Fallen Down [Althea/Don] [Finished]

[Althea]

Mm, that was some pretty comfortable dirt. Trying her very very best to look at the bright side of life, Althea carefully contemplated her previous choices with a certain degree of distrust. Perhaps this had... not been a good town to study in. She wasn't sure. She wasn't sure of much of anything right now actually. Her limbs were still made out of jelly, and her head wasn't doing much better. How... wonderful. On the bright side, she had confirmed that her research materials were gone. Wait, no, that was a bad thing. ALL of her work had been obliterated. Yes, definitely bad. At least it was consistent, which was something she could respect.

The destruction, that was. Consistent. Whatever had happened here had certainly made a bit of a mess of the village. The village that wasn't here anymore. There was a larger crater nearby that she had woken up in and managed to extricate herself from with some difficulty, but the entire village's grounds were now a blasted wasteland rather than, say, a village, or anything even vaguely resembling a village. She couldn't tell if it had actually been destroyed or swallowed whole by the Nether, but in Althea's professional opinion - which wasn't saying much - it had been a little of column a, a little of column b. The destruction was much too wide-scale and there were too many craters for it to be a nice neat little swallow, but the destruction was TOO thorough, with nothing remaining, for the remains to not have been subjected to something else entirely. And there had definitely been the Nether involved, because small wisps of it still lingered throughout the village, thin pools at the bottom of some of the craters, wisps and shadows elsewhere.

She hadn't bothered looking for survivors. There had been none remaining by the time things got weird, and there certainly weren't any now. Didn't take a mutant freak brain to figure that one out.

It was a strange sensation. She should have been worried about them. Of course she wasn't GLAD that they were gone, she had quite liked some of them, but the prone shaman didn't really feel much of anything right now, aside from sore, and a little bit grateful to be alive. Probably for the best, or she'd be a lot angrier about losing all her research. Maybe she'd just... lie here for a little longer. It WAS very comfortable dirt after all.

[Donovan]

The small band moved as one, some on horseback and some by foot. The Silver Tongue was flanked by Doogan on his right and Brandon on his left. Allie rode on the back of Doogan’s horse, her heavy armor clanging with each step. Bringing up the rear were Armon and Hutch. Armon turned out to be a monk from the Western Isles, well skilled in the arts of light magic despite his… off-putting demeanor. But his skill with light magic turned out to be invaluable to combating monsters. Rounding out their party was Malkary on the back of Brandon’s horse, the priest insisted on joining them, despite the late information. He was certain there would be survivors in need of medical attention. Don was not.

They’d received word of a large, monstrous force cutting its way through Tuscana and had heard tell that there was a town they seemed to be making a beeline toward. But Don knew they were too late to make it there in time. If the information was even true, they’d be riding into a town filled with corpses. Maybe a few Walkers to wipe out, but certainly nothing more than that.

But what Don saw when they arrived was not… well, shall we say not what he expected. “I don’t think that you’ll be healing anyone today, Malk.” The entire party stopped in their tracks. The town was gone. Destroyed beyond what any of them had ever seen, even Donovan. Craters littered the town, though he could not even imagine how it was possible. And there was something else, something dark.

“Elder magic.” Armon sounded afraid, frankly, he sounded terrified.

“Do you see those wisps?The nether still lingers in this place. He’s right.”

Don considered for a moment. He was far from certain, but something about this place felt… wrong. And that was coming from someone who willingly lead an spread thin group of mercenaries into hordes of the undead. “Then we should leave. If there’s something strong enough to cause this much damage, I want no part of it.”

“Then who else will stop this?” Allie pulled her visor up to reveal a homely face with small brown eyes and a crooked nose.

“Not the seven of us. If this thing can wipe out an entire town to this extent, then how do you think we would be able to kill it?”

“Don’s right. We don’t have the man power, there are too many unknowns.” Doogan sat a little straighter in his saddle. He’d seen more war than anyone else here. He knew a losing battle when he saw one.

“Maybe if we had Perun and his men. Even then, I’d want to wait for Mila and the rest of the Company before we fought something like this. We’d need at least 50 to even try. Not 7.”

