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Angelcynn: The Myrcian Conflict - Act 5


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"The Deirans are definitely puppets. Capture one of them and you'll quickly realize they believe everything about their 'righteous crusade' story to be true. What baffles me is how the king has passed this narrative over to..." The prince took a moment, his eyes had opened wide as a grim realization set in. "No, it sounds even worse. The king must be the one being fed this tall tale, but... that's ridiculous. For an openly pious kingdom to fall victim to such subversion without the king's vassals or the church trying to intervene... could the church itself have a hand? But that's--" Heresy. Just to imagine the church as warmongers would make Owen be cast as a heretic by most. It made sense, though. Right to rule was divinely ordained, but the only group with power to interpret divine messages was the church itself. That made their power absolute, but they were meant to be heavily principled and incorruptible, right? Just as Owen had tried to base his ideal virtues on the scriptures' austere teachings, the priests of Engel must have worked thrice... no, ten times as hard to achieve virtue. But what if one of them was deceiving all?

That... was a bit too much to think of. Was Owen just being overtly negative over his constant losses? I need to come back to this later. Any longer and I feel like my mind will give. Any other topic was favorable over this right now... excepting talking about his good friend's corpse, that was hardly an improvement at all. Ugh. "I think a proper burial would be best, but... I'm afraid we can't just carry his body back to Wyke." Keeping a body from rotting through a ship route was out of the question, let alone with the possible delay that King Olaf might entail to. "It seems our best bet is to bury him among the people, here. If the villagers are fine with it, we can engrave a tomb in his honor, for his sacrifice and the lives of many lost today." That seemed like the best way to do that battlefield... a semblance of justice. "Hopefully no more battles will disturb the peace here."

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Well, at least someone was helping her. Sidney took Freya's hand, slowly, carefully bringing herself to her feet as she did over a few moments. It was a bit dizzying, almost, as she was still dazed from the explosion and flashes, but she made it up, leaning on the armored woman until she could push herself off and support her own weight well enough. "Th-thanks, Freya..." Now that she was already standing as well as she could be expected, she had a simple enough time staying there, but still she felt pretty miserable all things considered. Walking hurt a bit, but was definitely possible as she listened to Owen outlined possible steps to take. "I'll help if you need me. With the villages, or with anything else you need," she spoke hoarsely, certainly far worse sounding than her normally clear and confident voice, wheezing between breaths. "I'm... going to need some help myself first, though... can someone please bring a healer over towards me? I'd prefer it not to be the other way around, with how limited my motion is right now..."

It was a strange feeling, almost of complete helplessness, as she shuffled about in place rather weakly, not straying too far from Freya's side in case she felt like she was about to topple over again, maybe at her physical worst she'd ever been in her life. It was all something of a rude awakening, the village practically crumbling, and just when she'd thought she could end the madman, he managed to escape a clean cut and bring even more chaos and pain. "... Sooner rather than later would be nice." She felt some amount of irritation at being almost completely ignored despite being right next to the situation- dire as it was, surely it was a good idea to take preventative action against the situation becoming worse, yet here she stood, battered and beaten down to her lowest.

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Tears began to fall as Claire took in the mercenary's words, slumping forwards in defeat. She didn't want to look at the Serge, or at anything for that matter, and she didn't want to be seen either. "I-I know that already. You don't need to tell me..." Facing the truth was painful, regardless of whether or not Angus had done his job."I know that was what he wanted to do." she choked out. "If anything else had happened, h-he wouldn't have been able to live with himself. But that doesn't make it right!" Her volume spiked for a few moments, and the launched a fist into the ground in frustration as the waterworks let loose.

"Why did this have to happen?" The mage continued, slowly becoming less and less audible. "Why did this war even start in the first place? Angus is dead, and all of those people in the houses are dead too, and I don't even know why they had to die! This isn't... it's, it's not..." It wasn't fair. After all they'd been through, she she was left feeling somewhere between lost and helpless. Are we supposed to just go home and pretend nothing happened here...? For Claire, that was never an option.

