RP:Splinters
Dark Forest, Vailkrin
The first one falls out of a tree in front of the spider Daisy is riding, covered in moss and lichens, its body no more than three feet in height, its head large, features oddly unfinished-looking. Like a carving of a creature, but it moves… sharp stabby finger-twigs twitch, and long claws on its feet scrabble in the forest detritus, the weird little beast hissing as it launches itself at Belladonna. Almost comical, really, for what can this single tiny monster do….But there’s another, and another, then dozens dropping like deer ticks out of the branches overhead, swarming out of the bushes, from the windows of abandoned buildings. Scores of them, but this is just the first wave…
Mac grapples with the mind-controlled bakru trying to stab him in the back of his neck, flinging the creature over his shoulder to the ground, while looking wildly about for Dee… It clambers right back up and goes for the kraken’s legs, slashing out with its long, sharp fingers for flesh or tendon. It’s not alive, he realises, nor truly sentient and therefore the kraken is not bound by is oath.. Few would have the ability to hear the sound Mac makes then, of two distinct pitches, one so low it rumbles the very ground, the other so high it shatters windows in that neglected home nearby. The bakru is torn apart from the inside, effectively pulped – but its place are countless more, and while Mac’s sonic blasts explode many at once, still there are many coming.
So there is danger and peril and grimness and all the dark words of doom coming from her travel companions. It is to be expected, considering the situation. Daisy, however, is the happiest kitten! She bounces like girls do when they just got some food and it is delicious and they're not hangry anymore. She does have a cookie, but it is the spider baby mount she is happiest about. She'll have to do a proper thank you for Quintessa later. Maybe she'd like a vial of-- what was that?! The beasties drop. And drop. And drop. And... There's one right there! Yes, they're everywhere, but look here already! Little chonk legs do their best to hold on to that saddle while paws reach for her tail to quickly uncork the barb at the end. That long, leathery appendage perks right up. "Stab please!" The druid asks and the tail eagerly complies! Daisy never lets it stab anything and now there's lots to do! Our kitten gets to the clinging while her maladroit tail gets to jabbing like the Oprah of venom. You get some poison and you get some poison and you, well we all get the idea. Now the mini maladroit tail isn't as potent as the verily toxic and killingful malaparent! But it does do an immediate knock out. Just in case anyone paying attention wants to do a more fatal murdering of the swarmies dropping around the kitten and her pretty steed.
It would seem to those who cared to check that the woman had been swallowed by the darkness of the forest, and presumably the horde that now converged on their small group of hikers. Mac had left her to shift after all. Her senses had been correct, that something more lurked and now that something was attacking.
A low grumble can be heard over the cacophony of chitters and scrapes of the bakrus as they moved to attack their unsuspecting prey. It was coming from somewhere in the back of the group, somewhere behind the kraken as he did his best to rid himself of the smallish evil creatures. A large mass of fur and teeth suddenly bursts through what would look like a wave of tangled limbs and stabbing digits, scattering them briefly. Some were caught within the jaws of that snarling mass, one instant whole , the next spilt in half from the sudden bite force of the dire wolf that held them. Giving a great shake of her body, she rids herself of a few more clinging to her back before leaping forward and dislodging yet another from Mac's back attempting to jab him through his coat. Satisfied that he had the rest handled, the Lycan spins and swipes her massive paw in an arc to throw back any others that may have attempted to crawl up her back side. Snapping jaws and teeth continue to hold the rest at bay for now.
Quintessa offers Joan an awkward smile when she brings up Khitti's reasoning for constructing a second headquarters for the Necromancer's Guild. "She had many reasons... But the truth is we've always longed to study the undead roaming the western wastelands of Frostmaw. Everything happening in Vailkrin, both materially and politically, was merely a push in that direction. But–" she throws a glance back at the rest of the party, "This is not really the place for that talk. You and I can talk privately about those details some other time." It was at this point that the changeling fixed her mismatched gaze upon the kraken, his words pulling her attention from the path ahead until his warning caused her to return to full alert. "Belladonna!" Quintessa is quick to shout an order to her spider but it is too late.
Already dozens of small bipedal creatures have bared down upon them, one of them striking at the mount before she could react, teeth and claws digging into her thick carapace. When Belladonna finally realizes what is happening, she angrily swipes at the swarming foes with a screech, causing them to dip and dodge to avoid her slow attacks, driving them back and giving Daisy enough time to prepare her tail for mayhem. Meanwhile Quintessa does her own preparations, uttering the words to a levitation spell that lifts her upwards and out of reach of the vicious bakru just in time. She places herself next to Daisy, hovering just over the rear of the saddle as she makes a quick assessment of the battlefield.
Her allies all handled themselves well, meeting Quintessa's standards high enough that she didn't bother barking orders at them. Instead her lips part to cast another spell, the air around her crackling as it becomes thick with her mystical energy. "Mwy O Daflegrau Hud!" The Black Witch lifts her finger as her voice booms with this incantation, causing a glowing green burst of raw mana to conjure at her fingertip. In a fraction of a second the raw mana manifests into a swarm of magic missiles, each exploding from the tip of her finger before honing in on a separate target. They leave bright streaks of lime colored sparks in their wake as they weave their way through the combat zone, embedding themselves into the chests of her targets only for another to take its place. "Elazul's Bite," Quintessa curses under her breath. "Perhaps I should call for reinforcements..."
Joan would of had to jingle her fingers around in her ears again once all the magical speaking and spell speaking starts off as the small wood undead spirits begin their attack on the group. Since she didn't have a chance to do that the vampiric healer would do what she could. Shifting to place herself somewhere in the middle of the group she would channel her connection to the dark tides to summon forth a round half inner circle of purple shifting shadow aura fire to surround them inside it's protection. Those half gloved hands raise upwards to rise up the shield of purple shadow fire flames so it included the floating 'Tessa. Her fingers weaving around in held midair to try to enclose the shield. Tho a bunch more of those poor inflected undead wood spirits barely make in, getting roasted as those shadow flames set aflame their tiny wooden bodies.
"Uh...yes please 'Tessa, I don't know how long I can hold this shadow flame circle, I'm not much practiced with my control of the black tides as of yet." Joan would grumble underbreath as she got bitten and stabbed at a few dozen times by the tiny undead wood spirits, the most Joan could do at the moment was shake or kick any off that came in her direction as most of her attention was to holding the shadow flame circle about the group. Her voided light violet sweeping around to make sure everyone was holding their own as best against this onslaught. Joan would then resolve to learn some form of combat to better protect herself and those she cared for at a much later date besides the mere basics she already knew.