“But what if there are survivors, Donovan?” The priest looked at Don, pleading for a chance.

“Look at what we rode to, Malk. There are no survivors here.”

Hutch rode forward a few steps. The nomad staring off into the distance a little at something in particular. Don saw his gaze and his hand went to Fragarach. The sword only had one message for him. Leave.


“I’m sorry to have to correct you on that one, Commander,” Hutch turned around in his saddle sheer confusion on his face, “But we have at least one survivor. Look.” He pointed off into the distance and Don saw it. Through the haze and the nether there was a girl shifting on the ground with snow white hair.

He drew Fragarach and rode Aonbarr forward into the remnants of the town. He company followed. Brandon and Malkary closest behind him. I do not know if this is a good idea, Liar. [] Come on, Frag, you’re the one always pushing me to be more of a hero. We’re riding in to save a “wounded maiden” What’s more heroic than that. [] It drips of the Nether. It is not a place to risk, even for us. [] I think I must be rubbing off on you. You really are putting yourself first aren’t you, I knew you’d come around one day. [] How dare you, Mercenary! [] Relax, Frag. If this girl is alive, then we have a witness. We get in, we heal her, we get her out. Then we can actually figure out what happened here. And stop it from happening again.

The Silver Tongued mercenary dismounted, still holding Frag in his right hand, and stood over the girl. He thought he must’ve struck quite the figure. His armor recently cleaned and his sword in hand, surrounded by the desolate ruins of a destroyed town. “Are you alright?”

[Althea]

The world was kind of topsy-turvy and upside down, but she wasn't actually deaf or blind, so Althea could hear and eventually see an indeterminate number of upside down riders approaching her. Maybe the grim reaper was real! Or the Four Horsemen! Oh, that would be exciting. Wait. No, that would be bad, because she would be dead. But it would be interesting. And she would at least have proof that they were - no she wouldn't have proof, because she would be dead.

The thought that she was having a very silly argument against herself did come to mind eventually.

"Yes, I'm doing wonderfully," the prone mage responded cheerfully, her voice more than slightly spaced out but still remarkably soft and smooth given the circumstances. She could only see Don upside down but she did see a sword, which didn't exactly fill her with hope, but honestly just surviving whatever the heck had happened with the monsters had left her in such a good mood that she couldn't really be angry about potentially being a few moments away from being decapitated. "I don't seem to be able to move right now, though, so please excuse my rudeness in not greeting you properly." There was still a certain airiness in her voice that belied the situation, but she certainly wasn't lying. It was more just that she had been somewhat overloaded by the day and wasn't really able to come up with anything more to say of value.

Also she wasn't dead. So... that was nice. Althea found that she sincerely hoped it stayed that way. That said, she couldn't actually think of anything else to say. Mostly because her chest was still very sore and breathing was a little bit hard, but also because her whole head was mush right now. Not entirely surprising given the circumstances. But frustrating nonetheless.

[Donovan]

Donovan eyed the girl cautiously. She was lying on the ground still and seemed to be no immediate threat, but then again, she was the sole survivor of this massive wasteland. So he wasn’t exactly sure if that was a positive or a negative. As with most things, he figured playing the fool and being charming was the safest option. After all, either they’re a threat that lowers their guard, not realizing his is still fully up — or they’re actually a decent person. Besides, she was kind of funny, like a quirky kid. And if she wasn’t a danger to him or his people, then it would probably be best to treat her with kindness.

He kneeled down beside her, Frag still out, though not held in quite as aggressive a manner as before. “Well, why don’t you not worry about any rudeness, and we’ll make sure to patch you up best we can and get you right out of here, alright?” He smiled. It was a small thing, but sometimes the smallest signs of kindness have the biggest impact.

Don stood and nodded to Malk before addressing the others. “Brandon, Hutch, fan out the farthest, east and west, and keep a careful eye. Make sure your weapons stay ready. Allie, Armon, take positions, north and south. If any of you see anything, don’t engage. Come back and warn the rest of us.”

