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Fantasy World of Gea: The Greatest Adventure [IC] [CLOSED]

As the days passed and the expedition took its time with the city of Waterham, took the time to not only thank Fluffy for his words of wisdom and advice but also to interact and make friends with the people of the city. She knew from the Sheriff and otherwise that they were distrustful of outsiders, for good reason too, but ultimately would likely be open to reciprocate shows of friendship. In the plaza she did small displays of druidic magic to appeal to the younglings there, such as growing flowers from the ground and sprouting water from her hands for a show that appealed to their sense of curiosity and wonder. After all, it wasn't every day one got to see such a display of magic in such a manner. Much of what she had learned came from the Tuatha with their reverence for the peace that comes from nature and her magics showed it, although there was also a more destructive side to such forces as worshipped by the Fir Bolg and what Gsera had learned from them too... although she only had ever used it once against another being in self-defence just recently.

From time to time she would check in on Kastalli's condition along with Syll as she recovered from her wounds that she had received on that night and was happy to see her friend get better enough to eventually travel and leave. As the morn of the sixth day dawned, the young ddraig slept rather peacefully in the tent atop her belly with her cheek pressed against the small pillow and didn't even register Kastalli's tail accidentally hitting her in the face a few times. However what did rouse her from slumber was the annoyingly loud clanging of pots stirred her from under her blanket. She would have appreciated perhaps another hour of sleep, but she begrudgingly awoke as everyone else stirred as well and was greeted by Kastalli's early morning conversation.

"Mmm... yes, yes... slept fine..." she mumbled aloud as the chilly morning air greeted her mouth, releasing vapor into the air before turn to her side and slowly rising, making sure to keep herself covered as she began to wake up. "How do you feel?" she then asked Kastalli, "All better now?"
 
It was at times like this when Syll was reminded to truly appreciate peace, when you can see your allies smile and laugh knowing that the battle was over, even if it was going to be short-lived, so he decided he was to refrain from his solo habits and enjoy the company of his peers during these days. And so he did, as he juggled his time between taking care of Kastalli, debate with his spellcaster companions and generally reinforcing his bonds with the rest of the company.

It was the third day the one he held as the most memorable in his mind as Syllannan participated in a series of sparring matches with the company warriors. The two most notable were his duels with Petrocles and Alberto: Petro was a formidable foe. Not only was he far more skillful and dexterous than his looks may suggest, but Syll was also surprised by the fact he was overpowered in a contest of raw strength, because as naturally strong as he was, the Minotavur's blows felt like they had the weight of boulders behind them. It was his loss in the end, but it was an enlightening fight that showed him he couldn't stay satisfied with his current performance, as well as having a newfound respect for Petro. Then it was Alberto's duel, and despite all odds it seems Syll ended was the victor of the match, all the fights before that probably served as a great warm up for that one, to think he had outmatched such a well known adventurer filled him with even more motivation.

New Trait Obtained: Relentless Duelist


Before he could realize, the morning of their last day on Waterham was here, and it was a pretty cold morning at that. Fortunately though Syll was quite snuggly and comfortable under the covers, more than usual actually. But the peaceful morning was interrupted by the sudden clash of metal echoing through the inside of the tent. Syll groaned and attempted to rub his eyes with his hands but something was obstructing his right arm, as he opened his eyes and looked over to see that Kastalli was resting on his shoulder and was also waking up. His face turned red almost instantly as they both sat up.

"Oh. Good morning, Syllannan!"

"u-uh yes! G-good morning Kastalli, the weather seems quite lovely today..." he responded as he looked aside hiding his blushing face. "Oh, and good morning to you as well Sera" he said in a far more relaxed tone.

After recovering his composure he checked on his belongings to prepare for the morning, and he noticed that his hair was noticeably unwieldy an wild this time around. He looked at both Kastalli and Sera.

"Uhm, sorry to be a bother, but could i have some help with my braid here?"
 
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"Good morning as well." Gsera replied sin a half-asleep manner to Syll as he awoke, before her attention was then grabbed by Syll's following request for help with his hair, which immediately caused her to perk up in attention and broke her drowsiness. "Oh? I can help with that!" she quickly said with a grin and she moved her blanket to properly drape around herself before sitting up properly and shambling on her knees to orient herself behind him. She ran her fingers through his hair to straighten it out before tilting her head, "Do you want it like it was before... or something else?" she then asked as she continued to straighten it out, "There are plenty of ways I know of when I learned as a youngling."
 