Meanwhile, Mac has been taking advantage of the slight respite Deidre’s ongoing slaughter affords him— able to pool his focus inward even for a few brief moments, power gathers within him like a ship’s hull flooding with brine, til it rises in his throat in the shape of a terrible sound, a string of them, scratching there like caged beasts wanting out. He’d have forced them back, though, to voice warning to the others…. but at that moment Joan loosed her flaming bubble of dark magic around the group, and the oppression of it, the fire, the literal shock of two opposing streams of magic meeting, served to strangle that heads-up where it lay for a second longer than it took a dozen or more bakru (which lucky few weren’t presently becoming chew-toys for a gigantic wolf) in his immediate vicinity to leap and dig their stick-fingers into his flesh, ripping at him viciously.
The seaborn practically allows it, more concerned with regathering his focus than potential death-by-a-hundred-nasty-fingernails. He summons Deidre closer with a desperate wave of hands and should she oblige, he’ll fling aside as many dead wood-kids as he can to clamp large palms over her two pointed ears, flattening them against her shaggy skull. And okay he might’ve had to straddle her spine to achieve this effectively and hey, she can thank him later.
However antithetical to his own nature Necromancy is, it is right now providing the group protection not only from zombie bakru but also from Mac’s untamed elemental brand of magic—before Joan’s spell wanes even slightly, every member of that party will hear an urgent, hissing whisper as if the man-apparent is right there beside them,
“Cover your ears..”
And, hopefully, they would, because very next moment the kraken’s bearded jaw drops to allow the eruption of that series of ancient words, every guttural syllable cracking the air like black powder explosions, the ancient phrase literally hair-raising as static energy surges to near-unbearable levels. Mac belts those words out in rapid-fire while the toxins in his flesh leach into bakru-wood via his blue blood and paralyse at least half of them, little wooden bodies dropping off his tall frame like poisoned insects.
Overhead, black-bellied clouds have amassed at his call and within them glowers the ire of a kraken-- wild electricity forks its fractal fingers downward, smashing through the atmosphere like a crooked rain of blinding, god-flung arrows all set fly at once. Outside the shadowy dome of Joan’s protection, the kindling-dry bodies of undead bakrus disintegrate en masse.
Did he get all of them? Is the swarm abating? Mac doesn’t know, still having to contend with the remaining little monsters not yet turned to metaphoric stone by his innate poisons, so he for one won’t be counting.
Dee continues her onslaught as best she can, clawing and biting, beheading and ripping limbs from the little buggers. But even her great size and dexterity and utter brute strength were failing as the sheer numbers of bakru continue to multiply. Where one is felled, two more jump up in its place. She can feel stab wounds all over her back and legs where they have started to focus their target, and even some along her soft under belly, but she continues on hoping to hold them off long enough until someone can think of something to end them.
The dome of protection offers some respite and she praises who ever may have conjured it with a thousand "thank you's" in her mind. She would have to give Joan and the lady known as Quintessa a proper one later as the she-wolf finishes off a final evil little twig with a wrench of her head while holding its smallish body in her teeth, effectively ripping it in half. Turning now to view the entirety of the chaos behind her, she leaps to Mac at his call and allows him to clamp his large hands over her ears as well as straddle her back in an effort to protect her sensitive hearing. Even with the protection, a high pitched whine can be heard from the wolf as the magic still raises every hair on her body. It renders her nearly useless and those large amber eyes close shut tightly. Her legs shake from the effort to remain standing but the Lycan grits her teeth and continues to swipe and bat at the remaining few bakru, practically playing a keep away game or horrifying version of whack a mole with her massive paws.
Quintessa gives a quick nod to Joan when she seconds her notion to signal for reinforcements, but the changeling hesitates to give the call, her fingers instead clenching into a fist to empower the globe of raw mana that floats before her. "You have yet to see what I am capable of," Quintessa responds in a haughty tone to Daisy's complement, throwing a shark-like grin over her shoulder before she returns her concentration to the rear of their convoy. She takes a second to admire the carnage the werewolf had caused but her attention is soon seized by Mac once more, his warning to cover their ears eliciting an arch of her dark eyebrow.
The Black Witch refuses to heed his warning but she almost instantly wishes she hadn't. The words he speaks threatens to shatter her skull, but she resists with a painful wince. Her fae half delights in the feeling of the static energy, of the Selenite magic that fills the air, wild and alive. Her night-hag blood surges, shielding her from an attack not meant for her and causing her aura to burn with an ebony luster- then it happens; A crack of thunder announces the lightning and Quintessa can feel the gooseflesh cover her entire body, her awe distracting her from any pain she was feeling. It is truly Belladonna that suffers the most, the giant spider immediately dropping to the ground and covering her head with her massive forelimbs with no regard to Daisy on her back.
When the dust has settled and Joan's protective barrier has fizzled out, Quintessa slowly levitates towards the center of their group, turning a full 360 degrees as she searches for anything left moving. "Anymore?" She asks rhetorically, almost taunting any bakru left hidden to show themselves so she can send a second volley of magic missiles directly into it, but all is quiet for now. With a loud snap her globe of mana disappears from view, leaving behind a glowing residue in the air where it once existed as she lowers herself back to the ground. "Everyone alive?" She doesn't bother checking. "Good. We should get moving; More of those things could be coming."
The undead woman had used her own healing power on herself when Mac gave his warning, having closed and sealed up her inner ear. She felt the power and it caused the vampiric healer to pause long enough in her concentration and channeling of the Black Tides that the shield fizzled out at the very end. Her short styled pixie hair winds up standing up in all sorts of different directions, she shivered as Mac and Quintessa's power rode over and through the undead woman. It wasn't too unpleasant but Joan would rather not go through that again if she could help it.
Joan would groan out loud as she fell to one knee as 'Tessa finished off what was left of those poor undead wood spirits. She would have looked like a bloody pincushion from the stabby twig fingers wounds she had suffered if she was wearing a lighter color in clothing. But she was smart and always wore darker colors so the bad guys could never tell when she would suffer an injury. Blinking she would reach down to her small portable field medical kit she had and dug out of it a decent sized glass vial. Thumbing the cork off Joan would down the whole vial as it held fresh magically charged blood. It would speed up her own personal healing as she shakily get back up to her booted feet asking aloud if anyone needed healing, duty came first as always for the vampiric healer.
