" The cat Ice Drake gives a little roar in agreement, guttural and befitting of a draconic beast. "So... with those conditions out of the way, do we have a deal?"

"...." She has an almost instinctual feeling she's going to hate whatever is about to come out of the man's mouth next. But like it or not, their gene sequence is crucial to acquire if she had any intention of spawning a creature to hunt them all down one by one, or turn the very environments they'd have to trek through into specifically toxic hell holes that would cull all but the weakest among them... "...and just what would that be, pray tell?"

"Had a lot to think about." she answers. She closes the rest of the distance and kneels upstream of Arminius, cupping some water in her hands and splashing it on her face "Something I wasn't proud of. Something I never thought I'd get another chance at. One that I'm glad I did though." as she washes the dried tears and the salt away, it's easy for him to see how red her eyes are. She stays quiet for a few moments more, as she finishes wiping it all away. Before long she stands again, hair hanging in dripping wet clumps, but seeming to have few damns to give about it. "Traps won't be enough to stop them, you know. The way things sounded, as prepared as they are to storm this place and kill everyone, walls probably won't do the job either. No... no... I think what they need, is to suffer a blow so debilitating, there's no chance for them to recover in time. Their little march from the sea needs to become a living hell that few of them will survive. Hmph, it's almost ironic really. I have more than a few ideas how to do just that- but I need a genetic sample from them to do it. And I can't get any until the buggers actually get here, and it'll already be too late..."

Lucille is still lying there, as the morning rays peircing through the window. Though they fall directly on her eyelids, she doesn't both trying to turn over or pull the blanket over head. She knows that moment is gone. She knows she will likely never have it again. Yet she clings to its remnants regardless. Refuses to let it fade into nothing, as easily motes of dust swept passing through the morning rays. Whether it was a dream, a phantasm across the very fabric of space and time itself, or something even more bizarre entirely, she doesn't care. So tightly does her heart clutch that alternate route, as if by some massive feat of desperation she can substitute it for the past she has already known. As if it can undo what was already writ in stone and sealed by folly. But alas, it is not so. Eventually, she lets go of it, resigning herself to the fate she has already chosen- for both of them. But dreaded it though she did, much to her surprise... the memory of the dream does not fade once she does. The touch of her skin is still all too real. The sound of her heart. The thrum of the power that she summoned from... somewhere to save her. She still frets thought, for the next few minutes. Afraid it was too good to be true. Afraid that if she got up from this spot, tossed covers off and went about her day, this precious little moment of time would be gone, and she'd never find it again. And then, for the briefest of moments... something tosses her hand. grabs it tightly, holds it. Nothing is there, no one is there, she knows it. Yet it's precisely as how she did. The same reassurance through nothing more than a gentle squeeze- gentle strength. Strength that for all the power a god could wield, she still somehow lacked. But it was her strength that let her ponder that maybe, just maybe... she had indeed saved Avada. That she had made it right with her. Or at least, some version of her, somewhere, somehow. In a place and a time she may never know again. Perhaps this was her farewell... and somehow, Lucille felt that she'd never be able to forget what occured last night, if she could've even fathomed wanting to forget. "Mreow?" Something course and cold brushes her hand. The cat drake purs softly; she can sense his unease a mile away. With a scratch behind the ear, she tries to comfort him "I'm... I'm fine. Well, I will be. Don't worry." He withdraws as she gets up. She can feel the trails long dried tears have left, and she doesn't imagine she looks that well, despite her words. The thought of tidying up just a little comes to her; there was no point going for a full bath in the river, she had already cleaned off the grime and blood of yesterday's battles after she'd made Zoidberg. But a few splashes of water to the face will probably help to clear her head regardless. "She wants me to keep going... and she's right. I've probably wasted more than enough time already." __________________________________________________________________________________________________ Before long, the sound of the river draws closer. She looks for no spot in particular, simply for the one closest to town- though the moment she manages to pinpoint it from the sound of shifting rapids, she realizes that she's not alone. She stops about 30 paces from the source of the splashing, recognizing the general sound map as humanoid. If she weren't blind, perhaps she would've been blushing at the situation. As it was though, there wasn't even a hint of embarrassment on her face as she called out... "I see someone's up early." a figure of speech, of course, given well....

"I see," this was, quite literally, all the confirmation his suspicions needed. Seemed to be some massive variety of golem- an order of magnitude unseen in his world, from the sounds of it. He stroked his chin for a few moments, thinking this through... "I believe my companions and I may be able to help you with this Cultist issue. And possibly help Typhan-knee as well- though I am much less certain of the latter. regardless though, in either case I feel we would need to speak with the god directly before we are able to settle on a concrete course of action. He may well provide a missing prospective here, and there are yet questions I have that likely only he can answer. Would you be willing to arrange such an audience with him in exchange for our aid? With yourself and any guards you feel needed in attendance, of course."

