"Well, dwarf," Dusk said simply, crossing his arms and standing straight. "You have to tell me what you want before I can help you find it. I am no psychic."

Fools, Willow thought bitterly of her team. She was not wont to be so critical of others, but when making this first impression she had not expected such . . . , brazen thoughtlessness. The girl lieutenant wanted to go with Yin, if only to avoid being left alone before these two others, but she held her position, unwilling to draw attention to herself and unable to relax.

Seconds passed uncomfortably, the conversation between the dwarf and this 'Dusk' fellow drew her ears. Willow silently begged that some one would break the disturbing quite, until further crashes brought report of her team. She bowed her head, staring at the floor. Her hair covered her face, but still she felt the world surely knew of the redness that heated her face.

Then, at once, her embarrassment was thrown aside. The sounds of approaching Mitsuru and Akihiko drew the attention of those otherwise focused on the discordance that accompanied the melody of silence. They entered the room with the confidence and indifference of folk accustomed to this sort of occaision. Why can't I ever be that calm?
"I am Mitsuru Kirijo, and this is Akihiko Senada. As you likely guessed, we are here to aid in this quest." Mitsuru says formally.

"Hey." Akihiko says casually in greeting.

"My actual purpose here will be partly to oversee this operation." Mitsuru continues, "Not as a commander of course, however, I will suggest you heed my advice; I am skilled at providing tactical information, and is thus why I was commissioned by the Council."

"If you're wondering why I'm here, I'm here because it seems like good training." Akihiko says, shrugging.

Mitsuru rolls her eyes, "As I have told you before Akihiko, this isn't a game."

"Yeah, I know." Akihiko replies, "You don't need to remind me."
Training? Willow thought, either he is very good, or very foolish- maybe both. Mitsuru, on the otherhand, could be a good person to have on this venture - if only we could proceed soon!
Then, more events! A sudden crash dispelled the ineptitude of the Aqinarran guard from the minds of those there. A dark robed figure strode through the door quickly, hand gripping the neck of their scythe. The rapidity of this entrance cast away Willow's shyness for a moment, as she summed up the visitor. Their hand was on their weapon's neck, while not immediately threatening, could be a shift in grip away from wielding the weapon properly. They approached quickly, but not at a pace which Willow would consider appropriate for an ambush. In short, it was not her belief that this person had come to attack.

The tall girl let down her defenses slightly, and with them left most of her apprehension about her position. Whether as a result of the slight spike in adrenaline her body received, or of the fact that the gathered group had reached a size where she would feel less on the spot, she almost began to relax.

Dusk still had no answer from the dwarf, who despite his earlier forwardness seemed to have trouble comprehending exactly what it was Dusk wanted.

Or perhaps it is simply that he does not know what he wants, thought the elf. His right arm unfolded from the left and reached up to Dusk's face, rubbing his mouth and chin. His eyes did not remain only for the dwarf and darted between the other members of this so-called expedition. Some of the others had already moved into the armory to pick up some additional gear as would be provided by the coucil. Dusk knew he carried only plain arrows for his shortbow and would just as well carry magically or mechanically enhanced versions.

((After finding out what Hammer's character wants/needs))

A crash resounded out the open doors to the armoury. Dusk could hear the humans inside, talking and arguing amongst each other. He paid them little attention. He had been around the short-lived races for over a century and knew how they dealt with each other.

Dusk moved into the armoury, coldly avoiding the humans as they picked up suits of armour and weapons that had fallen with the racks. Silently going about the tasks before him, Dusk began to pull out the twenty or so plain arrows from his quiver, picking up some magically imbued ones to replace them.

In addition, he sought after several imbued daggers to replace the plain ones he carried. Thankful for the labels attached to each one, Dusk removed the four daggers he had sheated and wrapped in his extradimensional bag and placed them down on the table beside several other plain daggers. The two tempered, but still plain, knives he wore on his person he kept.

The others he replaced in two parts. Two were simply strengthed with magic. The other two were based with magical strength but also had an additional enchantment laid over them. With the correct phrase, one would heat as if lain on coals while the other would chill as if left under ice for an entire winter.

Removing one of the plain knives from its place on his belt at his right hip, Dusk replaced it with one of the magically strengthed daggers. The icy dagger he stored in his right boot while the fiery one found a home across his chest and along his ribs. The plain dagger and the other magically strengthed one were rewrapped and placed as reserves back into his bag.

