act complete Angelcynn: The Myrcian Conflict - Act 3 Reunion

[Dandragon]

"Wh-...Okay old man. I'd appreciate you not talk about my mercenaries like that. Anyways, if you could show us the way, that'd be helpful." He fold his arms. Serge didn't need any perverted old guys talking about those who worked under him in such a way, especially if he was going to get business or be a respectable guild...named after a currently dead one. Maybe it was time to think of a new name...

[Vestige]

Alain approached the messy scene with caution, taken aback by what he was seeing. Sir Emmet was there, his staff covered in blood. Lady Claire was there, collapsed on the floor with an arrow in her leg, and unsurprisingly covered in blood. Scuttle was there as well, and by now the pattern was obvious. Though Alain had never spoken to Scuttle, but he immediately recognized her as the wild fashionista from the meeting room days prior, who had gone with Owen, Malaphar, and some of the others to retrieve another vial. She had apparently gone missing for a time after Malaphar's outburst, but she was here now looking slightly better off than Claire but not by much.

"What happened here? What's going on?!" he asked, his eyes darting between both parties. Claire, Emmet, and Cassandra made up the one side, and Scuttle was on the other. "Did someone attack you three, or..." he trailed off, stepping forward. Or, was the guilty party already in their midst? He wasn't from Wyke, and there was nobody he was traveling with that he knew on any sort of personal level. In this situation perhaps that would be a good thing. He wouldn't be making any biased judgments. But on the other hand, he wouldn't be able to tell who was lying, and who wasn't, based on their word alone.

He breathed a heavy sigh, releasing some of his built up tension. Days prior was their ordeal with Malaphar--surely this was nothing compared to that.

-:-

His eyes were fixated on the woman in front of him. The longer he looked at her the more out of place she seemed, and the more Alain felt like he had become the unwitting accomplice of a poorly budgeted theatrical. Still, despite Scuttle's unassuming appearance, he kept his hand furtively on the tome within his robes. He knew better. He'd learned to know better. They hadn't exchanged words, never even a set of pleasantries, but their lives were woven by the same thread. There was a time where they both lived like rats on the street, familiar with the stench of rot and decay. There was a time when they cobbled for any scrap of food they could find, and kept wary of any shadows that passed them by. There was a time where they knew death as a neighbor. For Alain that time was over, and his wounds had since closed, faded, but not forgotten.

But Scuttle was bleeding anew.

If only he knew.

[Xinnidy]

"...You are correct." The accuracy with which the woman spoke set Owen more at ease, dropping his dignified stance to stare vaguely at what he could make of her hidden face.

The answers were about as expected, but there was a silver lining that Owen didn't offend by grasping. "I see... an unconditional link." He repeated the Seer's words, coming to a quick conclusion and nodding in agreement.

"I understand. I will speak to them, in that case." The prince bowed in thanks --it was perhaps a gesture not too widespread in their culture, Owen wasn't quite sure himself where he learned it, but the mostly-foreign act of humility and thanks had always left an impact on the prince. Humility was a virtue their country needed most, in his mind, as long as the strength to protect themselves was there as well.

"Celia the Seer. If you excuse my hasty departure, I'll return in due time." The prince stood upright again, looking a last time, puzzled. Her final words had a weight he couldn't ignore, almost ominous. My inherited fate, huh? It could mean his kingdom, it could perhaps even mean more, depending on what his father had been hiding from him.

It could mean all of Angelcynn, or even beyond that. Beyond Malaphar's world.

"Thank you, I'll keep it in mind." With a final glance, Owen turned back to where he came, leaving through the Shack's entrance and meeting eyes with the Sun outside. It was easy to forget the shade was only prominent in that room, that hour of the day.

An unconditional link... I have no doubt in me it's Adele. But that does raise one question. He turned his head to scan the Magonsean surroundings, quickly letting out a sigh. If I were the heiress to the Herman house, out in a no man's land to protect the prince and princess of her country, where would I be now?

The marketplace, as filled with people as it could be, would give him the better chance to meet someone from his group, which could possibly lead to Adele, so that's where Owen walked towards.

Edited October 12, 2016 by Xinnidy

[Jotari]

"The bard" Emmet muttered. Skulker? Skutlet? Scuttle? Skittles! Yes that was it. He glanced down at Claire. "Lady Bennet is a fool but she's not selfish. She fears the vial. Too much so to go running away in the middle of bandit land." And yet...Why isn't she attacking? I am unarmed, surely she can see that. Suddenly Lady Cassandra was by his side checking Claire. The presence of another, hopefully armed, person reassured him greatly. He kept his stave posed like a weapon until the princess urged him to help. Not taking his eyes of Skittle, he nodded slowly and lowered himself to the ground. Before healing Claire he took the vial from her. It wasn't hard to find. It seems she had been reaching for it before she lost consciousness. He held up the elixir for the bard to see. "I don't believe you, but I won't judge you on my assumptions alone. For now I will take this. Prince Owen can decide who is to blame in this matter." He pocketed the vial and began healing Claire.

