Angelcynn: The Myrcian Conflict - Act 5 Magonsaete Route

[Nanami Touko]

Of course you would. Cassandra grit her teeth, Graham's mentioning of how things used to be hadn't helped her, nor was Alain's insistence that she had no time to work through this. She knew that, but what was she supposed to do, bury all of what she used to be, to get away from what haunted her? Like it was that easy. Even trying to replace her with someone else, the pain of loss was still to prevalent, having them hurt did the same as remembering her mistakes. Use it as a reminder, how? There are no answers for this. She ended up sighing, a dull apathy wriggling its way in. The group had already turned attentions towards Malaphar, and that was greater than them all, her issues and their concerns alike.

"All I know of his powers is that, his control over reality is very real. In our last altercation with him, he managed to warp several people away to who knows where, only for them to return moments later through my brother's lucky intervention. If he's only gotten stronger since then, I don't know what we're supposed to be doing against him. Again, he can bleed, I don't believe for a moment he's managed some mystical invulnerability... But getting him to do so now will likely be much harder than it was before." Where even had his powers come from, how far had they progressed? She hadn't seen him for the longest while.

"If he's here trying to create some unity in the tribes, I would assume he's looking to create an army. Magonsaete is vast, his powers just as grand in scale, if he could round up the tribes under the promise of his magnificence, he would have a force to do whatever he wished on the continent. So we either find and stop him, or we stop what he's trying to create. Easier said than done, yes, but unless Belial is whispering anything else to either of us," Cass paused a moment, glancing at Alain. "Then Emmet, curse him, is probably our best direction. Wouldn't mind having his head come off a second time."

[Ether]

Despite no one seeming to listen to her input on the matter, at the very least the conflict seemed to have died down for now. They had shifted to speaking of this Malaphar fellow again, and with him another name came up. Emmet... normally this name would have meant nothing, but it seemed to mean something to Cassandra, who made a very... peculiar comment.

"A second time? That usually be the sorta thing that can only happen once to ye... care t'explain?"

[Shin]

Headless Hazard

"Sir Dunn would seem to be an appropriate messenger for Malaphar. It is somewhat troubling that he remained among Prince Owen's party for so long with his intentions going unnoticed." Sebastian mused, recalling Emmet's suspect behaviour in retrospect. "If he has truly gained immortality alongside Arteria and Appellon, simply removing his head may not be sufficient. However, Malaphar does not seem to share said immortality. When he had returned to our camp, he was in need of healing. Surely if he were also capable of escaping death, he would not require such attention? I feel there is vital information that we still lack. There is something about the vial that he wishes to avoid."

Aurelio was completely lost, as was Graham. Neither of them had been present for the group's Magonsaete journey and had not experienced the madness behind most of the journey. "The vial? Like back at Dettard's castle?" Graham asked, finally finding something he could connect to. "I knew that it was important to him, but I didn't realise it was so powerful... can it really make people immortal?"

"This Emmet made it sound as if he would return in the near future." Hera added, the surreal nature of the group's circumstances far beyond anything she'd faced before. She paused for a minute, putting her hand to her chin as she thought. "He had approached from the west and departed to the east. There may be other tribes that he wishes to contact for this Malaphar. I fear that they may be swayed by the same promises I was."

[Nanami Touko]

"There's some magic Malaphar uses to keep a select few of his minions immortal. We still don't know how it works... But my brother beheaded this Emmet for betraying us to Malaphar's side, yet if he's still around, he must now be undying like the others under his command. That's all there is to it, for now..." Off to the east, was he? Cass sighed. "Then we should do what we can to rest, and once the storm lets up, begin to make our way after him. This is about as good a lead as any... And maybe we can stop him from selling more of Malaphar's lies to the rest of the tribes in the area." If they could manage to kill him, however that worked.

[Moblin Major General]

"Rest... That's probably what we've been wanting for most. I doubt anyone got rest in that wretched cave that hadn't been used to such. This fort is little better, but we should take what we can get when we can get it. Engel has afforded us much, I just hope we can pay him back by dealing with this tyrant before his power grows to rival the gods themselves. Otherwise, death will be the least of our worries. " Astaroth turned to Hera. "I think it's time we introduce ourselves to your people, or what's left of them. They don't have to forgive us, but they should understand the fault lies only with one person, and that we will atone by finding the one who deceived you." He waited for Hera to take them all to where all the other Aega were.

[Vestige]

"Now that you mention it, hadn't Emmet been on some forlorn quest to locate the Fountain of Ages? At least, that's what I think he called it," Alain muttered, rubbing his chin. "It wouldn't surprise me if this entire escapade on behalf of Malaphar is simply a pretense to sweep the country in search of it. Despite not using it on himself, he does seem quite keen on collecting and distributing the elixir," he noted. "Just speculation, of course. I suppose it doesn't change our objective as things currently stand anyway, but it might be something to keep in mind." 

[Ether]

A lot of things were being thrown around, a fountain of ages, an elixir that seemed to grant immortality? It was all rather strange, and Sylvia was caught out of her depth for a moment, before chiming in.

"So ye took the man's head off n'he just... got up and walked away? How d'ya expect t'deal with someone like that? Burn th'corpse? Brine 'im and sink the barrel t'the bottom o' the ocean with an anchor? Y'all've gotten into even crazier shit n'I expected."

[Shin]

Elixir of Life

"An elixir that grants ever-lasting life?" Hera asked, less surprised than perhaps expected. "I recall a story that I heard as a child... a fabled fountain that could grant immortality to those who find it along with great power. It never occurred to me that it could be real, let alone that people had found it and were using its power. It was many years ago, but it is a story that was told by our elders. Most of them have passed on, I fear the tale may be lost to time. There may be other tribes that know of it, but it may be difficult to find."

Sebastian nodded, piecing together the information that they had. It was starting to make sense, but an end goal and motive were still lacking. "The tale appears to be true, unfortunately Master Javier's notes on it were rather sparse." he commented. "A folklore tale may be our best source of information, especially if we can find it in its entirety."

"I'm sorry I couldn't be much more help, I would gladly offer some assistance... but I don't have men that could fight alongside you. I pray my tribe will regain its strength and honour. One day I hope we will be able to be part of a unified Magonsaete."

-

Mid-Morning May 27th 812 - Magonsaete Plains
 

Naimanzuunnadintsetseg's wounds had taken their time to heal, but Sebastian had managed to get her into a condition to travel. The hills had begun to die down, the mounds stretching out into larger flat fields. Alain's undead army had rejoined Cass' ranks, glad to have returned after their banishment. Sebastian had taken the mantle as navigator, conferring with the natives in order to best plan their route. The weather was behaving itself for the time being, although so far their experience had been rather varied.

"So, there's a magic fountain that gives people super powers and stops them from dying? Kind of hard to believe, but it sounds like you're not joking about Malaphar." Aurelio remarked, walking alongside the group's caravan. "You'd think somebody else would have come and tried to find it. I mean, Raewald or Deira would have enough people to go look for it."

"In a country full of capable fighters, who aren't fond of visitors?" Sebastian mused, casting a wry grin. Aurelio went quiet, fully expecting what was going to come next. "I believe that Baron Esclabor had kindly demonstrated how effective such a method would be. What does intrigue me is how this links to the conflict between Raewald and Deira... as well as Baron Dettard's endeavours."

The group came to a fork in the path, three trails splitting off into different directions. A wooden sign with foreign, to Cass, Alain and Graham, characters marked the destinations. The northern-most  path was labelled "Asarais", with the others being "Medeina" and "Iitschi".