After gathering these few upgrades to his own equipment, Dusk continued on, helping Manalgna gather the things he needed without complaint. Once those things were in the dwarf's hands, Dusk left the armoury as silently as he had entered it.

((After getting a pearl, from wherever just to speed this up, with the 95 gold from Hammer and the 5 Dusk has))

"Tersoal," said Dusk as he left the dwarf and the armoury, approaching the aging mortal. "You mentioned you are... adept in the arcane. I found this blade, but I would like to know its attributes before I resort to using it in battle."

In one hand sits the rusty sheath of the sword found in the decrepit lockbox. The sword still rests there.

"I believe you would require this pearl as well to cast such a spell. There may be more, but this is all I recall," added Dusk. He removed a medium sized pearl purchased with the gold given to him by the dwarf and what little he had left on his person.

((Changes to inventory:

- Dagger (4)
+ Dagger [+2] (2)
+ Dagger [+1 Fiery] (1)
+ Dagger [+1 Icy] (1)
+ 95 Gold
- 100 Gold
+/- 1 Medium Pearl
- Arrow (20)
+ Arrow [+1 Fire] (6)
+ Arrow [+1 Ice] (6)
+ Arrow [+1 Sacred] (6)
+ Arrow [+1 Acid] (6)
+ Arrow [+2] (6)

))

Dusk opened up his backpack and loosened the neck of the bag within. Despite being able to fit within the knapsack, the bag weighed a static 12 pounds and could carry much more than that. After a little search, Dusk reached in to find the old sheath of the shortsword they had found before the Twilight event.

"This blade contains an enchantment, that which I do not know the source of, only that it exists," Dusk said, drawing the blade smoothly despite the decrepit condition of the hilt and sheath. "While I wish its properties appraised before we travel and I might have need of it, I do not currently have the gold to purchase a pearl of sufficient value nor to pay a mage for such services."

His hooded eyes turned towards the others and the door behind which the council members had disappeared.

"Unless the council has the resources to provide such items or services, I will aid you, dwarf, in finding what you need in return for funds or such a pearl," said Dusk to Hammer. He bowed slightly, though still did not take the dwarf's extended arm.
"Other than a sturdy Flaming Scimitar to replace the one that was destroyed in a previous adventure ... I need your help in selecting appropriate Magical Items that may come in handy against the Arcane Forces that are disrupting this universe!"

"It matters not if you grip my hand in friendship! Taking My Gold is action enough among new-found friends!"

Manalagna Hammer offers the Gold to his new friend and proceeds to locate any Magic Items his remaining Gold can afford to procure!

A flaming scimitar and whatever else may be needed by the dwarf, thought Dusk. I thought he said he was a druid...
Dusk walked back into the armoury without a word, beginning his search at the end of the room that held bows, crossbows and other sorts of weapons to be used at range. But his choice for the dwarf, who seemed to know less about combat than Dusk did about the bottom of the sea, was simpler.

On the wall hung several slings. He picked one off the wall and a pouch containing two dozen imbued bullets, jet black stones that were small but heavier than steel.

Next, the elf walked around two tables to pick a well-crafted scimitar off the wall. The label beneath it mentioned the elvish word for fire. Holding it in his hand, Dusk muttered the word almost clumsily, as though his tongue was unused to the lyrical infelctions of his native language. Still, the magic could find his meaning and a bright orange flame began to sheath the blade before Dusk said the command again, extinguishing the flames. On his way out, Dusk grabbed a wooden quarterstaff that would have been a head too short for him, but would fit nicely for the dwarf.

"Here," he said to Manalagna. "Druids of my previous association had a certain... distaste for bladed weapons. I did manage to find a scimitar with a similar enchantment. The command to activate the magic is Nar. The others need no activation."

Dusk gave a slight bow towards the dwarf before leaving him to familiarize himself with the equipment and its storage. He had had to work around the four humans that had arrived from Aqinarr but between their commotion and the distraction of his own task, he had missed hearing the entry of two more humans.

Now, however, he found himself facing the pair without total knowledge of their intentions. Silence reigned for a moment and Dusk cursed himself for not paying attention. The illusion safety was just that, an illusion, and it could be shattered at any moment.

His eyes studied the pair and tried to remember what they called themselves as the gates once again opened and closed, breaking the silence. A dark-clothed humanoid form entered the hall wielding a scythe that Dusk noted well. The farming implements often made the most dangerous of weapons.

A dark hood topped an even darker cloak and, like his own, obscured the face of the individual. Dusk physically relaxed, like a cat once startled calmly recognizes the smell of its owner.

