Shambling Horrors (Quest)

[Vincent]

When it came to the topic of accents Vincent's opinions on the matter were twofold. In his mercenary experience it seemed such a trivial thing to worry about where people were from. If they were your ally today then that was all that really mattered, that was already common ground to bond over. On the other hand he had to admit that Donovan picking out her accent on the fly as he did was impressive. Vincent really didn't have anything to say on it but his expression showed his impressment well enough. He could pick out common and heavy accent's easily enough but knowing wherefrom he wasn't so good at that.

Now, what did matter to Vincent more was the act of working together and his formation was a part of that. Donovan and Reed had agreed with his judgements finding them sound enough but then there was another the other. Nayru looked to be an independent sort. How annoying, taking on a mercenary job with a team but rather than offering an alternative she simply went with passive aggressive remarks that showed her distaste for orders. Vincent had no interest in fighting with anyone over it and so when Donovan offered an alternative Vincent simply shrugged with outstretched hands and said, "if that's alright with you?" his gaze turned to Nayru.

And reinforcement magic? Vincent had experienced it before during the siege on Hero City. That made sense then how she could use martial arts to fight monsters. Not wanting to express his concerns over Reed's disproportionate skillset to his and Donovan's own outright Vincent asked Nayru, "Any chance you'd be able to share some of that with the rest of us if things get messy? I know just how strong that stuff can be."

'And partner, there is something I would like to know too.' Phoenix Heart's main personality spoke up.

'Yes, I agree, the source of this suppressed storm must be her then, isn't that right?' The second personality agreed.

"Well, another thing, you wouldn't happen to know lightning magic would you?"

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

She... hoped Reed didn't space out like that during the actual fight. Without being privy to what had been going on in his head, it was a little concerning. He seemed like a good kid, naive but well meaning and genuinely eager to be a part of the party so to speak. Honestly, he reminded her a little of Elly... right down to the cantankerous steed, pole-arm, and bright demeanor. He didn't have the pink hair, but that was probably for the best. Regardless, she was going to try and keep an eye on him, he deserved a lot better than dying in the middle of nowhere surrounded by the dead and the damned.

...And the dense, going by the reactions she garnered. Reed was the only one who even made a token attempt to react to her suggestion, Donovan and Vincent both failed to offer any information whatsoever as to their preferred fighting styles. Maybe she had been spoiled by Veigue, Aerious, and Remus; knowing how they fought had made it much easier for her to know what she had to cover and where she could rely on them. These two musclebound buffoons didn't seem to have a grasp of strategy beyond 'me swing sword hard' going by their lack of contribution; she couldn't read Don very well, which gave the dragon a bit of pause - she was no Erim, but being alive for half a millennium usually made it pretty easy. Whether it was good or bad remained to be seen. He didn't seem too argumentative at least, just... not eager to share his preferred approach to fighting beyond the bare minimum he had offered earlier.

Vincent, on the other hand, his reaction said all she really needed to know for now. Completely ignoring her suggestion, likely because it hadn't come from him. Failing to offer anything beyond his ego and further demands; she could only hope he had a good sword arm. That or that he'd use that speed he'd been bragging about to run away and leave them to their work.

What a disappointment. She should have just kept going and left these guys to their own devices. At least she could have cleared the town before Reed got endangered. But she had resolved to at least try to work with them, even if she really didn't want them there. So once again the dragon betrayed little of her inner thoughts as she grinned at Reed, at last somewhat heartened by his well-meaning response. If his horse was half as fierce as it acted, he might be the most useful one here. "Watch my back, eh Reed? I'm relying on you."

There wasn't much to respond to from Don's own commentary. If he wanted her up front - well, that was where she preferred to be anyways. She offered him a nod and got moving, towards the front as requested by her dear companions. As for Vincent... well, no point in arguing. He could act how he wanted; if he didn't want to work as a team, she wasn't going to leave in a huff, just deal with this job and then mosey on off. The irony of how he was acting even before demanding further of her was not lost, though, and she had just enough good humor left to respond to his last question. "Lightning magic?" Heh. "Wouldn't that be a shock."