"It appears that we have a few options regarding our destination. Miss Hera had briefly informed me of her neighbours. Whilst more distant, the Asarais may be the most pleasant, I'm certain Chief Astaroth would attest to that. Otherwise the remaining two are not particularly friendly, I may have to rely on our native companions for more information though." Sebastian announced, looking ahead. "If we were able to determine which way Sir Dun had travelled it may be beneficial to chase him. However, it may also be advisable to select one likely to bear new allies."

If a native character would like to have input, please run it by me first!

[Moblin Major General]

Astaroth looked to the north. Home. More than anything did I want to not be in the places I was. But I can't abandon neither the Princess nor my people, and Cassandra needs to know I'm worthy of her respect. So, if I can, I should try to convince her to head north, back to home. Astaroth turned to Cassandra. "Princess, I think it wise that our quest for allies turn  to those that would follow you more easily. Asarais is farther than the others, of course, but it's less likely to end in conflict. I know not of Iitschi, but I know enough of Medeina to say clearly that a fight would be unavoidable. Let us take the long path to my home, for it would be well worth the journey for all of us, not least of all myself and those two." He looked back at Barry and Paul. He then thought  about what Naiman might bring to the conversation." Unless, Naiman, you have something to add? Your woman may have something to add, too. " As he awaited Naiman's reply, he sat still on his horse.

[Nanami Touko]

Roadsigns, here in Magonsaete? It felt oddly modern for such a tribal country, but it was helpful. Where to go, though...? New allies, hmm? Of course, Astaroth was the first to speak up, and he wished to turn tail towards home. What good would that do them, though? As far as Cass was concerned, if Astaroth wasn't going to give up on this cause, then he was already their ally... And as leader of his tribe, that meant his people would follow, if they cared so greatly for him. His advice of the Medeina clan being up for a fight either way was taken to note, though. Cass would've preferred to avoid a sure fight if possible, they'd been running themselves ragged with fighting for a while, now. The Iitschi it was, then... "I'm of a mind to head towards the Iitschi, then," Cass began to reply, formulating best how to make her thoughts known.

"If you're going to continue to hold stock in this journey, and follow me, I'm going to trust that you're on my side... And if your people trust you, I would assume that puts them in a similar position, following their chieftain. If we're to find new allies, let us go for the uncertain group, and see if we can talk them out turning on us, like the rest have so far. Unless, Alain, your ghost can tell us which way Emmet went? That is much more pressing to me, so I'm of a mind to follow that first, and head for allies second. If he ended up going towards the Iitschi, then two birds, one stone."

[Vestige]

"I see your logic, but to say that we can easily put off regrouping with the Asarai's is a bit of a mistaken sentiment," Alain proclaimed, running his fingers along the road signs.

"Judging from our encounter with Hera, it's clear to me that Malaphar already has a good idea of our whereabouts, and our plans. It's going to leave quite a poor impression if we bring the Litschi, or whoever, back with us and show them the results of Malaphar's handiwork. If we're lucky, Emmet is in this area on his own--but even then, I would still be wary of him paying the Asarai a visit before us," he said, beckoning Spook's towards him.

"At the very least, I am in agreement that Emmet should be made our priority if possible. Finishing him off will likely buy us some much needed time to move through this part of the country. And we wont have to worry about them converting neutral parties into enemies like they did with Hera," he added. 

"So, might you have any idea where our friend Emmet has gone? He's a dead man, if that helps," Alain said, projecting an image in his mind for Spooks to see. It was a bit of a stretch, but if the fountain's elixir really was connected with Belial like Claire had said, then perhaps Spooks would be able to hone in on that connection. 

[Balcerzak]

Naimanzuunnadintsetseg had spent a night of fitful, uneasy sleep, marred by nightmares. Not all of her dreams had been bad, but enough had to sour the whole experience. The worst had long past when she'd reached that bizarre haze of a slow, natural waking, where the mind flitted between several unconnected fragments of memory, still swept up in a dreamstate but with much more of reality splashed in. Today's offerings featured her talk with the princess leading into her first successful raid, this then rudely interrupted by the disaster that was her wedding which was somehow saved by her chat with Alain. Only temporarily, though before she relived her first failed battle and the messy retreat that followed, and then hot on the heels of that came that last hunting mission she'd led, and finally her meeting with Sylvia. Finally having had enough of the past lazily rolling in one after the other, the plainswoman pushed her eyelids up, then pushed herself off the ground.

Even the best of healing was never perfect. While great credit was due to Sebastian, as Naimanzuunnadintsetseg still lived and breathed--and even more, she mercifully found that things had indeed been fortunate enough that her face was unscarred--in the midst of her morning routines, she had discovered a small patch of flesh on one of her shoulderblades that felt almost like a slightly twisted spiderweb, rising up from its surroundings. It didn't impair her movement, nor would it be obvious under ordinary circumstances, but it seemed she would forever carry a grim reminder of what happened when one let their guard down for even an instant against magic.

Considerably more coherent than when she'd been carried there last night, she learned of the clutch negotiating that had brought an end to their most recent fight, as well as the darker troubles that still loomed over their heads--heralded by one who had lost his. They were weighty matters for consideration, but a journey waits for none, and so they were on the road again before Naimanzuunnadintsetseg had fully digested everything. It seemed she was not the only one, still chewing things over, as the warrior Aurelio mused aloud about that fool fountain story as they had stopped at a fork in the road, while the rest of them were inspecting the area and deciding which path to take.

Personally, the plainswoman ill-liked all choices. Shaking her head, Naimanzuunnadintsetseg did her best to put her thoughts together in a way that would be easy to explain, and simple to swallow. "While the Asarai were too far away to even be considered worth the effort, my tribe did at times war against both the Medeina and the Iitschi." She closed her eyes, remembering one scene in particular involving some defeated Mediena. While she and her people hadn't done anything that wouldn't have been done to them if they had been on the losing end of a raid instead, and while everyone living in Magonsaete was fully aware of the law of the plains, she couldn't help but feel there was a better way.

Dispelling old demons, Naimanzuunnadintsetseg came back to the present. Opening her eyes again, she added to the conversation. "I cannot speak with any certainty where this emissary of Malaphar's might be, but my opinion is that the Medeina might be more receptive toward a promise of power. Though fearsome in their own right, compared to the Iitschi they were always the easier target of the two."

Pressing her lips into a thin line, she continued, "While I am hesitant to agree to a suggestion where we all head north, and out of our way, when it should be simple enough for Astaroth to dispatch his loyal pair of reliable retainers to inform the others and direct them to converge and meet with us at another location, it it hard to fully deny the specter of doom Alain has raised. And returning home to find it destroyed and devoid of kith and kin is something I would wish on no man," she turned a sympathetic gaze to the other chieftain. "Even so, I would prefer to press on elsewhere... though that may not be possible. Of the remaining two... both will certainly recognize my face. We were never quite as successful in our efforts against the Iitschi, so I suspect they would hate me less, but it is hard to say for certain." A pause, and she continued, "...Some appeasement may be demanded of me regardless, whichever of the two we decide to entreat."

It was far from a firm endorsement, and it wasn't meant to be. For the moment, this was simply the information sharing step, and all three ways held some merit, in her eyes. It would be unjust to deny it and plead otherwise. If this Emmet was really being sent to court those who might be willing to bend a knee to Malaphar, it felt more likely to her that he would be at Mediena. To seek new allies a little less likely to slam the door in her face over the happenings of past, they should try the Iitschi. But to be sure to prevent a repeat of the disaster that befell the Ulagan... perhaps they really should go to save the Asarai personally, lost time to travel be damned. If Alain's foul minion came up with new information, that might make the decision for them. If not, they would have to decide which option seemed least likely to betray them.