"It seems our guide is ready to meet us," he said.

((Picked up a +1 Flaming Scimitar, +2 Quarterstaff, +2 Sling and 20 +2 bullets for Hammer))

As Armand and Deunan observed the other’s that entered the meeting room, strangers from all different walks of life appeared making introductions. Armand and Deunan in kind replied, introducing themselves, before a crash in the armoury diverted their attention long enough for another pair of individuals to make an entrance.

"Is this it?" A slightly gruff voice is heard.

"You've forgotten already, Akihiko?" Snaps the voice of an influential-sounding woman.

"Sheesh, you're not in a good mood today, Mitsuru." The first voice responds.

Quickly reaching the others already there, and standing in approximately the same spot as the centre two members of the Council were, the woman, evidently named Mitsuru, immediately introduces the two of them. She has long, dark red hair which falls over one eye, leaving the other, her left, in view. She is dressed almost as though she is at the same level of influence as the Council, with well fashioned yet functional and practical clothing and at her side is an elegant rapier. Beside her stands a man who is dressed casually, compared to Mitsuru; he wears a simple garment of one who is used to travel, and carries his jacket held over his shoulder by his right hand. He has short, grey hair and what seems to be a bandage above his right eye. In his left hand he carried a pair of spiked gauntlets, and is apparently a close-combat person.

"I am Mitsuru Kirijo, and this is Akihiko Senada. As you likely guessed, we are here to aid in this quest." Mitsuru says formally.

"Hey." Akihiko says casually in greeting.

"My actual purpose here will be partly to oversee this operation." Mitsuru continues, "Not as a commander of course, however, I will suggest you heed my advice; I am skilled at providing tactical information, and is thus why I was commissioned by the Council."

“Hail and well met you two” Armand replied, giving his name and that of his female companion in response. “It will be good to have one who can view any terrain as a potential battlefield, and assign the pieces of the chessboard to their most effective positions.”

Deunan had made off gfor the armoury, returning only after stocking up on enchanted ammunition, and sporting a better suit of full plate and longsword than her own.

There is a loud clang as the front gate opens briefly, and turning, everyone sees a person dressed in black, with a black hood obscuring their face, step into the hall. In their right hand is held a beautiful yet apparently dangerous scythe which seems to have a dull blue sheen to its metallic appearance. They step carefully, yet the noise of their footsteps radiates coldly in the hall. They are unhesitant as they approach the group, each step taken with care, yet each step deliberate.


Armand’s own completely sheltered visage, hidden by a quarter inch of solid iron that masked his face from view turned to face the newcomer, his innate ability to detect menacing aura’s failing to alert to the likewise somber dressed figure, female he guessed by the form of her walk, and the subtle swaying of hips with each deliberate step. “The fate of the world draws all kinds it would seem” Armand said, his eyes a golden glow behind the darkened steel of his mask observing the stranger’s Scythe with a keen interest, detecting it for any magical properties. (detect magic on the new woman) “Hail… and welcome to the ranks of those destined to change the future.”

"I am not a guide." The dark clothed woman responds coldly, her barren tone sending a chill through the air as she sets her hood back. "My name is Xira."
"Setting the interruption aside," Mitsuru continues, "The enemies we will be facing are being called Linsemptus by the Scout, so that is the term I will use to refer to them by. I think that is all for now; we will simply wait a little longer for the Scout..."

A brief moment later, with the exchange of a pearl and a drink, Tersoal deduces the hidden quality of the old sword. Holding the blade before him, he reveals what he knows.

"Once each day, this sword can be used for a strong offencive strike. First, one uses the tip of the blade and draws a circle around themself or, in our case, around the party. Then, the wielder stabs the centre of the circle they just made and call the activation phrase. Outside of that circle will be a release of energy that reaches outward 15ft. What type of energy is decided by the phrase. Also, if the situation is dire, the phrase can be spoken and the sword plunged into the ground without drawing a protective circle, but there will be no protection from the blast. The energy needed to do this will make the sword innate for the rest of the day."

Words:
Random - Wave of Drop
Fire - Vulcan
Earth (equal parts bludgeoning/piercing/slashing) - Yarthkins
Electricity - Lanceor
Acid - Wryneck
Cold - Merrows
Sonic - Krake

((It takes one move action to draw the circle around oneself, more than that will require more movement; activation is a standard action))

However, no later than the weapon's ability is revealed, there is a magnified sound akin to that of glass shattering. Vision is distorted, with cracks seemingly through thin air visible to all, unmoving and relentless. Tersoal recoils from the crack in front of him, but trips and falls through one behind him, the sword flying through the air and disappearing through yet another. Yet, just as suddenly as it happened, it is gone, and everything returns to normal... with the exception of the now missing sword and Tersoal.

