Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[Hopeflower]

"At the bottom of several, in fact," Rowan answered. "I blame Nick and Dante."

'Can't blame me if you get tackled when I'm not with you,' Arsenic protested faintly, as though he was already halfway to falling asleep again.

Rowan hummed, smoothing his hair away from his face. "No, but I can blame you for your elbow ending up digging into my spine."

He growled softly. 'Wasn't my fault. Dante threw me that time.'

Vix covered her face in an attempt to keep her giggles quiet.

[The Kingpin]

"Note to self: Dante throws people when irritated," responded the Knight to that, amused despite himself, before taking what he later decided was a slightly too-large bite out of his next wrap.

[Hopeflower]

'Mm, no. I was a particularly annoying kid, that day.' A snort. 'Guess Rowan was, too, if Dante decided she needed to be buried in people.'

"That was the aftermath of our first argument about bows and swords, actually," Rowan put in, gently scraping her nails along Arsenic's scalp to get him to settle again.

He leaned into her touch, the corners of his mouth curling into a tiny, soft smile. 'Explains it.'

[The Kingpin]

"So he'd bury a person alive for disagreeing with him? Remind me...not to get on his bad side," responded the Knight jokingly, his comment interrupted halfway by a yawn.

[Hopeflower]

"Well, when you've had a kid pestering you for archery lessons just after a discussion devolved into a shouting match, I imagine it's a fair response." Rowan eyed Andruil for a moment. She set her book aside with a glance at the page number and extended her newly free arm to beckon him closer, adding, "I meant it. C'mere. Don't make me ask in song."

'She'll do it,' Arsenic put in helpfully.

With a fond and somewhat resigned smile, Vix made quick work of clearing the bed of her notes and setting them out of the way, so they wouldn't get kicked all over the place. Somehow, she'd managed to forget how thoroughly Rowan committed to lazy days.

[The Kingpin]

Andruil couldn't help a small smile, at that. "Want me to start calling you 'Auntie Rowan', too?" he asked teasingly as he took another bite out of what must have been...his third or fourth 'shvarba'. He had lost count at this point.

[Turbo Tyrannophonic]

~Long time ago, when a man used to care, something concluded~

A crash. The sound erupted in the forest like a fallen tree, and struck the ground with many times the impact. The cause - a monstrous, reptilian limb - narrowly missed its target - a tall, yet comparatively small man that was now perched upon it in a handstand.

"Not bad, for something so big," the man commented, launching himself into the air with a grunt. As he righted himself, the armored being struck out with a leg, connecting with the dragon's arm with a thunderous noise. Despite the obvious difference in size and weight, the limb slid violently in the direction it was kicked, causing the dragon himself to stumble in surprise in a flurry of displaced earth and foliage.

As the man landed in a crouch, Hex lashed out in the opposite direction with a savage backhand. The dragon's clawed limb - as thick as a tree trunk - was caught unceremoniously between the man's side and arm.

With another grunt, the man swung the entirety of Hex's body around in a semi-circle before hurling him high above his head. The dragon smashed through the treetops in a cacophony of noise, struggling to right himself from the momentum alone. As his wings splayed out and he regained his composure, he found himself face to face with the enemy who had moments ago been fifty feet below on the forest path.

The dragon roared, thrusting both wings forward with all his might. The movement sent him drifting away from his opponent, who was, in turn, thrown back by the gust. Hex let himself fall back into the forest some distance from where he had started, finding his companion waiting for him in a confused and addled daze.

"I thought I told you to get out of here!" Hex snarled, abandoning their usual telepathic communication.

"I can't leave you - "

"There's no time!" the dragon cut in, pushing Grama back down the path with an outstretched claw. As he took up position in front of her, the man emerged once more from the foliage ahead of them, looking no worse for wear.

"I see now you are both capable of speech," he commented, brushing off his armor. "Now why is it that you refuse to listen to me? I've been nothing but courteous."

This only seemed to add to Hex's anger. With a howl and a blazing surge of energy, the dragon transformed once again; his ashen fur and scales became a brilliant gold, and his entire body was enveloped in a fiery aura - a sight not seen for many years.