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Elderly Care

Nelon watched carefully as Constance returned to her feet, his hands poised to catch her again in case of another fall. He didn't have an answer for her question, was there much one could do in a situation like this? He nodded his head sympathetically, more dedicated than before to try and find a survivor. "Allow me to continue the search, I shall double my efforts in hope there are survivors." he affirmed, kneeling down to continue their attempted rescue. "You do these poor children a great service. Despite your advanced years, you push your body to its limits to aid them, I cannot allow such effort to be in vain."
 

Dead End

Serge began to sweat, there didn't seem to be much he could do to make Claire feel any better about this situation. Of course, he needed to let her process it. Any great hero would have been able to see that time was the best approach to this dilemma. "I understand, Miss Claire. It must be harder for you since you knew him so well." Serge replied, bowing his head gently. The death toll was huge, people were dying around him on a regular basis. Was this the burden that Serge had to carry? He couldn't bring any people back, but he could do his best to keep those around him alive. "I'm only one man, but I'm going to do all I can to help Prince Onio-... Owen. If I can keep the people of Angelcynn safe, I'll use every ounce of power I have... it's not fair, but we can't let good people like Angus and the villagers here suffer because of war."

Even Serge almost believed what he'd just said, he'd never felt so passionate about fighting in his entire life. What kind of great hero was the original Serge? He must have been a man of legends, he made Steve seem like a loser hung up on impressing women.

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Well, at minimum, Sidney seemed to be on her own two feet, and certainly talkative enough, but her wounds were still problematic. And while grieving was important, it was no reason to let anything that could reasonably be prevented from getting worse. Constance seemed to be pre-occupied with something or other, and wasn't very close, but their other healer, at least, was just nearby. It was a bit awkward to interrupt the sisters as they stood near the fallen young Baron, but...

"Lady Nona... I, erm... I understand how difficult it can be in times like this, but Lady Montana is quite injured as well. It wouldn't do for her injuries to become more serious than they already are," she spoke up. Clearly someone had to do it, and if Nona was irritated at her for breaking the quiet, then so be it.

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The Show Goes On

"Leave Angus to me, Prince Owen. We can't really afford to linger around for a proper ceremony. Wyke needs its rightful ruler, we all need you to stand strong. We can find to do him justice once we've settled the score with Deira. I'll go find a shovel, you should go take a breather." Esclabor requested, looking down at the fallen knight. He shook his head, muttering something under his breath. "If he'd gotten you, then things would be a lot more complicated for all of us. It had to be someone, and Angus chose for himself. Blame the nutjob with the explosives, none of us saw it coming. We need to find ourselves a boat back to Wyke. It's worth sitting down with Ceirch and seeing what the best approach is. Deira's probably stormed the north, the west coast might be an option."

Esclabor started making his way towards one of the huts, his eyes darting around the building's exterior. "I'm going to find a shovel. We should probably leave some troops in the village to keep an eye on things. I have a feeling Tarasque is going to focus on fighting Deira rather than protecting a village by the coast, these people have suffered enough."

The people of the village were slowly starting to venture out of their homes, cautious after the chaotic battle. Many hurried towards the destroyed houses, groups weeping at the loss of their fellow villagers. The orphanage Claire had demolished was gathering attention in particular, the devestation among the crowd was clearly visible - all eyes were on Nelon and Constance in their search.

"Oh? Freya? I suppose I should do that sooner" Nona replied, gently releasing Decima. She looked over at Sidney, reaching for the staff at her own belt. Nona approached Sidney, her staff bathing her in a healing light. "You should rest, Sidney... it can't be easy having been so close to it all."

SKIP HAPPENING WITHIN THE NEXT DAY, ACTIVITY IS PREFERABLE.

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Owen grit his teeth. Baron Esclabor was right, and there was nothing he could do about his dear friend's death right now, nonetheless, he was to live and keep pressing onwards. "Very well, Esclabor, I will leave his burial to you. I tire..." Owen confessed. The prince never found the ground a suitable place to rest, but in another life maybe he'd find himself laying there uselessly, wanting nothing but for the world to stop.