[riariadne]

"No, that was perfectly interesting to me," Sidney reaffirmed. "I'm from Raewald... you're right that Engel is seen as something of a divine overlord there. So I was always taught the wicked are to suffer for their acts. So even when I've done wrong, and I'm not proud to admit how much I have, trying to find ways to make things okay has always been in the back of my mind." She sat down next to the older woman. "Lately I've just found it hard to know what truly is doing good or not... I've done things that usually seem wicked, but it's to help a cause I think is just. Is that foolish to try and justify, then? Should I just be accepting of the situation I am in, and that of the others around me?"

[Terrador]

A MOOncalf's Temptation

Angus' head snaps to Esclabor's face, as though an owl had heard a thunderbolt. A dirty hand slowly rises to cover his mouth, a makeshift mask for his mirth as Angus turns away. The grousing, still funnier--why would the man open his mouth if he wasn't willing to do the work? It reminded him of Duncan, if he was honest with himself. The sense of duty, the grousing that amounted to nothing... how easy it was to draw his ire. Every time, the youngest Kearney son got his ass beat for it, and every time (barring a rather protracted incident with a rigged stirrup), it had been worth it.

A deliberate exhale, hidden nostrils resembling a horse's. Angus finally lowers his hand, attempting to pass it off as a pensive gesture by following it with a nonchalant shrug.

"Eh, you an' me have got just about th'dirtiest job there is, yeah? I'd shovel crap over that any day!" A joyful lilt at the end of his comment, a sly side-eye to Esclabor. Now, the punch line. Rather, the line after which one is punched.

"If you're too good for it, though, I'd be happy t'do some extra tomorrow, keep it easy on you," Angus offers. A heaping basket of flowers and sweets might have been less condescending. "Watch out for the cows, mind; they need milkin' every day, an' who knows what they're up to!"

Edited October 12, 2016 by Terrador

[Toogee]

Love Forecast

The woman seemed almost amused by Doug's request, especially in the manner that he'd made it in. She leaned in close, her face only inches away from Doug's. He could smell the aroma of peaches, most likely coming from her golden locks. "I think I might have something that could help you find your heart's desires." she whispered back, playing along with his self-perceived secrecy. "You look like an honest guy, it'd be a shame if you were too shy to confess to your beloved. I've got all sorts of charms that can help you. Anything from helping you find your true love to making yourself completely irresitable. All you need to do is buy the right one and you'll find the love of your life... love isn't cheap though, what exactly are you looking for... and how much money do you have?"

Doug was so entranced by the peachy smell, he forgot to look back to make sure the others didn't notice. He had entirely missed Claire as he was regaled with the magical properties of the woman's goods.

"Wow, really?" Doug was expecting simple jewelry from the girl. But to have the magic to make him irresistible...or the knowledge of his destined lover...

"You know, I was just looking for an ankle bracelet or something...but I guess it couldn't hurt to check on the more magical items. Tell me, what do you have that can make me more...desired?"

[Frostivus]

Susan let a hiss escape through her grit teeth as Emmet pocketed the vial, and for a moment the girl looked absolutely put out in bone-deep exhaustion, but it was gone as quick as it came.

His action had come far too quickly and conveniently, almost as if rehearsed. Pocketing the vial before healing Claire? Susan could read him like an open book; she saw the subtext behind it all. He was after the same thing she was.

With every passing moment the party’s true colours shone brighter and brighter. Cowards and cheaters.

Strangling him wouldn't solve anything, Susan reminded herself. But stealing it from him would prove impossible too. Just a little bit of strangulation then. Not much.

She considered her options.

One victim. One witness. Two bystanders. Time limit? Before Claire woke up.

First option: she could scapegoat Emmet. The Princess and the diplomat would believe her; they were an easy mark. The story practically wrote itself. Claire was wounded, Scuttle was wounded. But it would contradict her previous story, and Emmet would know for sure then that she was lying.

Second option: she could sow the seeds of discord and persuade them that it was in their best interests to keep the vial on someone more trustworthy (read: naive). It was the safe option, and would place the pressure on Emmet instead of her. It could work, but then she had to steal it from someone else instead, which took time. Time she didn’t have.