"Ohhh," the man reacted, his surprise genuine. "That's a little more like it."

Hex launched himself forward with speed that belied his size, closing the distance between the two in moments. The dragon struck at his opponent in the manner he had done before, gouging a trench into the ground in the process as the man nimbly moved out of the way. The attack was followed with another, and another, and another; every strike was avoided, but every avoidance was followed with yet another attack. The two quickly began moving down the path away from Grama, tearing apart the dirt road and surrounding foliage as they went.

As yet another strike was sent crashing into the dirt, Hex shifted forward, putting all his weight onto the embedded limb as he swung his body around. The erratic movement caught his enemy by surprise and the dragon's tail crashed into his abdomen, throwing him back and off the path. The man righted himself after traveling a distance, in time to put his feet against the base of a tree. Redirecting his momentum with a spring, the man shot back onto the path just as Hex turned to face him. An outstretched gauntlet collided with the side of the dragon's head with a monstrous crash, sending ripples across both his furred hide and the aura that surrounded him. A moment later, the dragon was sent soaring off the path, just as his enemy had done, but without the nimble recovery; entire trees were brought low as the golden beast gradually slowed to a halt.

The man landed on his feet long before his enemy came to its violent halt. He looked after where the dragon went, the beast traveling such a distance and carrying with it so much debris that it was no longer visible from where he was standing.

What came out from the path of destruction was anything but a dragon. Prompted only moments prior by a sudden change in lighting, a ruinous beam of pure, golden energy exploded out from the hole in the foliage, incinerating everything that it touched. The man had but a split second to cross his arms before the light spilled over him, engulfing him utterly as it traveled onward into the forest on the other side. As it carved into the greenery, it met its end in a thunderous explosion, clearing out a section of forest with a torrent of smoke and flames.

The dragon emerged shortly after, his golden aura undulating as he watched the destruction unfold. The man was no longer on the path, but where, exactly, he had gone was not yet clear. It was possible that he had been completely destroyed by the attack, but somehow the dragon doubted it.

As if on cue, a shape darted from treetop to treetop before landing back on the path - particularly, in the charred, blackened path of the beam. The man's gauntlets were visibly singed, and the plume coming from his head was noticeably shorter now, but otherwise he remained whole.

"Could be better, could be worse." The man shrugged.

That was enough for Hex. Although it was not something he was accustomed to yet, desperate times called for desperate measures.

Baring his teeth, the dragon's aura flared, its movements becoming more violent. The energy collected around the dragon's frame steadily became more unstable as it grew in size, becoming brighter in the process. Loose debris began to tremble around him as he concentrated, as if the draconic beast had become the epicenter of his own earthquake. Just as the display reached its apex, Hex roared - the aura flared blindingly bright, then subsided and stabilized.

What remained was something akin to what he had demonstrated before, but also something far more violent and unstable. The aura retained the aggressive motions of the power-up, but gained with it sparks of blue lightning, demonstrating just how raw and unruly the energy was. The dragon's fur stood up even straighter than before, growing in length by a considerable degree, though its rigid nature made it look almost crystalline. The dragon's expression was that of fierce determination - a fair magnitude more intense than his previous state.

"Huh," the man commented, tilting his head. "Impressive."

Hex seemed to disappear for a moment, moving with such speed that completely betrayed one's eyes. The dragon sent his enemy into the air with a blow, delivered another to his abdomen, and sent him careening back to the earth in but a moment. Hex did not let up as the man impacted the ground, driving his clawed fists into his body with a roar, tearing apart the earth in his way and deepening the crater with impunity. The man appeared to be at his mercy as the onslaught continued, until one of the dragon's claws were caught in the armored being's grasp. This fact alone brought his assault to a close, as he attempted to pull free and failed.

Pulling the limb down and pushing himself up simultaneously, the man struck out with his other hand, delivering a solid blow to the dragon's chest. The attack hit with such magnitude that there was a notable delay before the dragon's body reacted, erupting from the hole like a bolt from a crossbow. The man himself followed closely behind, twisting around to deliver a kick to the beast's underside.

Reacting quickly, and having not yet fully recovered, Hex crossed his massive arms and sustained the blow - the momentum of which completely redirected his body, sending him falling back towards the forest.