Owen closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "We're definitely weaker, in mind and body. I need to return to Wyke and gather my people under my banner. Only then can we be respected as a force again. We should get a boat soon." There was only so much he could do, though, while waiting for an answer fro. King Olaf. That delay would quickly prove itself inconvenient. "I'll see what Ceirch has to say... he seems a bit busy as well."

But a sight that caught his eyes was quick to sway his train of thought. As quickly as the prince dismissed Esclabor, he was met with Sidney getting attention from Nona. Her injuries were nothing to scoff at. "Sidney, how bad are your injuries?" He approached her and Nona, concern quickly springing to his face. Owen didn't need to lose anyone else anytime soon. "This wretched man and his soldiers... I'm sorry I didn't see it earlier. Are you hurt too, Freya?" It was probably excusable that he was distracted with the attempted murder on his person, but Owen was far more concerned with everyone else's well-being after the fact. Claire, too...

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Constance wondered to the water's edge and stared out at the sea. It was an unfamiliar sight to her. Raewald had a large coast, but it had always been distant from her. She briefly considered tossing her tome into the water, but an innate distaste for the destruction of knowledge prevented her. She held the book close to her chest and allowed the sound of the waves to bring peace. She did not discard the guilt that overwhelmed her, but she removed the stress and shame that would only hinder her.

I will have no tome to defend myself, she thought. So I must make some armour. She raised her hand and started to weave a spell, a spell she had not cast since the days when she traveled with Oswald. Shadows formed around her, creating what appeared to be a suit of plate mail. She used some illusion to bolster the effect, it wouldn't provide much defense, but she hoped it would make her seem larger and more intimidating. She still the waves before her, and made a pool of calm water to study her reflection. The helmet she wore stared back at her, fierce and cold. I look nothing like a healer, but that can be a good thing. At the very least, I have steeled my heart.

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Eric lowered his hands, fists unclenched. Shadowboxing wasn't going to do anything. Hell, would anything else do anything?

...It doesn't matter if anything does anything. I just have to fight. I can't worry about anything else. Fighting is simple. Fighting is what you know. Just stick to it. All you need to think about is how to do it better.

Putting any other thoughts as far out of mind as possible, Eric took a moment to self-examine. His wound where the lancer had struck him still stung, but otherwise, everything seemed to be in working order. His footwork could have been better today, it seemed like. If it weren't for all the random medicine and healers...No. I'm not thinking about that.

Most everyone Eric had come to blows with today was a pain in the ass. They were bigger, more endurant-looking, and bulkier than him, and Eric himself seemed to hold little high ground. He only had his dancing feet, and that boon wouldn't last forever, if today was any clue. How could I...wait. Could I? Maybe, I'd have to ask someone how to. But it's a tempting thought. Hmm...

Eric snapped his fingers, almost as a show of resolve. Next time he got a chance, he'd ask someone about spellcasting. It can't be that hard...

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Well, that took long enough, but for the most part, Sidney did feel better. "I appreciate it, Lady Nona."  She could stand on her own just fine now, though she still didn't like the look of the burns on her right arm and side, and her clothes would definitely need some fixing before any more serious combat attempts. "Well, I'm not in perfect shape, but... I'll be alright, Owen. Thank you." She wrapped her arms around him for a moment to hopefully abate his worries, but didn't hold him for too long- he had plenty to worry about. "Mm... you're probably right, Lady Nona. As much as I do try helping and to be of assistance, it's probably not wise, nor would I be very effective with my sorry state right now as things are." 

She lowered herself down slowly, just to be careful, rubbing along her still tender ribs and chest. "Ohh, I don't think I'll like how this feels later, either... but I do not want to inflame it any more, since that would be worse, so resting myself is probably still for the best. I have... there's a lot I don't want to think about or talk about right now. I don't think I'll actually fall asleep, but if I do, wake me if you must, I don't want to delay everyone." She leaned back, drifting off a bit.

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Serge’s attempts at sympathy and cheering Claire weren’t totally unappreciated, but as she slowly sat up again she still couldn’t share his optimism. “Okay. You go do that Serge.” There was no hint of anger or sarcasm in her voice, or anything in particular. She should have tried to be more positive about it, but with the tears still streaming down her face she just couldn’t bring herself to care. She let them flow, trying not to think much of anything and failing miserably. I should do... something. Claire was vaguely aware that there were things to be getting on with, in the aftermath of the battle, but she just didn’t know what to busy herself with - just that she’d rather be anywhere else.