So that left the final option. The gambit.

“That . . . th-thing is far too dangerous to keep!” Scuttle croaked, pointing tremulously at Emmet’s pockets as she willed tears to flow down her cheeks, “I had to stop her! Malaphar wanted it. Dettard wanted it. No one can handle it! Don’t you understand?!” she just about pleaded, “It got Claire, and it’ll get you too. It's not worth keeping!”

She knew exactly how Emmet would react to this. She knew exactly how Cassandra would react to this. She could plan for them, coax them into her trap. The only wildcard here was Alain.

There was no turning back from this.

Susan drew her bow.

“I’m not aiming to kill, Emmet. You know I’d never hurt you. But . . .” she took a sharp inhale of air and announced with neutral concision, “One hundred yards.”

Scuttle began, and glanced pointedly at his pockets. “That’s the farthest I’ve hit a target with a bow. On a moving cart in obstructed vision, I bopped an urchin's cap off who had stolen my apple a hundred yards away. I didn't hurt him. I'm a bit rusty, but from this distance, I can hit only the vial without hurting you easy. Maybe scrape your pants leg a bit. But you try and move, Emmet, and I can’t guarantee that.”

Her voice was resolute and stone-cold, “I’m sorry, but that vial must be destroyed.”

Edited October 12, 2016 by Frostivus

[Nanami Touko]

Claire was... Stable? Cass was a healer, not a medic, she was never taught to tell pulse or if someone was alright, but she seemed to still be breathing, albeit faintly. That was enough, and with Emmet helping to heal her, they would be able to close the wound easily, and then--

Who shot her?

There were two options. There was Emmet. He was the most suspicious, truly, and having just grabbed the vial, before healing Claire, after that talk Cass had with her, he was seeming like option number one. She didn't want him to be it; he'd been nothing but kind to her and Adele since that night in the sewers. Still, it was becoming more and more difficult to openly trust the man.

But option two, that was Scuttle. Cass looked over at her, closer now, getting a better look at her-- why is she so cut up? Cass knew what those wounds were. She'd suffered through them herself, not one month ago, and she still remembered the pain it had caused. Claire has that tome now, right? Then... Then why is Claire attacking her?

There was too much to figure out and not enough time to do it; the latter option was pushing the course of the situation. She'd trained her bow on Emmet-- more, his pocket, where the vial now sat. Claire was healed enough. Cass sprung up and put herself in front of Emmet, arms out. "Stop! Everyone, just stop!"

"Wh-What is even going on? Claire is hurt, and you're both concerned over that wretched vial? Can we please, just, calm down... I know, everyone's on edge-- I am too, desperately, but this is not how to solve things! We should help her, and then talk about this, this magical... Whatever! But destroying it right now at the risk of hurting Emmet is not what you should be doing! Scuttle, put down your bow!" What they needed was to sit down and discuss this like adults, not rabbit animals fighting over the last scrap of meat. It was foolish. Too foolish. Alain, please, back me up. Someone...

[Juliette]

Oh. I see... A disappointing result for Freya, to be certain. One lone man, and not a very watchful one at that, wouldn't help her much as far as training, or probably much else. Perhaps there was opportunity in what he said instead. "Someone strange in town, you say?" she asked. It was something to focus on, but a valid concern as well- the party seemed to attract unusual people, often hostile, far too often for her liking.

Edited October 12, 2016 by Juliette

[Shin]

Atmna lk ywma tyba

Rashid's father waved a fairwell to Adele, disappearing back into his tent. "You have a long life ahead of you, young lady. It would be a shame to continue with such regrets. I hope you are able to move forwards. My life on this world has been a good and long one, but I do not fear my fate, for it will come for everyone one day. I must rest, but I wish you the best."

With that, Adele could hear him sitting down on a chair, presumably to rest. He'd recommended the Seer, and the charm he'd passed her gave off a gentle energy. It wasn't powerful or forceful, but it was enough to bath her hand in a light warmth.

What a ducking duckhead

Morta was rather baffled by Alain's comments. Was he trying to help her or just try and look clever? She wasn't too sure, but he was far too preachy for her tastes. "Idiots shouldn't try to be clever, they're far better at being stupid." she grumbled, turning her attention to the ducks at the pond edge.

Brushing Up

The old man looked rather surprised, perhaps at the mention of a mercenary group painting his fence for him. "Very well, sonny boy! I live at the house next to the chapel, bring all your friends and you're free to start when you're ready! I've got the brushes and paints and everything!" he laughed, scratching his head. "That makes me wonder... I hope the paint's fine. It might be a little old and difficult to deal with... just like me!"