Syll couldn't help but worry at the prospect of Sera the wild druid getting creative with his hair... but well, it's not like it could go wrong...right?

"Well, i guess a bit of change is not bad every now and then, do as you like"
 
Gawain was all too happy to discuss magic with his fellow company members, even if Syll had some questionable opinions on a new upstart in the field. Even though he had not been awake in this age for long he still managed to read the thesis of that mage on his travels, thinking it a bunch of drivel written by a hack fraud who knew nothing of what he was talking about. Still, there was little reason to lampoon a young mind such as Syll's over it, as he would have plenty of years ahead of him to make mistakes and learn.

During the nights Gawain sat with his arms and legs crossed in a tent, completely awake yet letting his mind drift in a state of contemplative meditation in attempts to find the Watcher. While he did find himself in a dreamlike state at times, he was unsure if he was any closer to his goal.

This morning he stepped out of his tent slowly, looking at the company starting to pack supplies as they made ready to move to a new land. Would it be as hazardous as this little township of Hobs was? Probably, but that was preferable to being bored searching empty fields of safety.

"Happy to report that there were no demons skulking about at night." Gawain announced while moving to the center of camp. His wraith poked its hooded head up from his shadow on the ground, using it to stay out of the sunlight as it merged with his silhouette like a pool of water. "At least, not that I saw or heard."
 
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Gsera was a bit surprised as to the free reign she had been given by her friend, but she then realized it was a sign of trust. Harkening back to Fluffy's words, this was very good to have with a friend and she brightened up significantly as she gave a nod: "I think I know what would look nice!" she announced as she began her work, twirling and braiding carefully and methodically to achieve the desired result. It felt almost like working with a canvas but instead of painting it was sculpting... with someone's precious hair. A bad braid would not be acceptable in any way either to her nor to Syll and she was deeply focused on getting the best outcome possible.

While being careful and methodical in how she worked with Syll's hair, Gsera also had the experience to be able to work relatively quickly with actual decades of practice in this affair with all the times she, N'yana and many of the other Tuatha girls would pass the time decorating their hairs, including Sera's own illusory hair, into extraordinary patterns and styles. She might not actually have been a Tuatha, but she always had learned and grew up with them for many years to the point where they felt like family alongside her father. She softly hummed a tune as she continued to work at a steady pace before finally sighing and letting go of Syll's hair to observe her work.

The braid now inlaid atop his head, and looking perfectly fine without any issues, she nodded and clapped: "Alright, all done! What do you think Syll?"
 
"How do you feel?"
"I feel much better than a did a few days ago," she smiled at Sera. "However, it may take a few more days before I can hunt like a proper Skæglin." Sure, she was able to move around fine on her own but any sudden twists or turns in her body were definitely uncomfortable. Kastalli needed to make sure she took things slow as to not cause any more stress on her body.
"Uhm, sorry to be a bother, but could i have some help with my braid here?"
Kastalli turned her attention back to Syllannan, her ear twitching slightly. She opened her mouth to speak but Sera had beat her to it as the Tuatha shifted over to him to get started on his hair. She knew a few styles when it came to braiding but she really only preferred the braids she had that framed her face. It probably would be better off to allow Sera to take over as she seemed much more confident. She did watch her friend carefully untangle Syllannan's hair and her fingers worked fast to weave strands of hair into a beautiful braid that ran to the back of his head. "You look very handsome, Syllannan! However, I do like your usual braid a bit more - this style seems to cover your cute ears."
 
Much to the half-elf's surprise, Sera turned out to be quite talented at handling his hair, in fact he was prepared for painful yanks that never really happened. Soon enough she was done and Syll took a small piece of mirror from his bag to take a look, his hair was styled in a type of braid he hasn't seen before, it certainly was a lot more loose than what he's used to, but it wasn't bad at all, he quite liked it actually!