Inspiration came in the form of a normally foul-tempered noble, who had just concluded his conversation with the prince. She’d only caught part of the conversation, but it was enough of a motivator to push the girl to her feet and make her quickly try and wipe her eyes. She knew that what Esclabor was going to do was logical - and even uncharacteristically kind to the boy, but she still had to follow him.

She managed to reach him before he got to one of the huts, and with words failing at first she tugged awkwardly at the back of his shirt. Her face had regained some colour - if only because it was red from all of the crying, but she managed to keep a mostly straight face and gather herself enough to finally speak. “I don’t want to bury him.” she said quietly. “We can take his ashes back... I’ll... I can do it.” She didn’t want to. But she could. “He gave his life, and I just... I-I don’t want him to be here alone.” It was just too sad, watching the boy give his life for Owen, only to leave him alone.

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"I'm doing fine, Prince Owen. A few cuts and bruises won't slow me down, and my armor is still thick enough to stop me from getting hurt very much, even from things like that." Freya brushed herself off a bit, removing her coif and shaking her head. "Anyone else we can help can be prioritized further, I say." She pat the prince on the shoulder. "Rest if you must, Prince Owen. The day has been long and taxing on all of us, but I can keep watch if recovering would help you be in a better state of mind."

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Later the same day - Village Port

Sea bound 

Despite the loss of Angus, Owen's group continued towards their goal - Wyke was suffering under the tyranny of Deira with each passing day. However, with no means of reaching the island reclaiming the country would be no easy task. Thankfully, their search of the village had proved fruitful. The village had been mostly destroyed during the battle, but the battle had not ventured too far to the east. A wooden dock stuck out into the sea, with a collection of wooden huts surrounding it at shore. There wasn't a soul to be seen, not on the dock or on any of the ships at it. There were only three ships present, all of them sporting Deiran colours, all of which seemed functional but again, completely unmanned. The first was little more than a longboat, nowhere near large enough to carry Owen's forces. The other two were substantially larger, one a caravel and the other an even bigger cargo vessel. The caravel was easily a good thirty feet long, although it would be a tight squeeze with all of their mounts.

"Seems pretty convenient if you ask me. Either we're being suckered into a trap or Deira thought they could use the port." Esclabor commented, walking alongside Owen as the group reached the dock. The Baron hadn't said much after dealing with Angus and his complaints had been minimal. "We're going to struggle with the larger boats, nobody's really had much experience with ships. Ceirch's old man was a sailor, it might be worth asking him how much he can do."

There were still no signs of Tarasque's forces, not even a messenger to relay information. Decima hesitated for a moment, sheepishly approaching Sidney. "Do you think some of us should go scout out the area? Me and my sisters aren't very good with boats... I'm not sure how much use we'll be getting back home."

Sort out your boat and crew! If it doesn't happen IC, it doesn't happen at all!

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"Nobody has ship experience? Well, maybe none of the people you know from Wyke, but you're speaking too soon for me, Baron Esclabor," Sidney spoke up cheerfully- this was perhaps the most useful this facet of her background learning would ever be. "The Montana family always made its name by trading, and I've been on my fair share of sea voyages with my father's ships- traveling, helping, even a bit behind the wheel. I'm not perfect at it, of course, it was never my strongest affinity, but if nobody else is up to the task, then I think I can do a pretty good job of leading the way." Meanwhile, Decima also had her own valid comments. "It's true, work on a ship isn't for everyone... if you ask me. it couldn't hurt to scout, surely, just to be certain that this isn't too good of a situation to be true. It looks like the coast is clear to me from here, but I suppose that we'd rather be better off safe than sorry, don't you think?"

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Constance had dispersed the shadow armour she decided to wear. Such a garb was only suited for battle.

She followed the prince and the rest of his army to the docks and listened as the Wykian Baron described the situation. "I can prepare some meals and keep the place tidy," she offered when there was a lull in the conversation. She had already admitted to the prince that she'd never been on a ship before, making things hospitable was the least she could do.

