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

[Roda the Red]

Even Syllannan himself did not expect the power of his spell, bandits sent flying away like a child throwing his toys. One of them seemed to die by hitting a tree, Syll wasn't happy about it but force like that couldn't be easily cotrolled. After some more impressive performances from the others, the last of the remaining bandits were dealt with, with some of them escaping.

Some cries of victory could be heard shortly after, as Syll turned around and noticed his allies were still mostly unharmed, it seems they managed to overpower the bandits without sufferig a single casualty which was a great relief for him. Syll noticed that Sera's healing prayer failed, but he appreciated the attempt nonetheless, also to Alberto, who came to protect him. "T-thanks...both of you, for coming to help me, t-they got me good it seems" said Syll right before he started coughing some blood, since that hammer blow caused him chest trauma, and he also had to hold his arm's injury with his other hand, that one hurt much more than the cut on his leg.

He rested on the spot for a minute or so, eventually deciding that he was feeling well enough to stand up and head back to the group, Alberto offered his shoulder, which the elf accepted, and carefully he was helped back to his seat on the carriage. while the pain was constant and annoying, he couldn't help feeling inspired; it seems like his theory might be right, that force wave was much better than the ones he's done before, and it probably was thanks to the sense of danger kicking in, stories of heroes obtaining newfound strength on the edge of death were not uncommon, and it was proving to be a much better teacher than tomes or meditation.

A couple more minutes passed as he noticed the hulking Sobekan approaching him, Dakarai was his name if Syll remembered correctly, and eventually started praying next to the elf.

"Pray that Her Grace provide you comfort amidst these fleeting moments."

To Syll's surprise, tears started to fall on his arm wound, followed by a few more on his leg, and miraculously the wounds started to close in a matter of seconds, not even leaving marks behind by the end of it. Not only that, but the powerful pain on his chest lessened considerably, it was not gone that was for sure, but at least he could breath normally again. "Goodness! i-i don't know what to say, thank you very much" Syll grabbed one of dakarai's large hands and shook it in appreciation.

 

[Breadman]

Her stone skin returned to it's normal flesh as Sentry dusted her palms off. Another fight, another pile of dead bodies. She did wonder exactly what this rabble could have that would be worth looting. The sword had done it's job well, but she needed to clean it. The wolf's cry made her remember another important part of her task. The boy! With her sword on her back, she hurried to the back of the caravan. A glance towards the rest revealed that Gawain was ahead in his preparations. Grizzly work, but at least skeletons don't stink to the high heavens.

"Are you both alright? How is he?" She asked Kastali in a concerned tone while looking at Callop "Did any of those malakas get anywhere close?"

 

[Fauxs]

Another opportunity arose for Callop and Fauxs to protect their companions however, his spell failed once again as an arrow that passed nearby broke his concentration. After such an exhausting battle where he couldn’t do anything, he felt dismayed by his worth. While the company was discussing their next plan of action, he couldn’t help but feel bad about himself.

Suddenly, they were surprised by a surviving bandit who attempted to aim Callop, in hopes of taking him down; however, Fauxs revealed his own power. With such loud ringing barks and a cold, glowing stare, the whole company was troubled by the atmosphere yet Callop was not able to comprehend what was happening. All he understood was Fauxs who locked eyes with the bandit suddenly lowered his weapon and dropped dead on the ground. Later on, his companion approached him with a rub on his chest to which he responded with a gentle pat on the head. “Is there something I should know, friend?” Callop asked Fauxs, despite not expecting an actual answer.

Sentry then hurryingly approached their side of the caravan, asking how they were. Callop couldn’t help but smile because of her concern for their well being. “I… I’m okay! Although, I do need more practice.” he said, while still caressing Fauxs in the head, pondering about his failed attempts.

 

[FloweryMuffin]

Korzhev perked up when he saw his curse take effect, but his scowl returned a moment later. It did not hold after all. Soon, he had no reason to worry any longer, since his fellow companions had butchered the remaining bandits. Even so, he couldn’t help the disappointment that he hadn’t managed to be of any help this time. The Gods were fickle beings, they answered prayers according to their whims. Once upon a time he might’ve believed their patron was different, he was generous, but he doubted he could hold on to that belief now. He shook his head to himself, this was not at all the time to think about that.

The frogman bent down to pat one of the dead bandits on the cheek. “Looks like you’re not having roast frog for dinner.” He had a more solemn expression now, “May the gods redeem you. If they don’t, why then rest assured your remains shall make for good compost eventually. At least then part of you would do some good.”

He stood and walked up to the other caravan members, where he announced he’ll help find any surviving bandits. Korzhev gave Gawain’s skeletons sideway glances the entire time, trying to piece his thoughts together to properly express his disapproval.

 

[Beann]

Despite putting forth her best effort with her sound magic, the current bandit situation called for a more direct approach. In the back of her mind she knew that she should have settled with her spear but she had hoped to spare the lives of a few bandits if it meant they were to be captured and imprisoned. She lifted her bell again with the intention to try one more time but noticed in her peripheral vision a figure lunging right at her. Instinctively, she leaped backwards, her tail puffed up in alarm as she realized she had barely dodged a full swing from an axe. She reached for her spear as the bandit bothered to insult her but her eyes widened as she watched him freeze over. For a moment, the chilling wind that blew over reminded her of Skæg. As unforgiving the weather may have seemed, it was still a part of who she was and made her heart ache slightly at the realization of how much she missed it. Reminding herself that her homeland was the second destination on route, she quickly pushed aside those feelings, returning her focus to the current battle.