 

(Many Questions)

 

Now was as good a time as any, Naimanzuunnadintsetseg figured. It was day two in the Belialists' lair, and she was a little restless, so she decided to indulge in something that had been kicking around the back of her head but just hadn't found the proper time for yet. The plainswoman needed to have a solid, one-on-one chat with Alain. How exactly he was connected to the princess? Just what his allegiances were? Those sorts of questions, the answers to which were now more relevant to her than ever. He'd done decently enough at supper last night to dial back a few of her suspicions, his own frustrations with members the party aside, when it was revealed that he wasn't entirely on a united front with the rest of the cultists--the way he'd dealt with Raum's poor humor regarding the lake and the possible fate of poor Hiero definitely scored some major points. But there was much about the man she still didn't fully trust. Not the least of which, his meddling with fell magicks. But how much of that was undue prejudice? Once again, she noticed her fingers were lightly running over the wound that had been healed through similar supernatural meddling. It brought uncomfortable notions to mind, and Naimanzuunnadintsetseg frowned.

Luckily the man did not prove hard to find. Naimanzuunnadintsetseg had located him alone in a room that appeared to be a small library of kinds, with one musty tome in hand and another lying closed upon the table. Ducking under the arch of the doorway, she pushed her way into the room and quietly addressed him, her expression calm but serious. "I must confess, you are a difficult fellow to get a read on. What exactly is your angle here?" Perhaps it was far too vague, but her mind had been swirling with all the associated matters for long enough that she failed to register that Alain might lack for context.

 

 

With the ordeal of Malaphar quickly approaching, Alain had been spending the better part of his time cooped up the cultist's 'library'. In terms of presence it was a far cry from something like Wihtwar's grand library. But the cultists had done a fine job of preserving whatever documents they'd had laying around--the contents of which he had been pouring over for hours at a time. He had at best another few days to figure things out without any major disturbances, and he intended to make use of the opportunity. Time was of the utmost essence.

That being said then, Naiman had perhaps caught him at one of the worst times imaginable. At first glance perhaps things had been looking fairly innocuous to her, but a closer examination would quickly betray the true nature of his ghastly set-up. Crimson tipped tools lay cupped in the corner of the scarlet tinted table, and fresh blood was slowly pooling onto a chalk drawn rune resting beside his foot.

He was quietly muttering a string of incomprehensible words under his breath. The start of a foul ritual by the definition of more than a few. The huntress' presence hadn't even registered to him, and he continued his subdued chanting for a while longer. It wasn't until a few tense minutes had passed that, without warning, Alain whipped his head towards the would-be intruder, and offered her a scalding rebuke.

"Damn it! Burn in hell you damn bastard! What part of 'I am not to be disturbed' was so hard for you to understand?!" he hissed, sending his tome flying across the room. There was a scowl on his face the likes of which neither Naiman, nor anyone else traveling with him, had ever seen before.

It wasn't until his spell of madness had left him that he realized the person standing beside him was neither Raum, nor a cultist, but in fact, Naiman. He cupped his face in his hands and let out a burdened sigh, shaking his head in profound disbelief. No doubt his fatigue was catching up to him.

He threw his hands up with a look of remorse and began to plead forgiveness."I beg your pardon--nay, I beg eight-hundred pardons," he muttered sheepishly, leaning back in his chair. Suddenly the room was feeling quite hot for him. Strange, that. Wasn't the temperature below ground supposed to be more temperate?

He let out another sigh, and pointed to a nearby shelf. "Would you mind bringing me that cup of water?"

 

 

Was he deliberately ignoring her? Or had he just not heard her, engrossed in whatever he was up to? She hadn't knocked, true, but she hadn't exactly whispered either, her words should have been heard.  Lips slipping into a bit of a frown, she tapped her foot idly awhile, waiting a bit longer for a response. Soon enough, her eyes began to rove though, wandering the room a bit, only to find themselves quickly arrested by the curious metal tools laying on one corner of the table. Clamps, calipers, and... what was that last one even used for? All dyed suspiciously red at their business ends.

Naimanzuunnadintsetseg's gaze quickly snapped back to the man, still chanting under his breath, mid-ritual of some kind. Bemoaning her ignorance of all things magical, and unsure whether it would be more dangerous to interrupt whatever was going on, or to let it proceed to completion, she dropped into a ready posture, lowering her center of gravity and bending her knees, getting herself prepared to react to most of the imaginable outcomes.

Still, the sudden surprise of Alain's indignant outrage wasn't exactly expected, and the plainswoman flinched backward, reversing the slow and cautious approach she'd begun to take, moving further into the room, trying to get a better look. A quick step and a half backwards, resting her weight on her rear leg as she met the wild glare the man shot her with a stern look of her own, barely managing to have avoided the thrown tome.

His frenzy passed almost as soon as it had come, however, thankfully, and he was already begging her pardons. And he'd found enough wit to add in a lightly playful personal reference, earning a bit of a snort from her, though despite herself the corners of her lips turned slightly upwards. His contrition seemed genuine enough, but even so, she remained guarded. Still, his current request was reasonable, and as long as she kept watch for any oddity in his behavior that may betray some coming danger, they both were better served if she humored him, rather than taking any drastic measures of her own.

"You had many answers I wished to hear before," Naimanzuunnadintsetseg coolly remarked, circling her way to the indicated shelf and picking up the glass of water in question. "Now it seems you've added even more. For your sake, I sincerely hope you have a good explanation for all of this." She started to reach her arm out to hand it to him, but paused halfway. Adding, "This is an awfully deep hole you seem to have dug for yourself, after all," she set it down instead on the near end of the table, the corner opposite the one holding the macabre implements.

 

 

"Indeed..." he replied, taking a few scant sips from his cup. He felt like a babe being scolded by his mother. Not with anger, but with a subdued disappointment that could cut deeper than any spoken word. He held her gaze for a moment before looking away to the table, to his instruments, and finally to bloodied rune on the floor. He remained silent for a while longer--the passage of time marked only by a few lengthy sighs every now and again.

Finally, he shrugged, laying his arm bare on the table as he worked the remaining water over his wounds. He wasn't entirely sure what sort of information she was hoping to get out of him, but if she was curious enough to ask then so be it. He let out another hiss, wincing as his wounds came back to life with brazen delight.

"You're probably the last person I should be telling this--but since I was going to get found out sooner or later, I suppose I'll tell you the truth," he muttered. There wasn't much of a point for him to speak in complexities, so he decided to lay it out as simply as he could. Whether she decided to believe him or not was her own prerogative.

"For your purpose you can think of it as bringing the dead back to life. It's not quite just that, but perhaps that'll be more believable for you than the alternative," he said, letting out a quiet chuckle. He pulled out a ragged cloth and began dressing his wounds as best he could. Getting Kelbara to heal him would have been ideal, but dripping blood through the cavern halls was likely going to raise some questions among the rest of his companions. This would have to suffice for the time being.

"I imagine I've given you quite a lot to think about already. Care to stomach any more answers, or will that be all for this evening?" It was a bit of a rhetorical question but he figured he would be courteous and ask anyway. Perhaps she would excuse herself after all.