It was good, of course, to form a perimeter, make sure nothing got close without them knowing. It was better to get his less powerful friends away from this potentially dangerous girl. Doogan seemed to catch on, as well, with a significant look to his commander. “Why don’t I just stay here with you and Malk, make sure nothing gets too close while you sort all this out?” He hoped it would not come to it, but if this girl ended up being the reason all this happened, he didn't need his friends getting in the way with their dying. He needed them to run. 

“That’s too kind of you, Doogan.” Don smiled and looked back to the girl, whom Malkary was bending down beside, staff in hand. His simple brown robes and grey hair made him look like the least imposing figure possible. Either way that would only help. When Don talked to the girl, he assumed a very gentle tone. “I’m Donovan. That guy in the crimson armor over there, that’s Doogan, trust me, he’s much more of a softy than he’ll admit. And this man here—“

“I’m Malkary. And I’m a healer.” Talk gingerly reached out and cautiously touched the girls arm. “Do you mind if I heal you? You might be able to stand if I do.” Malkary was a softy. Like Remus, but older and a little more grandfatherly than naive boyyo. Exactly the kind of priest you want in a situation like this. The green clad mercenary only hoped the girl responded well.

“What’s your name?”

[Althea]

"That... would be much appreciated." Althea tried to laugh as if to emphasize the humor of the situation, at least in her mind, but it came out more as a couple loud breaths. Most of the names that were exchanged back and forth in the interim passed over and through her, she definitely wouldn't be able to remember them even now much less in a few days or a week. All she was entirely aware of was that they had names, probably, and that Donovan apparently had the authority to tell them what to do. She stored that bit of information for future consideration. Might be useful sometime.

Doogan and Malk (Malkary?) were introduced and introduced themselves respectively, hovering around her like... vultures, and some, she assumed, were good people. Maybe all of them if she was lucky! If they turned out to be bandits she was absoluely screwed, in... more meanings of the word than she was comfortable with. Not her thing entirely, and it would certainly take a great deal of the pleasantry out of her survival of the earlier events. "Yes, please, I liked it better when I could walk. It's much more convenient that way." Not even she knew if she was joking or just being honest, but at least it wasn't sarcastic, which was an... issue that she sometimes struggled with. The Althea of the moment was far too frazzled to make the attempt, though.

Oh! Right. Names. Someone had asked for her name, hadn't they? She couldn't actually remember if it had been Donovan or Malkary, but she was fairly sure it wasn't Doogan. That was the farther away one. Trying to focus on remembering that a bit, she perked up a bit, trying to greet the response with a smile. "My name is Althea." See? Easy. They were apparently playing 20 questions anyways, so she tried to think of any of her own that were relevant. It was much more difficult than usual, but one did float to mind very quickly, even if she already knew the answer. But for once, Althea wanted nothing more to be wrong, more than she ever had before perhaps. Hope etched itself on her brow as she asked "Did you find anyone else?"

[Donovan]

The priest in brown robes went straight to work healing the loopy, goofy girl. She was probably concussed based on the random laughing and the inability to focus. “You are going to be patched up real quick, don’t worry.” Donovan smirked. In her own way, the strange white haired girl was charming. He could barely tell if it was her actual personality or just her concussion making her act like a she was straight from the Moon. Whichever it was, he was beginning to feel less weary of the girl. Though not enough so to sheath Fragarach. He knew as well as any that such a persona could very well be an act.

“So, you’re Althea? Well, Althea, it is very nice to meet you.” Malk continued to heal the girl, muttering a prayer under his breath as a pleasant blue light radiated from the crystal on the stave he held above Althea’s body. “Think she’ll make it, Malk?”

“I think she’ll be just fine, Don.” Malkary nodded to Don, but the Silver Tongue noticed a strange look pass over the healer’s face. He’d question him about it later. His attention was drawn back to the girl when she asked about other survivors.