It would seem everyone in their group were capable individuals as the number of bandits quickly dwindled. They were either killed, incapacitated, or they simply fled out of fear. Kastalli gripped at her spear as she watched Petrocoles deal with the bandit that bragged about his own Minotavur horn earlier. Flinching slightly at the sound of his skull shattering, she couldn't help but look away as the last of the bandits collapsed. Kastalli didn't expect them to encounter an obstacle like this so quickly but she was relieved that it was over and done with. She relaxed a bit as Cécilia and a few others came rushing towards the group. With the damage they dished out, she didn't expect for any bandits to return but it wouldn't hurt to have additional reinforcements.

What caught her by surprise though was that one bandit was bold enough to reveal himself. He looked badly wounded but despite that, was aiming his bow in the direction of her and Callop. Taking at least one of them with him? Had he no honor? Her eyes widened as the tip of the arrow shifted slightly to aim at the boy. She quickly turned with the intention to rush over to Callop and shield him but before she could, a piercing sound rang through the battlefield. Kastalli winced in pain as she held her hands to shield her own ears. With her sensitive hearing, the sound was almost unbearable. She looked to the source, seeing Fauxs staring at the bandit before barking a third time. With that, the bandit that threatened Callop's life collapsed dead. "A loyal companion." Kastalli murmured as she watched Fauxs return to Callop's side, nuzzling the boy's chest as if the animal didn't just single handedly bark a man to death.

She turned her attention to Gawain for a moment as she heard his order not to kill the skeletons. Skeletons? Her gaze shifted towards the two shambling sets of bones that carried familiar weapons that the bandits fought with. Kastalli had half a mind to confront the mage about his actions but Zen had already beat her to it. She tuned in quietly as Gawain explained to Zen the process of animating the corpses. Well, so long as their souls were put to rest then Kastalli couldn't really argue anything.

"Are you both alright? How is he?"

Kastalli turned back as Sentry approached the two of them (well, three if they're counting Fauxs). "I am okay as well. In Skæg, I am very much accustomed to hunting ferocious animals. Who knew we would have one fighting alongside us?" She reached a hand over to Fauxs, gently scratching behind his ear before looking at Callop. "I am no expert in fighting battles like these but I do believe you did well. Keeping calm and remaining focused is half the battle. The good news is, you can only learn and improve from your failures." Kastalli smiled as she raised her hand to rest on Callop's head, a small display of comfort and encouragement. She glanced back over to Sentry, "I am no real healer but I do know a few things about bandaging the wounded. Please watch over Callop while I aid the others." With a small bow, she excused herself, looking around to see if there were any wounded that would require her minimal skillset.

Syllannan was at the top of her list to worry about, seeing that he sustained the most damage. However, Dakarai was already by his side, tending to his wounds. Well, her friend was in better hands that way. She continued to look around and her eyes fell on Petrocoles. The Minotavur had charged into several bandits yet seemed unharmed. His horns, however, were bloodied after using them to pierce through a couple bandits. Approaching him, she dug through the pouch that was tied at her waist. "Thank you for lending your strength in battle. I was growing a bit worried having to protect Callop and Grunde by myself." She smiled as she pulled out some cloth, folding it neatly. "If you could lean over...you are a bit too tall." Kastalli reached up with the cloth in hand.

 

[Breadman]

I… I’m okay! Although, I do need more practice.

"Oh good!" Sentry sighed with relief, smiling at the boy's enthusiasm "Don't worry, you're going to get plenty of practice." She got down to one knee to get a better look at Fauxs. Just what kind of hound was he? She wondered as she scratched him under the chin.

I am okay as well. In Skæg, I am very much accustomed to hunting ferocious animals. Who knew we would have one fighting alongside us?

"Not me, sister." Sentry looked up to Kastalli.

I am no real healer but I do know a few things about bandaging the wounded. Please watch over Callop while I aid the others.

"Aye, I'll look after them." She nodded as Kastalli went off to help "Now then. How can a wolf like you make a howl like that I wonder?" She asked the Fauxs, not really expecting an answer.

 

[joshuadim]

Gsera found herself strained from the pressure of battle to properly be able to heal Syll, but nonetheless things seemed to be alright anyway as the bandits were dealt with ultimately by the rest of the group. She would have been happy to celebrate until she saw what Gawain had decided to do to their remains. Horrified by what he was conducting she marched over to Gawain angrily and pointed at him: "W-what are you doing!?" she demanded, "You're... you're defiling them! T-they might have been enemies but this is a crime against life itself!" At this point she was struggling to compose herself as she became visibly furious: "Release them, or I will."

 

[Fauxs]

Kastalli and Sentry's words were enough to give him the hope he needs. Failures can truly be shifted in to lessons when you try hard enough, and there is surely enough time for practice... Just not on the actual battlefield of course.

As Kastalli rested her hands on Callop's head and left, Sentry approached Fauxs and asked a similar question that Callop himself pondered about. "I'm... Not so sure as well. I've known Fauxs for quite a bit but... I have yet to see such an act happen. I wish I could know more but he's not really the talkative type." Callop said as he looked at Fauxs with curiosity. "Perhaps I could know him more throughout this journey, no?" He then asked as he shifted his attention to Sentry.

 

[Auda]

The winds heard Grunde's call as it rushed towards the enemies, albeit a little weaker than what the slime had in mind for there weren't enough mana to work with and the slime's nerves were still a mess from what it's previous spell did. Some of the bandits were pushed back by mere centimetres while most stood their ground, paying the gust of wind no mind as they continued the assault with more fervour than before. But in the end, Grunde's failure didn't matter as it watched the other members of the party pick up the pace and took care of the rest. It's unsettling how easy it is to take a life.