With a surge of energy and the spreading of his wings, Hex righted himself and began to regain control, only to discover that, once again, his enemy had not yet left his presence. The man's fist collided with Hex's chest the moment he thought to counter, forcing the breath from his lungs in a violent gasp. The man followed with another jab, the dragon's face contorting as a rib audibly cracked. As the dragon struggled to recover, the armored being swung his leg above his head and brought it down upon the beast's back, sending him helplessly careening into the forest below.

Hex's descent was uncontrollable, and he met the earth with a monstrous crash, clearing yet another part of the forest and forming a crater beneath him. In spite of his turbulent arrival, Hex immediately struggled to his feet. More than just his life was at stake. The fight felt hopeless, but he could not give up now. The dragon clenched his teeth, his aura flaring up once again. Just as the energy around him reached a new intensity, it suddenly and unceremoniously disappeared, dispersing with a flash. Hex, his limit long since reached, collapsed shortly after.

"A valiant effort to be sure. I'd say it makes it into the top 15, at least."

The man was perched on a tree branch adjacent to the crater his opponent lay in, looking and sounding indifferent despite the intensity of his counterattack. A moment later, Grama emerged from the foliage, rushing into the crater to aid her companion.

"Hex, are you alright?" the girl retained her unusually calm attitude, but with a notable tinge of worry and fear within it. "Please, say something."

"He ought to be fine," the man replied instead, appearing within the crater to the girl's side. "Probably. It was a rough lesson, but he seems tough enough to survive it."

Grama looked up from her draconic companion, staring into the man's eyeless helmet. After a moment's hesitation, she stood from her crouch at the dragon's side and faced the armored being.

"Woah, woah, woah," he responded, putting his hands up. "I told you, I'm not here to fight. Your friend got a little too carried away, but it doesn't have to be like that." The man looked away for a moment, adding, "Plus, I think you might be even more of a handful than he was..."

"What do you want from us?" Grama replied, her gaze and voice stern, demanding. Again, the added emotion was off-putting, but genuine.

"I can assume you don't know anything about what I talked about at the start of all of this," the man commented, mostly to himself. Looking back at the girl, he continued, "My name is Morialus. I've come from a faraway land to find the one who brought salvation to Tyrbenetus. The one called Desrium."

[Hopeflower]

"Only if you want to start putting up with the **** Nick's used to," Rowan said, offering a smile that was razor-sharp at the edges. "Either way, you might as well accept that you're family, kid." She didn't lower her arm, waiting patiently for the moment when Andruil's priorities switched over from food to rest.

[The Kingpin]

The statement was a warming one, that lifted the Knight's spirits after a couple of rough days. "I wouldn't have it any other way," responded Andruil with a tired, if characteristically lopsided grin. Reluctantly, the Knight conceded to the Assassin's demands, finishing off his share of the meal and brushing what little flour was on the wrap off his finger. It was fairly tidy, as far as meals went, he noted as he began to inch his way up the bed until he finally was resting where Rowan apparently wanted him to. "I think we could just about spare room for one more, if you're interested, Vix," he offered once his head was actually horizontal and in a position where he could actually sleep.

[Hopeflower]

The innkeeper's expression softened further, until she looked almost overwhelmed with affection. "I'd be a fool if I wasn't." Carefully, she eased herself forward until she could sprawl out beside Arsenic. By all logic, four people squeezed into one bed shouldn't have been comfortable, but they made it work with some readjusting of limbs.

Family, Vix echoed internally. Yes, that's right.

Rowan's arm settled around Andruil, a warm and solid weight that was no less reassuring for the fact that it was all firm muscle. Her thumb found his shoulder and started tracing a familiar soothing, circular pattern. Once they were all comfortable, she began humming her aunt's lullaby again, low and quiet. Rowan couldn't offer her aid in making Arsenic or Shiryaz well again, but this much she could do. She could be one of the constants in a time of uncertainty, just as she'd always tried to be.

And maybe - just maybe - she could help to keep the nightmares away in her own way.