"Well, that certainly was interesting." Akihiko says coolly, despite his body being tensed and ready for combat, with his hands balled into fists and held professionally in front of him.

A voice, sounding almost like that of a young woman or older girl, is heard: "The deterioration seems to be much more erratic than I would have hoped."

The voice does not seem to come from any direction, except perhaps up, and looking up, nothing can be seen.

"The Scout has called these creatures Linsemptus..." said the human who called herself Mitsuru. Dusk's mind raced, trying to match the name or title to anything he might have run across. It was a strange name, inspiring both an awkward familiarity and chaotic strangeness at the same time.

Tersoal took the pearl and crushed it into dust in a small cup of wine. He stirred the mixture and added a few other strange items to the brew, which he promptly swallowed. Dusk took no notice of the fact that the mixture had to have a brutal taste. Any mage of experience should have a certain... resistance built up by now.

Tersoal began to work with the invisible forces of magic in order to decipher the enchantments that had been worked into the blade, either in the forging or afterwards, and explain them to the others.

His explanation was fairly brief and to the point and Tersoal finished by listing off the varying command words that would change the type of energy given off in the magical discharge. Dusk nodded as the mage finished, committing the commands and function to memory.

Suddenly, a tense, static sound, almost as if there were windows perpetually shattering nearby, split the air. Strange, chaotic cracks appeared in the room with splayed distorted images of other locations.

Dusk's hands went to the hilts of his swords and his perception changed as adrenaline pumped into his veins. A fuzzy feeling of alertness made the experience feel surreal for him as the pair of swords he always wore appeared in his hands. The whole ordeal took less than two ticks of a water clock but to Dusk it seemed to take nearly 15.

"Well, that certainly was interesting," said the man called Akihiko. His voice was calm, almost light, but his body told a different story. One glance and Dusk could see him as ready for combat as any of them, perhaps more so.

He is a good fighter, flashed across the elf's mind which promptly tucked that bit of information deep into his memory.

The cracks in the world disappeared as suddenly as they had come, leaving no trace of the mage nor the sword. Dusk slowly sheathed his weapons as he relaxed, his fight-flight responses slowly.

"The deterioration seems to be much more erratic than I would have hoped."

The voice was one Dusk had heard before. Some of the others tensed and the elf stifled a small laugh.

"Our guide," Dusk said plainly, pointing upwards at nothing in particular. "Will you not show yourself to us, Scout? I am sure we have nothing to fear from you, but still, my mind would be put at ease to know you are at least part of our world."

((Finally had some time. Yuck))

The rift that swallowed the scarred man known as Tersoal whole closed and vanished as though it had never been. Willow's right hand blade was halfway bared when she realized that there was nothing she could do. The hairs on the back of her neck stood on end and her muscles were drawn tense.

Moments before she had been privately stealing glimpses at the one who named herself Xira, one of the later commers. Mitsuru had been breifing them on their mission, which Willow absorbed with her mind whilst her other senses worked on other information. The brief ended and the wait begun for the scout who would lead them up Mount Venerro. Willow chose for herself a place along the wall where she could lean against it. She had been interested by and watched from afar the arcane rituals Tersoal had been going through in the moments before his departure.

She noticed that the man that Tersoal had been talking to had both his weapons in his hands, having quickly drawn them at the disruption too. Willow looked to him, "What happened? What was he trying to do?" She suspected that it might have been magic that caused the rupture, though of course she was biased against the arcane arts by nature.

She slipped her sword back into its sheath and strode over to the space that had once been occupied by the mage, though pointedly not drawing to close to the actual area.
A voice, sounding almost like that of a young woman or older girl, is heard: "The deterioration seems to be much more erratic than I would have hoped."
Willow looked around to the entrances, expecting the disembodied voice to reveal itself from on of those ports. In truth, knowing exactly which entrance it might have originated from was impossible. Perhaps the speaker was invisible? Mages could do that kind of thing, right? Willow's hand strayed to her longsword again, though she did not draw it.

"I am not a guide." The dark clothed woman responds coldly, her barren tone sending a chill through the air as she sets her hood back. "My name is Xira."
Manalagna Hammer was inspecting his new "toys" (a +1 Flaming Scimitar, +2 Quarterstaff, +2 Sling and 20 +2 bullets) that Dusk had selected for the Druid from the armory when the familiar cold greeting met his ears!