"Huh, you sure can come up with some really unexpected talents, it looks really good, thanks a lot Sera"
"You look very handsome, Syllannan! However, I do like your usual braid a bit more - this style seems to cover your cute ears."

"Huh?! O-oh thanks, yeah I really like my usual style as well... Yours are a lot cuter though... A-anyways! If my memory serves right we are supposed to meet with the mayor today, can't help but feel pretty honored about it" said Syll as he put on his leather vest and cloak.
 
Syll's sudden flustering and nervousness to Kastalli's comments made Gsera giggle aloud like a gossiping handmaiden as she brought the tips of her fingers to her mouth to hide her laughing in a futile manner. She didn't want to make too much fun of him, but she could not help but wordlessly mouth to Kastalli behind his back I think he likes you. with a sly grin lining her face before moving to gather her things nearby to properly dress for the coming day. Using the blanket as a protective shield from prying eyes as best as she could, she quickly put on her undergarments before squeezing into her armor pieces until she was finally ready for the day. She took a look around the tent and saw the rousing members of the expedition one by one... and then realized that there was someone missing. "Did anyone see Devy?" she then asked aloud with a hint of concern, "Did he get up earlier?"
 
Calocis sat in the tent with the others. He was lost in a deep, meditative trance… My sovereigns, his brow furrowed, his eyes shut tight and dancing behind his eyelids, … Speak to me. Please…

He was met with silence.

The past several days had been unlike anything he’d ever experienced in all his years under the earth. The Hobs of this village were grateful for the presence of the Company, and their hand in driving back the horde of darkness that had assailed them. But that did not change the looks he’d received… He was, after all, one of them. A cultist serving a pantheon of dark and evil gods.

On this day, things were both different and the same. Today was the day they’d be moving on. And as Calocis emerged from his trance-like state, his senses were met with the clanging of pans and a bustle of activity from inside the tent.

Calocis grumbled as he set about the morning’s rituals, including prayer. His eyes were heavy, laden with the sleep that had been eluding him these past few nights.
 
On the departure day, Korzhev was woken up by pans clanged together. He cursed. The unbearable noise had sucessfully woken him up from a rather wholesome dream. But the bitterness from being ripped out of the dream was gone and was replaced instead with alertness, the events of the previous day. He had agreed to accompany Alberto on a fishing trip, having used that as a guise for some much needed meditation. He couldn't quite remember what he'd spoken of to his patron, though. That too had been interrupted when his assistance was required to cure a little Hob from poisoning. Thanks to a timely casted blessing, the child had not died. Once that whole ordeal was over he had meant to ask Alberto whether he'd had any luck with the fish, which he still had yet to inquire about.


But before that, he had to undergo a very simple morning ritual: tea. The energizing kind, as well as a good old fix for hangovers. While the idea was slowly taking root in his mind, he was off, a pot having practically materialized in his hands. Soon enough that same pot was resting above a little campfire and Korzhev was lazily stirring it, mixing in the herbs and leaves.

Once done, he had poured himself a cup, offered a few others to some interested company members, cheerfully explaining the effects of the brew. "It's quite terrible after a night of drinking, though. Great for soreness!"
 
"Did anyone see Devy?...Did he get up earlier?"

"Can't say i have, but i don't think this is the first time, he does like to dissapear every now and then, but i can imagine that those often being the center of attention need some time for themselves, so you probably shouldn't worry"

Syll finished prepairing his belongings and headed out of the tent, and just one step out of it, he was surprised by Khorzev offering some tea, not like it was a bad thing, if anything it was the opposite as the lovely aroma of the tea reached his nostrils.

"I'll gladly take it, it smells wonderful!" said Syll as he enjoyed a light sip of the tea, its warmth was wonderfully welcomed in such a cold morning

"Say, Korzhev, is tea very common in your homeland? because you're clearly talented at it"
 
"You sure you don't wish any assistance?" Pot asked as he watched Sentry lift the anvil under her arm. He doubted she wanted any, but didn't hurt to ask.