“I… No. We didn’t. In fact, we wouldn’t have found you if you hadn’t been all white on the middle of the ground. Generally when the undead walk through a town like this, they don’t leave any survivors. Not when there’s this much destruction.” He hesitated, but he needed to ask now if he hoped to get a truthful answer out of her, when the memory was most fresh. “What happened here? Do you remember how this town got… such a bad case of acne?”

[Althea]

"Ah." Her expression approached crestfallen as the cold hand of truth bore down on the fallen shaman, but it wasn't anything new. She wouldn't break down and cry over what she had already known; if she was going to do that, she would've done it upon realizing it. She would grieve them in her own way, but as things were she could shed no tears. Althea privately wondered if that made her a terrible person or not, but the simply fact for the time being was that they had more or less all been slain before the creatures even found her, and they were certainly gone now. There was simply nothing she could have done for them, not with her mediocre level of strength.

-She sure would've liked to be wrong, though.

Regardless, the grim reminder knocked some of the sass out of her, though it did little to make her head all that much clearer. The priest's healing did help though, and while she didn't exactly feel at 100% now, she DID certainly feel better. That was quite nice. She'd have to learn more about healing magic someday, it had always seemed very useful to her, but for the most part she'd had only her limited interest in Elder magics and her research to focus on. The thought that this might actually be the first time that the white had been actually useful was a little amusing, though, inappropriate of a timing as it might be.

It would be rude to ignore Donovan's question of course - she was just going to shorten that to Don for future use, so Althea responded as quickly as she could manage, which involved sitting up somewhat woozily and checking to make sure that her various limbs were still attached. Yes, they looked in remarkably good condition all things considered. "Thank you, Malkary." VERY glad at being able to move somewhat, though one swaying motion when she tried to stand politely suggested she not make that effort again, Althea nodded politely to the healer in gratitude for his work. She couldn't really tell what he had done, and she was still exhausted, but at least she could move now.

"As for the town..." The pale shaman swept the ruins, if they could be called that, with her gaze. "A massive number of monsters attacked without warning. I awoke to screams, and..." She paused, looking vaguely confused for a moment as she tried harder to remember. "I recall trying to fight them off, but I'm not much good that," she said, half-smiling in a self effacing fashion. It wasn't really funny, but it was true nonetheless. Althea scrunched her eyebrows together more closely as she realized she wasn't actually sure what had happened next, and this time the second attempt did not bear fruit, only a whirlpool of vaguely familiar sensations and nothing of value. Hm "...That's odd. I'm not sure what happened next." She looked back up to Don, her eyes almost wondering. "The last thing I remember is the creatures coming for me, then waking up here."

A thought struck her, and she pouted. "And now all my research is gone." So much parchment and so much knowledge wasted. She still retained some of it in her head, but much had been lost. She was going to have to figure out a safer way to store her various artifacts and relics in the future.

[Donovan]

Donovan watched as Althea’s face fell. She seems to mourn them, Liar. True, but she doesn’t cry. She probably wasn’t from around here. Don took a step or two back from the girl and Malk to give her a bit of breathing room. The young woman seemed fragile to him, almost birdlike. As if she were ethereal herself.

Donovan Listened to her recount the attack on the town. The huge number of monsters was consistent with the information they’d gotten. to send them on this fruitless journey. Though it would be impossible for them to judge how long ago the actual attack happened until they got her back to civilization and told her what day it was. As for what caused the destruction, it seemed most likely that she fell in battle. A girl like her was most likely some sort of mage. She’d almost certainly have drained herself in battle and fallen unconscious from the strain.

“Well, we will do our best to help you remember. Get you back to a town, somewhere safe, protected. Do you have any family? Friends? Someone we can send a letter to for aid?” Something that the white haired woman said piqued his interest. “What kind of research do you do? I have… a few connections that might be looking to sponsor scholars or mages.”

She seemed so fragile and not at all hostile. Ultimately, though, it was the wonder in her eyes as she tried to remember what happened. With that he made a decision he desperately hoped he wouldn’t regret. Fragarach was sheathed and Donovan offered his hand to help Althea stand. "Let's get out of here."