Turning to address his old foe, Manalagna Hammer quips:

"Ah ... Xira! I would recognize the melody of your voice in any clime! Good to see you have recovered so soon!"

"Seems your homeworld is in danger! Perhaps you would like to defend it with the Death Scythe?"

"You may have it back if it suits you!"

Manalagna Hammer is genuine in his offer, figuring that with her homeworld threatened by an unknown force that the Death Scythe would be more useful in her hands than in his!

"I'll receive it back then." Xira replies, taking the scythe back from Manalagna.

From the depths of her belt's pouch, Xira pulls out a roll of cloth, and goes to wrap the scythe.

"Hold it." Armand speaks up, his tone altogether serious.

Xira stops and looks in his direction, regarding his metal-masked face apathetically.

"That scythe... it holds a taint unlike anything I've seen in this world." Armand continues, "It should be destroyed."

"And how do you intend to do that?" Xira asks evenly.

"Against the power that I embody, it shall shatter." Armand replies, his tone just as even.

Xira pauses for a moment, and shrugs, "Try then." She says simply, before tossing the scythe into the air.

However, rather than simply fall to the floor, the scythe hovers in the air, appearing as how one would put it in a vertical stand. The hall seems to grow colder, darker, and with a blaze, the scythe's black aura appears, enshrouding it in blackness. The eyes in the blade's design glow a faint red, daring Armand to continue his chosen path.

"Steel your resolve, and don't give in to darkness." Armand says coolly, although a bead of sweat glides down his forehead.

Even Caduceus has fallen silent, inert in Armand's hands. Armand raises the staff, and about him his own aura appears, white and opposite to that of the scythe. His aura concentrates itself along the length of Caduceus, and he swings a mighty blow.

A searing wind blows throughout the hall as Caduceus impacts the Death Scythe, the two energies conflicting, sparking and chaotically dancing about the hall. One moment, the hall appears to be bathed in light, almost an image of the splendour of heaven, save for the dark shadow around the Death Scythe, and the next, the hall can't even be seen in the darkness, as everyone feels their soul almost leaking through some crack in their body. When not at these two extremes, light and darkness crisscross the hall in chaotic fragments, each trying to overwhelm the other. Black hexagons surround the Death Scythe, as more and more of them appear, striking and knocking the staff back and away, yet each time it does so, Armand swings yet again, sundering through the black shield.

However, the shield isn't what the Scythe is concentrating on. Its aura pulsates, a disgusting and sickeningly globular image, as bits fly off into the hall. Armand's eyes widen just slightly, as he comes to a realization. The Scythe isn't even using its full power to keep him at bay, and there is something even darker within the Scythe, a hidden ability that Armand catches a glimpse of, but whatever his reaction might have been, it is covered by his steel mask. The white aura about Armand weakens, as the darkness swallows it, enveloping both the staff and Armand, and the hall is taken into shadow. For a fleeting moment, body and soul alike are damaged, with the body beginning to feel weak and hollow, and the soul filled with doubt and sorrow.

Eventually, light returns as the darkness fades, and the hall returns to how it was originally. Everyone has collapsed upon the floor, save for one person. Xira can be seen swiftly wrapping the Death Scythe professionally, as she has done many times before. However, the darkness in her eyes seems just somewhat more complete, with the darkness spreading beyond her irises and tainting the whites of her eyes. Once that is done, the entirety of the cloth roll she used is consumed, and Xira places the scythe in its sling upon her back. She turns to look at the still form of Armand on the floor.

"You should be glad that is all it chose to do." Xira says apathetically, her voice mirroring the darkness that once filled the hall.

From the floor, what looks like a little girl gets up, albeit a bit shakily. However, her proportions are incorrect; she is the size of a little girl, but if one considers her appearance, it is more fitting of an adult. She wears a violet silken dress with an open back for an easily apparent reason. Upon her back is a set of iridescent coloured dragonfly wings. She has silver hair, and also wears a few pieces of jewellery, namely two rings, and a necklace, all exquisite pieces of art with clearly coloured and well cut, pretty gemstones. Upon her hip is a simple pouch, carried by a belt.

"I wouldn't suggest doing that again any time soon," The sylph says, her voice easily recognizable as that of the invisible Scout.