Edited by Jotari
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Sorting out Angus' body didn't take too long, and the group quickly found themselves at the docks of Oston. Being away from the wreckage, he was happy to not smell as much the smoke in the air. There was an eerie silence amongst the group that Suleiman made sure to not disturb. He didn't know Angus or the rest of the group too well but silence unnerved him. Thankfully the Baron spoke up, breaking the silence and talking about a possible ambush. Suleiman didn't care though, he was ready for any ambush, the filthy Deirans wouldn't best him at sea, he'd make sure of that!

"I can take care of the repairs and cargo, Prince Owen. I haven't had much experience on a ship but I've stood guard at Myrcian ports enough to have observed others and their ship handling. The supplies shouldn't be a problem  for a blacksmith such as myself!"

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Float your boat

Esclabor gave Sidney a sceptical look, the man somewhat uncertain of Sidney's seafaring prowess. "Sitting on your dad's lap and playing with the wheel doesn't really fill me with confidence. You won't have anyone to bail you out if things go sour. If you make a mistake, we're all dead." he remarked, giving a disappointed shrug. "... but we don't really have many options. If you're certain you can do it, you might be our best pick, but speak to Ceirch first. He at least knows the waters around Wyke, if he fills you in on any tricky parts you might be able to plot a course. Living on an island really has its drawbacks."

"We can do a brief sweep before we set off, Charlotte." Decima replied, far more enthused than Esclabor. "I can ask Accolon to help too, he'd be a real help. With all four of us, we'd be able to cover far more. If we're lucky he might even know the area between Deira and Wyke."

-

Repair Job

"Someone say repair? I could get behind that too!" Vesta pitched in, her hand twitching as it reached at her tool-belt. She almost realised what she was doing, instead extending her hand to Suleiman. "Surprised I didn't bump into you sooner, baldy, I didn't think anyone else would be interested in stuff like that. I'm Vesta, one of Esclabor's mercenaries. The ballista from the battle? That was me, I do all the repair work on it myself... it's gonna need a few tweaks after what I put it through, but I'm sure we'll get along great! I've never had a chance to work with a professional blacksmith, I'm getting ideas already!"

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Sidney scowled at Esclabor's insinuation. "I didn't say I was an excellent captain of years of experience on the ocean, but I was certainly doing more with it than just playing around as a toddler... I can't say for sure if that's more or less than Baron Ceirch would know having his father a sailor, and perhaps knowing the way around Wykian waters would make him better suited to the position, but I thought it would at least be helpful to volunteer. At the least, I could be first mate and keep things straight on the ship." Still, Decima's plan sounded good. "The more, the merrier, probably. Hopefully, our path is relatively simple, but it might not be so easy... perhaps luck will be on our side, but it's better to be prepared for the unfortunate, so everyone scouting would be really nice."

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"Maybe some of you people know things about boats, but I haven't seen one of the things in my life until we took one away from Wyke a bit over a month ago, and I didn't have to do anything for that to bring us where we had to go," Freya mumbled. "So I'm not too informed, or have much to say on this whole decision making process, but... I'm sure I can lend a hand with moving stuff around, physical labor, that sort of thing that's... the same I help with as everywhere else, but just a more on-water version." She'd lead Angus's horse along, the poor thing seeming very distraught about the entire situation- rightfully so- but nobody else had exactly volunteered to help it, so there she was. Does it have a name? It probably wouldn't be too fond of having to travel by ship, either, but it would have to deal with that for now. "... You don't need me to tell you what I'm going to be good at here, really."

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"Oye,  hello lass,  I'm Suleiman, a blacksmith who worked for the queen herself,  Prince Owen hired me before we left for the Myrcian battlefield." replied Suleiman, shaking Vesta's hand.  He was delighted to meet another person in the group who could fix things.  "Ah,  I noticed you were managin' the ballista, that was very useful in our battle,  great work! Work is a little rough with how short we are on funds, but I can manage with this. What ideas are ya thinkin' about? "

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Claire hadn't felt like speaking much in the aftermath of the battle, and she was quietly thankful that nobody had forced her to. The others seemed to have the situation at least somewhat handled, but Claire herself was still a little lost with what to do. She felt like she should do something, but she didn't really want to talk at all.