[Althea]

Ah yes, family. She'd have to ask Kraft about that. Certainly he would be happy to return them, wouldn't he? Not sure if she was joking or actually just held a grudge, Althea attempted to push the subject from her mind and tried to focus more on the subject at hand. That was how she always managed after all. Focus on one thing at a time. You can't get overwhelmed if there's only ever one thing to handle at once. "I'm... afraid not," she said honestly, not particularly perturbed by it anymore or at least very good at convincing herself that she wasn't. "I live on my own." And the people she did know were research associates at best - no one who would be particularly interested in taking care of a strange young woman. And she knew quite well what many thought of her demeanor. She wasn't stupid. Different maybe. But not blind.

Donovan had been nothing but respectful so far, despite what Althea was... vaguely aware was not her finest hour. He was unusually hard to read for some reason though. She wasn't sure why. But what she had seen seemed quite kind so far, and she was willing to take it at face value. After all, it was not as though she was in much of a position to judge others for hiding some facet of themselves beneath the surface, was she? Modern Elibe was a world as full of wonder as it was tragedy; everyone had lost something. Maybe she looked like his dead sister, or he hadn't been able to save his family, or perhaps he just thought of all Lycians as his family, or any of a number of perfectly valid base reasons.

But that aside, his second question did regain some of her attention. As was the case for the reserved researcher, she didn't get a great deal of opportunities to explain what she did without eyes going blank and jaws slack, so despite it being a... minor abuse of Don's kindness, she latched onto the opportunity nonetheless. Albeit with the sense to not go far too heavily into detail. "Oh, I'm an archaeologist, researching the history of magic in Elibe. After a particularly fruitful adventure in Nabata I settled down here for a time to gather my thoughts and my work." Somewhat more upbeat in the wake of talking about something she actually liked, as if she'd forgotten the situation they were in, Althea continued happily, with a bit of bemusement sinking into her tone. "I suppose it was time for me to move on anyways, but- oh, are we going somewhere?"

Focus, Althea, he JUST said he was taking you to a town.

What if he's lying?

"What?"

[Donovan]

He wasn’t surprised she did not have a family. This was Elibe, after all. No one had a family. A living one at least. Everyone’s family was killed by bandits! “Well, I’m sorry that you’re on your own out here. But I’m sure you’ll find a way to bounce back.” He smiled kindly, but he wasn’t sure, of course. This was Elibe, after all.

But an archaeologist was interesting. And the history of magic was very interesting. Especially considering what had been happening across the continent since Ostia and the City of Heroes. If her work proved to be accurate, she might even have a place with the LCO working on Mila’s team. “You know, a good friend of mine studies the monster population in Lycia. I think she did some archaeology of some kind. Apparently. Nabata is a very common spot for you bookish types to have life changing adventures.” Of course Mila’s gave her a crippling fear of being underground and Thunder, but Don thought it best to not mention that bit of information.

Don looked around them at the girl’s question and chuckled a bit. “Would you prefer to stay? I think it’s best for all of us to get somewhere safe. The nether stains this patch of earth.” The Silver Tongue startled. He had not said those words. Keep out of my mouth, you crotchety old blade. We need to leave, Donovan. I do not trust this place.

He stood and once again offered his hand to help her up. He understood her reservations of course. This was Elibe, after all. You couldn’t trust anyone these days. “You’re free to ride with me, on Aonbarr. She’s got quite a smooth gate and has a particular fondness for apples.” He had not brought Kitchi with him on this particular venture. They rode in knowing what was in store. The fox was back in the last town over waiting for their arrival. It was smart enough to look out for itself whilst he was away.

“You’ll be safe with us. You have my word.”

The word of a liar. We aren’t going to hurt her! Yes I know that, Boy, but regardless, you shouldn’t offer your word as collateral. It is worthless. My gods, I miss the quiet. 

[Althea]

"I do have some experience on that note." She spoke airily but with a tinge of sadness that evaporated quickly as Althea regained control of her emotions. What had happened, had happened, and she had long since moved past that. Right? Right! No further issues at all. Aside from the voice in her head shortly ago that sounded like her but wasn't her. Noooothing to worry about there. Just normal crazy. She'd always known that spending so much time alone in dark ruins and musty temples would eventually drive her to madness and the abyss, but had always thought she'd have longer before the desire to raise a number of cats in a cottage in Lycia grew so strong.