"Commander, are you sure we have to do this?" Larissa asked, beginning to regret Serge's decision. "I can go find the others if you want everyone to help... it might take a while otherwise."

Sinside Out

"It is hard to go through life without making a few wrongs, my child." the woman replied, without an ounce of digust in her voice. "Do you regret why you did these deeds? Sometimes the best people are the ones who question their actions the most. Only a truly amoral individual would go forth without contemplating their acts... would they not?"

Sliding a book towards Sidney on the bench, the woman smiled. "Perhaps the tales of Engel will be able to guide you. There are tales of old that still have meaning to this very day. Sometimes all it takes is an amusing tale."

The Farmer

Esclabor couldn't believe Angus, did he actually enjoy doing these things? He was only in it to help his friend, but Angus seemed to be completely fine with peasants' work. He now understood why the Kearney clan had such a reputation - he'd thought Nelon's stories were too farfetched to be real. Milking cows? Esclabor knew he'd sunk to a whole new low... but there didn't seem to be many other options.

"It sounds like you've had experience, Kearney." he grumbled, following after the boy witb Angus. "I'll be sure to remember that when we return to Wyke."

It took a good few minutes for them to reach the farmhouse, a quaint structure that wouldn't be too far out of place in the Kearney territories. An older man, perhaps about fifty or so, was sat in a chair at its front. With a straw hat on his head and coveralls on his body, it was likely that they'd found Farmer Perroy.

"Orphy, this better not be a plan to get out of your chores." the farmer warned sternly, staying put in his chair. "If I find that you've been slacking, it'll be more than the cows that will know your secrets."

The farmer cast a glance at the nobles, coming to a conclusion once he saw the injured Nelon on horseback. "Now, you don't look like the kind who'd steal my sheep... what's a pair of Wykian nobles doing in a place like this? State yer names, fellas. I'm Perroy, I see you've had the pleasure of meeting my youngest son."

Love Broadcast

The woman pulled Doug in closer, wrapping her arm around his shoulders as she showed him a small silver pendant. "All the girls will go nuts over you with this. Even if you're not the most handsome, they'll feel the purity of your heart and soul, your love will shine through!" she whispered, making sure nobody else was in earshot. "I only have one, so it's a little expensive. Three grand will net you the admiration of every woman you see."

Slow Watch

"Outskirts or in town, as long as there's no trouble, I'm happy." he replied, adjusting his helmet. "There was apparently some weirdo with a turban on, freaking people out... but nobody else has come complaining so they must have gone away." He looked over at Freya sleepily, amused at her curiosity. "If yer feeling brave, you could go hunt them down. Somewhere between the market and the library, all I know is that they've got a turban on their head. It sounds like too much effort for a guard as good as me."

[Dandragon]

"Yeah...Yeah, scuse us old man could you give us a minute." And thus, Serge motioned for Larissa and Emily to join him outside. Once they were out of the tavern, Serge decided perhaps it was better to discuss the job with the current group. "So...do either of you have issue with this job? I realize we need all the work we can get, but...well here we have a choice." Truth be told, the employer and the working conditions put Serge off. And he wasn't about to endanger them with poisoning and disease if he had the option to get out.

[charlie_]

A pained gasp escaped Claire as she jerked awake. First pain had overwhelmed her senses, and now it was responsible for returning to her. To her relief, it seemed to be slowly ebbing away, but that was about all she could tell of the situation.

Her eyes drooped lazily. Shapes moved and she heard familiar voices, but couldn't match them up to people. The fog had cleared, but it didn't make much of a difference. Her vision was blurred and her head was throbbing, making any attempts to figure out what was going on useless. From what she could make out, the voices seemed to be panicking, and her leg was slowly beginning to feel like a leg again. Claire wasn't sure if she could speak, but if she could she couldn't find the words. Her breathing had at the very least returned to something resembling normal, but her head was a total mess.

Edited October 12, 2016 by SB.

[Vestige]

"Listen, neither of you two are telling us what exactly happened," he said, his tone steady but firm. The play had only just begun and Alain was already starting to grow tired of the theatrics. Dettard was the Wykian noble sentenced to death for treason, if he remembered correctly. It was big news right around the time Alain had arrived in Wyke--Hull more specifically. But what did he have to do with the vial? Alain wasn't sure, but he was curious how Scuttle knew that he had something to do with it. What was even the point of mentioning it? Why wait until now to say it? Where had she even run off to in the two days leading up to their current encounter?