Fortunately for them all, Tessa’s verdant magic had all but cleared their immediate surrounds, and Mac’s elemental summoning has left the throng outside of Joan’s barrier little more than smouldering piles of kindling. Littered around the interior of that dissipated magic circle now lie the torn, bitten, clawed, poisoned, exploded, burned and maimed remains of other bakru, some still twitching but effectively rendered defunct.
Mac, bleeding blue from dozens of small wounds, thinks first to check over the exhausted, unnerved dire-wolf beside him, once he’s let go his hold on her ears, But he is no medic, the blue ichor leaking down his arms to stain his hands is toxic, and her fur is so thick he can’t get a bead on where or to what extent she might be injured.
“Is thy strength sufficient to make the change, Lady?” he asks her, through grit teeth, tugging several deep bakru-splinters out of his shins. His eyes lose their eerie monochrome cast and shift to stormy greys and greens while his gaze sweeps the rest of the group, his voice a touch hoarse as he calls, “Mayhap a moment’s respite, Lady Blackwell. I sense no disturbance in our vicinity.”
Indeed, his prodigious senses pick up nothing but the sound of trees, every other living thing having sensibly fled the kraken’s raging storm.
Daisy is given a jumble and tumblerolls to the ground as the poor Belladonna falls. Her own body has very minor scrapes since the spider and tail and everyone around her are the absolute best at protecting. Get up, kitten. You have work to do. Ignoring the ringing in her own ears, she scrambles on all fours over to Belladonna's face to offer her pets and soothing whispered words of comfort healing. The magic shimmers from her lips with a peaceful glow, easing the poor baby's pain. Once done, she looks around at the others to see if she can help anyone, knowing Joan will be right there for the helping too. "Maybe a rest." She agrees with Mac while looking up at Quintessa for approval. "Just a minute."
The wolf's usually sturdy stance buckles and she lays belly flat to the ground, her heart thumping in her chest and her ears still ringing from the force of the magic's that had exploded around her. She could feel a multitude of small scratches and gouges beneath her fur but none felt so severe that they should need immediate tending. They would heal on their own thanks to her advanced self healing.
At Mac's question, her head rises and her amber gaze finds his, a small shake of her large canine head given in answer. She would remain on all fours for the remainder of this trip and take no chances. She was more useful in this form than in her human. To show that she was whole and hearty, she rises once more from her small respite and gives a good shake of her coat and slight wag of her tail. Moving around the kracken, however, the large canine trots to Daisy and gives her a nuzzle of inspection. Ignoring her fear for the moment, she even inspects the large spider known as Belladonna. Having found them in good health, she gives Tessa and Joan a quick nod as if to say thank you before she moves back to stand at Mac's side, ever the trusty guard.
Quintessa is still on edge, the hairs on the back of her neck bristling like an angry hound as she scans the area. The words of her allies don't seem to reach her at first as she swivels in a circle, her breath slow and steady as she anticipates yet another wave of foes. Finally her sapphire and golden hued eyes find Mac, the wildfire held in them dimming as she realizes just how serious his injuries were. "Yes," She says, swallowing hard, pushing down some of the anxiety that was starting to wrap around her throat. "A brief moment of respite..." She searches for the vampire next, "Joan? Take a look at his injuries, would you? I'll spare anything from my alchemy belt you need... Excuse me..." With that said the changeling returns to Belladonna, who thanks to Daisy's efforts, was recovering from the stress of the encounter. Her many eyes gaze upon the feline fondly, a sound that could be called a purr rumbling from her mandibles. "Thank you for helping her," Quintessa says to Daisy in a hushed tone, one that was only meant for her to hear. "Most people don't care about spiders. It's good to see you are not like most people... If you ever need anything- anything at all. Just ask me. You have earned my favor."
Casting her glance first towards Daisy, Joan would offer a mere nod to Quintessa's question. She had unblocked her inner ears once the fight has seemed over so she could hear normally once again, that voided light violet gaze would next swing towards the wolf and then Mcracken. Noticing the seeping blue blood Joan would pull out from her portal kit a extra full pair of gloves. These she would pull on over her half fingered gloves the pair going over her normal gloves was a size larger just so they would fit without the undead woman needing to try to peel off her everyday ones she wore like 24/7. Internally that large glass vial of magically charged fresh blood she had ingested begin the process of helping heal all the small wounds she had suffered. "Alrighty fellow, let us have a look, yeah? I have never worked on one of the sea born, walk me thought what I can do to help, and don't say no. I can use this as a learning experience." Joan said lightly as she hunched down slightly once she was close enough to the humanoid shaped kraken to exam what splinters remained, her gloved fingers quickly plucking out what she could see.
Mac huffs a breath of relief followed by a word of thank to Quintessa, as the party pausing to assess its damage and he discovers that Deidre is far tougher than she looks… in human form, anyway. He even manages a wide ‘attagirl’ grin as she trots on over to Daisy, for whom that smile only grows broader. He raises a blue-stained hand to the kitten and of course hears every word Lady Blackwell says, chuckling to himself for indeed Daisy seems very unique.
A rustle of gloves has him shift his attention to Joan. He opens his mouth to voice a polite protest but is headed off at the pass by the healer’s pre-emptive insistence… Mac has a distinct feeling that his immediate future will go much easier if he simply gives in and lets the woman tend to his wounds— though most of the shallow ones are already sealing over, the rips and punctures on his legs run deep and even his regenerative powers aren’t closing them as fast as he’d like. He grimaces slightly as the healer tugs splinters from his knees and shins, bending to roll up the loose legs of his more-tattered-than-ever breeches so she might have clear access to several gaping injuries. The dermal rings scattered over his body are pale once more, the blazing azure of the poisonous marks during the skirmish likely unnoticed under his clothing. “Be cautious of my blood, Mistress Joan, for when I am wrathful it floods with a toxin.. ow!” There goes another splinter.
Daisy gives Deidre's nose a gentle pet to assure her friend that she is just fine while making sure the wolf doesn't need any medical attention at the same time. Ah she trots off to be by Mac so probably she is okay? Joan is already taking care of Mac, so that is good too. Deep breath. In the nose, out the mouth. Peace. For a minute. Yes this is fine. The druid gives Belladonna another pet to make sure she is okay then smiles at Quintessa and her kind words. "Thank you for that. She was brave and protected me. Are you okay?" Her tail is still a little darty, looking for more fights to be had. It is grabbed and corked once again before jabbing at Daisy's arm as if to tell her that it is built different and that she is doing too much. Probably it silently calls her bruh too.