Ser Alberto deemed the situation a cause for celebration however, the tone of his voice accompanied by the sense of pride that came out of his body in waves were evidence enough. The slime didn't know what's more disturbing. The many bodies that decorated the area red, or the knight's bloodied smile and the ease to disregard someone else's life. The bandits were evil, sure, and it was either them or the party. Grunde was not so blind to not know that their deaths may be necessary. It knows how cruel people can be, it's past had enough of them to hammer the lesson inside the slime's mind. But finding some kind of joy amidst the carnage, stepping over the bodies, dragging their corpses with reckless abandon, that's something Grunde can't wrap its mind around. Though, maybe it was the odd one out in this situation. Maybe the slime was missing something important, something crucial, that will shed some kind light in the situation. Still, at the end of the day, they won and no one in the party was severely wounded, except for Syll. Grunde should be happy but it never thought that victory can ever feel... empty. It felt like the slime didn't win anything at all.

Grunde then felt Gawain's magic come to life, which is ironic because it felt like the exact opposite. Seeing the corpses, or the sorcerer's now skeletal minions, made the slime sick. Didn't they do enough damage? Luckily, Cécilia seemed to have the best timing, as her appearance helped sooth Grunde's mind. The slime didn't even notice how it automatically made it's way towards her. As if it's only natural for it to seek the woman's comfort whenever something remotely bad happens. The slime wrapped itself around one of Cécilia's legs, hoping the warmth emanating from its guardian will make it's way through the slime's body and replace the dread that settled in Grunde's stomach. Grunde felt like a child, maybe it's still one. It only dawned on the slime how stupid it was to think that it's ready for the world when it only looked at the brighter side of the fence.

 

[Dmaster]

Gawain tilted his head curiously at Sera, his hands behind his back as he was threatened by the druidic woman. He shook his head halfheartedly, seeming rather exasperated before he found the words to properly reply to her outburst. "Defilement is such an... incorrect word. I'm using their remains, yes but it's hardly defilement. Perhaps if they didn't want to become skeletal thralls they should have listened to me when I said I would do just that to them?" he asks, giving her a dismissive wave. "If you break them apart I could just raise them again. It's not terribly difficult. Perhaps I could make even more with the next casting of the spell? After all there are plenty of dead ruffians to make use of here."

 

[joshuadim]

"You're defiling the very course of nature itself, you... you... you feallac olc duine!" she then spoke, cursing at Gawain in her native tongue. "What is dead returns to the wilds, not to be some... reanimated corpse! It is foul! Evil!" It was when Gawain then threatened to make more skeletons should she dismantle the ones that he was summoned that Gsera gritted her teeth and pointed a finger straight at him, a bit of static crackling from it. "I... I'll hurt you if you don't release them!" Truth be told, it was more a bluff than anything as she abhorred actually fighting. Yet what she witnessed was making her angry to no end and perhaps she would have no choice but to act on what she thought was right.

 

[Develius]

_{- Healed Syll +4 HP}

To Syll's surprise, tears started to fall on his arm wound, followed by a few more on his leg, and miraculously the wounds started to close in a matter of seconds, not even leaving marks behind by the end of it. Not only that, but the powerful pain on his chest lessened considerably, it was not gone that was for sure, but at least he could breath normally again. "Goodness! I-I don't know what to say, thank you very much" Syll grabbed one of Dakarai's large hands and shook it in appreciation.

"Ho... Praise be Her Grace..."

A mental sigh of relief relieved Dakarai's worries once he saw his tears doing work in healing Syll's wounds. At least he can cross off the thought of Her Grace damning the entire expedition force and denying her assistance to them, for the time being that is. While they were not enough to cause miracle working affects and completely heal the man, the Sobekan fully expected this. This prayer was more designed to give fallen warriors time to relax and ensure comfort, and give them enough will-power to last till reinforcements arrive to heal them. Even if they still succumb to death, it would be better that they die a less painful end. Even a bit of healing in this case was enough to confirm his good will towards Her Grace.

Dakarai shook Syll's hand with a confirming grunt, slowly setting him back on the carriage seat. "Rest now." the Sobekan softly told him, having planted his feet back on solid ground, "The chirurgeons will take it from here."

The reptilian figure would then depart Syll's location as he attempted to look for others to heal. His attention would soon twitch towards the resident ddraig, Gsera, who scolded Gawain's reanimation of the dead and threatened to 'release them' from the undead's control. Fearing a physical outbreak, Dakarai quickly approached the two and set his scaled green hand firmly upon her shoulder.

"Heed yourself." adjured the cleric as he slowly went ahead as to separate both parties, "Let's not brush ahead so hastily."

He took the moment to let Gawain explain his side of the coin, claiming how he wasn't defiling the dead's remains. Dakarai also recalled from earlier that he, supposedly, was not utilizing their souls in the process. Still, the Sobekan glanced again upon the skeletal minions rather conflictingly before looking back at the antlered woman, who still kept strongly to her beliefs, "While I'm not fond of these skeletal servants either, I do not believe it necessary to interfere with one's own actions less they direct harm the collective conscious of our ways or those of other innocents. I believe I recalled him mentioning earlier that the souls of the dead are not utilized in the process. If it is how I think it works, this would mean that they they are not directly involved in the process... Only their empty husks, or vessels, if I understood him correctly."

"However," Dakarai would then turn to face Gawain, "I imagine most of the individuals here on the expedition - myself included - are rather uncomfortable in being flanked by a garrison of reanimated skeletons within their ranks - dirtied or cleaned. I, for one, would also find myself uncomfortable walking alongside my dead Sobekan brothers and sisters, even if their souls remain rested more so than those of other races." He paused for a moment to clear his voice. "So while I do not propose in forbidding the practice, I would strongly recommend in keeping this to a minimum for the sake of morality and sanity of the living within our expedition."