"Ms. Scuttle," he said, narrowing his eyes onto her. "You need to put the bow down. Now," he demanded. She was mad if she thought he was going to be okay with her shooting an arrow aimed at Emmet's pocket. There was more than one way of destroying a container. Shooting arrows was not the first one that came to mind. "Nobody is doing anything with the vial, except placing it into the palm of Prince Owen when this is finished. As far as I am concerned, the vial is property of Wyke's crown, and nobody here is in a position to make a decision about what is to be done with it except for him," he said.

"You seem to take an issue with Sir Emmet keeping the vial, so he can hand it to either myself or Princess Cassandra. Which I'm sure he will be more than willing to do, unless he wants a summons from her majesty once our journey is complete," Alain said calmly. He didn't want to doubt Emmet, but he also didn't really know anything about him, or whether he could be trusted. Though in truth, there wasn't any immediate harm in having Emmet hold onto the vial since he wouldn't be able to run off anywhere anyway. But it was better safe than sorry. And if it calmed Scuttle down, then so be it. "Now I'm going to ask you again. Please put the bow down, Scuttle. You're hurt, and we need to heal you," he said, hoping she would listen to reason.

[Jotari]

Emmet took his attention of the bard for a mere second to check Claire's vitals. When he looked up again he found her aiming her bow directly at him. Slowly he got back to his feet. In his pocket he placed his hand firmly around the vial. He doubted Skittles had as good a shot as she was suggesting. He felt it much more likely that he was about to get an arrow in the gut. At least the princess can heal me. Before he had even finished his thought however, Cassandra placed herself in front of him. Using her body as a shield to protect him. His eyes widened. He had not expected this behaviour in the slightest. The princess...she is a greater ally than I ever even expected. She doesn't even know what I'm planning to do with her and Adele, yet she's willing to risk her life for me. It was behaviour Emmet could barely comprehend.

Then the Raaewaldian diplomat spoke. Emmet hadn't even noticed his presence until now but it put him much more at ease. He was a mage, Skittles advantage with distance was essentially negated. There was no way she was winning this. "I'm not the enemy here" Emmet said, perhaps a little to eager to defend himself after Alain suggested he give up the vial. "I stumbled onto this scene much like the two of you to discover her about to kill Miss Bennet. You think if I planned this I'd have gone to the trouble of bringing more than just a bloody healing stave. She claims Claire was trying to run away with the vial. Something I find quite dubious. But we don't need to speculate much further. It looks like she's waking up."

[S_Cero]

AND SO THE BASED GOD CAME DOWN FROM ABOVE AND SMITED YEE ALL

[Terrador]

[shucks, he didn't quite take the bait.] Still, Angus did manage to get a rise out of the older baron, and didn't pay for it with his face: a good day, in his books. Mentioning his daily assistance at the stables might be too much for Esclabor, so that delightfully smelly nugget stayed in Angus' pocket for the time being.

Angus inclines his head in response to Perroy's greeting. [Old man must've gotten around a fair bit, to figure us out so fast. Or does word just travel this fast in this town?] Withholding any comment on Orphy's coming days off, he introduces himself with as little pomp as possible.

"Angus Kearney. Prince Owen's headin' to Raewald for an audience, an' this'un we picked up on our way through." For the life of him, Angus couldn't recall why Esclabor was out here in the first place. A question for another time. "It's quicker'n by sea, but we've had a rough week." Angus was certain that Perroy would catch on to his understatement, but it didn't really matter; now wasn't the time for a war story. "There's about a score more, an' four pegasi besides. I was told you'd be th'man t'speak to, for our friend here an' as a courtesy." A caterpillar eyebrow directs itself to Esclabor; Angus was fine talking with a farmer on his own terms, but representing others, far less so. Thankfully, he could defer to experience today. "Anythin' else I'm forgettin'?"

Edited October 13, 2016 by Terrador

[Frostivus]

Cass sprung up and put herself in front of Emmet, arms out. "Stop! Everyone, just stop!"

“Out. Of. My. Way.” The words were quiet; hollowed out of any emotion or reason.

She was meant to cower. She was meant to cry in a corner, to refuse to face the problem and hide again like the weak princess Susan knew she was. She was not meant to leap in front of him and block her shot in that sickeningly selfless way.

One irrational move. One excuse for a stray shot. That was all she needed. Susan wasn’t as good at reading people as she thought.

Either way, it was over.

Emmet had the vial. Claire was awake.

Susan had tried. Every bone in her hurt. Every muscle in her screamed for rest. She had been up for days - the lethargy hit her abruptly, at once.

When.

When did the Princess grow this courage?

Susan had planned contingencies and covered every possibility and risked it all, only to be stopped by her.

No.