The wolf huffs a deep breath of satisfaction as it seems they will be stopping after all. Giving Mac and Joan space to tend to the kracken's wounds, she again lays on her belly, her orange eyes closing and her body relaxing as she focuses her own mind on her speedy healing process. Her ears atop her head continue to twitch back and forth, ever alert and listening. Though, this round of mischief had abated, she still did not trust the dark forest around her.
Joan was concentrated on her task at hand, listening with half a ear to everyone else, as she plucked out the last of the splinters from Mac's shin and leg area she would offer a rueful grin up at the shaggy pirate fellow, she did a quick swipe at his closing wounds with a bunch of clean bandages, these she would carefully store into her one of her many compartments in her magical field medical kit, the gloves would follow after as she was mindful she would need to magically cleanse them. "Don't worry about that Mac, these are some of the gloves that Quintessa has had made for dealing with dangerous poisons and toxins, I should be good." She then lightly wave her icy cold pale hands above the closing wounds adding in her own magically healing energies to speed up Mac's own magical healing abilities, once she seen them close with her small bit of help the vampiric healer would stand up, dusting off her pant leg while she poured her own magical healing abilities to finishing up her own healing. Joan would close her eyes and shake her whole body once she felt whole, slowly she would open her eyes then give herself and then Mac a once over before moving to follow after the rest of the group on the last bit of their trek to the Black Pond.
Quintessa's ears might have perked up a tiny bit when she hears that Mac's blood was toxic, her mismatched eyes flickering to examine his wounds again but this time with a more curious glint held within. "Toxins...?" She mutters to herself before her attention returns to Daisy, giving her a nod to answer her question. "I am unharmed. Fortunate enough to avoid those nasty buggers." Quintessa gives Belladonna another examination, quickly removing any splinters she might have gotten defending their party from the attack but she returns to Daisy's side, but this time her attention focuses on her tail, the same curiosity present in her eyes that was there when she spied upon the kraken's poisonous wounds. The only person among them that still got a suspicious glance from the changeling was Deidre, the lycan among them, whom Quintessa actively chose to avoid thus far. "Your tail," She pulls her glance away from the werewolf before examining the now corked appendage. "You'll have to explain it to me... But not now. Not here. I should focus on getting you to the Black Pond." Having given the party sufficient time to take a short rest, Quintessa returns to the center of the group, her voice rising as she addresses all of them at once. "We shan't delay much longer; There are things far more terrifying than bewitched bakuu stalking these wood- Things that will have heard our struggle. Quickly, gather your belongings and steel yourself. We press on in five minutes." Quintessa keeps her promise too, ordering the giant spider to press on not a second after her time limit was imposed. Belladonna creeps northward through the trees, leading the rest of them down the barely visible footpath that leads to the Black Pond.
The Black Pond
Before any of them see it, they would smell it. Even ordinary humans could sense the dank, unknown scent here, one that was overwhelmingly potent with dark magic and corruption. Quintessa seems to revel in this darkness though, taking a deep breath and sighing in contentment. "Ah, we are here." The trees open up to reveal a clearing nearly one-hundred feet wide, the tree standing at the edges twisted and adulterated by the evil magic emanating from the center of the clearing. There sat the legendary Black Pond, nearly big enough to fill most of the clearing and only giving visitors enough space to trudge through its muddy banks if they wanted to look closer. Its black, oily surface ripples rhythmically, caused by some unknown force that dwells within the Black Pond. Quintessa is bold enough to lead the part right up the edge, but Belladonna lingers at the trees, preferring not to get any closer. "This is it; The Black Pond of the Dark Forest. This is the place I grew up... playing in the mud, pretending to be a famous death-knight... And when I grew older?" She turns back to the group with a more sinister expression, the lithe fingers of her left hand squeezing tightly around the sheath of her blade as she positions herself between them and the pond, as if protecting it. "I used to throw the bodies of my victims in these tepid waters for the Dweller to feed upon. And now you come here making claims that this sacred beast is causing trouble in Trist'oth? Committing crimes against the sea-born? Well, we are here now, in the Great Dweller's domain. Did you come hoping for some kind of confession or do you have evidence that what you claim is true?" It appears that all the good-will Quintessa was showing before was an act, for her tone has shifted to one as venomous as Mac's very blood.
As the group comes to a pause next to the bank of the Black Pond Joan would give the whole area a long studied glance, slowly searching the area with her own senses before she turned to give Quintessa a bewildered glance, "Huh?! Whoa-whoa there! I didn't know about all that when I agreed to help guild Mac up here...if this has any truth to it...you take that up with him. Daisy and me aren't part of that." She would move over towards the kitten and spider mount, standing in a protective manner next to Daisy, her arms slightly held out either side of her to block that sunny ray of sunshine that was the blonde kitten! She wasn't sure what she could do against Quintesa if the other younger woman attacked her and Daisy but Joan would do her darndest to shield and protect her dear friend.
Whether Dee is aware of Quintessa’s wary scrutiny or not is hard to tell, but Mac doesn’t miss the expression passed from woman to wolf. His wounds, which exist solely due to his being unwilling to make the search party collateral damage to obliteration of the bakru horde, are swiftly and expertly dealt with. He thanks Joan sincerely for her healing efforts, then rolls his pants-legs back down over limbs made whole again and treads over to where Deidre lies resting. He gives the dire-wolf another once-over but before he can voice any question regarding her state she pushes up to stand on four paws and shoots the kraken a side-eye that clearly suggests the question isn’t necessary. “I am glad to find you hale, Lady Dee,” his tone is still subdued, but he offers the soft patch of fur behind the lycan’s left ear a hasty scratch to express just how glad he is. By the time Mac and Dee join the rest, the forest’s guardian and her arachnid mount have moved off into further gloom.