"Monsters... I've always just avoided them. More trouble than they were worth. They don't use magic anyways," she shrugged, "and they aren't as common in Nabata thankfully. Your friend must be quite the warrior to handle them." Was that his girlfriend or something? Mila... Mila. Mila? No, Althea couldn't place the name. It was short and simple to the point that it didn't mean much. 'Gilgamesh, King of the Sands' would be the kind of name that would stick with her. "And no," she said honestly, "there is nothing more for me here. I only wish that I could have helped the villagers."

But... how? Althea didn't know any kind of magic that could destroy that large of a horde, nor was she strong enough to use it even if there was. And she still didn't know what HAD caused all this destruction, or if it had slain the remainder of the villagers.

No, they were already dead.

Oh yes, thank you disembodied voice, for trying to help me feel better.

Gradually feeling more and more uncomfortable being anywhere near here, Althea accepted the kindly man's hand with as much grace as she could muster, pulling her light frame aloft with a mix of natural grace and drunken stupor that made for somewhat of an incongruent spectacle. Hoooly wow she was still feeling pretty weak. "Thank you." Looking down, Althea inspected herself. Fudgesicles. She was... not as dirty as she'd assumed, but neither was she cutting a particularly pristine sight. None of her research, her cloaks, her hoods, her tools; only the white dress she preferred, the damn book from the ruins, and a head full of mad. "Well, I am glad you didn't turn out to be bandits." Which they still might be, just very nice ones. "I'm... not confident in my riding skills," she admitted, eyeing the horse with some degree of worry, "but it does seem preferable to walking, sir Donovan."

[Donovan]

Don’s brow furrowed in thought. Could he say he considered Mila a warrior? She was skilled in her arcane techniques, to be sure. And having someone on the team who was able to help reshape the world around them was always very helpful. But he didn’t think that the green haired scholar was what he’s call a warrior. She hungered for knowledge far before a good fight.

He helped the airy girl to her feet. She wobbled ever so slightly, but Althea managed not to fall. “You’re very welcome. And who needs banditry when slaying monsters is such lucrative business? Honestly, I’m surprised there are any highwaymen left in Lycia, with so much demand for body guards and beefed security in this country.” Don ran a hand through his hair and checked to make sure the saddle was in proper condition.

His head whipped around to look Althea when she called him something most disturbing, “Ew. Gods above and below. Althea, Please. I am no knight. And if I were, I’d be a pretty bad one.” He laughed at the idea. Then he thought of Perun as a knight. With the armor and riding a horse instead of his bull. Somehow he was certain that Perun would find the whole experience to be utterly unpleasant. “Why don’t you get on her first. I’ll ride behind you to keep you from falling off, if that makes you feel more comfortable.” He lace his hands together to offer the girl a step up.

[Althea]

"Well then." Althea was somewhat taken aback by Don's strong refusal of her wording, admittedly somewhat curious about why he felt so strongly about it but not especially bothered by the notion. It was his business more than hers, and as long as he wasn't going to turn her into a meat popsicle or a flesh bicycle, she would definitely take that over the alternative. They all had their little problems and blotches in their pasts, sometimes their fault, sometimes simply cruel fate or circumstance. But that didn't mean she was quite willing to let the matter slide. Unfortunately (for him), she was feeling a little bit better now, and that meant it was sass o'clock. "I suppose you'll have to settle for being my hero."

With the lightest of mischievous smiles in the wake of her unprovoked assault, the slender shaman sallied forth into the fields of battle, and by battle she meant mounting the horse, which went well enough with Don's help and most definitely would not have passed for professional horseriding in any corner of Elibe. But she did manage to get up there without doing anything too embarrassing or suicidal, which was better than her last experience with horse riding! Though the thought did occur to her that he had essentially exhausted the list of things she could really envision him being. He was pretty bad at banditry if he was one, he claimed not to be a knight, and no mercenary would help others without coin - which she clearly had none of. Of course that only got her thinking about the possible worst case scenarios which REALLY didn't help. "I'm, ah, ready to leave then, I suppose."