Susan would not accept this. Susan was the product of life’s efforts to kill Scuttle, Susan was what moved on when Scuttle gave up. She was her self-defence. The oyster epithet fit the two perfectly, except instead of a pearl there was maybe a rainbow-coloured balloon. And instead of a hard calcium shell there would be a hollow ivory prison, a husk. The walls that protected Scuttle’s fragile self was suffocating, but it did great against the frigid waters. Susan could take the pain and the anger and the loss because there was nothing left in her. Susan could stain her hands with blood because they had been red since she was four. Susan would shoot the Princess and the Mage Killer. She would pry the vial from his cold dead hands, travel back to Wyke and bring Javier back.

It was over when Susan decided it was over. She swallowed the bile rising in her throat and let the heat in the centre of her chest cool coffin-like.

“Don’t make me shoot you, Princess. That vial is too dangerous. You think I wouldn't?”

She stared straight into Cassandra, into the windows of her soul, saw the frailty and every foible, every button she could press.

If the Princess wasn’t as much a coward as she thought she was, Susan would tear her down to be.

Hadn’t Cassandra known? She was her puppet all along, to string at her fancies.

“I wouldn’t want to be the one to explain this to Adele,” she began with ill-concealed provocation, keeping her aim steady at whatever gap she could find at Emmet. “Who will be there to protect her once the people learn the truth about you two? Is that the world you want to leave behind for her? One where she had to suffer your mistakes?” Mad adrenaline surged through her veins, ricocheting until it reached as a high-pitched whine in her brain. Who? Who knew this secret and would so brazenly spread it? “Move.”

Edited October 13, 2016 by Frostivus

[charlie_]

Claire's head rolled to the side as her brain tried to catch up with a world which was moving far too quickly. Slowly, her surroundings were coming back into focus. It was still far from perfect, but she could finally identify the shapes and people around her for what they were. Princess Cassandra. Emmet. Alain, the diplomat. They'd all come for her, she realised, fighting back tears again. Please... just stop...

It was all starting to come back to her now. Scuttle had called her to the library, laid a trap for her and was going to kill her. The mage had fallen, was left screaming in pain and certain that Scuttle would kill her, and then-

"one"

Claire heard the bard's voice, almost causing her heart to stop.

"learn"

She tried to sit up, but her body was slow and unresponsive, causing her to slip back to the floor.

"mistakes"

She had only managed catch glimpses of the conversation, but the last word came through loud and clear.

"Move."

It wasn't over yet. Even in her delirious, half-conscious state, she could tell that for sure. From the bard's stance, she could tell now that she was still armed, and considering recent events Claire doubted that Scuttle lacked the resolve to shoot them. "She wants the vial." she murmured, unsure if the others could even understand her. Or maybe the bard already had it. The familiar weight at her side was gone, and the last words she heard before passing out certainly had implications.

[Nanami Touko]

Claire was stirring, that was good. That meant whatever healing they had done was working, at least somewhat. Emmet came to his own defense, and with a quick glance behind her, it proved to be correct. That meant... Why is Scuttles shooting Claire, then? What's... Ugh. Something happened. I don't know what. But it's not right. Alain stood in to second her on Scuttles putting her bow down. Things were working out. She managed a small smile. They would talk it out, someone else would take the vial, everyone would just, calm--

“Don’t make me shoot you, Princess. That vial is too dangerous. You think I wouldn't?”

"...What?" Eyes scanned back to Scuttles. The girl's eyes were trained, deadly on her. Something was different. She had too much purpose, too much... Ferocity. This wasn't the bubbly girl they had met on the boat, this was someone else. Was the vial that much of a threat to her? Did Malaphar scare her so much?

"Scuttles, listen, we're all scared, so just--"

“I wouldn’t want to be the one to explain this to Adele”

Cassandra's eyes sprang open, staring Scuttles down with a new found worry. Every other word she said now, every prod, every little jab-- Scuttles' voice was coaxing, to snare her in what she was saying, and it was working. Cassandra felt fear creep back in; fear, when had she become so afraid? Was it Arteria, was it the kidnapping, was it even before that? Diving into a raging fire to save her half brother? Fighting against him to protect something she thought was right? Losing her Father...? No... I know when...

[spoiler=Like a Father]

"Princess, what's the matter? You aren't one to cry like that. Tell me, what happened?"

"I-I hurt her! We were, just... Playing around, the practice weapons... I-I hit... I hit Adele in the chest, and she started crying. I got scared... So I ran away. She's going to hate me..." Quiet sobs snuck themselves in between her words.

The elderly man's lips flickered to a smile, gently patting the princess on the head. His tender voice slipped out.