Sleep grips the progenitor tightly. Somehow, a blanket has found it's way over her curled form. "Woopwoopwoop..." A certain crustacean utters as it lifts her head with one claw, and positions the pillow from the bed under it with another. The others have already curled up in their respective places around her, drifting off as well. Only zoidberg still walks among the woke at this late hour. And only zoidberg sees as she begins to stir in her sleep, muttering, "A...Avada... no...how.... no, I...I..." Tossing and turning, her breathing becomes more ragged by the minute. Only he is awake to sense the fear and confusion surging from her. With one claw, he gently pats her head, for as much good as it will do... .... "Wooop?" She's... smiling? Despite the tears rolling down her cheek, soaking the pillow, yes, Zoidberg is not mistaken. She truly does smile. The lobster pulls his claw away, satisfied that whatever nightmare it was has passed. Soon enough, he curls up and joins the others in their slumber.

"Hm, I see. That leaves... quite a bit to think about then," Lucille says. Underground portions? Well it wasn't exactly surprising- she'd already suspected there was a large part of that keep they'd missed, what with side tracked. Most of the obvious ways down below had been blocked, but... another expedition there, one that searched a bit harder and didn't have to worry about escorting a hostage back of fighting a giant spider, could probably reveal an alternate route. What truly peaked her curiosity was these... sky islands though, "That's all I have to ask for now. Thank you for your time," And with that, she nods, turns towards the inn/bar, and leaves. ************************************** Back in her room, the beasts fan out, lounging on the bed or the floor, or any raised furniture they can fit atop. Lucille herself sat on the floor against the foot of the bed, knees pulled to her chest, eyes closed, ears wide open. The noise of the physical realm soon falls away, replaced by... something else. As if she's in another time, another place entirely. Another body entirely. There's a burst of synesthesia, a rush of voices. The same noise from before is there, serving as the backdrop to the argument. Though her beasts were all around her, in that moment she could sense 2 prescences, and 2 only... The voices fade, the presence fades. The only thing that remains is the noise. And as lucille sits there, in silence, trying to listen deeper into the bizarre, shifting tonal architecture to find it's source, she realizes... This world, it is not it. It was never it. The noise is her. And she is the noise. Each and every chord, it starts in her core, resonates throughout her entire being, and finally escapes outward into the world beyond... The surge of memories long past and the realization soon prove enough to exhaust her, her ears dulling to the supernatural frequencies, head lulling to the side, conscious thought quickly slipping.

"Ah yes," lucille nodded, "The guide told me of the old kingdoms and how the people resided under three noble families, though he wasn't quite certain about what exactly caused people to begin to flee the isles... or what killed those who remained. You've already answered that though, concerning the whole... summoning. If you could tell me more about the old civilization though, I would greatly appreciate it; specifically what type of devices and magic they wielded at their height, and where we might find the remnants of those artifacts to use in the siege..." She pauses for a moment, thinking of something... "And...well. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't concerned; what drove them to summon such twisted powers into this world? I.... we found the barrier holding back the Corruption up north. That was you, wasn't it? The others, they seem to only realize the surface of the threat, but..." She gestures to the variety of beast wandering around her- Do cleaning his paws as usual, Astra and Brachus play fighting, the chameleon giving zero fucks, the snake coiled and sleeping, Zoidberg protectively at her heels, wooping "we sensed it. We felt it at the deepest parts of our beings. Whatever caused that type of disruption has no right to exist in this world... or any, for that matter."

A bird with feathers of polished steel sits perched on the eve of one of the houses, picking at her feathers. As the new arrival asks something though, the bird sees fit to hop down from the roof, flapping her wings a few times and landing on her head. No sooner than Vera does, does Rivers begin to hear a voice... coming directly from the bird's mouth. Yes. It's mouth. Like a parrot. "I don't know what you mean exactly," The bird speaks to her in it's high, cooing voice "but if its elemental properties, it depends on the creature. Most of them don't seem to have any obvious ones, only the particularly strong ones like the Ice Spider, or the ones that have been twisted by the foul energies plaguing this place."

"I see..." The knight mutters, stroking his chin. One last glance at the weapons and the case they're held in, and he's quite certain that they're probably the same variety of highly advanced fusils and bombs they were shown and given by the lad named Vitor. Even now at least one person in their party still carried one, if he recalled correctly. The mention of this god supposedly coming out of nowhere and then not conforming to what was apparently the normal rules of divinity for this world, only further supported his current theory... "Typhan-Knee...you say that he brought these relics to you, yes? By.... taking pieces of itself? Pray tell, what does he look like; can you tell me about when he first appeared to your people?"