"The cart's right there." The barbarian answered as she swung the sack of additional supplies over her back "Don't you worry about me." The squire could do nothing but shrug as the woman carried roughly half his weight on her like it was nothing. In truth Sentry's troubles were elsewhere. The memories that had been unlocked days prior seem to be attached to something else. Runes had something to do with it, but how were they connected? Cassandra said she would find something, but it had been days. She thought about talking with the other magic sages in the party. Surely if they were aware as well, they could figure something out? Coincidentally she walked near one of them now. "What brew have you concocted in your cauldron today master toad?" She asked Korzhev after stopping and letting the anvil down.
 
Syll's words helped ease Gsera's worries as she gave a nod to him and let the worries drift off away from her mind before shivering from the morning chill that permeated the air. It was rather nippy but fortunately it seemed as though Korzhev had prepared a nice tea brew to warm everyone's spirits in these early hours of the day. Gsera rubbed her arms as she approached Korzhev and took in the aroma of the tea within the cauldron. It was a delightful smell that lent to its natural properties as the ddraig gave a smile and nodded: "Smells very pleasant, thank you for the brew Korzhev!" she spoke as she took a cup for herself and slowly top a gulp, allowing the brew to spread its warmth to her core.

She kept the cup in between her hands to warm them as well before noticing Sentry had approached as well and tilted her head towards her: "Are you not cold like that, Sentry?" she then asked, "Would be bad to catch cold."
 
"I have a few pelts to keep me warm on the move and a warm pint-sized man to keep me comfort during the nights." Sentry answered Gsera as she picked up some of the tea. "And should the cold get too much, I can turn to stone to avoid feeling the cold bit of winter. Just like I did while guarding the tomb." She took a sip from the cup. "Ah, this is strong. Probably could light something on fire."
 
Abasi woke up his eyes opening slowly...he was back at the inn , this would be the day that the company left the city so he should get back to the camp quickly, he was used to moving around so it was no problem for him...he rolled to feel if his companion for the past night was still there...he only felt the warm place where they had been "left already.." he whispered , of course they always did come and go and abasi was used to only getting the feel of that slight warm spot in the bed left by them...
Slowly he got up and started to look around the room hunting for his clothes , as always they were scattered all over , he got clothed and walked outside hungry for some breakfast but then running into Alberto and Cecilia hearing their talk about Devereaux.
"Devy is not here ?...thats strange , we always performed a bit after breakfast and he always was here before me ready to dance if you wish i could help you look for him"
 
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Awakening to the banging of a pot was momentarily confusing to Petrocoles, for in those groggy seconds of waking up and fluttering his eyes, he thought he was back home and hearing the sounds of the washer-men and women returning with their clean utensils from the river. He had been quite sure they were loud on purpose, though once when he had peered outside as they passed, he felt embarrassed to realize how cumbersome their task was - staves hefted over their shoulders, with pots, pans, bowls, and other large utensils tied upon the staves for easy transportation. Families often used nearby wells, but when you had so much to wash, a dip in the river with the laundry was more convenient.

Petro spared a moment to stretch, feeling fairly refreshed. Sleeping on the ground was how he always slept, for the most part. Beds were often creaky things stuffed with straw, or simply stone or marble slabs decorated with furs. On the ground was where you slept with your pillows in a pile around you. A bed was better left for eating on, or other more intimate activities. Sadly, there was a lack of pillows here, but at least the others offered him some space - probably because of the horns.

The others were already getting up and mulling about, getting dressed and ready for the day. Syll was getting his hair braided, and Petro watched for a moment, interested in the artistry at hand. He was probably far too clumsy with his fingers to do such small, intricate work, and he shrugged to himself and donned his chiton, a white length of cloth with bright blue decorative lines that fastened over one shoulder. The morning chill did not bother him much - he was used to such temperatures in the mountains, and he often preferred the cold against his body than the stifling summer heat. He had a cloak for colder weather, but unless snow was in the air, he could go without.

This got him wondering if Paulin ever got around to purchasing a scarf at his recommendation. When they had been at the market the other day, the man always seemed rather close to him, like he was cold. Always rubbing his neck, too, probably in an effort to keep warm. He would have bought Paulin one himself, but he didn't know how to size them right.

Outside, he enjoyed a small mug of warm tea thanks to Korzhev. He sipped at it, savoring the mild flavor, but more content with the fact that it was a warm beverage. "You are kind to brew for us," Petro said with a smile. "This flavor is new to me, but if I can find leaves from back home, I would be happy to share what I know." Admittedly, that wasn't much. Grandmother had always been keen on ensuring he could cook, as well as read and write with sufficiency.
 