"Don't run away, my dear. Lady Herman would never hate you, let alone over an accident. And you have to be there for her, whenever she is hurt. Did you know? She cries with her family, but you are the only other she's ever shed a tear in front of. Even if it's you that has hurt her, you must be there."

"R-Really...?"

Tiny eyes looked up at him with worry, but he nodded, softly and gingerly.

"Only me?" She dried her tears on her arm, staring at him for answers.

"Yes. Only you. My lady cares for you a great deal. Be the only one that hurts her, and the only one that sees her hurt. Now, run along back to her. The day is young, and should not be lost over something like that."

With a growing little smile, and a sniffle, Cassandra nodded. "Okay! Thank you..." Beginning to walk, then running down the hall, she headed to where Adele was waiting.

The elderly man watched her run off with a small chuckle.

He was gone, now.

That was the day fear had entered her body. The day she learned that people she loved and cared about could still die. Be it age, being hurt, a sickness or some spell, she had found out that death came when it was ready, not when you were. And like a slow, burning disease, it had dug itself into the smallest recesses of her heart, clawing at her at every step. She had saved Gewaint, and beaten it back, and she had done her best to keep Adele safe, but cracking under that pressure, faced with demons and magic from another world; from outside the safe walls that Wyke had given her to perform and do what she could...

"No... I will not move."

Her voice was uneasy, but there was a pride within it. She was still alive, despite everything. And so was Adele. Don't let anyone else hurt her.

"I trusted you. And now, you dare, to threaten me with her life? You dare, to stand there, and try to make a mockery of my feelings, and my affections for her? You dare, Scuttle Thames!?" Courage roared, and fought her heart's illness. "Who will protect her? I will! I have, and I will, because she will not suffer for what I have done! Only I will! I will take all the suffering and pain and wrong that tries to hurt her, and I will bear it, because only I can!" Courage roared louder, and fought for all she had left.

"So shoot me, bard! Shoot me, you vile urchin, because I may be afraid-- I may be scared for my life, and for those around me, but do not think I will cower, or meekly step aside, as you spit your threat at Adele! You will never understand how I feel about her! And it is this feeling that lets me be brave, in the face of everything!"

She stood firm. Courage roared, and fear backed down, sinking to the lowest pits of her heart. This was her moment of triumph. Whether she was to be shot, or whether Scuttles would lose her nerve, neither mattered. No one would speak ill of Adele and their love, and have her back down from it. Not a soul.

Edited October 13, 2016 by Narmaya

[Jotari]

Cass...You...idiot. Emmet thought to himself. Did you really tell this girl about your relationship with Adele? How well do you even know her? She's a bard, she's meant to spread rumours. Do you even care about this secret? Do you realise how much trouble you could get in if the truth gets out? It didn't seem like Scuttle was backing down. She's just as foolish Emmet realised. She's going to be in world of trouble if she shoots the princess of Wyke. Even if she some how manages to get the vial she'll be hunted like an animal for the remainder of her days. Likewise he'd be in a world of trouble if she was shot on his behalf. Emmet suddenly began to laugh. He placed a hand on Cassandra's shoulder. "Thank you princess. But you've done enough." He looked to the bard. "This elixir is valuable to me. Beyond measure." He stepped in front of Cass. "I don't believe for one second that you wish to destroy it. I think you want it for yourself. But on the off chance you do wish to destroy it, I cannot allow that to happen." In one swift motion Emmet removed the vial from his pocket, brought it to his lips and drank. He flung his hand away and gasped. Then, he pounded his clenched fists against his chest. "Shoot me now Skittles. Let's see what good it will do you!"

Edited October 13, 2016 by Jotari

[Shin]

Paint Job

Larissa and Emily gathered around Serge, ready to listen to their commander's woes. It wasn't what they'd been expecting, but so far their boss hadn't done anything to the detriment of the Reliants. Larissa decided to speak first, it was better to get her own opinion in before Emily's... enthusiasm kicked in.

"Commander, I was more worried about you feeling like a fool for painting a fence." Larissa explained, knowing too well what it was like to be looked down upon. "I'm more than happy to help you do this, as long as it's what you want. I suppose there are worse things to do... at least you're not shovelling manure."

Emily wiped her eyes, was her boss really willing to degrade himself to ensure that the group had somewhere to sleep at night? It was beyond all his heroic deeds, no number of armies slain or children saved from burning buildings could match his humility. "Boss, I would shovel manure with my bare hands if you ordered me to." Emily said firmly, her eyes sparkling with determination. "A great hero like yourself... doing such a simple task for the good of his allies, that's why you're a real hero."