[C S]

At a clearing spotted from atop the foothills, the moment of truth was upon the two. Desrium spent the day prior learning the extent of his abilities. It was up to Evisa to run him through his paces.

The treeline was tangled at its edge with fallen branches, tiny limbs locking together to make for some impassible terrain. The sun was directly over the opening in the canopy, and the ground glistened from ice crystals and the slick layer of water at the surface, where some melt was taking place. The snow on the ground here was mostly undisturbed. Animal tracks were preserved across it, and those of the armored being and his viking sparring partner were just added to the prints.

They had entered their meeting ground from opposite sides of the clearing, for that dueling effect. Evisa parted the blockade of timbers with swift, burning punches and kicks. Desrium, in his approach, walked forwards and the obstructions collapsed around him in a staccato of snapping wood.

Once they were out of the trees, they walked across the snowy open and met in the middle.

Desrium did not really care for the involved formalities. As long as innocent life was out of harm's way, and needless damage was mitigated as much as possible, this spar could have happened anywhere at any time. Evisa, truehearted viking that she was, was very much the same, perhaps with less consideration for property damage in relation to the preservation of life. Nevertheless, she insisted that things had to be this way.

"To be completely straight with you, I can't say I was too pleased with the results of our last match. Despite everything," Evisa told Desrium, doing the last of her stretches. She arched her spine to either side of her, as if she were reaching for the sun to boost her ability in the coming fight. "It's not becoming of a viking, or the Lady of Light for that matter, to lose because of a miscalculation of battle pacing."

Desrium heard this with his usual sense of impassiveness, not moving at all. Evisa took it to mean he was just waiting for her to finish up, so she turned on her heels and prepared to take the customary paces away before they engaged one another.

"Do you mean to defeat me, this time?" Desrium asked, taking her by surprise. She looked over her shoulder and saw that he was still frozen in place. What would have been an insult a little over a month ago simply made Evisa chuckle now. "You're that worried about hurting me, hmm? I don't suppose a limping den mother is any more becoming of a viking, either."

"I'll need to do some more growing, some more training and break a lot more of my limits before I can claim I can best you without making a fool of myself," Evisa replied, "but I'm here today to test you, and I intend to give you a worthy test."

Desrium ruminated on her words, then bowed his helm. "Very well. I am relieved."

"It's just as much a test for me, too," Evisa added, wagging a finger. "What you show me today will show me how much I need to raise the bar for my own strength. No going easy on me. Show me everything you've learned in your training."

Desrium nodded his agreement.

"Now, let's take our places, shall we?"

Desrium turned and walked. Evisa looked straight and walked.

They stopped no more than ten feet away from one another. Desrium pulled the Fang from its resting place and held it in front of him. Evisa assumed a wide Ourn-tae stance. One fist was held out in front of her, while the other was closer to her waist.

Golden light flashed around her hands and feet. Equally as abrupt was her ensuing charge. Evisa dropped from her stance, almost landing on one knee, and drove forwards on her pumping legs, her head and spine aligned with Desrium's midsection. It was a sight to stop a man's heart cold: being rammed by a viking with a bladed helmet.

Desrium threw his weight onto one foot and swerved out of the way. Evisa's feet created minor shockwaves when they slammed down on the earth, blasting snow into the air, which promptly burst into steamy wafts from the heat she radiated. Conditions were not right for her more iconic blazing trail, but seeing the Lady of Light race a mist of her own creation was still quite something to behold. It was when this mist overtook Desrium that Evisa dropped once more, one hand bracing against the ground to drive her momentum into it. The force imparted into the earthen floor made the permafrost heave, and there was a rush of air that accompanied the crumpling, cold soil to give the impression that Leyuna had been winded by the blow.

The steam was blown away. A fraction of a second later and Evisa's foot was carving through the air, whooshing towards Desrium's helm. He leaned to one side to evade, and Evisa was carried with the motion, snapping upright and onto her other foot. She spun on her heel and brought the kick in for another impact, which Desrium avoided by taking a step back.

"If in practicing restraint, he means not using the sword at all, he's doing pretty well from where I'm standing!" Evisa kept her pressure up. She advanced for every time Desrium retreated and did not let him out of reach of her fists, for which there were many punches sent his way.