 

 

The man's relative calm and silence was a positive--although somewhat annoying--reaction to her accusatory approach. If he'd fallen into nervousness, or been otherwise restless, ashamed, or guilty seeming, that would have been a dead giveaway he were up to something he knew he shouldn't have been. Alain's current posture meant that, at the least, he felt whatever he'd working at was in the right. ...Or he was adept enough to cloak his true feelings, a possibility that shouldn't be wholly discarded. Naimanzuunnadintsetseg barely resisted the urge to sigh herself, following one of Alain's more vocal such utterances, but for the moment managed to control it. If this waiting game progressed much longer though, there was no guarantee she could keep up her patience forever.

The plainswoman's frown deepened as she followed his gaze to the floor, its target an illegible scrawl of blood and chalk. Whose blood--or what's--a question that had been floating around since spying the tools laid out on the table, was quickly answered as he pushed up a sleeve of his robes and began to bandage himself. And that was yet another small point in his favor; if the man was dabbling in foul rituals, at least he wasn't involving any unwilling victims.

However what modest gains he might have been making in her eyes were swiftly erased at the notion of 'bringing the dead back to life'. "Wha--" came a quick cry of disgust and disbelief, before she managed to close her mouth and let him continue his explanation.

Once he'd finished, Naimanzuunnadintsetseg spat at the bloody drawing. "What a mockery of the natural order! And I don't suppose you give them the choice whether their rest is disturbed or not, before you pull them back from beyond the veil? And then what, you enthrall them to do your bidding? In what world is such behavior just?"

If the shades had known the stakes ahead of time... perhaps. If such consequences were at least implicitly understood, that might have been something. But such a notion was inconceivable, borderline incomprehensible. She had to hope against hope he had spoke too glibly with his oversimplification, because otherwise she doubted she could ever stomach such a nefarious deed.

Naimanzuunnadintsetseg paused, grinding her teeth in frustration, realizing there was little she could actually do about the situation whatever his answer may be. Furthermore, she felt a little upset at herself for having been pulled so far afield from her original purpose, but with such revelations it was hard not to be. Raising a hand to massage her temple, the plainswoman made mental note to speak to the princess and find out just how much she knew of and condoned such behavior, before trying to return the conversation to what she'd hoped to learn.

"What exactly is your connection to Princess Cassandra? You're obviously not a bondsman, but I cannot figure out just how you fit into her entourage." And what exactly your true aims are, was the further thought that went unspoken. Earlier at the meeting with the elders he had spoken of his wish to end this wizard Malaphar, but how this enmity had arisen--the way he'd phrased things made it sound like it was something more of a personal matter, rather than just an item of good policy--or what part Sandy had to play in it all was still very much the mystery to the plainswoman. "Titled noble subject? Royal advisor of some capacity? Acquaintance met during travel? ...Hopeful suitor?" As Naimanzuunnadintsetseg finished rattling off the last of her random guesses, her lips curled up into a slight smile despite herself.

 

 

"Oh come now, don't be like that," he replied, tying a final knot into his bandage. He couldn't fault the woman for her thinking, but her concerns came across as comical at best. And had he known that Naiman was planning to find solace with Cassandra, he would have burst out in unrelenting laughter. She herself had been complicit in such practices. She was the last person he would tolerate any sort of objections from.  

"Suppose I do enthrall them. Then what? Are you going to whine about it like a petulant child, hoping I'll stop?" he asked coolly, narrowing his gaze onto her. She met his eyes with a look of abject frustration and disgust.

She pulled it off even better than most noblewomen he knew.

He sighed. "You shouldn't be so critical of me. After all, we both have a lot of blood on our hands. But between the two of us, I'm the only one trying to give some of it back," he said, weakly holding up his bandaged arm.   

He leaned back in his chair, cracking a slight smile. What really surprised him was how quickly she'd believed him. She was laughing about Belial not too long ago, yet now the idea of resurrecting the dead elicited dreadful concern rather than haughty incredulity. It was a curious shift, but not one he cared enough to understand.

"You know, you shouldn't scowl so much. I notice you take to the expression quite often," he mused, idly inspecting his handiwork. "It's unbecoming of such a pleasant flower to parade such dangerous thorns in the open. You should try being more like the native flora. You know, the ones you told me about? Big beautiful petals hiding a stalk full of thorns," he teased, rubbing his fingers together in a show of discomfort.

"But enough of that. I suppose I should answer your real question, right? No, I'm not courting Cassandra. Nor do I answer to her in any meaningful way," he scoffed, rolling his eyes. Was she trying to be coy? Because if so, she needed to stop immediately. It was weirding him out.

"You could have asked her all this too you know. I'm sure she's found the time to chat you up already--more than once even," he said, turning his chair to face her properly. "But I'll humor you, since you went through all the trouble after all. I'm a vassal of her Majesty, Queen Ethel of Raewald. My full title is Sir Alain, Lord of Duhamel. I met Cassandra during a diplomatic meeting with her brother, Prince Owen," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"And that's the long and short of it. You may now sleep peacefully knowing who I am, and where I come from. Or... not. Because now you need to ask me what you really want to know, isn't that right?" he asked, a knowing smile on his face. "Why not grab a chair and sit a little closer? It's nice to chat face to face, no?"  

 

 

'A petulant child' was a bit much, Naimanzuunnadintsetseg's nostrils flared as she met his gaze with anger and disgust. But it really was rather on the mark. Anything she could think of to do to stop him would have repercussions she was not willing to incur. She would have to settle for a half-measure, and stomach her distaste for the practice as best she could. The man had her beat, and he knew it. But surprisingly he didn't leverage the advantage even further, instead moving to a bit of levity with a weak joke. She closed her eyes and shook her head. She really didn't understand what made him tick, that much was clear.

Where Alain took things next was down yet another unexpected lane of conversation, easily conveyed to him by the look of surprise that overtook her face. To focus on a thing like that? She was almost inclined to tell him some trite phrase, like 'This is the face I was born with,' but... it really wasn't. Naimanzuunnadintsetseg had rather purposefully taken to assuming such mannerisms, the better impress upon her people a sense of manliness and her rightful station. She did not look forward to another chat such as the one she'd had with Sandy, trying to get him too to understand. Caught up in her own thoughts as much as she was, she almost missed the forest for the trees. But all of a sudden her attention was arrested. Unable to place exactly what caused it, she simply latched curiously on to the nugget of idea that presented, and proceeded to examine it further.

Alain doesn't much scowl, not near so often as she did at least. Sure, the occasional bout of anger, but that's anyone. Nobody denies he's a man. And there's also that attendant of the man who seemed to hang on the princess's every word, what was his name again--Sebastian? Even in the worst of times he seemed filled with a sort of humor, droll as it may be.  But--another part of her mind intruded--do not forget, they have already got an advantage on you. It must be easy, not having to make up for lost ground. Still...

If the diplomat hadn't made mention of the matter of the thistle--paid attention enough to her description of the flower, remembered it, and brought up facts about it which she had not shared with him... indicating he'd either researched further, or had already known in the first place, yet played along regardless--she surely would have discarded the notion entirely. But something about that level of attentiveness was winning, and perhaps there was even more evidence for his point after all. Neither do the wildcats of the plains walk around with claws bared all the time, they save them for when they are needed. How much she would shift her attitude in response to the new ideas was up in the air, but not having them immediately discarded could only be counted a victory for the Lord of Duhamel, as listening to him continue went on to reveal.