 

[Breadman]

Perhaps I could know him more throughout this journey, no?

"Long and dangerous journeys bring out the hidden side in many of us. Speaking from experience." Sentry spoke as she scratched the wolf behind the ears "Your friend may not speak, but he knows some things I think." Despite his ear splitting howl, Fauxs was rather friendly and docile when among those it has deemed friendly. That's how it seemed at least. "Let's hope any future displays of power are kinder on our ears, eh?"

 

[Dmaster]

Gawain unhinges his jaw slightly as Dakarai weighs in on the 'situation' that is developing between him and Sera. There was no problem with him raising their enemies aside from them being uncomfortable with the idea of it. The fact that Sera was starting to threaten him was a bit unexpected however, though he didn't seem the least bit intimidated. "No. I do not think I shall minimize my magic in this instance if it is all the same to you. And no, the magic is not evil in the least. It's as evil as your precious sun burning the more fair-skinned in the heat of the desert." the wizard says as he brushes the dirt from his robes. "Both of you are looking at this from the improper perspective I am afraid, your viewpoints marred by what the ignorant label as a taboo. I am sure that the others are a bit shall we say, spooked about the affair, yet that is simply because they fixate on their own feelings rather than look at this from a logical stance."

"The fact of the matter here is that we have a great many soldiers and specialists accompanying us on this expedition, and not every single one of them shall make it home. If we are to come up against a force even larger than this one we just faced, or came across some dungeon littered with traps... who would you rather take point? A man with aspirations and family, or the departed husk of a dead foe that is more than willing to do my bidding with no worries of self preservation on its simple mind?" Gawain reasons, spreading his arms as if he was preparing to bow. "I think the choice to be rather clear, do you not feel the same?" he says with a slight turn of his gaze to Sera.

"So please, grant some trust in me. Drop your preconceived notions and I shall show you that the art of necromancy is a simple school of magic like any other. My intentions are pure; disposable fodder shall prove invaluable for our mission."

 

[Emperor Sagan]

It took a moment for Petrocoles to calm himself as he stood among the several bandits he had slain, the blood dripping from his horns and onto his chest and shoulders. For once, he was glad he wasn't wearing his good tunic. He had feared his immodesty was too much, but having his clothes get ruined by gore was not a small problem. At the very least, the leather apron that was meant to shield one from rock shards when breaking marble had served him well in this regard. Like a butcher's apron.

Kneeling, he rolled the dead bandit over and plucked the minotavur horn away from the villain's possession. He cared not for his gold or trinkets or baubles - the horn was all that mattered. With care, he held it in both hands before he winced - Fauxs let loose with a ferocious bark that killed a remaining bandit in his tracks. Petro watched with some stunned surprise, his ears still ringing. It seemed that everyone was okay, even the ones who had taken a small beating. Thank the gods, or fate, or luck for that. Someone was hopefully looking over them. Or with some many different faiths, perhaps a lot of someones were looking over them.

Petro examined the horn to see if he could discern what tribe or location it may have come from. At the best convenience, he would send it back with a letter. This defilement was too cruel, too insulting to a minotavur. It was, in a way, not unlike how their own little necromancer defended his usage of those bloody skeletons. Just tools. He knew little about magic outside what the shamans taught or offered, but to see bodies moving around, even if they had no soul - it didn't seem quite right. Toss the bandits in a ditch and move on, but making use of the bodies in such a fashion seemed a little... uncomfortable.

Kastalli surprised him by approaching. "Hm? Oh... oh! Yes, ma'am," he said, bowing his head low for her to reach. "Um... thank you, ma'am. I didn't... didn't expect to make such a mess." He was still a little shaky from it all, but he hid it well, clutching the rescued horn in one hand and his hammer in the other. He had never killed before, and while he didn't feel sick or disturbed as some did, he didn't feel happy or relieved either. In fact, he just felt a little bewildered. Scared, but he didn't know of what.

 

[Roda the Red]

Despite his desire to go check on the others out of worry, Syllannan decided that it was best to heed Dakarai's advice, if only for a few minutes until he felt more rested. But peace was short as he heard Sera lashing out at Gawain, it seems like she was horrified at the necromancy at display. While Syll was indeed slightly distressed by the moving skeletons, he came to the conclusion before that the Necromancer seemed to be a decent fellow, so Syll simply shrugged off the taboo magic.

He took a few more minutes to examine the rest of the company, the others seemed completely unscathed for exception of Sentry and Alberto who also suffered from a few injuries, while he was shamefully used as a target dummy by those despicable bandits. Syll then thought to have discovered the reason: he charged to the enemy by himself without taking his allies into consideration, foolishly acting like he was still going on a solo journey. The idea of teamwork was somewhat foreign to the elf, but he had better started getting used to it, as next time things could end up worse. And not only that, he also realized that he left his more inexperienced companions alone, and if it wasn't for Kastalli, Petrocoles and Gawain's intervention, they could have gotten hurt, on that he couldn't forgive himself so easily.

Syll was feeling like his energy was coming back, so he decided to get off the carriage and walk to the cat lady and bull lad, gently waving his arm at them. "Umm, good work out there, glad to see you both safe, and the others as well for that matter" He then started scratching his neck lightly "i should've helped you all back there, i just wanted to apologize for that".

 

[Beann]

As he bowed his head, Kastalli gently started to wipe off the blood from his horns. "Please, call me Kastalli. We will be traveling together for some time so may as well get past pleasantries." She reassured him with a smile as she continued. "I do not think anyone expected to encounter such a group. You did what you could with the skills you had." By no means was Kastalli fine with bloodshed but it was necessary considering these bandits were going as far as harming a child. With a little more effort, she completely wiped all the blood off his horns. "All done! Shiny as they were before."