Reaching into the pouch at her belt, the sylph draws out five aquamarine gemstones. She throws them into the air, where they hover in an evenly spread pentagon. "Xilanthe yan olsne tarra ne." She intones, and as she does so, a magic circle appears in the air, the same colour as the gemstones and using them within it. There is a shower of blue sparkles that sprinkle from the circle, flowing into each person, except Xira.

"I can heal myself." Xira says coldly, holding out a bandaged hand and diverting the sparkles away from her.

Once the spell is done, the magic circle is used up, and with it, the gemstones.

"I hope that helps." The scout says, "But it will take a while for everyone to to fully recover, and that is time which we don't have. The Linsempti will only gain a stronger foothold in this world the longer we wait. Therefore, it is essential that we move out as soon as we can."

Mitsuru and Akihiko quickly get up, "Agreed." Mitsuru says, "Alright, we can heal on the road, let's get the supplies we need and move out. We meet at the North Gate and head north along the road to Venerro. Understood?"

---

The trek toward Venerro, with the mountain now giving a feeling of apprehension with the cracks in the world above it, is surprisingly uneventful during this day. There are no sounds of wildlife, and the wind barely whistles through the area. More importantly, the enemy is nowhere to be seen. The sun is setting over the horizon when Mitsuru calls a halt to the ride.

"I don't like it. We should have run into resistance by now." She murmurs, her eyes continuing to scan the horizon.

"Me neither." Akihiko adds, "And I'm getting bored."

"Akihiko, why are you always like that?" Mitsuru asks rhetorically, rolling her eyes, "Anyway, we are now presented with a choice. Do we continue toward Venerro, meaning we will reach the bottom at mid-day tomorrow, or will we make camp for the night, in which case we will arrive at the base of Venerro at dusk tomorrow? I personally suggest the latter, for fairly apparent reasons, but I'll leave the decision to the rest of you."

"I don't see any Linsemptus nearby," the scout adds, although invisible to the party, "But that doesn't mean there aren't any. If you set up camp, I'll keep watch, but it would be best if you set up a watch as well; I can't watch all ways at once after all."

((Alright, we are at the first crossroads, as I have Mitsuru point out, you have two options, both with its advantages and disadvantages. Everyone has sustained substantial damage from the attempt to destroy the Death Scythe in the form of 5 points of ability damage to each ability for each person (15 each ability for Armand, at the core of the offence), however, that is offset by the sylph's magic restoring 15 points for each person (except Xira, however, you can duly note that she seems to have been a bit less affected by the attack, and Armand, who receives 30 points as a result of Xira's relinquishing of her points, but who needs them the most). You get to choose which abilities are restored and by how much. Make your choice, and if you set up camp I'll need to know your watch order and such. Oh, on another note, Armand isn't dead; the 'unmoving' is just a reference to the fact that for that moment, his STR was reduced to 0. Another, hopefully final note is that everyone is on horseback (specifically, light warhorses), and everyone has their own tent and similar set of supplies if they desire.))

Willow reached one hand up and held her temple for a moment, processing what Mitsuru asked. She closed her eyes- a mistake for the image of the blast was still etched beneath her lids. I... I want to keep going, we could still go a ways before we need to rest. Curst be the world. Her thoughts moved sluggishly, perceiving the world as though a strange and exotic realm. Though it shamed her to admit, Willow wouldn't have disagreed with a rest at this point in time. The vile shockwave of the scythe had taken something out of her, that was for certain. Beneath her breastplate, her lion talisman worked away to maintain her endurance, but even then she felt impaired.

That blast. Armand went ahead and suddenly attacked the weapon, but it fought back with a great malice. The force it threw out took everyone down. It seemed that it had killed the saint who attacked it, but he was found alive, too weak to even move his own body.

From her vantage behind Xira - a not entirely conincidential event - she could see the 'Death Scythe' slung over her shoulder. She was no mage, but she didn't have to be to take a chill over the malevolence of the tool. She had noticed both Deunan and Mist throwing baleful looks to the weapon when they though Xira wasn't paying attention. They clearly did not condone such evil so close, but could do nothing against it.

With The help of the sylph woman, the taint of the dark force on the mortal bodies of these collected heroes was lightened, just slightly. Willow's body, after some stretches, was apparantly restored to full manoeuverability, which was the most important thing for her. To fight with a sword in each hand required great hand-eye coordination and demanded that the body work exactly as it was bid. Nevertheless, her strength was diminished, as well as this sickening fog over her mind.

She looked to her fellow Lieutenant. One look was all she needed to tell the weight of the curse burdened him similarly. "I think we should keep going, to cover more distance tonight."