[Reed]

He shrugged with a flattered grin. "That's... Kinda odd. To me, y'all got them city folk accents, but y'all don't hear me sayin' nothin' 'bout 'em. Kinda just got used to 'em after a while. All yer fancy expressions 'n all.. Sometimes I just kinda sit there 'n nod my head atcha 'cause of all them big words 'n such," the Sacaean explained flatly. Whether it was a cleverly delivered joke or if Reed genuinely believed he was the only one there that spoke normally, the world may never know. But even if it wasn't a joke, whose perspective would be correct if no common view existed? It would be like telling left from right when the conversation members are facing two different directions.

As for the matter of the attack plan, though he wasn't some expert of psychology and social behavior, his gut said that there was some sort of discrepancy or conflict in regards to Nayru's position. Vincent and Donovan had differing ideas for the approach, and Nayru seemed to be thinking of something else. In other words, not his problem whatsoever! Let the smart people think of how to do this, and leave the rest to the one actually doing it. Even though Gracie was chomping at the bit and still held a sort of hatred towards the strangers, After Nayru's statement, her wary gaze locked onto her and refused to leave. Still no action thanks to a certain Arkyan's tight hold on the reins and her harness, but an odd reaction from an animal nonetheless. Riley, in the meantime, was red as the tomatoes that he cultivated at home. "O-Oh, uh, sure thing! I got yer back like dew on grass in the mornin'! Golly, this is gettin' me so excited... First job, 'n I got a good feelin' 'bout this! But, ah... Wait, wait, wait!"

He stared wide-eyed between Vincent and Donovan. "Does this mean I get to see y'all usin' them magicky swords 'n whatnot?! Well, fry me in butter 'n call me a catfish! See, I dunno the first thing 'bout how you fellers use somethin' so short 'n light, but Pa says they're quite somethin' to watch a master use. Maybe... D'aww, forget it. Not gonna make ya make no promises to me. But once I get the lance down, I'm gonna learn somethin' else, too! Maybe I'll figure it out on my own.~"

[Donovan]

The group began to move and tension hung in the air, but regardless, Reed seemed to be happy and curious. Donovan couldn’t help but feel the boy’s excitement lift his own spirits. And Nayru’s humor and appreciation of the boy only made the mercenary feel better about the crew. Even if there was some uncertainty amongst them all. “I’d be happy to show you a thing or two, Reed. I was taught, in part, by the great Duma himself - he’s a sword master from Sacae. Fastest fighter I’ve ever seen. Not even Fragarach could keep up with him.” Don said, as he tapped the hilt of the magic sword on his hip.

“This blade’s lighter than most any other you’ll ever see, plus it was infused with a silver alloy. Makes it extra good at killing monsters when I get up close and personal. Unfortunately for you, though - one of the main benefits of wind magic is that it’s the hardest to actually see. I can launch my attacks from a distance and, while they might not have the same umph as fire or nether magics, it’s a lot harder to dodge something you can barely see coming. I’m sure you’ll get plenty of amazing memories from the light show over there,” Donovan pointed over at the white haired compatriot ahead of them.

“What you should really be excited about seeing is Nayru. Reinforcement magic doesn’t look like much when it’s cast… but the first time you see someone throw an enemy across the battlefield, you’ll understand how amazing it can be. Frankly, I haven’t met anyone who just punches their enemies, so seeing her in action today is going to be a sight to behold.”

Donovan continued to walk onward. He was always unsure how much to tell strangers about his weapon. Magic swords were valuable and highly sought after by those that didn’t understand how dangerous they could be. Fragarach would fly out of the hands of anyone it deemed unworthy, but if it actually chose you to wield it… that was often a short lived experience.

Donovan found himself laugh along at Nayru’s lightning joke. He wasn’t sure what had made Vincent think that the woman knew any lightning magic, but he could at least appreciate a well placed laugh.

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

'City folk' accents...? Nayru was admittedly a bit uncertain how to respond to that, not offended but confused. She didn't think she sounded much like a Bulgar merchant or Etrurian fob. But she didn't really pay that much attention to what she sounded like, a lot of the time, just what she said. Traveling across the continent, spending so many years drinking in so many accents, had left her pretty good at recognizing them but hopelessly adrift as to her own. Still, it was true that they did talk quite differently from the young man. So perhaps he had a point, in his own way.