Yes, she was... very, very ready to leave and never come back.

[Donovan]

Don shrugged as a grin unceremoniously took over his face. “That’s what they call me, the big damn hero.” As much as Don would try to play the tough guy or the ruthless scoundrel, inside he was still a ten year old kid performing in his parent’s plays, waiting for his chance to play the hero in “The Fall of Pherae”. Maybe that’s why Fragarach was drawn to his hand in the first place, despite the blade claiming such dislike for his manipulative habits.

Once Althea shakily got atop of Aonbharr, he followed suit, riding in the saddle behind her. He used both hands on the stirrups to ensure that he had more control. He didn’t want the girl to fall off and hurt herself because of the pale mare getting spooked. “Let’s leave this hell hole behind us, shall we? Get it? Cause it’s a crater?” Doogan had mounted his own horse and Donovan groaned at his atrocious pun. He hated puns. The Halberdier pulled a horn from his belt on the Silver Tongue’s signal, blowing three quick notes to signal the others that it was time to leave.

Brandon quickly returned to pick up Malkary, while Doogan left to grab Allie, but in nearly no time, they’d all left the destroyed town behind them and were back on the path to civilization. “That’s part of the blessing of keeping things small. Everyone knows their duty and everyone does it well,” he said to Althea. “Its nice working with people who watch out for each other as much as these fools.” He nodded toward Doogan, “Even that crass, cheating bastard would do anything to keep the rest of us safe.” He coughed and shifted in the saddle. "Uh, I mean. We're ruthless mercenaries who would do anything for a little coin," he joked, lowering his voice into a raspy, "manly" character.

[Althea]

"Hee." Althea chortled, followed shortly by "Ahahaha!" as she devolved into peals of giggles, one hand held before her mouth to tone it down a bit. Some said that sarcasm was the lowest form of wit, but terrible puns were at least two steps further down the scale, and the... self-awareness of Doogan's horrible humor made it loop around into an avant-garde sort of actually-funny humor. Or maybe she actually was touched in the head, and the kindest thing Don could do for her was decapitate her before the curse of bad taste consumed her, body and soul. So far she'd never found out what a sword to the gut felt like, though and the shaman didn't particularly want to find out today, or anytime soon, or actually ever if she had her druthers.

They left the town behind in short order, something Althea was privately amused by on account of the fact that her travels were usually by wagon or walking, neither of them exactly ah... expedient as travel methods went. There was a small moment of weakness in which she did look back though. It was true, she had been somewhat of an outsider in the town, but they had been kind and it had been... somewhat of a home. But something had taken them from her, and she had a feeling that she was taking a great deal of the mystery of what had happened there along with her. Not literally of course, that would be silly. But spiritually speaking. It was a mystery to look into. Powerful magic had been worked there, and she owed it to herself to find out why... and how.

Donovan's explanation of their small group struck a chord of interest in Althea nonetheless, possibly in the wake of her feeling a bit lonely. His... love-hate relationship with Doogan especially; she knew a young Ilian lady who would immediately start writing fiction of the two of them together in various compromising positions, but decided against sharing that with Don. People didn't tend to react well to that for some reason. But there was a... truth in Donovan's voice, maybe more than he meant given his impression at the end, though that might have been a joke. But it truly did sound as though they were more than just a couple of well-meaning idiots, or even a group of soldiers. They actually knew each other. Fought with each other.

"...You trust each other," she breathed after a moment of thought, as she tried to understand it better. Obviously she worked with others when researching things, and trusted them in the moment when necessary to hammer in pitons or catch falls and the like. It wasn't like Althea had never been around another human being before. But real trust, the kind of deep friendship that drove people together through the horrors of Elibe... she hadn't had much of that in a long time. The shaman added another thought to the previous quietly, her voice a little wistful as she spoke her thoughts unedited. "It sounds... nice."