(The following will either occur while Willow guides her horse up next to Mist's or while camp is being struck. Willow's opinion will be that two should be kept on watch at all times (we have the numbers, I think) and suggest that she and Mist will take the first watch.)

Damn, why did they ever promote me if I can't even speak when I want to? "They say the void gazes back at you, when you do that." Willow was probably just as startled as Mist was, who was focusing so intently on Xira's bandaged scythe.

"I don't know what that weapon is, but it isn't good. Yet, it isn't evil either, and I don't understand it."

Willow was confounded by the report also. If it wasn't evil, what was it? It clearly carried no good will, but neither any evil? "You can see evil as clearly as the road, or the mountain, so I hear." Willow states evenly, "and you say you can't see any within the scythe?" She knew the answer, Mist had answered once already, she asked for confirmation.

"No... It's strange; my heart tells me it should be evil, yet my senses tell me otherwise." Mist murmurs, her hand lying across the hilt of her sword, which some would view as a provocation, but as Yin told Willow before, was also of comfort to the paladin. The question Willow was getting to was answered without needing to be asked, it was clear that Mist could dream up no possible explaination for this.

"In your experience, what causes objects to look evil? Is it in the magic?" Willow's head was beginning to throb, this was entirely too much thinking for right now, with her mind so burdened.

"I've found there are two things that cause objects to be evil. One is if the object has a will of its own, and that will has evil intent. The other is when the creator's evil taint is dark enough to be mirrored by their creation." Mist replies, shaking her head, "Only an evil person would make such a terrible object, I am sure of it! It's an item that harms everything around it, including the one who wields it!

"I doubt she'll admit it." Mist continues, her train of thought continuing, "But you can see it clearly if you look at her eyes or her hands. Even her voice bears the item's taint. Cold, and empty. No one would make such a thing... no one who was sane anyway..." Mist murmurs, her voice fading.

An object with a will of its own. That idea gave Willow a chill. Cadeceus, the talking staff, was a charming enough example of an item that had a personality and will, but when that thought extended to evil variants. An inanimate object that burns with hate and desire to do harm. Too much. "Thank-you" Willow said. The rest of the watch/ride passed without another word exchanged between them.

"Magic..." Dusk mumbled. The room was beginning to come back into focus again. The dull haze that blurred all the other humans, the dwarf and whatever this Xira was, cleared more with every flash of his eyelids. But that did little to nothing for Dusk's senses.

He realized he was kneeling with one hand on the ground and another on his knee. His mind was fuzzy and processing his surroundings seemed difficult. Dusk barely noticed the Scout in the middle of the room and the spell that she cast. He did notice the strength flowing back into his limbs and the urge to vomit reducing to a dull ache everywhere. His head cleared a little, but the magic did nothing for the irritation that now creeped up him. A frown decorated his face as he stood, flexing his fingers and wrists.

The others slowly stood and gathered themselves. Some of their strength had returned from the Scout's regenerative magic but Dusk knew he was far from completely healthy and imagined that everyone else must have been in no better a state.

"I hope that helps." The scout says, "But it will take a while for everyone to to fully recover, and that is time which we don't have. The Linsempti will only gain a stronger foothold in this world the longer we wait. Therefore, it is essential that we move out as soon as we can."

Mitsuru and Akihiko quickly got up.

"Agreed," Mitsuru said. "Alright, we can heal on the road, let's get the supplies we need and move out. We meet at the North Gate and head north along the road to Venerro. Understood?"

Dusk nodded along with the rest, following the group to the stables. He had learned a long time ago, before the majority of these humans' parents had been born, that his instinct was often the best warning he would get. Unfortunately, he couldn't tell if the ache in his gut was from what just happened, or was his ancestors telling him to turn back now and delay their meeting.



Not long after leaving the hall, the whole of the party had arranged their goods across their beasts of burden, including Dusk who did not often ride but took advantage of something else carrying his things. He slid one of the sais he owned into a loop on the saddle and a sheathed dagger onto the other side. The nunchaku he stored in his extradimensional baggage.

For the majority of the journey Dusk rode with the rest did not engage in conversation. His replies were short and to the point of any questions. He did not even touch the filled waterskin that sat against his mare, Barley Rain, a docile young beast who's lineage was purely of the plainlands.

For some time Dusk rode beside the dwarf, Hammer. Besides the sylph Scout and Xira, Hammer was the only other who was not simply mortal.