Watching Reed and Donovan discuss magic weapons was a treasure though, the younger man so obviously excited that it was outright infectious, and Don once again showed an uncanny knowledge of just about everything. She was pretty sure he wasn't a dragon, Nayru was... fairly confident she could have sensed it, but if he did transform she wouldn't even be all that surprised at this point. He was impressively worldly for someone who didn't look a a day past his early twenties at most. Looks could be deceiving, yes, but she didn't think he was THAT much older than he looked. Though she was one to talk... still, while she wasn't happy to admit it, Nayru wasn't really that knowledgeable about magic weapons, having had few real encounters with them. She had no idea what a Duma was, but to be fair she had barely known Kenshin existed until she met him either so that didn't speak ill of him, just of her ability to pay attention to current events, apparently.

Still, she was happy to hear Don's explanation, splitting her attention between keeping an eye on the road ahead as they kept moving and listening to the details of his weapon. She had heard something about silver being a good tool against monsters, but never seen a wind magic weapon before. Lightning and fire only, really. So a wind one sounded interesting. Less explosively destructive, but swimming in utility... it sounded useful, she had to admit. She wondered if Aeos could do that with his wind magic.

"...I gotta say, I'm with Reed here. Looking forward to seeing those things in action," she admitted to Don lightly, looking back at him as she kept moving towards the village they were supposed to investigate. "Seen a few magic weapons before but never a wind one. Friend of mine knows wind magic and can do some pretty handy stuff with it," assuming that talk about 'wind spirits' wasn't just Aeos being actually insane anyways, she couldn't tell, "but attacking without much of a tell sounds like it'd be damn nice." ...Did silver work on dragons? She wasn't really sure, but it occurred to Nayru that she should probably try and find out at some point. She wasn't really sure if the silver thing was some sort of anti-inhuman magic or a reaction to the dark magic animating monsters, and depending on how it worked it was possible they could work on her too. Ever since Mana had cut her with that weird sword of hers, she had been forced to acknowledge that weaker reinforcement was NOT enough to stop all kinds of human weaponry, and depending on the circumstances she might find herself fighting well-equipped bandits or something one of these days.

Don was still talking about reinforcement magic, admittedly a... very flattering take on it that despite her age still made Nayru like the guy a bit more from the power of flattery, when she got another whiff of something darker in the air. Stronger this time. Older. Maybe it wouldn't have been so foreboding on a sunny day, but with grey clouds covering the sky, it just seemed a bit drearier, even if it didn't really feel like there would be any rain. Not that the stench of the Nether needed much help to be foreboding, though. She was definitely leaning away from her 'bandits' hypothesis, but Nayru was NOT happy to have been wrong there - at least bandits were easy enough to deal with. She didn't actually know what was up ahead. In a worst case scenario... it might be an Arum. And she wasn't sure if she could protect them all if that was the case. Given how the one in Bern had manhandled her... she wasn't even sure she'd be able to protect herself.

And she really didn't want any of them to get hurt. Whether or not they got along perfectly, or they were her friends. They didn't deserve to die to something none of the group really understood.

Still feeling a bit on edge, but not sensing anything incredibly close, she tried to will herself to relax a bit. Still pretty impressed by Donovan's breadth of knowledge. "Seems like you've done your fair share of traveling too, Don. Not many people I've met are so knowledgeable on such a wide spread of topics."

[Reed]

The eager lad's eyes lit up with a vivid curiosity as he studied the blade: Fragarach, as Donovan called it? The grip fashioned with a horn, along with the pommel designed after a dragon, hinted at its potentially deep draconic lineage. Granted, asking any Arkyan about the history of dragons will get you a tilt of the head and a basic guess as to what they were like, but fortunately Reed was a quick study to remember stories about the great creatures of old that once walked the earth. The name "Duma" sounded awfully familiar as well, but not enough to name from memory exactly what it was that he did. Perhaps he had a place in the City of Heroes?