Desrium knew he couldn't dodge these blows. It was at this stage in combat that he brought his sword into play, which surprised Evisa at first. Her glowing fist was on a true course with the Stalwart's armored chest and her knuckles slammed into the metal of his blade instead after its speedy repositioning. The attacks and counterattacks were faster than the blink of an eye! Evisa's arms and legs were blurs as she punched, spun and kicked, true to her word that she was the only one in Brodudika who could match Desrium's speed. If only for a little while.

Desrium had angled the Fang each time so that Evisa hit the broadside in such a way as to deflect her strikes, the sword pointed towards the ground with its curve facing towards Evisa and the teeth facing away from her, so that she was not in any danger of being injured. The blade glowed with heat in much the same way Desrium's armor would, had the viking struck true all those times. It did not billow into steam for it, however. It was only Desrium's body that chilled on contact.

Evisa thought it a mad tactic at all to block any blow with a sword in the first place. Especially against her. That was just asking for some shattered steel. But Desrium was not any plain steel, and neither was his sword. It did not bend, nor did it break from her onslaught. Not even the smallest crack or chip. She felt slight vibrations running through its structure with each consecutive block but overall, the Blood Dragon's Fang remained rigid. Any other sword of similar build would have been rendered a wriggling mess of metal, either jumping out of its wielder's grasp or snapping in the heat of the battle. Yet another confounding thing about Desrium to come to terms with.

The viking skidded to a halt in the snow, which promptly melted and boiled away in her presence. She eyed Desrium across the way through her helm, breathing strong, steady breaths to regain her composure. "Impressive work," she said to the armored being, who remained on guard, as he should. "You know a thing or two about hand-to-hand, but you really come into your own with that sword. That blocking technique of yours is pretty solid."

The glow traveled down the entirety of the jagged edged sword. Its blue tint was replaced with an iridescent orange, with a core of white. Desrium used the lull in the sparring to spin the Fang about in his hands, its rapid passage through the air drawing the heat from its composition. After a few revolutions that created an audible buffeting, it was sufficiently cooled to regain its usual appearance. Desrium held it at the ready in front of him afterwards.

"You must have practiced that for quite some time."

"This is the first time I've attempted it."

Evisa sagged forwards. "Really?"

"I now know I could do things with the Fang that I would never have attempted before. In technique, as well as its other qualities."

Evisa humphed. She supposed this was part and parcel with this whole endeavor. Desrium was breaking his own boundaries, and she was seeing just how extraordinary this unassuming metal man was. If the idea wasn't so ridiculous, she might have actually pitied the demons that came before him in the past. With a small chuckle at that tiny silliness, she raised her fists and juggled her self in between hopping from foot to foot.

"At the very least, I won't be doubting your footwork, but I came out here today to see more of your surprises! Let's put my light against your shadows then, shall we?"

Desrium nodded. There was no need to reaffirm his ability as a blademaster. He had to ascertain whether or not he was worthy of the Fang's more exotic capabilities, if he could be trusted to bear the responsibility of using them when the situation called for it, and in the course of doing so, handle them with wisdom and care. This was where the danger to Evisa lied: if he wasn't worthy and found the power too intoxicating to control...

"It is a great honor to be able to claim that I have known you, Evisa. It is an even greater honor to be able to call you an ally." She really was putting her neck on the line, whether she was fully aware of it or not. Desrium could not ask her to back down now, so his only recourse was making sure he had said everything he needed to in the event that the worst came to pass.

"Oh, enough of that. I've got a bunch of babies to live for; and if we discover that my time on this here plane expires on this day, then feel no sorrow for me." Desrium could envision the smile hidden behind her helmet. "An honorable death and a proper funeral at sea, carried out by my vaughrediin brethren is all I can wish for, if that is to be."

"Alright." Desrium paused. "I will take you back to Vanguard myself, in that case."

"And I will enter Ulfbertdsill with pride, yet not any time soon if I have any say in things." Evisa thumped her chest and hunkered down for the spar to resume. "I've got to see that harbor built, after all!"