Her attention was pulled away when Syllannan approached the two of them, apologizing for not helping during the battle. Considering he was knocked down pretty hard during the whole ordeal, Kastalli was glad that he was safe as well. "There is no need to apologize, Syllannan!" She stepped forward, pulling him into an embrace while minding his injuries. "I am glad you are okay. I was incredibly worried when I saw you down on the ground." Pulling away from the hug, she offered a bright smile. "We have yet to travel through our homelands together, do not go getting too injured now."

 

[Roda the Red]

While Syll wasn't surprised at Kastalli's response, he did not expect her to suddenly hug him whatsoever, and neither did he expect her to say such kind words afterward. He had only met the Rakshasa for a day and a half, but he felt confident in thinking of her as a friend. "I'll..uhh...yeah, i'll be more careful from now on" was all he could say, looking away and slightly flustered.

His gaze then turned to Petro, Syll was impressed by the way the minotavur fought, the versality that a pair of built-in skewers could offer was nothing to scoff at. Petrocoles may have been a last minute addition to the expedition, but that didn't make him any less formidable.

"I've heard of your kin before, and i have to say if they all fight as vigorously as you did now, i wouldn't want to get on their bad side"

 

[Infab]

As the group talked amongst themselves, or argued about the morality of Gawain's skeletal minions, Devereaux wandered about. Checking each of the bandits to see if they were either dead or wounded. The wounded ones he would point out to the rest of the company. The dead ones, he'd squat down next to and inspect. Most of them looked like farmers that had fallen on hard times. Others, scarred up and ugly, were probably warriors that had seen far better days and were now desperate to make a living. He shook his head. Life had its ups and downs, but you shouldn't resort to making other's lives a living hell because you were in the midst of hard times.

He soon found those he had shot with his arrows, stepping over and using a small knife that he kept on his person to remove the arrows without breaking them or snapping their arrowheads off. The heads could be resharpened, the blood cleaned from both them as well as the arrow shaft. As he wiped off the blood with a small rag, he looked to where Gawain and the others were debating. Devereaux didn't see the problem in using the skeletal minions beyond the obvious moral standpoint. They were dead, their souls gone from this world. What did it matter what happened to their bodies? The body is simply a vessel for the soul, and once the soul is gone, the vessel is of no further use to them.

Then again, Devy wasn't the religious type himself. He was a man at odds with any and all gods, if they allowed everything in the past and currently to transpire. If they allowed what happened to his entire family to transpire. He eventually stood, straightening up and clutching the used arrows in one hand as he put his rag away. And soon, he returned to his cheerful self but refrained from involving himself in matters of morality. He gracefully strolled over to where Petro, Syll, and Kastalli were. "Excellent work, the three of you! You took a nasty hit there, Syll, but you took it like a champ!~" he said, before directing his attention to Petro. He seemed as though he was a bit stunned by it all. "You shouldn't worry about the apron. Blood washes out! Just takes a good scrubbing, is all."

And then he looked to Kastalli. "And you, my beautiful partner in music! Don't fret, as I'm sure you'll put that bell of yours to wondrous use in battle next time." he said cheerfully.

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Cécilia stood there in silence, as Grunde hugged her legs and held her as tight as they could. Worrying what the slime might have done, she glanced over at Alberto and made an inquisitive gesture. Alberto was quick to catch on, and then pointed at the disemboweled bodies that were near the second carriage. Cécilia quickly understood why the poor slime was so traumatized, and she quickly kneeled down to hug Grunde as best she could. "There... I promise you that next time I will not leave you alone." Cécilia tried her best to give some feeling of safety to her friend, but that was quickly interrupted by something else happening in front of the first carriage.

Having used his Necromancy to raise two skeletons from the remains of the bandits that had the audacity of hitting him, most of the party was quick to question how the sorcerer was using his powers. But Sera had taken the most offense in the matter, and for good reason. Nearly all the cultures of the Eonach Coillte saw Necromancy as one the vilest crimes that can be done to the remains of a person. The Druidic religion states that while the soul is freed from their mortal bodies once they die and join the ancestor spirits, they can be harmed and eventually destroyed if their physical bodies are corrupted by the 'Draíocht Dhorcha', or Dark Magic.

Dakarai tried to calm the situation down, but Gawain explained his reasoning to the group that had formed around him and Sera. Alberto knew that the sorcerer was capable of this. He understood the moment he laid his eyes on him. Yet it was still perturbing for the old knight to see two bloody skeletons standing there, awaiting for their masters order to get back in line. Cécilia was not sure what to think, for she saw all magic schools, including necromancy, as a useful tool that needed to be used. But as much as she disliked the various cults and churches that existed throughout Gea, she was not an atheist, and she knew that the matters of the soul were not a simple subject to touch upon.

Paulin and the other fighters that had just arrived with Cécilia, however, they were not happy at all with this sight and gave the sorcerer scornful looks as he finished explaining his stance on the matter. "Departed husk? Ya bloody bellend, that's somebody's body!" shouted one of their allied archers as he finishes up tying one of the wounded bandits. "Tool or not... the church of Gaia, blessed be her name, says that necromancy is an affront to natural life." said another member of the company, this time a one of the warriors. "I'm not a faithful of Gaia..." said a veteran warrior while eyeing the skeletons with caution. "...Nor do I care much how this creature uses its magic, live and let live I say... However, I do worry about one thing." he said before looking at Ser Alberto. "Company Captain... what reassures us, the members of this company, that we will not be used as toys by this bonehead."