Old McKearney had a Bear

Perroy looked at Angus, nodding his head agreeably. He'd heard the name Kearney before... but it had been a good number of years. "Well then, Angus. We don't do titles and formalities around these parts. I'm Perroy, you're Angus and your prince is simply Owen in these lands." he replied, his gaze drifting over to Esclabor. "Sounds like there's a lot of people with you, I might be able to spare a barn or two... you seem like an honest one, Angus."

"I'm Ba-... Thomas, this is my friend Ceirch." Esclabor replied, giving a shallow bow. "We were told that you might be able to help him. He's taken a grevious wound beyond healing magic. Please, I beg of you." Esclabor waited for the farmer to reply, the man deciding to ponder over their words for a good few seconds.

"Leave your friend with me, I'll see what I can do sort him out. If it's a wound, I might be able to figure something out. I'm more used to treating animals, but they're not that different from people." he replied, Esclabor letting out a sigh of relief after his words. "Mind you, you did make a promise to my boy. It might have been an unreasonable price, but I won't have you lying to him. I expect to see each of you at dawn."

Faraway World

"Owen... where are you now? Have I brought fear and doubt into your heart? I did not imagine you would rise against me, I had pictured you too meek and feeble, serving under me would have been an easier fate. A lesson has been learned though, you are not Oswald... but you are not compatible with my world any longer..." Malaphar muttered, still sat on his throne. "Oh? You bring me news? How intruiging, you and your sister are such wonderful pawns. I made the mistake of underestimating his group, but once my strength has returned... Owen, your fate belongs to me."

Library

Much was going on at the library, and oddly enough none of the villagers seemed to be remotely bothered by the ruckus. Either it was a result of combined apathy or lack of curiosity, not one person outside of the group had even thought to check the building. However, behind one of the shelves, only poking out an eye was Morganna. It was a lot to take in, almost everyone seemed to have a death wish.

"Scuttle?" she whispered, far from the drama. "I knew she was obnoxious... but scheming and insane? This can't be right..."

[Dandragon]

"Emily, I'm not gonna ask anyone to shovel manure." At times, Emily really took a lot out of Serge. And yet, it reminded him of how he was as a child, so he couldn't bring himself to be annoyed by it. He gave out one of his usual sighs.

"Larissa, I feel like I've been looked down on by a lot of people already, so that's not my biggest concern. No, my concern is whether or not you are happy doing these kinds of jobs. Both of you. And that goes for Hans, Lars, Emmet, and Morganna, too." Serge leaned on the outside wall of the tavern and looked towards the clouds of the sky. "I honestly thought it would be a nice change of pace rather than fighting for our lives from crazy immortals and wizards." Serge was putting their happiness over his, like his parents did with him. Was this what it felt like? It felt odd. For the longest time all he had to worry about was himself and what he would do to sleep somewhere warm, but now...

"Listen." He stopped staring at the clouds in the sky to look back at Larissa and Emily. "I personally feel like this is a good opportunity for some shelter tonight. And I don't think this man has any malicious intent. So I think we should at least give it a try. We can find everyone else to get more hands to help out. But if you don't particularly want to, we can try looking some place else." Is this what a boss is supposed to do? Or are they supposed to force their workers? Serge hated to use the term workers. Hell, he hated to refer to them as anything other than people, and he certainly didn't like referring to them as 'his'. They were people, just like him, and he had lived in a world where he was looked at as less than human for many years of his life, so why should he look at them as anything less than humans trying to make a living when he has the opportunity. ...Maybe Serge was too kind for his own good...

Edited October 13, 2016 by Dandragon

[Ether]

Well, what did she really have to lose? At worst case, this seer would do nothing, there wasn't much to fear for trying it. Walking away from the campsite with her spirits lifted some from their earlier stupor, Adeltrudis began to walk back to the town, soon passing the rock she had been sat upon and entering for the first time in earnest. Stopping for a moment to ask a towns-person where she might find this seer, she was quickly given directions. Seemed the simplest way from where she was would be to cut through the marketplace, so enter it she did.

[riariadne]

"Hmm... I guess that makes sense," Sidney agreed. "I know some of the things I did were wrong, but others I'm not so sure about. So that sort of uncertainty is right to have, you think? That's a bit reassuring, then... thank you."

She took up the book when passed to her, opening it. The stories of Engel were nothing new to her, but she hadn't read them in a while. She smirked a bit at the tale of the farmer's daughters, and the two flowers contrasting with each other. "It's been some time since I've read them, but they always are refreshing, aren't they? I always liked the story of the flowers myself... it emphasizes how different we all are. Everyone has their strengths."