With that, Desrium held his sword out to one side, and it was coated in void. Evisa's whole body was covered in a layer of golden light in response. The umbral wings draped over the Stalwart's shoulder, and rippling waves of heat radiated outwards from Evisa. The snow disappeared with an hissing ambiance.

When she moved, Evisa brought tidings of an early summer upon Desrium. The atmosphere was excited by her heat, a meeting of hot air rapidly mingling with cold. It meant that when Evisa threw her flurry of punches, there was practically a thunderstorm's gale circulating around her and Desrium, the wind and her fists wailing on the armored being. The gusts were hot, Evisa herself was searing. No longer was snow on the ground. Through the trees, across the distance, city guards stationed at the ramparts of frost the Stormweaver had devised could see a twinkling in the woods where the Lady of Light did battle with the Stalwart Paladin.

What a battle it was, for just a sparring match.

Evisa twisted her body as she hurtled down from above, the back of her heel coming down on the broadside of a blade made entirely out of shadow, held over Desrium's helm. It swallowed the light she exuded and repelled her when Desrium swung it about, throwing her into a midair flip.

A blast of light and heat forced Desrium into a half-kneel and sent Evisa rocketing in the opposite direction. She thudded down onto the earth yards away, and not a moment later she was racing back to the armored being, one fist cocked and ready to swing.

Desrium evaded the punch, but took the elbow to the side of the helmet when Evisa reversed it on him, which threw off his balance and had the rest of his metal body staggering in kind. Evisa turned and threw her other hand out, which Desrium blocked by crossing the Fang and its Shadow.

After planting his feet firmly on the ground, he pushed against Evisa and sent her backwards in kind. It would have been an opening to lunge in and potentially finish off the viking while she was recovering, but Desrium did not take it. He was in control, and he was acting purely out of defense. That was all fine and well for Evisa, who thoroughly relished playing the offensive role in the match.

Evisa dropped into a sprinter's stance and then dashed, alternating her angle of attack from side to side. Desrium held his swords apart to cover both ranges and panned his gaze to track Evisa's darting approach.

She sprung at him and Desrium's ethereal wings stroked as he leaped backwards, putting space between him and Evisa's whirlwind kicks, which she used to spring into the air once more after a momentary landing. Her front flip closed in on Desrium, and she came out of it with her fists cupped together. They slammed on the shadowy sword and Evisa was bunted off by it.

She spun the other way before she landed on her toes in a crouch, and then the Lady of Light lurched forwards, using her hands as a foundation on the ground to swing her legs about in order to sweep Desrium's out from underneath him.

After another jump aided by the wings of eclipse, Desrium and Evisa effectively switched positions in their improvised arena. He landed where she had attacked from, and she dug her boots in where he had just been standing.

Evisa rose to her feet already primed to sprint at Desrium, and she was upon him split-seconds later. He did not have a sword in place to block her next strike.

Rather, Desrium had the Fang held low in a reverse grip at the moment she drew nearest in her attack. In the next instant, it's pommel was driven into her abdomen.

Instead of knocking Desrium off of his heavy boots, Evisa crumpled into him. His armor reacted to her heat, and she soon stumbled backwards out of the ensuing mist. Evisa put her hands on her knees and struggled for breath, her golden light dimming until it and its heat faded.

"Are you alright?" Desrium asked her. Evisa gave a thumbs up.

"Yeah," she rasped, "I'll be good. Got a bit too caught up in the moment." She chuckled weakly. "I'd say you don't have to stress out about whether or not you have enough restraint. If anyone needs to work on that, it's me."

Desrium let that sink in with a measure of relief. He rejoined the Shadow of the Fang with the void-coated blade, and then rescinded those shadows to where they resided within the jagged edged sword.

"I prefer this to burning out by a longshot," Evisa added, then coughed.

After Evisa recuperated, she and Desrium walked through the winter forest back towards Brodudika. Along the way, the viking's curiosity over the constitution of Desrium's armor and the Fang nagged at her until she finally asked about it.

"So are you... blessed by the Grace?"

Desrium looked to her. He did not know how to answer that question. Desrium's silence went on for a bit too long for the viking's liking, and she hummed thoughtfully.