Naimanzuunnadintsetseg nodded at his explanations, satisfied with the responses, and entirely missing any signs of slight discomfort they may have caused him. It was true, she could have asked the princess, she reflected, but there had been other matters much more prominent every time. If the topic of the resident dark mage had been raised, perhaps the plainswoman may have inquired then, but there was no point speculating too much on what-might-have-beens. A diplomat, an envoy of the Raewaldian Queen. That was impetus enough for a man of his station to hold very large stake in the goings on of a princess of a neighboring kingdom--and without any unsavory interests. Sure, it was entirely likely--nay, expected even--that he would attempt to manipulate the situation to his nation's favor. But with that in the open, and knowing what to look for, well if they ended up getting played, then it would only be their fault for not having enough skill in the game.

Curiousity sated, she was preparing herself to make one last, possibly futile request as regarded his efforts at summoning spirits, when Naimanzuunnadintsetseg found herself once again with the rug pulled out from under her, metaphorically speaking. Her real question? What she really wanted to know? But that was... she'd come here for...? Her heartrate sped up, thoughts aswirl for a moment. She'd accomplished her mission, yet... he wasn't exactly wrong. This man was dangerous. Very skilled at the arts of reading a person, picking up even on the things they might not have known about themselves so much as they thought they did. Frightening, but in an altogether different way.

Very well. Grabbing a chair by the top of its back and spinning it over to her, the last chieftan of the Ulagan took a seat. It was a bit of a struggle to get the words out, the taste they left behind was indescribably foul, but there was no turning back now.

"Teach me, if you would... More about magic. I cannot fight... what I do not understand," Naimanzuunnadintsetseg cast her eyes to the ground as she finished, hoping to escape the knowing look of triumph that was surely crossing his face only to be betrayed by the unpleasant sight of the bloodstained rune. There was no hiding from this new reality.

 

 

"Okay. No, stop, stop," he blurted out, shaking his head and his hands in unison. "I know I was the one who brought it up, but you can't go from acting like the tough warrior to the demure noblewoman all in one sitting." He turned away from her, covering his mouth with his hand. Better she didn't see him smiling, or he feared she might feel her honor being threatened in some way.

Just what on earth was happening though? Was Naimanzuunnadintsetseg, the fearsome beast of the plains, expressing a genuine interest in magic, of all things? Despite what she'd just seen? Or was she just trying to cozy up to him now that she knew he had a title? The latter seemed more likely of the two, but even keeping that in mind he couldn't help himself. And he hated that.

He took a deep breath and tried to straighten out as best he could. "I'm not saying you should stop, but I need a bit of a warning, you know?" He tapped her leg gently with his foot, trying to meet her gaze. First the tent, and now this. This woman was a danger to his sanity. Either she knew what she was doing, or she didn't--and that was an even more frightening proposition.   

"Ahem. In any case, I would be happy to oblige your request, but perhaps it would behoove you to be more specific? 'Magic' is a vast subject and whilst I could inundate you with whatever knowledge I find relevant--I'm afraid I may bore you to death," he admitted, casually reeling his chair back a little.

 

 

Demure noblewoman? Had her reluctance, and the slight flush of shame when making that embarrassing request, given off that impression? Or was Alain making a joke to ease the tension? With the trouble Naimanzuunnadintsetseg had reading the man, she'd no real way of knowing, but for now it couldn't hurt to go with the more charitable interpretation. Snickering a little, she raised her face once again.

"You must think very highly of yourself, to assume that your advice had such immediate effect," the plainswoman smiled. Confidence was a positive trait, so long as one did not let oneself get blinded by it. Angling her ankle and extending her toes, she lightly poked him back in the shin, trading jab for jab. "But fear not, this thistle has not lost its sting."

Swinging her legs back beneath the chair, Naimanzuunnadintsetseg leaned forward, over the edge of her seat. He was agreeing, willingly, and should prove an excellent resource. But when asked where exactly they should start... A slight frown wrinkled her lips. Not her usual scowl of displeasure, but the more neutral look of uncertainty.

"I'm not interested for the sake of using it myself," she began after a pause, deciding to lead with the obvious. "So any of your usual lessons with that goal in mind can be discarded. I... likely have so many misconceptions that need correcting. Is it true that magic is tied to the lunar cycle? Must we wait for the moon to go dark before we engage this Malaphar? If an enemy is in the middle of a ritual is it safe to kill them before they conclude it, or will the unfinished magic reach out to claim what it needs from whoever remains nearby? How does..."

Naimanzuunnadintsetseg stopped. She was speaking too fast, thoughts now running out her mouth just as soon as they entered her head. If she continued like this, there would be no way he could keep up. Reaching her hands down between her knees, she curled her fingers around the frame of the chair. No, she should finish this last thought at least, then let him sort through the tangle as best he could. "How does channeling it affect the user? Surely not everyone who dabbles will end up a husk like those elders, right?"

There were many, many other questions left on her mind, so much more to ask. Was the traditional ward against the evil eye effective? Was there a way to dispel a grudge once invoked? And the list goes on. But perhaps many would be invalidated before she even got to ask them. She should wait, hear the answers to these most important ones to start with. Maybe just this amount of direction would be enough for Alain to move forward on his own, even.

 

 

Alain let out a huff, playfully rolling his eyes at Naiman's retort. It was nice to know she had a bit of wit to her bite. Though, all things considered, it was quite amusing just how much of his antics she was willing to put up with. They weren't exactly strangers, but to say they were close friends was just as much a lie. Not to mention the situation between the two hadn't exactly been pleasant the last couple of days.

"Quite the list you have there," he finally said. It seemed there was even more to come, but she'd stop herself out of consideration.

How thoughtful.

Surprisingly, some of her questions were quite astute. One was... a bit questionable, but he figured it came with the territory. At least she was making the effort.

"So, first of all, magic is not tied to the lunar cycle, and I imagine Malaphar will have little care for the appearance of the moon. Or the sun for that matter. That being said, Malaphar is a bit of an anomaly among my kind. His capabilities far surpass what one might reasonably expect. So to answer your next question, in most cases a spell will simply fail to manifest if the caster is rendered incapacitated. But when it comes to Malaphar, I would urge you to be cautious," he said.   

Her last question was where things got interesting for the both of them. It was more personal to him in nature, given who he was, and what he'd been doing for the last several months. To that end, he was left in silent contemplation while he tried to devise a proper answer to her question.

"...Generally speaking, channeling magic in and of itself has negligible effects on a person provided they are not exerting themselves beyond their means. A spell can manifest with unintended negative repercussions--sometimes to the tune of an untimely death--though that is, as I said, generally something attributed either to inexperience or hubris," he explained.  

That was the reason that magical studies lasted as long as they did. True magic wasn't even practiced until at least three to four years after enrollment. It was also why natural magical talent was hardly ever realized. To the outsider it might look as easy as snapping a finger, but the reality was closer to snapping your fingers without moving them.

"But in getting to your actual question, I think I would have to say that they are the exception rather than the rule."

He paused for a moment, a slight frown creeping up onto his face. He'd told this to Cassandra before, but of the three branches of magic, dark magic was the one with the least amount of literature. As such, the only relevant information he had at hand was derived from his own brief experiences.

He couldn't say for certain what caused Dumah and his ilk to transform as they had--and he couldn't say for certain whether it was the inevitable end for every practitioner. Constance at least seemed to betray that expectation, but then again, Constance seemed to betray a lot of expectations.

"Now, I could be wrong... but by my estimation, their state is self-inflicted as a means of ritualistic submission to some sort of 'truth', as they called it. I would therefore limit it to a symptom of the specific branch of magic we practice, rather than the art as a whole."

He paused again, more so to allow Naiman to absorb everything he'd been saying. For someone as disconnected as her, he wasn't sure she was even grasping onto what he was saying--but he wouldn't mind further clarifying himself if he had to.