Alberto looked away for a moment. He was one of the faithful of Gaia and he certainly did not appreciate this at all. But his more rational side knew that Gawain was making a bit of a point. Having these skeletons might help save the lives of the other company members. After a long and deep breath, he gave the veteran warrior a decisive look. "I understand the lot of you are unnerved by this and rightfully so... but... ultimately, Gawain makes a good point... These are the bodies of low-lives criminals and knaves. Not of innocent peasants or bandits that are regretful of their ways. These people were kil-" One fighter quickly interrupts Alberto. "Does that mean that because these people were bastards that they can be used as minions? For us Brannorians, the Skaeglins are bloody animals that come and raid whenever they see fit. But that's the way they live. I wouldn't want them to become objects for some ghoul!" said the warrior while giving Gawain a glare. "Well... that is true, but that's the path an entire culture has chosen. These men are Eranoiran outcasts... and based on the fact they prided themselves as killers of adventurers, people who often carry a lot of valuables, they had chances to stop their ways and seek a better life."

"Might I add gentlemen..." interjected Cécilia, while holding Grunde on her arms. "...I understand the concerns that you might have about the souls of these individuals and the truth is that... Well, we don't know what happens to our souls after we expire. Some believe that we become souless husks, but how does that explain entities like Wraiths or Revenants? Undead entities whose ire, hatred and wish for vengeance fuels their souls and undead bodies months after they had died?" She eyed the skeletons a bit closer. "How does powerful magics seem to vanish undead almost as if they had a soul of their own? And that is the truth. We don't know or understand the true nature of undeath... and I imagine that not even a wise sorcerer such as yourself understands it either, Gawain."

"What I'm trying to say gentlemen is that none of us have these answers, and to simply label something as unethical or ethical basing ourselves in either cold facts or religious fervor is wrong." The fighters gave each other confused looks as Cécilia get between Sera, Gawain and Dakarai. "I believe the best way to resolve this is by actual compromise... I can promise you, gentlemen, that master Gawain will not do this often and not in the presence of the majority of the company." Gawain was about to say something to Cécilia, but she gave him a cold glare. He could also hear a muffled 'laughter' from a component pouch he carried under his cloak, when he checked the pouch he could see the gem that Edgar had given him back in Eran. Of course that lich would use this gem to spy on him.

"...However, I am not barring you the opportunity to raise more of these undead minions, Gawain... Just do it in private, or in situations that require more of these beings." Cécilia then looked at the men and Sera while gently stroking Grunde's slimy form. "I do want to ask you gentlemen to not refer Gawain as a creature, as if hinting that he has no free will of his own and is simply a monster. He is a capable member of this company whose knowledge is invaluable." The fighters looked at each again, but ultimately nodded. "...As long as he don't use do it in front of us, we are fine. How does that saying go? Out of sight, out of mind?" said one of the warriors while scratching his sweaty beard. "Good! I think we must get back to work then." she added while looking down at Grunde.

As much as Alberto wanted to say something about this, it was best if he kept his thoughts to himself for now. "Aye... the scholar is right. Let's dig some graves for these fools. Even cold-hearted killers deserve a respectful resting place." Just as he finished speaking, Angelica arrived holding several shovels and some more members were trailing behind her. "Speaking of Nyarla... oi, did you get the chirurgeon lass?" he asked while side-glancing Syll. The mercenary gave the old knight a nod. "Good good... Alright everyone, lets strip these bodies of valuables, bury them, and then help the others preparing the camp."

Paulin raised his hand as Angelica handed him a shovel. "Uhm... s-ser knight, do we dig a ditch or?" Alberto shook his head, unstrapping his chest piece and resting it to the side. "Ney, like I said before... Bandits or not, they deserve a good resting place." One of the fighters quickly protested. "Bloody hell, old man, there's like 40 of these knobs!" Alberto let out a laugh, before he looked at the fighter. "Then start digging lad! If we finish early, we might get back in time for dinner!"

As the fighters reluctantly started to dig graves at the side of the road, Cécilia approached Angelica and Ser Justinius with a faint smile. "Speaking of camping... tell the others to come here. Lets prepare the tents and set everything up. I will leave it to you two who should take turns tonight as watch." Ser Justinius nodded. "As you wish my lady, but turns wouldn't be needed if we had packed some potions of awareness." As Cécilia looks away, a fighter standing behind Justinius and Angelica murmured. "...This guy and his fucking potions."

As Syll waited for the Chirurgeon to approach, he thought about something for a minute. The lack of actual civilian staff in the company, besides Cécilia and then mages she traveled with, most members of the company were adventurers and warriors. Not doctors or assistants. He pondered who the chirurgeon could be and his questions was answered rather quickly as he stared at an incredibly tall and corpulent fighter with a thick dark mustache and bald head. He was wearing a bloody apron that once used to be white and held a box with various rusted surgical tools. The man gave Syll a smile before approaching him. "Blow to the chest, aye? Lets see..." The fighter pressed his massive hand against the Hobalfar's chest, rather softly at first, before pressing it hard causing Syll a lot of pain. "Aye, broken ribs... I think at least 4! Oh lad, you'll have a very long day, I tell you that! Oi, Hamalan girl! Get me a mage that knows how to keep a lad alive!"


After inspecting the bodies of the bandits further, some of the fighters were able to find several denari and simple jewelry that would sell rather well in a city. During a small break from the digging, Alberto managed to split the gold and jewels among the party. Giving a bit more to the members who gave an upstanding performance. In terms of non-monetary loot, the bandits carried very little that could be useful to the party. A few bottles and flasks of strong spirits here and there that had been added to the pile of booze on the supply carriage.