As for the stink of the place, Mac has had its foulness in his nostrils for some time, So has Deidre, though its intensity as they near their goal makes the wolf snort, hackles rising on her spine as they trudge inexorably onward. By the time the party reaches the pond, however, all that stench and ominous magical vibe, all of Quintessa’s moody speechifying, Joan throwing him under a proverbial stagecoach, even whatever gloom-denting bit of jolliness Daisy may bring to this intense moment—indeed, anything but that horrible body of black water itself— may as well be non-existent to the Old One, for far, far below the hearing range of any creature present other than himself comes a sound from that pond that Mac recognises. It’s not a voice nor a tune, but a low vibrational hum given off by a specific race of beings by default of their nature, and for a moment all of those envenomed blue rings on his skin glow up to a vibrant turquoise. For that moment, he assumes the creature submerged in that dark morass must be the very one he sought, and despite Quintessa’s barely veiled threats, prepares himself to hustle the erstwhile innocents away and launch into what might have proved a swift and extremely destructive strike. What prevents the entire forest being flattened, the pond from boiling, and everyone with the sense to run the trouble of actually running is…. the kraken lolling in the pond’s oily depths is not only not the one he is seeking, but a being of distant legend among the elders of the deep, a creature whose name has gone unspoken for so long that it has slipped from the memory of all but a handful, and alone among them the only one with living memory of this ‘Dweller’ as she once was is.... Mac.
The recognition almost floors him. He halts abruptly, catching a handful of Deidre’s spiked ruff with one trembling hand to stop her, too, and drops his jaw ... mot in shock, as might be assumed from the ensuing silence, but to emit a wave of sub-sonic vibration aimed toward the murky pool. His eyes, once more starkly black and white, tear away from the pond then, the kraken’s gaze redolent with anguish as it fixes om Quintessa, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic rasp as he speaks, “This is not… She is not…. “ for the first time in almost seven hundred centuries, the Old One is somewhat lost for words, “… much is clear to me now, But let us leave your ‘Dweller’ to her dreaming while I tell you of it. And tell you, I ... I must.”
Then he turns away. Not waiting for anyone, not even the wolf, nor entertaining a single response, the kraken strides into the forest trail’s eternal gloaming, unwilling to allow another soul to witness the unfathomable depth of his grief.
Dark Forest
Daisy gives that tail another pat on the cork to make sure it is secure before nodding to Tessa with a smile. Of course she'll talk about it. As much as she knows at any rate. "Promise." She follows and waits and listens and wrinkles her nose the closer they get, eyes always in search of a planty delight she hasn't seen before. Pay attention, kitten. Your guide isn't the happiest. She stay the most quiet when the mood shifts. Dangerous women make hearts beat in terror and awe of magical beauty at the same time. It's fine. It's fine. It's... a paw is placed on the small of Joan's back. "Ssshhh. She's just protecting her home." You can't damn a woman for that. Before Daisy can say anything else, Mcracken's heart is spilled into the air for everyone to breathe the weight of it in. The lump in Daisy's throat is swallowed following a lick of her lips. "Come on. He needs..." Us? Do you know that? Maybe not. But the kitten will turn to follow her new stranger friend anyway. Joan's shirt is given a gentle tug to follow and Tessa is offered a smile of peace. Maybe she'll follow too. Moving closer to Deidre, a comforting paw is placed on her back. Of course she's coming too.
Deidre can’t admit in words how much she really appreciates Daisy’s soothing gesture, but the low whine that sounds with every exhale this whole time fades off and she lets the kitten keep her paw there while they follow Mac away from this terrible place and its evil stink. The kraken moves swiftly, they lose sight of him several times but Dee’s sharp wolf nose keeps them on track and soon they find him under a large tree, his back against the trunk and knees drawn up, face buried in his large hands. A black, wet nose pokes him in the forehead, and a snuffle of hot wolf-breath makes him drop those hands and reveal sombre features. “I am fine, Lady Dee,” he murmurs. She settles at Mac’s side, the wrinkle of her canine brow making it plain she doesn’t believe him.
Quintessa's lithe fingers slip away from her weapon, the defensive ridgeness in her posture evaporating as she pieces together the situation in her mind. She watches Mac leave, her mismatched eyes yielding to her empathy just enough that it wasn't a glare, and when that blue and golden hued gaze pulls away from him her eyes drift to stare at the Black Pond, imagining the ancient creature that slumbered therein. "They... knew each other..." She voices her assumption, a whisper that escapes her black-painted lips as she pivots in the mud to stare deeper into the cursed umbra of the inky waters. There the changeling stands, silently pondering over everything she had learned today. Quintessa had never really believed what Mac was telling her, she didn't actually believe he was what he claimed to be, but after witnessing just a glance of his grief, of the recognition in his eyes when he sensed the Dweller's presence in the depths of the pond, she knew it was all true. "Indeed..." She looks back at Joan and Daisy, offering the two an expression that almost resembles apologetic before she follows after sluggishly, giving Mac enough time to collect himself away from her judgemental eyes. "You two have nothing to fear from me," She says to the pair as she catches up, even being so bold as to throw the tiniest smirks in Joan's direction. "I think if I was going to attack you, Miss Joan, I would have done so a long time ago– But Daisy is correct; I'm only protecting the forest and its inhabitants. No matter how monstrous people may claim they are... But this enigma is not yet solved. Someone is out there causing trouble, implicating my people and bringing trespassers to the Dark Forest looking for justice. I must put a stop to this, so let us hasten; Our mutual acquaintance has much more yet to explain to me." In matters of comfort, however, Quintessa has little to offer him save for her patience.
Joan scrubbed at her face as she groaned into her gloved hands, she really didn't sign up for any of this after-school special kinda deal this whole ordeal was turning out to be. She did follow after the rest of the group since Daisy had tugged on her shirt. The vampiric healer listen to Quintessa as they moved towards Mac and Deidre. Since Joan didn't have much of any real opinion one way or another on how 'Tessa saw herself to the rest of what was left of Vailkrin's poltical scene she didn't much bother when the younger woman went off on 'Her people'speech.
She'd rolled her vested shoulders in way of commutation towards the smirk, seemly at peace knowing she would not need to try to defend Daisy or herself from the younger woman. So long as the kitten was good, Joan would be good. Anyone else that might incur Quintessa's wraith was on their own during this trek. As she came upon the slumped down Mac and dire wolf form Deidre, Joan would pat at her outer upper corner vest pocket for her handkerchief. This she would stuff into one of Mac's hands, she so wanted to say 'If you have an issue use a tissue' but she kept the thought to herself. She had to remind herself people did become emotional from time to time and just needed time to gather themselves after any sort of emotional outburst. Not everyone was the unemotional undead.