"You spoke with the woman, Xira, as if you knew her," said Dusk when he and the dwarf were a little apart from the group and far from Xira. "What do you know of her?"

((Allowing for conversation))

By the time the two had finished speaking the sun was nearing the end of its route through the sky. Breaks in the darkening atmosphere were obscured now by the cracks in the world above Venerro. The elf reigned in Barley Rain as Mitsuru called for a halt and the group maneuvered their beasts so as to all be included in the discussion.

"I don't like it. We should have run into resistance by now." She murmurs, her eyes continuing to scan the horizon.

"Me neither." Akihiko adds, "And I'm getting bored."

"Akihiko, why are you always like that?" Mitsuru asks rhetorically, rolling her eyes, "Anyway, we are now presented with a choice. Do we continue toward Venerro, meaning we will reach the bottom at mid-day tomorrow, or will we make camp for the night, in which case we will arrive at the base of Venerro at dusk tomorrow? I personally suggest the latter, for fairly apparent reasons, but I'll leave the decision to the rest of you."

"I don't see any Linsemptus nearby," the scout adds, although invisible to the party, "But that doesn't mean there aren't any. If you set up camp, I'll keep watch, but it would be best if you set up a watch as well; I can't watch all ways at once after all."

"I think we should keep going, to cover more distance tonight," contributed one of the humans from Aqinarr.

"A night's foothold for a legion is nothing compared to what ten could do to us if we are not at our best," retorted Dusk. "Let us set a watch and rest for the night. It would not do us any good to have a beast break a leg in the darkness, either."

Dusk's personality had not improved much since the incident but common sense should hold here. Mitsuru and her consort did not seem the stupid type. Dusk dismounted and tied his mare to a piton stuck into the ground, making his opinion of their options abundantly clear.

((Equipment changes:

+1 horse
Water moved to horse
1 sai moved to horse
1 dagger moved to horse

Question: Since Dusk is an elf and is wearing a ring of sustenance, how much sleep/trance do I need? Normal = 8 hours, Ring = 8*.25=2, Elf = 8*.5=4. So is it 1, 2 or 1.5?))

Willow shifted in her saddle slightly. Even though her armour, a testament to the magnificent craftsmanship of the North, was light as a feather compared to the standard iron or steel fair, it still got hot after hours of riding with the sun beating down on her back. She flicked a quick glance at the secretive and aloof 'Dusk', while he was dismounting. He was tall for an elf, amazingly so, almost. He could have been a half-elf but for his very distinct elven features.

Yin looked to her, questioningly. With a nod, he commanded their troop to set up camp for the night. Willow tied up her horse and fetched his supper out of the saddlebags. Still stiff from the long ride, she performed a few stretches to keep herself limber, then finally unbuckled her breastplate. The cooling summer air caressed her body, now released from the protective shell of her armour. As comfortable as the fit was, the straps of her breastplate did leave behind slight discomfort, but Willow knew that the rest of her team would be facing worse pains.

She left her armour by her horse to cool down from body temperature, and rejoined the discussion (assuming time would have passed in which others would be finished performing their own rituals of dismounting and setting up camp). "We should set up watches in pairs, Corporal Mist and I- we will take the first watch." Her tone left no room for response, though that may have been because forcing herself to speak so openly again might have killed her.

Willow retrieved her armour before her watch and put it back on. She could, and would sleep in it without extreme discomfort.

(This is essentially the stuff thrown together in the brackets of my last post)

Dusk landed lightly after swinging his right leg over the saddle. A small cloud of dust swirled around his feet and hung about for a moment before settling. There had been a small breeze earlier but in the twilight it disappeared. He glanced back and caught the eye of Willow, the female human that led the band from Aqinarr, for a moment but did not hold the gaze. Instead, he removed his pack from the saddle and secured his horse.

Setting up camp was simple. Dusk was used to traveling lightly and without much cover. His cloak was often better than any tent, especially those standards that the human soldiers put up with. Unfurling his bedroll, Dusk set it near his horse. The pack he left on the ground, weighting on end of the roll.

The others had gathered once again to discuss the watch.

"We should set up watches in pairs, Corporal Mist and I- we will take the first watch," said Willow.

"We number a dozen plus one," said Dusk. "Not including the Scout. We should take watches of less than two hours, to give each of us as much rest as possible."

"I will scout ahead tonight. We should be prepared to leave before dawn," he added.

((Dusk will take his hour of rest while Willow and Mist are on watch but I expect resistance to the last part.))