"Magic is a general term, and there are many different concentrations within it. This one just happens to be the most unsavory, as you can obviously tell," he said, a hint of irony seeping into his voice.

He shrugged his shoulders, and sighed, preempting what he assumed her next question might be about. "What sort of truth?" "Is it worth it?" "Why would they want something like that?" He had a few guesses, but discussing the nature of Belial was likely straying far too off course for their initial sitting.

"Unfortunately, it's hard for me to answer what exactly this truth entails. What I can say, however, is that Dumah did speak with a clairvoyance that I find hard to deny. Feel free to draw your own conclusions. It's ultimately not something you're going to need to concern yourself about, I would imagine."

 

 

As Alain went on, it became very obvious to Naimanzuunnadintsetseg that she was now in very much over her head with this whole business. Learning that magic was tied neither to the moon, nor presumably the seasons, or any other obvious outward sign of nature was rather a shock. But hearing that simply dispatching the average practitioner was not only safe, but perhaps the most effective way of dealing with them was reassuring.

Then came the Malaphar disclaimer. The more she heard of him, the less she liked this business as a whole, but it was entirely unavoidable. He'd already come to her lands, made himself her problem. Not going to him, and returning the favor was not an option. His threat wouldn't be solved by just, leaving the man alone and hoping he'd leave when he was good and done. Nodding at the exhortation for caution, Naimanzuunnadintsetseg squeezed her hands into fists as they lay upon her thighs.

A pause in the diplomat's answers turned her attention away from those bleak considerations, wondering if that was all he had for her, but no sooner than the slightly questioning look came to her face did he begin again. He must just have been looking for the right words, the proper way to phrase things for one of such utter ignorance. That he was indulging her this far was certainly a reason to be grateful. She'd not exactly treated him with the warmest of hospitalities thus far, after all. The plainswoman would have to think of a way to repay the favor, sometime.

When she heard that not everyone was bound to end up like the skeletal elders, Naimanzuunnadintsetseg let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. It would make it easier to palate getting along with, beginning to accept, users of magicks knowing they were not necessarily willingly embarking upon such a fate. When he began to speak of branches of magic, and divisions within, it surprised her at first, but after stepping back and giving it some thought, it wasn't that farfetched.

"Different concentrations within magic as a whole... you mean like, the healing arts, the harming arts, and... I suppose those that would not necessarily fall into either? Manipulating the weather and calling forth a storm would have the potential both for weal and for woe, for example?" Those seemed like the obvious distinctions to draw, but part of her wasn't sure she'd gotten everything quite right. Briefly, she contemplated waiting for feedback from Alain before continuing, but curiosity got the better of her.

"No, it's surely not so simple. But regardless of which grouping they are in, which one you are in... to knowingly choose such a fate? Just what would drive a man to do that?" It was somewhat of a rhetorical question, because indeed, as Lord Duhamel had aptly pointed out, there was the matter of their farseeing--the vision they had shown the princess--and surely many other things they had not felt need to demonstrate. "Power, I guess, the same as what drives the rest of us. 'Truth' is but a different angle for reaching that, I suppose."

It was a bit of a chilling thought to consider that perhaps they looked upon those who fought and warred in much the same way as she regarded them? 'Who would subject themselves to a fate at the end of a blade, the tip of an arrow? Better to waste away with my books.' It was hard to fathom... but not impossible. There was quite the complicated expression on her face as she considered these matters.

 

 

"I can see you're looking a fair bit more troubled now than when we first started speaking," Alain mused, raising a single eyebrow. It was quite apparent that Naiman was giving some serious consideration to all that he'd told her. He knew it would likely take some time, but he hoped that she would come away from their discourse with some newfound insight.

He stood up from his chair, and began to gather his belongings--those that he'd brought with him, and those that he'd just recently become acquainted with. Tomes, tools, manuscripts, and all.

"Admittedly, I'm a little curious as to what sort of power a woman like you is after. But honestly I'm feeling something of a headache coming on, so I think I'm going to go lie down somewhere. In the interest of fairness, perhaps we can continue another time? I've revealed quite a lot, and you very little," he said, a small teasing smile creeping up onto his lips.  

 

 

Maybe it was because of his bloodletting, but Alain was  pleading a little indisposed, and wished to retire. Naimanzuunnadintsetseg was not opposed, the man had already given her more than enough to think on.

"I don't doubt we'll each find ourselves looking forward to more such chats, as the days go by," she nodded in agreement. "Far be it from me to keep you from much needed rest, but before you go I'm not quite sure I agree with your comment on what is fair? While, true, perhaps I haven't gone out of my way to open up, but I haven't exactly been evasive about matters either. If you don't think I've revealed enough, it's on you to take initiative to correct that. Like the princess has."

The plainswoman was too busy focusing on trying to keep her own lips from slipping into a customary frown to have noticed the smile that had crept across the diplomat's. For better or for worse.

Edited October 3, 2018 by Balcerzak

[Shin]

Spectral Directions

Spooks rose from the ground beneath Alain, phasing through her master to the centre of the group. "mASTER... dO yOU rEALLY wANT mE tO hELP? i'M sO hAPPY i cOULD dIE." Spooks wailed, taking joy in Alain's need for her services. The ghost twirled around in her search at the crossroads, pausing briefly as she reached a conclusion. "tHE dEAD mAN? iT hAS bEEN a fEW dAYS... bUT hE wAS hERE... hE wENT tHIS wAY..."

Swirling around and chilling the air, Spooks moved towards the sign. The ghost slowly floated towards the path ahead leading towards the Medeina clan, coming to a standstill "hE wENT tHIS wAY... hIS sMELL is aLONG tHIS pATH."

"If we are to choose the path as recommended, it may allow us to intervene and stop Sir Dun before he can recruit another tribe. Stopping him and recruiting the Medeina will halt their recruitment process and grant us an ally." Sebastian recommended, taking the centre stage away from the ghost for the moment. "However, if the Iitschi can be converted... it may allow a greater fighting force to join us, but they may be more unruly. That is if they haven't been tempted by Malaphar already."

Graham wasn't entirely sure which was the best direction, Sebastian made it sound like there were merits to all of them. His eyes darted between the sign and the roads ahead quickly. However, it was Uuliinyagaantsetseg who stepped forward to offer her judgement. "The Iitschi fight well, but they have little honour. They will cling to what they see as the strongest option. Their chiefs are chosen by might, not by ability to lead..." she warned. furrowing her brow. "If they can be convinced that our cause is the greatest, they will be valuable allies, but untrustworthy ones."

PARTY DECIDE, YOU'LL SKIP ONCE A CHOICE IS MADE

[Nanami Touko]

In Cass' mind, she'd already made the decision. Whether the stronger and more violent of the tribes or not, if Emmet was headed that way, he had to be stopped. If they made for the Asarai for allies, it could cost them the time it would take him to gain Malaphar further followers. They couldn't have that, he was already parading about the country and had rallied enough towards his cause, through power and fear, or whatever magical promises he could bestow.

"Thoughts then, everyone?" Cass turned to the group, arms folded. To alienate them further would do her no good, after the outburst at the fort. "I've of a mind to chase after Emmet, and I'm sure most of you understand why. That his trail leads us to another potential ally is icing on my cake, but I'd still prefer to hear what people have to say. There's always the chance that Emmet is much faster than we are, and we run into another fight... That's weighed in equal chance of us managing to catch him before he can poison the minds of another group. Of course, I'm of the mind that, if we head anywhere else, we're definitely going to lose him, even if we manage to gain a group to come with us... And if we're to believe Uuliin, which, we've no reason to write her off, then our choices realistically remain: the Asarai, or the Medeina. For now, at least." That the other clans would recognize Naiman was more boon than bane in the princess' mind. If they could showcase her strength, or drill it into them, her returning once again could bring them in line. Beaten twice by the same person would damage the pride of any warrior.