Once Joan places her hanky into one of Mac's rough hands she would step back and wait near Daisy and Quintessa, hanging back as she crossed her gloved arms under her small vested bosom, her gaze settled on the crumped humanoid shaped kraken. Joan just was not one for melodrama. One of the reasons she chose to become one of the undead. Emotions were messy and often drew one into unnecessary situations.
The kraken doesn’t say much until Quintessa is present, grateful for the moments she’d delayed so he might gather composure from the deep shock that inky pond had presented. “Lady Blackwell, Miss Daisy, Mistress Joan, if you would…” he gestures his desire that she join Deidre and himself there, below the tree. “I must speak with thee… but not too loudly.”
Mac takes the offered kerchief from Joan with a polite nod of thanks. Not entirely sure what to do with it, but trying to be sensitive to strange Dry Lands customs, he folds it with great care and stows it in one of his deep pockets. This done, he continues speaking to the forest’s warden, but briefly glances around the little group with eyes that are still starkly black and white. “My profound apologies. It was a terrible shock to find one I have for millennia believed to be dead, not only alive but in such a… state.” Fully aware that Quintessa has formed some kind of bond with the pond’s ‘Dweller’, he chooses his words carefully. “And while I cannot begin to comprehend how she came to be… as she presently is, it is the seaborn way to honour her path if it is freely chosen and harms not any Child of Selene.” The awful monochrome begins fading from his eyes, which take on a greyish blue hue reminiscent of winter seas. “The mimic has been leeching the Dweller, slowly over time as she dreams, growing fat on stolen power and using this to gather slaves to itelf, I believe, with the objective of one day killing the Dweller and taking her place. The gods only know what it would do then. If it has this far given itself to evil, and is so cunning and resourceful that it would seek out one long lost to the ocean when no-one else could, then…” dark brows knit at the thought, “… I fear there is no recourse but to hunt it down and kill it before it can achieve its objective or harm any other creature. We must here and now make plans for this hunt, which I do not doubt will be rife with peril. I will understand if any of you wish to stay behind.”
As soon as Deidre sits, Daisy sits next to her, leaning against the wolf for comfort and rest. Her own? Deidre's? Maybe a little bit of both. She looks up at Tessa and Joan and pats the ground beside her, welcoming them to rest too while she turns her attention to Mcracken and his story. There is a thing that needs to be done and you can help. Somehow? Maybe you can be bait. Or a decoy! Is that the same thing? Suppose it could be. At least you'd be useful! The druid sneezes and waves a paw by her ear. "I will help you."
Sidd wasn’t quite sure what to expect on his first trip out to Vailkrin. He’d come clad in black from head to toe, much like he had dressed any other time, really. Ratty tank top. Worn carpenter’s pants. Hefty work boots with a protective, steel toe. Scarlet bandana tied around his neck. The electric blue strip of hair atop his head - styled and standing proud. There was one new piece of his attire that he was pretty excited about, though. A battle vest, as he called it. Given that he had come into quite a bit of wealth during his adventures away from Lithrydel, Sidd invested some of those funds into a local armourer and commissioned a protective vest. He knew nothing much of how armor was crafted in this land, or what materials were used, but the man was quite surprised that the article of clothing was so damn light when he went to pick it up. Not to mention it looked great to boot, with multiple pockets and everything! Since he was going to the land of ghoulish things, Sidd also thought it best to gear up in case he was attacked, making sure to put on his gem-slotted brawling gloves and grab the custom-made ‘club’ that he dubbed ‘Dome Splitter’.
When he first stepped through the portal and into the dark realm, Sidd immediately got the creeps. There was something so strange about the atmosphere here that it unsettled him deeply. ‘Put on a brave face, Sidd. You got this. How the hell else are you gonna prove yourself, ya dope,’ he reasoned with himself. Still, as he wandered along the main pathway into town, he spied the sentries guarding the gates up ahead and got spooked. He’d dealt with some aspects of the undead culture before, but there was something a tad off about these guys, and consequently, he ended up chickening out. Maybe there was another route into the city. Some way he wouldn’t have to deal with armored dead people. Spying the forest to the north, the coward ducked in, hoping to find another road that would take him around. DO. NOT. GO. TO. VAILKRIN. That’s what he was told on multiple occasions. Yet, Sidd didn’t listen. He figured that since a vampire invited him to visit, maybe he’d be fine. But no. He was not fine. And now he was traversing some creepy woods, not knowing where he was going, just to avoid having to deal with a potentially scary scenario that he’d completely made up in his head. They probably weren’t even sinister. Could have been friendly, even. Way to be racist, Sidd. It’d been some time since the man first entered the forest, and there was no telling how long had been wandering at this point. He was seriously freaking out and was pretty sure that he was going in circles. The dense wood. The darkness. The spider webs. It was disorienting. Every sound, every hint of movement, had him on edge. And when Sidd gets on edge, he tends to self-soothe by singing. So, as he wandered along the path, lost and afraid, his voice softly echoed out into the night. “If you leave me now, you take away the biggest part of me. Ooh-ooh-hoo, no, baby, please don’t go...” Another startling noise causes his voice to crack a little, the club taken in both hands and held against his chest in a defensive position as he moves on to the next verse. “And if you leave me now, you'll take away the very heart of me - OOH-OOH-HOO, no, Baby, please don't gooooooohmygawd, there’s actually people out here?!” Sidd couldn’t believe his eyes. Not far in the distance, gathered next to a tree, was a very odd-looking and totally not scary group of individuals. “Oi! Hey! Can someone help me?!” he called out in excitement, quickly jogging over. That zeal grew when he finally spied a familiar face. “JOAN?! For real! Is that you?! Hoooooly. I was just on my way to visit! Why the hell didn’t ya tell me there’d be big-ass spooky guys guardin’ the place?!” Before she could answer though, the eccentrically styled human realized that there was a somber mood hanging in the air. He was very obviously intruding on something that he probably shouldn't. “Ah man, bad time? You guys good? Don’t mean to overstay my welcome or nothin’, it’s just that I ain’t from the area, and I’m lost and.. Yeah.” Dome Splitter was lowered to his side as he stood there and let an awkward silence fall over him.
Deidre laid beside the heart broken kraken and Daisy, gladly accepting any comfort that their closeness brings her. It had been a tough trek thus far and the she wolf was less than enthused with how it gone. A light whimper can be heard as the waves of sadness role from her companion. She wasn't sure what had him so upset, but she felt a wrenching heart ache for him. Her large head pops up, however, as a new comer comes crashing into their small gathering. A rumble from the Lycan can be heard vibrating from her chest as lips pull back over sharpened teeth. It was a clear sign that new comers were not necessarily welcomed. Keeping her keen gaze on the man, she watched warily while slowly moving to stand, ready to pounce if need be.