Most of the weapons were, at best, simple in design but well made or reliable. Or they were of shoddy quality. While the main party had no use for them, some of the members of the company took a few of these weapons. They could be useful later in the adventure. Among the few exceptions in the gear of these ruffians was a ring that seems to be enchanted! It was a simple ring, but Cécilia was able to understand its effects. Anyone who wore this ring would be able to detect hidden stashes of precious materials such as gold and silver.

• RING OF BANDIT EYE •



• The Camp •
​

While the men were finishing the graves, the rest of the company set up several big tents on the other side of the road facing the cornfield. It was a long and tiring process that even needed the help of some of the members of the main company. Namely Dakarai, Petro and Sentry, who had to carry the heavier materials throughout the camp. By the time the men had finished digging up the graves for the bandits, the camp was already finished and already operational. There was a medical tent ran by the warrior with the bloody apron, and there was a small smithy run by one of the fighters. In the middle of it was a large bonfire, where most of the company was gathered around, including some of the main party. Most members of the company talked or played games such as Dvërgr Poker or arm wrestling. But several members of the company were engaged in a song that was created by one of the fighters of the company.

"It is a fine three-year travel through the wild. Heave-ho, Eranoire! Of Captain Alberto, 's never said a hard word, As we travel our troubles away. Hold fast the front, hold fast the rear. Heave-ho, Eranoire! Gaia's grace, or we'll all be skinned, As we travel down Waterhams' way"

As the company keeps singing, the two Dvërgrs in the company were busy cooking on a big pot. Making some sort of delicious smelling stew for the company. Everyone else in the company was busy making sure the camp was safe. Archers constantly patrolled its paths and made sure that no outsider threat would attack them during the night. Near the dwarves was Alberto, sitting on a tree stump while sharpening his sword and spear, shaking his head with a smile once he heard his name mentioned in the song. Just a few steps from him was Cécilia, writing down on her notebook and drawing sketches of some of the bandits that had attacked the company. Near her was Grunde, resting comfortably on their jar. Paulin was nearby as well, blushing a bit as he looked about the camp. Specifically at Dakarai, Petro and Devy.

"We've gone away long, left our loves behind. Heave-ho, Eranoire! It caused me a sorrow most unkind. While crossing down the Green Way. They say in Brannoria the luminous grows. Heave-ho, Eranoire! And so that's where our brave company goes. To make our fortunes one day."

An hour prior, it was discussed that the main party would have to stay in the same tent for the night. Cécilia explained that they didn't expect to get so many people, and that they couldn't get individual tents, but one day she hoped they might amass enough wealth in their travels to get more tents. Luckily for the main party, Cécilia decided to let them stay in the biggest tent. It was spacious, and there was enough room for everyone.

"The next day on the travel we back with cheers, Heave-ho, Eranoire! On Eran fair, we'll see our dears, And shower them with two months' pay! Hold fast the march, hold fast the paths, Heave-ho, Eranoire! If we don't wind up in dirty graves, We'll come back to Eran someday!"

Not everyone was having a jolly good time near the bonfire. Syllannan found himself clenching his fists and gritting his teeth as one of Cecilia's wizards used his magic to keep the boy both alive and conscious. He had reasons to be like this, as he glanced down to see his rib cage opened and the chirurgeon attempting to fix his broken ribs. "Heh... funny how it is eh? Some lads think that a cleric and the power of the Gods heal all wounds." Syll flinched in pain as the man used his bare hand to move the ribs away. "...And those lads are the ones that later die shitting their own body weight in blood. Clerics might heal the flesh and soothe the pain, but they can't mend bone nor can they cure a disease!" This was actually something important to learn for Syll. He also learned that wizards have a way to learn healing magic too, but it does not provide any soothing sensation to calm the pain. It indeed felt like the magics were just there to keep him alive and awake.

"Had I known that they don't heal disease... I wouldn't have wasted so much time on the church when the Ddraig's Disease attacked my woman's chest." Just as he finished speaking, Syllannan heard a loud crack as the man pushed his rib cage together. The wizard gave the doctor a sympathetic look. "Sorry for your loss then, doctor." The chirurgeon simply shrugged as he began to unbottle a red potion. "Eh, don't matter now... Still, thanks lad... Now, Syllannan? You still there? Take a swing of this..." The doctor forced Syllannan to drink a bit of the healing potion, before pouring the rest of its contents on Syllannan's open wound. It burned a lot. "There we go... Now, wizard fella, use your stronger spells to close this." Without any hesitation, the wizard closed Syllannan's wound. There were still a few scars here and there, but rather minor.

"Alright lad... here's the deal. Bones all in place and put together. Luckily for ya that blow you took didn't break more. I am sure they would have pierced a lung." The doctor then handed Syllannan another healing potion. "You'll be suffering some bearable but annoying pain for a while... Drink this potion. You'll be fine, kid. Now go on. Stew will be ready soon, I heard." The doctor patted Syllannan's shoulder before the young half-elf walked out of the tent, welcomed by the warm scene of the campsite. His companions either around or near the bonfire.

 

[Breadman]

Sentry hummed along to the songs from the campsite as she inspected her gear at the smithy. The bandits hits hurt her, but didn't damage anything she was carrying. Given that she just had the damn things fixed up, they had better be fine. The songs continued as she fixed a few things here and there for some of the fighters. Odd that some of them pride themselves so much, but set out with such a state, but that's warriors for you. Boast a lot, but upkeep not. No one asked for any engravings which was likely for the best as materials were a bit short currently and she wasn't so sure she could concentrate with all the singing.