"I don't mean to be crude, or insulting. That's not it at all."

"I did not believe you were," Desrium responded, "However, I do not feel that I can comment on the whims of a divine. I have been fortunate, and I am grateful. I cannot claim to be blessed."

"Mm. So... you're just naturally indestructible?"

"It is a side effect."

"Of?"

Desrium mulled over telling Evisa this story. It would be a hefty affair, far more involved than the tale of the True Blood Omen. In the end, his decision hinged on the fact that Evisa was not Septimus. There were things she was not going to understand, and things he could not explain.

"Ambition."

Evisa cocked her head at that, but saw it fit not to pry further. "I need to be more ambitious, then."

After a moment's silence, she broached, "Can I hold the Fang?"

"Hold?" Desrium wondered.

"It's a peculiar design as far as swords go, but it isn't like any other sword. And I don't even mean the shadow thing."

"I suppose not," the armored being replied as he drew the toothed blade. He turned it over in his grasp and held its hilt out for Evisa to take.

She reached out for it, and Desrium released it into her hands.

"OH WHAT--" It was like she was handed the mother of all anchors. And Evisa had lifted plenty of anchors as part of her training days to become Novarah, so this was a pretty intense experience, for sure. She stumbled a few steps, and strained to keep the blade from dragging through the underbrush. "A sword is not supposed to be this heavy."

Little by little, Evisa lifted it and braced the sword over a shoulder. She then turned her sights to Desrium. She had an expectant look underneath the helmet, wanting answers. Desrium could not see it, though.

"It is light in my possession, and as you know, Septimus carried it for me until my return to Aster."

"Septimus is a dragon," Evisa countered indignantly. "And you... you're something else. You can take this back before I dislocate something."

Desrium took the sword back and Evisa let out a heavy sigh. She'd have to do a few more stretches to fully get over that moment of being over encumbered. The Stalwart, as usual, had no problems at all maneuvering his sword and sheathing it.

[The Kingpin]

"Ow! Behave, Shiryaz!" chastised Andruil lightly as he held a strip of chicken breast for the bird, having been nipped by the raptor's sharp beak. Despite his words, he couldn't help but smile.

The griffinhawk had been released to him late the previous evening, having recovered sufficiently to be taken home. Almost as soon as the raptor had the energy to move around, he started pestering the Knight for food.

So it was food that he received.

Feeding the bird of prey was a messy affair, and Andruil had specifically put on one of the tattered coats he used as a disguise, in order to keep the mess and the stench off his clothes. Despite it all however, there was no denying the joy the Knight felt as he saw a much stronger, more energetic Shiryaz nipping the strips of chicken out of his hands. The raptor was not able to fly yet, attempts to do so typically ending in him slowly dropping to the ground, but the fact he could stand, even if he could not hold his head high just yet, was encouraging.

[Hopeflower]

With the edges of his bruises already fading to a sickly yellow-green and his balance vastly improved, Arsenic was also well on the road to recovery. He wouldn't be winning any races yet, as evidenced by the fact that his knees were still an angry violet at their darkest and quite sore, but he was moving a little easier than the day before. And with his improvement, the protective streak that had surfaced in Rowan started to fade.

Of course, it didn't stop her from reaching out to put her hand on his arm or shoulder now and then. It was less an impulse to make sure he was alright and more that Rowan needed to reassure herself that he wasn't about to keel over. She was still finding it hard to shake off the way he'd just dropped, too suddenly for it to be exhaustion. And with her being nowhere near close enough to be of any help.

It might have spared her the same fate, but it was just one more reason why she could never commit to being an archer. An archer was too far away to stop blood pumping from a friend's wounds, too far away to block the blade aimed for their back, too far -

Arsenic set his hand over Rowan's and squeezed to get her attention. 'Breathe, Rowan.'

"Oh - sorry, did I...?" She shook her head to get rid of the clinging memories. "You'd think I wouldn't be spacing out with how much sleep we all got yesterday," she muttered.

His laugh was warm and familiar, and he nudged her with his elbow. 'You'd think.'

Vix joined them, carrying a few mugs of tea, and set one in front of each of them. "She's earned the right, what with all of the history books she's been helping me read," she teased, apparently having caught the tail end of their exchange.