Korzhev's smile widened when he saw some of his fellow company members join him for morning tea. "Good morning, mister Syll madam Sentry and Sera, mister Petro. Today's brew is the good ol' green tea. This one's the usual to go for after a terrible hangover! he chuckled, "oh but, it's best enjoyed as it is now, with a good friend on a cold day. It is made with common herbs so I would be happy to show you how to brew it! Would you like a cup yourself, madam? He tentatively held one up for the giant woman.

Watching his friends drink away at the tea and his pot starting to empty he added "Ah, I am quite glad you are enjoying yourselves."

Korzhev perked up at Petro's suggestion to show him other kinds of teas and herbs. "Well I am always in need of new recipes so I'd be glad to hear all about it!"
 
Calocis waited in silence for the tent to empty before dressing himself in his traveling clothes. He was not so immodest as these... Savages.

Slowly, reverently, he applied the signs and seals of his patrons to his person, speaking the name of each god aloud, along with a short, fervent prayer. That done, Cal slipped one rake-thin arm into the sleeve of the deep purple-and-black robes that, once adorned, rendered him utterly shapeless before donning his elaborate, silver-and-onyx mantle, from which many more tokens hung, tied in place with lengths of silvery corded rope. Every movement was familiar, a ceremony.

Only this morning Calocis' motions were sluggish, clumsy... He'd fumbled with each artifact. One nearly slipped through his fingers... Lack of sleep, lack of food. Lack of faith. These three wracked his body, at first one after the other. Now, all at once. As a pang of hunger clawed at his inside, Calocis could take no more. He threw himself to the floor of the tent and clasped his hands overhead.

Darkfather, why do you afflict me so... Have I not... Done Your will?

These past days, while his new fellows drank, explored, and made merry... Calocis dwelled in darkness. In solitude. Refusing food. Eluding sleep. And now, he felt as if he'd approached a tipping point. Past which there could be no return.

My Sovereign, please... Send me not from Your sight. Deliver me. Pl—

Calocis, thinking he had heard a rustle of the tent flaps behind him, cut himself off. Seeing no one there, the elf, through great effort, roused himself to his feet.

Shakily, he emerged into the cold light of day. The sun was harsh on his subterranean eyes as the morning frost bit at what little exposed skin there was. Scowling from out of the mouth of the tent, Calocis pretended to ignore the burgeoning band of his fellows enjoying cups of bitter-smelling tea.

He wrapped his mantle more tightly around himself, and remained. Better than them. Better than this rabble. Beasts, and swamp-creatures, and unclean things, they were. Sleeping in the dirt with the animals. Un-blessed. Un-worthy. Un-...

GroOooOoowl.

It appeared his stomach was in open rebellion.
 
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Alberto watched and giggled gregariously as he watched how Sera worked on Syllannan's long brown hair while Kastalli watched next to them. The scene reminded him of the old days when he was a young questing knight travelling the known world with his companions of old. He remembered how the twins Keryth and Tassarion worked on his hair while the Žarko and Kyekyeku watched while preparing a near over the campfire. Sweet memories of better times best to be forgotten. He didn't let the memory sour the moment though, he continued watching until Sera was done, the new style suited Syllannan quite well, but as Kastalli said after complimenting him, the current hairstyle did not show his elven ancestry.

Kastalli said:
"You look very handsome, Syllannan! However, I do like your usual braid a bit more - this style seems to cover your cute ears."
Syllannan said:
"Huh?! O-oh thanks, yeah I really like my usual style as well... Yours are a lot cuter though... A-anyways! If my memory serves right we are supposed to meet with the mayor today, can't help but feel pretty honored about it"

Alberto looked at Sera as she seem to reach the same conclusion. As he watched Gsera and Kastalli walk out of the tent, he grabbed Syll by his shoulder, giving the young man a sly grin. "Starting to look like a enamored court maiden, my boy!" The old knight let out a jolly laughter, patting the young mans shoulder several times before walking out of the tent alongside Syllannan. Calocis was the last to exit the tent and despite looking morose most of the time, he looked hungry at the moment. Cassandra suddenly emerged from the neighboring tent, only wearing a long inky tunic, rubbing her eyes and yawning loudly before gently punching Calocis' leg after hearing the dark elfs stomach grumble. "I heard that belly! You better grab some food sir!" She said before the Dökkálfar gave her a death stare. "U-uh... i-if you want of course! h-h-haha!" She said before side stepping towards Malthara's side, avoiding eye contact with the dark elf.