After finishing a few of the requests, she decided she needed some rest. She stretched her aching muscles as she walked around the campsite. The day was long, but it was coming to an end soon. The smell of the Dvërg pot was enticing and made her wonder closer to the campfire. The sound of two dwarfs grunting as their arms were locked in competition drew her even closer. One of the competitors recognized her and she did him as they already woke up in the same bed the night prior. The sight was apparently enough for him to push harder and slam the arm of his opponent down with a loud thud. The winner let out a triumphant roar which prompted her to clap in recognition of his hard won victory. Before he could say anything he was pulled away by the others on some business of theirs. The barbarian would have to just wave him off with a smile for now.

Wondering further along the camp, she noticed a rather large familiar sight. It was hard to miss the huge frame of the minotavur even at this distance. She stopped for a second, wondering what to do. So far their only interaction was carrying the heavy equipment of the camp, but that was nothing. Then the words of Devy and Dakarai came up in her mind. This was something she needed to overcome. The barbarian sighed and walked over to Petro while thinking what to say.

"Ahh...hey there." She finally said something "I don't think we actually introduced ourselves." She extended a hand "My name is Sentry."

 

[Ace Cream]

Zen

Zen spent his time helping the company taking care of the dead bodies. It was a lot of effort to bury all 40-ish corpses but at least he had a piece of mind as he finally let out a brief prayer in front of their graves. Later he was given a normal looking ring by Cecilia, which she said to be able to detect treasure? Zen didn't have much experience with this kind of magical trinkets so he couldn't tell the difference between this and regular ring, still he took the ring and slided it into his finger, which actually just a set of skinny talons hidden under thick gloves.

When the camp was finally set up, Zen was thinking to get some air by walking around alone, but an activity caught his attention. Several of the expedition members were playing the Dvergr Poker! Zen didn't like gambling but he loves card games, he even won several karuta tournaments back in Shigese. He joined the game as showed an overly serious expression as he drew his hand.

 

[Dmaster]

Gawain was not all that surprised that his actions were garnering misplaced ire from those in the company, shaking his head about solemnly for all of the perspectives clouded by ignorance. There was plenty of things that were unnerving about their day to day lives, soldiers that make a living off of killing others did not have much of a moral high ground to stand on. After all there would be less dead for him to raise if there was no fighting to be had at all, but that simply wasn't the world they were living in.

What was actually surprising to the skeletal mage was the words of both Alberto and Cécilia, both company leaders sticking up for him in their own words even as their subordinates continued to bemoan his practice of necromancy. As he moved to speak he could hear the muffled laughter of Edgar in his spell component pouch, his jaw unhinging a touch in thought before he gave a nod to Cécilia. It was true what the scholar had said about the nature of undeath being mostly a mystery, for even his understanding of how it worked could be labeled as mere speculation. This prompted him to agree with her standpoint on the matter. "I thank you. Both of you! You can rest assured that I will do it in situations where there is good reason for it. I am an agreeable company member, not some mindless zombie like others wish to perceive me as." Gawain commented before starting to head for the camp.

As he did so, he did pick up on more than a few soldiers complaining about digging graves and could not help but be cheeky. "Had you let me cast my spells there would be much less digging to be done!" he shouted from over his shoulder, barely holding back a cackle.

The day turned to night and the wizard sat about the bonfire quietly with the others, though he wasn't enjoying the warmth of the fire in a particularly orthodox manner. Sleeve rolled up and his hand outstretched, he seemed to be casually weaving the flames around his extremely pale hand and forearm, moving his limb in and out of the inferno as he used magic to shape the licks of fire into various swirls. He was being rather careless, in that if he were mortal still this would be burning his arm a great deal, and yet his undead form did not even register the stinging pain that should be striking him currently.

 

[joshuadim]

To say Gsera was disappointed would be an understatement, as she couldn't believe as to what she was hearing from the company's leaders. Although the decision was made to allow the skeletal thralls to remain it did nothing but make her fume in silence as night fell. She did not join the group at the fire, as she had other plans in mind. If neither Alberto nor Cecilia would take action, then she would do so in her own hands. She looked around the camp for the same soldiers that had objected to the necromancy and had helped take her side in these matters. It took some time as she wandered through the camp to see if she could recognize one of the faces before finding them sitting near a fire of their own on the outskirts of the camp. Gathering her courage she confidently walked over and waved over to them: "Hello!" she said aloud to the soldiers as she approached, "I... I wanted to thank you for taking my side earlier."

 

[Roda the Red]

So despite feeling well for the most part, it turned out that some of his ribs were broken, and it was right after aquiring this knowledge that a new wave of pain surge from him, fortunately the caravan was quick to set up a tent and get to work on this, though if he knew enough about chirurgeons, he had a general idea that he wasn't going to like what was coming next.

Enjoyable would be the last word Syllannan would come up with when thinking of the procedure to fix his ribs, the feeling of having a part of his chest exposed and a man toying with his bones was excrutiatingly painfull and very unsettling. By the end of it he had mixed feelings of constant pain and nausea, yet at least he was fixed just leaving a tiny cut scar in the process. He put shirt back on but refrained from wearing his jacket and cloak and also undid his braid, he needed to relax after that.

A sense of relief came from walking out of the chirurgeon's tent, a place where hopefully he wouldn't have to visit again anytime soon. He took a bit of a stroll around the tents, the songs were lively and there were games and chatting aplenty... if only he didn't feel like shit , Syll would probably join one of the groups. But right now all he wanted to do was to find a comfortable place to sit down and stay comfortable. Ultimately he found a good-looking spot near one of the bonfires and sat down, trying his best to distract his mind while watching the flames burn brightly, with embers rising high before fading away.