Rowan barked a laugh. "Maybe. But if there's one thing I've learned well, it's that I should always be on my guard. If only for the fact that Nick's always getting in some form of trouble."

'We're hardly going to end up in danger at the breakfast table,' Arsenic replied, some bite to the words.

She just looked at him, arching an eyebrow and slowly tilting her head.

He rolled his eyes. 'It was one time.'

[The Kingpin]

"Danger for breakfast? I am intrigued," called Andruil from the kitchen, a twitter coming from the griffinhawk on his arm between helpings of chicken. The raptor had his wings splayed in such a way that they were wrapped around his head, so he wasn't exactly in a position to look through the doorway while he spoke to the others. That did not muffle the sound however, and he saw it as perfectly permissible for the bird of prey to feed as he did.

[Hopeflower]

'Of course you are,' Arsenic sighed, as close to an audible eye roll as one could get. 'It happened during one of the jobs I worked with Rowan.'

Rowan snickered. "You have to admit, it was funny."

'Which part, getting kicked across a table or the fact that I looked about Brionna's size when it happened?'

"The part where you rolled right to your feet, pulled a couple of pieces of glass out of your arm, and shouted, 'I just had some stitches removed, *******!'"

Arsenic actually did chuckle at that. 'And Vix kicked my *** for the fact that you'd had to stitch me up again. What was it you said?' he asked Vix.

"That you were lucky Rowan had spare thread on her, because I wouldn't have used any more of mine," Vix said with a sigh. "I still swear you like getting new scars."

'I consider them a good way to count the number of times I've nearly died.'

[The Kingpin]

"I will have to ask you about those sometime...Perhaps when my head isn't wrapped in feathers," commented Andruil, a chirp coming from Shiryaz just as he downed another strip of chicken breast. "One of several things I should probably ask, now that I think about it."

[Hopeflower]

'By all means,' Arsenic invited. 'I'm not going anywhere in a hurry.' After a moment's consideration, he added, sounding slightly bewildered, 'Though in truth, I'm not sure what there is you could ask that would have you so hesitant.' He'd expected to have answered at least a few questions by now, but the raising of the topic and then it being dropped as quickly as Arsenic made it clear that it was alright to ask him made him wonder.

[The Kingpin]

"Distractions, mostly," responded Andruil as he leaned around the doorway to demonstrate his current be-feathered state, a hand pointing at the very possessive Shiryaz, who in turn momentarily lifted his head up to twitter at the trio, before going back to eating within the shelter of his wings. "You could say it is one of my many talents, to get drawn into matters that keep me occupied," he added, his hands doing the expression for him as his face was invisible behind the wings of the griffinhawk.

[Hopeflower]

The look Andruil got in response communicated Arsenic's skepticism without the need for magic. Distractions were one thing, the research they were actually here for another...but when they all ended up back here at the end of the day, usually awake enough for a conversation, the excuse didn't really hold water. The thought went unspoken.

'As you say,' he replied instead, and turned his attention back to Vix and Rowan's conversation. The discussion about his worst injuries had, it seemed, turned to the worst injuries any of them had come home with.

"I was with Brionna when she got that one," Rowan was saying as she lifted her mug. "Nasty piece of work, that arrow. Nastier even than the ones Andruil gave me. We couldn't get the head out without cutting the hole wider."

Vix winced sympathetically. "Poor kid. And she kept going even after?"

The burned assassin grunted around her mouthful of tea, swallowed, and said, "Had to. We were in the middle of nowhere. Thankfully the thing hadn't been poisoned or she would have been in a lot more trouble."

[The Kingpin]

The Knight stepped back inside the kitchen proper, holding the last strip of chicken for the raptor, which was quickly gulped down. From there, Shiryaz hopped off Andruil's arm and on to the table beside him, allowing him to wash his hands with the bowl he had prepared beforehand.

It was after throwing out the water in the bowl that he finally joined the others, to a bowl of cooling bread and eggs, and a mug of similarly cooling tea. Shiryaz was not far behind, hopping up and perching himself on the wooden arm of a nearby dining chair.