"She's right though... you need to eat something Calocis." said Cécilia while she grabbed a cup of tea, Alberto nodded in agreement. "The dwarves are taking care of the breakfast, I want to see you eat something... and that's an order from your superior, Understood?" Weather or not the dark elf listened to his under was irrelevant, Alberto was going to make sure he ate at least something, there were more pressing matters at the moment. Such as the enormous amazon walking around topless. "Uhm... mademoiselle Sentry, could you uh... put on your top?" said Cécilia while looking at Sentry's body. "I mean if you... don't want to I guess I can't force you but uh..." - "Yeah don't force her, we are enjoying the view here!" shouted a nearby fighter sitting by the pit fire. Cécilia rolled her eyes before giving Sentry a tired smile. She then proceeded to sit down next to Gawain, giving the undead sorcerer a friendly nod.

Gawain said:
"Happy to report that there were no demons skulking about at night. At least, not that I saw or heard."

"Is that gallows humor or graveyard humor?" asked Cécilia with a coy smile before taking a sip from Korzhev's tea. "Wow... this tea is actually really is strong! Woke me up quickly! Amazing tea master Korzhev!" She said giving a friendly smile to the content Korzhev before turning her attention back to the book she had in her hands. "You got yourself a girlfriend, my friend?" said Pepin, the veteran adventurer, while eyeing the wraith skulking about in the shadows, everyone in the company looked at that thing nervously. "I'm no one to judge of course... but it might be best if she were... away... for now, it's already hard enough to hide those damn ghūls of yours... and speaking of your ghūls, can you do something about the stench? Smells worse than the latrine." Alberto then approached the pit fire, cup of tea in hand. "Gawain will deal with this eventually, no need to fill his ear holes with complains this early in the morning surely!" said the old knight before sitting down next to the undead sorcerer.

Camp Morning.png

Everyone began to settle down throughout the camp with most sitting around the growing pit fire while the Dvergers began to work their culinary magic. Most in the camp were drinking a comfortable sweet tea one of the older warriors made but others were enjoying the strong but uplifting tea Korzhev had made, many complimenting the wise shaman for his recipe. Cassandra managed to get a few sips of the tea from Malthara's cup and now the Hob scholar moved like a twitchy and rabid gerbil, much to Malthara's amusement. While everyone waited for breakfast, Alberto got off his tree look seat to look at everyone before announcing todays plan. "After breakfast, some of you will have to disarm the tents and prepare the wagons to leave... I'll leave the organization to you Angelica. No beatings though! We are a expeditionary company, not a military mercenary band. Just make sure everyone works" He said while looking at the ex-Drachenjager Hamalan, who gave the old man a simple nod.

Alberto then looked at Waylond and Pot, who were sitting near Kastalli and Syll. "Waylond! you better polish your armor a bit. Us knights got to look like proper members of the gentry for todays departure ceremony." Just as Alberto sat back down, Paulin entered the fire pit circle and taking his usual spot, next to Petrocles. "So... I was wondering... is the travel to the Free Cities long?" asked the young adventurer while looking at Alberto, Cécilia and Pepin. The older adventurer gently stroked his beard, thinking of the paths to every different city. (Company Roll: 1d10 = 8) "Well... roads there must be affected by the maelstrom in some way, but they are not that far from Waterham, at least Joansburg and Roderick's Hope... but Brittle Wall, Guild Town and the Barony of Weliam are quite a distance... I'd say that... we have around 8 days of walking before reaching Brannoria... unless mademoiselle Delafousse wants to stay in any of the Free Cities." Asked Pepin while looking at the distracted Cécilia. "Maybe..." she said without pulling her eyes from her book.