Every once in a while, Mahri likes to return to her old haunts, her old...hunting grounds so to speak. This is one of those times only this time, it's not just spiders and undead she's either avoiding or hunting that have made their way into what she once considered her pack territory. The wolf's nose picks up the scent of a group, some she recognizes with familiarity and others only in passing. Saucer sized paws tread silently on the forest floor, muscle memory making it easy. The large black wolf followed those scents until she was almost on them, silvery eyes looking from face to face while the she kept to the trees for cover. Mahri's triangular ears swiveled forward and back, listening.
Joan looks upwards and swings her voided light violet gaze towards the noise, as she recognizes the sight of the large blue mohawk the vampiric healer would raise her hand upwards to wave over Sidd. She'd move to step towards the young punk as she cheerfully speaks outlad to him, "Hey there Sidd, I'm sorry I should have told you I live inside the city proper. Those fellows won't harm yhou if you just coming in to visit. I should have explained that to you before hand, my bad." She does happen to catch the scent of the wolf shaped Mahri, she spared a glanced towards her direction also but won't speak out to her, if Mahri wanted to make her presence known Joan would hang back on calling her out.
Giving a glance back to the group around the crumped Mac, Joan would offer a rolling vested shoulder shrug as she gives Sidd a glance over to make sure he had made it okay through the dark forest. Hey everyone, this is my buddy Sidd, we met back in Cenril awhile back, he had a rumble with some of the local toughs and needed healing, which I gave. I offered to treat him here to some drinks either back the Hanging Corpse Tavern or back at my cottage. He is a soild fellow, at least I think he is, haha." She gave the blue mohawked fellow a friendly gaze and wave over as she went to stand back near dear sweet Daisy and Quintessa by Mac and Deidre.
Quintessa can only offer a cautionary glance at the gathering entourage as even more people join them in the Dark Forest, but at least the changeling could take solace once she spotted her old friend Mahri. For now, however, the young spellcaster was focused on Mac, his story inspiring a studious calm within her. "A lesser being then? One that has debased itself and given reason over to darkness?" Even Quintessa, as hedonistic and irreverent as she, still saw the logic in destroying such a creature. "If this is your judgment and death the sentence, then as Warden of these dark lands it is my duty to administer justice accordingly. House Blackwell will aid in this endeavor."
Mac has barely nodded to Daisy and offered a warm smile of thanks to the kitten, whom he is beginning to suspect is far tougher than she looks and in possession of more than the fabled nine lifetimes allotted to felines, when the cause of the crashing, OOH-OOH’ing din he’d heard coming long before said cause would appear, actually appears. He’s already carried out the best threat assessment a pair of kraken-powered ears can possibly make, but it’s the man’s familiar greeting to Joan that has him swallow a throatful of swift retaliation, and reach for Deidre’s hackles, smoothing them down while reassuring her that all is well with him, and imminent attack on the stranger doesn't seem necessary.
He draws himself to a stand then, the shock of his recent, terrible discovery having been visibly replaced with a quiet, steely rage that runs deep enough in him to forgo all expression as he listens to Joan and the newcomer. “Well met, Master Sidd. One is never lost when amongst friends. Please do take respite here with us, but I must ask thy forgiveness for indeed there is a serious matter at hand which must be discussed, and in some haste.”
Mac towers over most men on any given day, but somehow now seems even more imposing in the silvery gloom of the forest. He turns toward some nearby bushes and speaks in a tone that carries across the distance between himself and Mahri so that it would seem his words are spoken directly in her pointed, furry ear, “And you, Lady, have nought to fear from any present… wouldst thou abandon the shrubbery, and join us?”
There’s a small, wry smile that fades on his lips as he next addresses Quintessa, “Thy help is immeasurably welcome, Lady Blackwell, and I now must ask of thee this task: we may allow not a single one of the mimic’s puppets free passage here, for the going may be hard enough ahead without its minions attacking us from the rear as well. “ He pauses, lifts his chin slightly in the direction of the main road, “While I, and hopefully the warrior I must now go to greet, clear us a path from here to Trist’Oth’s border, will you take those of our present company who are willing to fight, and scour thy forest of the mimic’s foul touch?”
Mac nods to Joan and Deidre in turn, then, “And of thee, Lady Dee, Mistress Blackheart, I would ask a swift journey in search of healers, to gather as many as may be found on promise of rich reward, and have them set up a field hospital at the cavern’s exit in Xalious. Too, there must be readied a means of transporting a number of large water-creatures, preferably in salted water, from Xalious to the Cenril shore. Not an easy request, but….” He fishes in the deeps of his coat-pocket a moment, withdrawing a handful of enormous uncut precious gems, and offering these to Joan, “I trust these will cover any costs.” And they would, and ten times over. To Deidre he adds, “I doubt not thy capacity for fighting, but this is task is every bit as vital, and I trust thee implicitly, both of thee, to see it done.”
There’s nothing of his grief visible now, as the most ancient of all the Seaborn falls silent, awaiting response.
Daisy looks up at the noisy boy with the pretty voice. She heard him before she saw him and now she's even more excited to meet him. Friend of Joan, fetching vest of protection. Yes, he'll be fun to play with. She stands and brushes some dirt from her skirt and takes a step and pauses. Ocean? Fur. Wait. Oh. A little smile escapes with a twitch of her nose. Mahri is over there. Mac caught her too, but Daisy is more invasive and has zero problems with totting over there to hug herself to the black wolf. "Come help Mac." Can't really drag a wolf by the hand, now can you? But she'll try, bending down to take and tug a front paw. But what are you going to do, kitten? How are you going to help? Fight? Do you want to fight? Can you fight? Her tail bonks it's cork a couple times on her head only to be swatted away. Yes, the tail absolutely wants to fight. Maybe just see where they need you. You can carry things. And heal things. bonk bonk bonk -swat- Yes and stab things. She looks at Mac. "I can do what you need."
Mahri would have made her own way out of the shrubs if Daisy hadn’t already wrapped her kitten arms around the wolf. A low rumble of a growl meets Daisy, but there’s no real threat behind it. Daisy asked, Mahri obliged and followed her to those gathered, narrowly avoiding the bonking from the corked tail herself. The wolf stared at Mac, settled on her haunches by the kitten or the Changeling – both of whom she’s more familiar with and would help for their sake. Talk of strange things, dangerous things, roaming these woods would be enough for the she-wolf to join in on the hunt. Besides, it’s been entirely too long since the black had had any kind of fun like this.