Naiman's suggestion of having Astaroth send his lackeys off to check on his clan was certainly appealing. In fact... "Why don't you do that, Astaroth? You've got trustworthy men who could accomplish the task for you," hopefully, "and it would make sure you weren't left out of any dealings at the head of things, here. What say you? I understand your wish to meet your clan, but..." Hopefully he could see reason, this wasn't just about Cassandra's own wishes, anymore. Emmet had to be stopped.

Edited October 3, 2018 by SnakeMomMelissa

[Moblin Major General]

Astaroth looked at Barry and Paul, to the North, and then back to Barry and Paul. "I think it best if you returned, my friends. If Asarai is to turn Medeina against Malaphar, it will need as much might as it can muster. Tell the men to prepare for war, and tell the women and children to abandon the fort at the first sign of trouble. We can replace our fort, we can't replace them. Once the men are ready, tell them to lay on the border of Medeina and wait for my signal. Engel be with you both. " Astaroth turned to the Princess. "We don't have much time. We need to get moving toward Medeina if Emmet is on his way there. Come, we must fly to prevent another tragedy. " He turned his horse toward Medeina, ready to ride for it on Cassandra 's order.

[Vestige]

"Point noted, but thank you," Alain said, at once impressed by Spooks' tracking prowess, and unnerved by her excessive enthusiasm. For a creature manifest of darkness, she and her ilk were surprisingly quick to fall into admiration. He had to wonder if it came from a place of genuine belief, or if it was a symptom of something else. Though, real or not, it was at least better than the alternative. 

"If Astaroth has no qualms, then I have little else to say." He shrugged. "For all intents and purposes, we can consider Emmet to be one of Malaphar's generals. Putting a stop to him will give us some much needed validation in the eyes of the other tribes. Plus, this is our best chance of catching him. And knowing him, he'll likely clue us in on some valuable information one way or the other."

"I see no reason to further delay."

[Shin]

No Slacking

Barry and Paul faced their chief, both looking remarkably more serious than usual. "We understand, chief. We might be the smartest people you got, but we're glad that you trust us." Paul replied, giving Astaroth a salute. "We'll let everybody know about the good Princess Cassandra. She ain't so bad, and we'd all rather have her deciding how things go rather than some evil wizard."

Barry nodded in agreement, eager to show that he shared his brother's sentiment. "We'll get make sure everybody's ready, even people who aren't ready. That's how ready we'll be." Barry rambled, only stopped by a sharp knock on the head by his brother.

"We look forward to seeing our clan become part of a united Magonsaete, chief. We promise we'll make you proud." Paul concluded, ushering his brother along. "Come on, numpty. Home isn't going to walk its way to us so we need to get going."

The pair ambled off into the distance, waving back at the group merrily. Mr Bones crossed his arms, watching as they departed.

"tHEY aRE a gOOD pAIR oF mEATBAGS. i wOULD cRY tEARS oF jOY iF i cOULD aCTUALLY cRY." he remarked, clumsly putting a finger to his eye socket." i'LL lAUGH iNSTEAD. oNE dAY tHEY wILL mAKE gOOD mINIONS fOR mASTER."

Barry and Paul leave the party!
 

-

28th May - Eastern Magonsaete

Having parted with Barry and Paul, Cass' group had travelled forth towards the Medeina camp. The plains remained flat and relatively peaceful, they were by no means the only group travelling but the others were content with simply passing by them. The day and night passed with little trouble, if anything it had been quicker to set up camp without Barry and Paul. Under the guidance of Spooks and the natives, they drew deeper into Medeina territory, the atmosphere growing more tense as Emmet's stench became more apparent. Trees had started to litter the horizon, growing more frequent and thicker into a reasonably sparse forest. The path was becoming less defined, the ill-defined dirt trail harder to distinguish from the soil around it. A trail of smoke was rising into the sky in the distance, potentially signifying the presence of a camp.

Spooks paused, rotating slowly back towards her master. "mASTER... i hAVE a bAD fEELING. tHE sMELL iS sO sTRONG... bUT wE'RE nOT aLONE." she wailed, her speech interrupted by a bolt of lightning striking her. The ghost wailed, screeching as she was reduced to a pile of ash by the attack. 

Arrows peppered the ground around the group from above. The rustling of leaves and cracking of branches giving away the presence of several foes. Figures revealed themselves from up upon the trees and among the overgrowth, an assorted collection of bandits in tribal wear. One let out a wolf-like howl, the others joining in unison shortly after.

"You're in Medeina territory, traveller." an older man cackled. "We don't take kindly to people prancin' around in their fancy clothes and draggin' around monsters. The last fella who tried that had a real hard time, do yerselves a favour an' turn the other way before we start feelin' less generous. I've been itchin' for another fight."

Sebastian glanced other to Cass, giving her a nod. Diplomacy would be something that she would require in the future, having other people speak on her behalf would reflect poorly.

"mY cLOTHES aREN'T tHAT fANCY... bUT i aPPRECIATE tHE cOMPLIMENT." Mr Bones boasted, putting his hands on his hips. "mASTER dID a gOOD jOB sUMMONING tHEM fROM tHE dEPTHS oF hELL."

Edited October 6, 2018 by Shin

[Nanami Touko]

"Wonderful! I'm glad we can all agree on something. Really." It was nice to see people listening to her, at least this time. It made the most sense with the information they had. Cass held back a sigh of relief... And I still need to speak with Naiman, but... I'll give her some time. She's still healing those wounds, I don't want to bombard her. Well, I want to, but I won't.

---

"I hope you can summon another one." It was unfortunate that their guide to Emmet had been so unceremoniously struck down by magic, but they were here, at least. Or almost here, if they were being told to turn back by these people, this was likely the edge of Medeina's lands. "Time to try and not get us all killed..." The nod from Sebastian was an unfortunate bit of extra weight, but if she was going to lead this group, she needed to lead it well. Taking but a moment to gather her thoughts, Cass tried to sell their situation as best as she could.

"Honorable Medeina! I travel with the Chieftains of the Asarai and the Ulagan, and we aren't here to fight with you. We're looking to talk, and looking for a man... One who is running about Magonsaete spreading lies about a man named Malaphar." Hopefully that was enough of an interest pull as to not get shot. Cass didn't quite fancy pulling arrows out of herself. "If you would allow us to speak with your chieftain, I think it would benefit us both. We did not come here with the intent to spill blood." To further her point, Cass took out her sword, bending down to place it on the ground in front of her. A hopeful gesture, that she wanted to get through to them. Time to see if they care.

[Moblin Major General]

"I do not wish to make a bad situation sound worse, Cassandra, but I think he in fact is their leader." Astaroth rode out beside her. " Your name is Lobos, is it not? I am Astaroth, son of Abeloth, and chief of the Asarai. I will give this stern warning only this once: forcing a fight will only destroy your clan, as it has destroyed many others. Your father was no fool, the other tribes knew it. But what about you? Will you sacrifice your people for a chance at glory? Or can we clear our heads and explain what exactly each of us knows? " Astaroth had both hands on the reigns of his horse, clearly within sight of the man. He made clear his desire not to fight, leaving the decision to fight firmly on the man. 