Some of the group around the pit fire realized that they were now joined by Abasi, who had decided to rest in the city. He appeared a bit confused at first, and then slightly worried at the fact that Deveraux was not here.

Abasi said:
"Devy is not here...? thats strange, we always performed a bit after breakfast and he always was here before me ready to dance. If you wish, I could help you look for him"

Alberto lifted his gaze to look at Abasi, giving the young man a reassuring look. "I believe he is in the town my friend... but I am not particularly worried at the moment, if you wish to look for Devereaux though, feel free to do so!" He said giving the cat boy a thumbs up.

• Josephan's Walls •
Two constables watched the streets bellow them as several Hobs were putting up decorations for the departure ceremony. This was an strange but not unique event as it had happened a few years ago. The constables exchanged a few jokes with one another until they noticed something in the distance. The two men focused their eyes on the approaching caravan making their way down to Waterham. It was the Qaray, the nomadic travelers seen nearly everywhere in the world.

"Bloody Hel, 'tis those cheapskate bastards again." said the older constable only to be reprimanded by the younger one. "Oi ya cheeky old wanker, what did the sheriff say eh? Us gotta be more welcomin' to foreigners, 'tis not their fault they is weird freaks!" said the younger man while waving at the upcoming caravan. Unbeknownst to them, the caravan carried more than Qaray families, exotic Prasadi spices and colorful rugs.

• Unknown Backstreet •
Devereaux stood in the dark alley looking at the dark abyss ahead of him. The Hob thug that had approached him while everyone was sleeping was still next to him. A stocky and brutish little imp of a man whose hands did look like their could crush a skull. "Well.. wos ye lookin' at me fo? ye want some?" He said angerly, if slightly unnerved to be stared down by a creature of the dark. Devereaux rolled his eyes and looked at the darkness ahead again and after making one step towards it, he hears someone walking straight towards him. It was a humanoid figure, masculine in body and ambiguous in face, dressed in a mixture of black leathery armor and chainmail, he looked battle ready and thus the jester assumed the worst, that was until he noticed the Vampyr simply carried a cup of red wine... delicious... tasty... red wine... Devereaux's eyes began to glow with hunger upon realizing what was inside that cup. He watched the man approach him just a bit further, allowing Devy to have a closer look of this macabre but beautiful figure.

Radoš Jelić.png

"You carry your mothers essence." He said without giving Devereaux any greeting. "I must admit, I am quite lucky to speak with you Devereaux... I was stuck in this town waiting for some artifact from a local Hob but she had disappeared... but now you are here, right in front of me." He said with a smile as he eyes Devereaux's body. "...Your mother has been talking about you lately. She... desires to have her son back." He said as he swirled the contents of his wine mug, smearing the blood on its walls before giving Devy a little mischievous grin. "Ah, pardon me... I am just used to people knowing who I am, I am Radoš Jelić, servant of Baroness Mariette Reverdin II, head of the Reverdin dynasty and owner of various states in the Eranoiran countryside... and... your mother's best friend." He said while making a few steps around Devy, all while still swirling the contents of his mug, making Devereaux hungrier. "Now... I must admit that my curiosity gets the better of me at times but... I am genuinely interested in your mothers background, she barely speaks of it... maybe her cute little baby boy knows?" He said, putting the cup in front of Devy.
 
As the morning progressed and the expedition as a whole awoke one by one Gsera found herself collecting another refill of Korzhev's tea as she found herself liking the flavor enough to want some more in such chilly weather. She took a seat next to the big bonfire and listened as others had small conversations and chit-chat about various things, happy to be among friends and to be safe especially after all the commotion that had occurred several days ago. Yet she only remained half-listening as her mind wandered off for a brief moment as she looked about at all the others and noticed something that needed to be rectified. She stood up and collecting another refill of Korzhev's tea but also took a second cup along with her and filled it with the shaman's herbal tea.

Somewhat away from the main center of the camp, Gsera approached Dakarai and gingerly handed over the second cup over to him. "Here Dakarai, it's a bit cold this morning but Korzhev came up with this great tea to warm us all up!" she said with a cheery smile.
 