Slanting a glance up at Sidd, she gave a wolfish grin. She liked his enthusiasm. Tilting her head back to look at Tessa, a large paw paws at the younger woman’s leg – she’s in, just lead the way. By then, Joan and the other wolf are leaving to complete the field hospital. For what, Mahri isn’t sure but she’s got half a mind to follow Mac. There was a scent in the air that surrounded him, a familiar and unpleasant scent that recalled memories she’d have rather forgotten.
Sidd suddenly finds himself hunching over slightly, placing his hands just above his knees as he looks the defensive wolf, whom he’d later learn was ‘lady Dee’, right in her murderous eyes, slaps on a huge, toothy grin, and says in that childish infantile voice one would normally use on their own pets. “Well aren’t you the cutest, most terrifying thing I’ve seen all night. Yes, yes you are!” The knapsack affixed to his back is slid off of his shoulder and he promptly digs deep, pulling out a piece of loose jerky he’d been saving for a good night of drunken shenanigans. He tosses it to the wolf, unknowing of her lycanthropic heritage, as a peace offering of sorts. “Wait.. is it cool if I give it food?”
Joan is then regarded with a half-assed shrug as he reassures her, “Aaaah, it’s all good. At least I know now! Im just glad I found ya before something out here had its way with me.” With the vampire’s introduction, the man gives a hearty two-finger salute to those present, listening then to Mac’s greeting. “Ooh, this one’s got that funny talk. I like him,” he says casually to Joan, before offering, “Thanks mate, nice t’meetcha, despite the uh, less than desirable circumstances?”
Once Mac started throwing out his requests, Sidd grew pretty curious. Something unusual was going down, and from his perspective, it definitely seemed to be a fairly serious matter. The thing with Sidd is that although he’s been known to be a bit rowdy, or maybe cause problems from time to time, deep down he’s a pretty empathetic sort. If someone’s in trouble or needs help, he’ll be the first one to throw himself into the fray to do what he can. And since he’s only been back for a week at most, stuck somewhere he really didn’t want to be, he’s still a bit down in the dumps and will do a lot of stupid reckless stuff that he ought not to. “Yo. I’m down for bashin’ heads if you need a spare hand,” he offered, going off of context clues, soon slinging Dome Splitter over one shoulder. The blue-haired human took the time to look over the gathered to size everyone up, finally noting the canid newcomer who’d been hiding out not far behind. Wait, did that guy just call it Lady? And that cat-like person, did she hug it? Strange.
The dark wolf gives the overly dried piece of jerky that is tossed in her general direction barely a glance, her amber gaze remaining fixated on the new comer and his childish cooing that he greets her with. As her growl deepens, Deidre snaps her teeth testily at him in warning before turning her attentions back to the Kraken, ignoring the blue haired man all together. Giving Mac an annoyed look, she focuses on the task that is given to her and moves to leave with Joan, her large dark head turning to give him a final look and quick nod as if to say not to worry, all would be well.
Mahri would have snorted a laugh at being called out of the shrubs. As it is her silver-grey eyes spark with a hint of amusement watching this group and how they interacted. She didn't know how long they had been fighting together, traveling together or whatever the Gods it was they were doing; but here they are. Listening, for the most part, the she-wolf steps from her place and approaches Quintessa first, nudging the changeling's leg with the cold-wet of her nose before settling there at her feet, sitting with her tail curled around her paws. The other wolf is eyed curiously but with no malice or territorial intent. Mahri had long since left this place to its own devices for the most part and maintained no claim.
An ear twitches towards Mac as he doled out tasks.
Joan gave a nod and full glance towards the dire wolf Deidre as she moved towards the vampiric healer, as she is given the whole load of uncut gems Joan would begin stuffing them into her satchel. Penelope would be pleased and she was more then sure her guild leader would be more then willing to help and offer the help of the whole quild and not even bother to ask for payment. But her she was ready to take Mac's request and all these pretties to Nel. This would make anyone's day. "Alrighty Mac, me and Deidre will handle this end."
She would need to ask around about help making the wagons and strecters water tight. Other then that she was more then sure that they would have the portable field hosptial set up and ready to go with quick transport to Cenril's wharfs before too long. Joan would give Dasiy and Quintessa a thumbs up sign as she gives Sidd a jerking nod for him to join the kitten and 'Tessa. Now that Mahri made herself known to the group as a whole Joan would give the she wolf a nod also. Boy this group got large rather quick, but hey it was all for a good cause in the end, and that was all that mattered. "Would you like to lead the way Deidre?" Joan asked once she finished storing all the uncut gems, closing her satchel and giving it a firm pat.
Once Quintessa had been given instructions her diligent mind was already at work putting together a coherent plan, the young woman keeping silent until it was her turn to talk. When the moment comes she clears her throat, trying to catch the attention of those gathered before first offering a nod to Mac. "Of course. I understand my mission, you can rely on me from here." She says simply, a dull, pragmatic tone in her voice as she addresses the Kraken- but then her tone raises, almost commanding as it cuts through the night air when she turns to face the others. "You heard him. The Dark Forest is teeming with bewitched undead- puppets whose strings are being tugged by an impostor. This creature is an affront to both myself and Mac, and must be impeded at all costs. This will be a dangerous task but I must ask for volunteers. Any brave enough to join my hunt, step aside with me. I have plans to discuss with you." Having said that Quintessa walks away from the group, reaching up to touch the large crystal dangling from her ear before she summons her retinue to join them. The changeling can only assume she needs all the help she can get.
Mac spends a moment shifting his oceanic gaze from one of this highly eclectic party to the other, nodding to himself before he speaks, “All is coming closer to balance. I could not wish for better companions in this quest. We will gather, on completion of our tasks, at the mouth of the cavern yonder east and from there…”, dim flashes of light seem to fork in the dark, shifting grey-blues of the kraken’s eyes, “…we hunt in earnest. Thy gods be with you.” And that, and a grateful half-smile aimed first at Deidre he strides off into the darkling copse, heading south to the road where even now he hears the clank of plate armour, boots shifting on blackstone pavers, the steady thud of a seasoned warrior’s heart.
Part of the No Seaborn Left Behind Arc