"I... guess I should see if anything useful is on board the other boats." The mage shrugged to herself, figuring that doing something was better than nothing at all. In all likelihood anything useful on the vessels would have already have been taken by the Deirans, but maybe they'd left something behind? Claire sighed. She wasn't enthusiastic about it at all, but it couldn't hurt at all to take a look.

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"I'll accompany you," Constance said to Claire. She didn't have much more to add to the conversation about boats, and she wasn't keen on letting anyone wander off along after such a distressing battle. Least of all Claire, who had been so close to the destruction of the houses.

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Eric put himself on standby during the boat conversation. He had no idea what he could do on a boat. His expertise was limited to swinging pointy metal sticks.

However, his ears perked up when Constance offered to go inspect the boats with Claire. They're both spellcasters, right? Yeah, that feels right...Having two in the same place..."Uh...You mind if I help out with that, too? I know three's a crowd, but...I dunno, I don't have any seaworthy skills or knowledge or whatever, and hey, maybe if Deirans hid something on the boat, I'll recognize a hiding spot or...something." It's a pretty obvious and flimsy excuse, but I can't think of a better one.

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Salty Sailors

"I'm not giving you a hard time because I think you're hopeless, but this is something we need to get right." Esclabor replied, crossing his arms. "If Prince Owen's happy to have you calling the shots, that's fine by me, you or Ceirch or even Serge if he were the man for the job, whoever's the best for the job. I just want to make sure that he knows what he's in for. The last thing we need is for the ship to sink miles away from dry land."

Decima sighed, shaking her head. "I wonder why Baron Nelon is even friends with him sometimes..." she muttered, just out of earshot of Esclabor. She approached Sidney, giving her a cheeky grin. "I'm glad we can help, Charlotte. We can see how the skies are, if they're clear then the waters might be good too. I wish I knew more about boats, the small one's probably no good... but do we even have enough people for the big one?"
 

Blade and Ballista

Vesta shook Suleiman's hand enthusiastically, looking up at his bald head. "I was originally hired by Serge... but then he left and... came back? It's a little confusing, but I think Esclabor's technically in charge now. I'm more than happy to go wherever, it gives me more chances to test out my ballista... although it's not exactly cheap to keep running." she replied, letting out a sigh. "I was wondering about things like throwing spears. It's a similar principle to ballistics, but they never seem to be particularly effective. If I could design something, I'm sure someone like you would be able to make it!"
 

Boating Outing

The three boats were all docked at the port, none of them showing any signs of life. The largest vessel looked like it was ready to be unloaded, crates and barrels were littered around the gangplank to be transferred, but they never were. An unsettling air seeped from the boat, one that was all too familiar to Claire and Constance. It was faint, but a few creaks of wooden planks sounded from within the boat. Nelon stood alongside Constance and Claire, his hand trembling subtlely. 

"I feel it too. A familiar sense of dread... it reminds me of that place." Nelon muttered, reluctantly stepping one foot forwards. "I may see a reason why there are no Deiran troops present... they may be somewhere else entirely, if at all in existence."

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Constance walked to the boats in silence with Claire and the others. She didn't particularly want anyone else accompanying them, sensing Claire wanted to be a lone, but she supposed Claire probably had the exact same opinion towards her. As they drew closer, an unsettling feeling began to grip her. She noticed it coming from the largest boat. She gave Claire a knowing glance, but to her surprise, it was the Wykian noble who first spoke.

"So you were there too," Constance muttered. She looked up at the boat. "It definitely reeks of Malaphar. He's been on it, though for what reason I can't guess. I heard one of you say he had some kind of devotees working under him in Magonsaete? Perhaps he's transported an army loyal to him into Mycia. I wonder if there's anyone alive around here that can tell us its history." She shuddered. "Every part of me wants to see this thing in flames, but we best investigate. There might be some kind of relic on board emitting this foul stench."

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