Sentry drank down whatever was left of her tea before setting the cup down. She waved off any offer for seconds seeing how the first dose already kicked like a mule. It woke her up well enough seeing how the camp was already in the process of being broken. The barbarian excused herself from the group and walked towards the direction where Gawain was last spotted. Even if she missed the sorcerer, the smell of his minions was a good a guide as any. The others feared or mistrusted his affinity to necromancy and with good reason, but she intended to stay by her words when they began this trip. She did wonder of the amount of angry spirits that cursed her name for using their bodies as warning posts during her time as a guardian. Maybe he could peer beyond the veil for a quick look to see who even remembers to hold a grudge for that long.

"Master wizard, do you have a moment?" Thankfully she found him rather quickly. Sentry couldn't help but look at the wraith standing next to him as she waited for an answer. A creature created by twisted magic and a victim of Gawain's ire. What sympathy she could feel for it quickly evaporates as she remembers who it served in life and what it aimed to do to her and any other victim they had in mind. Killing it would be a mercy the wizard would decide for himself when he can grant it.
 
Gawain put a few fingers around his jawbone as he processed Cécilia's question for a moment. "Neither." he responded flatly. His hand fell to his side after that, head looking to Pepin as he asked about the wraith. Now the subject of conversation it was doing well to hide its presence in Gawain's own shadow.

"Considering that the wraith is in a perpetual state of agony and bound to my will I do not think this to be a mutually beneficial or romantic relationship at all, no." the skull-headed mage replied. The complaint about his skeletons got him to cross his arms, and he would have began to squint at the adventurer if he had the ability to.

"Are you sure this is not around the horses or latrine?" Gawain chastized. "I use skeletons nearly exclusively to spare myself the sights and stench of rot. When I converted those bandits I violently excised them of all of their flesh. The only stench they may create could be from splatters of blood on their bones, if that, yet they have been bleached from standing in the sunlight or cleaned by keeping watch in the rain."

His mild rant was interrupted when Sentry asked if he could spare some time, the wizard turning on his heels to look up at the towering woman as he gave a nod. "I find that in this state that I have nothing but moments to spare." Gawain stated with a nod. "What can I do for you, Sentry?"
 
Devereaux froze on the spot, as the rather fetching young man stepped out of the darkness and into the light. It was the same man he had seen before, days prior when the group first arrived in Waterham. The one he himself had been on the lookout for since then. And of course... he brings that wretched crimson liquid. They all did.

Devereaux watched the man as he spoke, his eyes burning red in the black holes of his harlequin mask. The smell from the cup lingered, teasing his nose and appetite. But he focused more on the man's words. This 'Radoš' was the servant of the Baroness that his mother had formed a bond with. 'Best friend' was likely putting it mildly. The true closeness of that bond was a mystery to Devereaux, honestly, but he could honestly care less as long as she and her 'friends' stayed far away from him. And really... knowing that she could have so casually replaced his father with another made him quite angry.

As Radoš stopped and held the cup out before him, Devereaux eyed it before pushing it gently away. Back towards Radoš' chest. "My mother often sends others after me in attempts to convince me to return to her. And to every single individual she sends, I say no. Her friends sending servants after me will end the same way. No. I will not return to her. She can continue to speak of me, her 'dearest Colin', as much as she likes. She can wish, want, beg, cry, and scheme as much as she wants. She owes me, and my beloved father, the most sincere apology she can muster from her beautiful frame for what she has done. Until then, she continues to be... well, dead to me." said the jester, folding his arms.

"...And why do you want to know my mother's background? There's nothing special to it. She came from the same travelling troupe as my father. She was a master contortionist. Quite flexible, in all regards. What else would you want to know beyond that?"
 
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Abasi was still walking the streets searching for his friend...friend ? he then tought...it had been a while since he considered anyone that , his imposed lifestyle didnt offer space for a lot of friendships neither while beeing on the run , after a while he started to get worried...surely a jester would stand out in this town, where was he ! then suddenly his tail and ears perked up..but it was his nose that had caught something , while of course not as delicate to smell as his mothers was it was still better than a regular human's...and there it was he could smell devy's perfume , it was faint , the jester didnt overuse it but abasi had chances to smell it...closely the last few days
he turned around and started walking towards an..alley ? what was devy doing there...could it be like that time he found him behind the inn..?
 
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