[Nanami Touko]

Destroy his clan? What-- no, shut up! Shut up, what are you saying!? Cass stepped in front of Astaroth, looking back at him to shoot him a glance that could only say, 'stop talking'. "I apologize for my comrade's words! He knows not of what he speaks, we have no intentions to fight with your clan, and if you are unwilling to discuss further goals, I would only ask for information, and we will be on our way."

[Vestige]

Alain didn't have much of a response to Cassandra. He simply grit his teeth and turned his attention towards the tribal men who had so graciously made their presence known. Honestly, it was a little amusing how similar he found them to the Codgerites and Horsemen he knew. The same kind of burlesque appearance, the inane hollering--they matched point for point except one group was a bunch of drunkards and the other was the real deal. 

Upon Sebastian's quiet request, he allowed Cassandra the opportunity to speak. But with the way that things were progressing, he couldn't afford to humor the steward much longer. 

Sorry Sebastian, but your Princess is making us look pathetic.

Perhaps she was choosing to emulate him in some regard. His words of peace had certainly left their mark on Hera, but unfortunately, Lobos and his crew did not possess the same softness that she did. Appealing to peace was pointless when Lobos made it very clear what they were after. Turning back with their tails between their legs afforded them nothing, and just made them look weak. Astaroth was closer to the right line of thinking, but so much farther at the same time. His lack of tact was evident. Alain may have even afforded himself a bit of a laugh if they weren't in such a precarious situation all of a sudden. 

"Chief Lobos, is it? I think you can tell we're a bit confused on which direction we'd like to steer this conversation. We're a motley crew, and we don't always see eye to eye on things. But between the two of us, I find talk to be a boring pastime taken up only by fools in fancy clothes who know not the warrior's way. I'm sure you would agree that words can get tiresome when steel does the job just as well." 

It was perhaps a long shot, but from Alain's perspective, Lobos wasn't going to just give them some information and call it a day. And Emmet was dangerously close. If they turned back now, there was a chance he would catch wind of their arrival and make a timely departure. Lobos had made it clear what he wanted, all he had to do was to appeal to that and hopefully come to some mutual agreement.

"If you can suffer our presence for a night or two, perhaps we can offer some entertainment for you and your men. A grand duel of sorts. The best of ours against the best of yours? If we can manage to impress, then perhaps afterwards you can afford us some talking whilst we all clean our wounds. If we're not so impressive, then at least you and your men managed to have some fun. What say you, Chief Lobos? You have the numbers to kill us here and now, but perhaps your men and women would appreciate a bit of entertainment?" 

Edited October 7, 2018 by Vestige

[Ether]

Was this man truly the chief? He didn't appear to carry himself much like Sylvia would have expected one to, but she could have certainly been wrong in that regard. What was more clear than his status was that there was no unity in what they were asking of this encounter, Cassandra suing for peace whilst Astaroth clamoured for war, with Alain being as two-faced as ever, placing himself somewhere in the middle. How bothersome.

"Cass, Oi'd say that tryina' get outta this peacefully... were it ever actually an option, ain't one ana'more. They seem a warmongerin' lot based on what e' be sayin' and a coupla' our own more blood-thirstin' elements seem t'be stirrin' that cauldron mighty quick."

[Shin]

Little Wolf

The Medeina all howled with laughter, something about the situation had amused them greatly. The group continued to laugh for a good few seconds, somewhat blunting the sense of impending attack that they were carrying but moments before. The older man in the centre of the group stepped forward, his heavily scarred face and shaggy beard visible among the foliage.

"Yer seem pretty motley to me. Never would have seen an Ulagan with friends unless they were desperate. Awfully kind of you usin' all your fancy words and nicities." he replied, grinning smugly as he rest his axe on his shoulder. "One problem with all of yer talk. Only the lass got an eye for authority, I ain't Chief Lobos. Something tells me you all ain't singing the same song. Why should I trust one of yer when another could just stab me in the back? Part of me wants to just kill you right now and save us all the trouble."

Mr Bones strutted forwards, puffing out his chest as he stood off against the tribesman. "yOU cAN'T kILL uS aLL aNYWAY bECAUSE i'M aLREADY dEAD. yOU cAN tRY iF yOU lIKE." he boasted, having clearly missed the entire point. "mASTER hAS dIED pLENTY tOO. iT's lIKE tAKING a nAP fOR hIM." 

Whilst unhelpful, Mr Bones had at least paused the hostilities for the moment, leaving the Medeina confused by the sentient skeleton. One of the tribesmen stepped forwards out of the overgrowth with a hand raised. The Medeina went silent, making space for him to pass. He was a young man, probably not much older than Cass herself. His dark brown hair was long and wild, resting on his shoulders and he stepped forwards. His leather garb had a symbol stained on its front, one the natives could recognise as the Medeina's mark. He walked up to Cass, stopping and looking directly at her. His eyes were sharp, the young man focused on her intently.

"Speak, outsider. I shall give you one chance to resolve this with your tongue before we resolve it with our fangs." he demanded, his tone barely more civilised than his allies. "I am Ulfure, son of Lobos. You don't seem like the ordinary travellers. Speak your words carefully or choose your attack wisely, you are not in a position to make errors."

[Nanami Touko]

The laughter and what followed was rather clear to her... They would never be taken seriously if they couldn't agree on why they had come here. But what would make for the best case? Could they spin their reasoning some way, to get proper audience? Was there a way around a fight? Just... As the new face approached, Cass stood herself up straight. She was feeling a bit ridiculous, having to cover for Astaroth, and having had Alain cover for her in turn. But this was their last chance, or arrows were going to fly... Hera knew of Malaphar. Would it be wrong to assume these people foolish, that they wouldn't understand the situation Magonsaete faced? No. They're not idiots. They have a different way of living, but they aren't stupid.

"We're chasing after a man named Emmet. He works for a mage named Malaphar. If the name isn't familiar, I can explain why that's a problem... But it's tearing through all of Magonsaete, right now. He's the reason the south has started to band together, and it will reach everywhere else if he isn't stopped. I don't know why he's doing this, but that's what this Emmet is for... We find him, we make him tell us whatever he knows, and we stop whatever ill is about to rain down on your country." The rest, about bringing the tribes together under Naiman... That could wait, for the moment. They were here for Emmet, and for help, if possible.

"That is why we are here, Ulfure. My name is Cassandra, daughter of King Oswald of Wyke. And if we can avoid pointing swords at each other... We could use your help."

[Shin]

Open Eyes

Ulfure's expression didn't change, his eyes watching Cass carefully as she made her case. The rest of his group remained silent, albeit eager to start a fight. "So you speak of a wizard gathering the south? Uniting it into a powerful force that no other on the continent dare face? If I were a practical man, that would seem like a very tempting prospect. Magonsaete is not a kind place to live, several tribes have recently fallen. Uniting for a sense of stability would make more sense than trying to oppose this Malaphar." Ulfure replied, his men slowly readying their weapons once more. He approached Cass even closer, his face literally inches away from her own. "Tell me, daughter of Oswald, what would you offer to the Medeina that Emmet and Malaphar could not?"

The older tribesman looked expectantly at Ulfure, waiting for permission to strike again. Ulfure stepped back from Cass, gesturing for his men to lower their weapons.

"You have intrigued me. Nobody would be so foolish to set foot in hostile territory without a good reason." he replied, scanning Cass' group one by one. "Tell me more about yourselves. Such a varied group must have a shared cause."

Edited October 8, 2018 by Shin