"Huh. So yer tellin' me you can swing that there sword 'n hit stuff far away? Well, boy howdy, that sounds incredible! Heh. See, I ain't never seen nothin' 'bout things like these. No sir, not a darn glimpse. Not even too sure how y'all can swing swords around anyways. Sounds like a nasty nick waitin' to happen if ya swing it a lil' too close to a shoulder," Reed admitted with a calm nod. Ah yes, the question of the day had been answered at last! The poor ranchhand tried his best to learn a basic sword, but all he managed to do was to slice off a bit of his left pant leg for his mother to sow back together. To him, it was moreso the concept of not really having that much of a handhold to use when wielding the blade. Lances were great because the majority of the weapon could be held for different purposes and positions.

If anyone was happy that he wasn't swinging a sword, though, it would be the horse. For being so intimidating at times, Gracie would often have her soft spots. Her master's sharp weaponry and magic are two things that can send her into a kicking frenzy, so any practice with newer weaponry would be better suited for dismounted combat regardless. She was a child beneath that wild, unruly demeanor, and currently that child still held a fierce gaze at Nayru, as if she had just swiped a sugar cube from right out in front of her.

"Say, ya think them there magicky spells 'n whatnot ya use can work on me? Only experience I got with havin' some magic used on me was a good friend from the Chaklai tribe. Best healer I know, 'n I think that she's one-a the few people that ol' Gracie hasn't really lashed out against," he continued on with a shrug. In hindsight, having a healer would be a safe bet to have just in case anyone decided it would be a good day to take an arrow to the leg, or any other body part. But this was a group of four capable individuals plus Reed! What could possibly go wrong?

[Donovan]

Donovan felt himself smirk with a little bit of pride at Nayru and Reed’s admiration of Fragarach, before a tsunami of the sin crashed over him - apparently the damn sword was feeling particularly grateful for the praise that it was receiving. He took a moment to focus, and tried to ignore the sword’s overwhelming emotions - after a second, the sense of pride was dulled and Donovan was able to feel momentarily like he wasn’t sharing his body with some other soul.

“Wind magic is great for solving problems without just blowing them up. I can use it to improve mobility or cause a dust storm in the right terrain. Hopefully you all will get to see the bare minimum today. If we’re lucky, it’ll just be some outlaws or something we can wrangle up without much trouble.

“And if you want, Reed, I could potentially show you a thing or two about how to use a sword without cutting yourself too bad when we get through this job.” And while Donovan did have a fairly rounded understanding of magic, any extra sensory abilities he had were gained almost exclusively through the sword whose words of warning were being muted at the moment. Nor did he know enough about horses to notice how peculiar Gracie was acting toward Nayru, up ahead.
Instead, the mercenary simply responded to the mysterious woman up in the front of the pack. “I’ve been on the road for… my whole life really. Seen just about ever inn and town in Lycia,” he exaggerated, “But once my family troupe disbanded and I started doing this sort of work… It just takes you all over. Ilia, Nabata. Hell, I even went to that Island to the east. I think they were calling it Vinland these days? Let me just say… that place may not have zombies, but the spiders…” His voice trailed off thinking of the colossal spider that made a Bael look small by comparison. “You pick up a wide sorta knowledge when you travel that much. I’m sure you know that as good as any.”

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

Nayru privately agreed with Reed, more than she was comfortable with. Her time experimenting with swords and kama hadn't gone very... well, ok, yeah, it had gone like absolute garbage, no two ways about it. She had managed to use the kama okay, but it had always felt like it was something between her and the fight, a handicap rather than a weapon. Not that she was so good she didn't need them, per se, but more that she just wasn't very good at using them as compared to her hands and feet. They made it so much more difficult to practice martial arts that it just wasn't really feasible. It was frustrating, honestly. She had wanted to learn for a variety of reasons. Maybe it'd work out someday, maybe with another weapon, just... not swords sadly. Neither had using her magic on other people. Nayru was certain she had heard tales of dragons lending their strength to others, and she thought it was probably possible, but she had absolutely no idea how and she didn't want to risk blowing Reed up or something when her power could already be rough enough on her own body. "Maybe another time, Reed. I'd rather not use you as a guinea pig and risk hurting you in the process."

Glancing back at the crew (where had Vin gotten off to?) she couldn't help but notice Gracie's malign glare, but while most horses were more afraid of her than angry, it was enough of a normal happenstance it didn't really register too much on her. She'd just uh, have to not ask for a ride. Further enough ahead and at the wrong angle she didn't catch a good look at Don's sword, which was probably for the best at this junction in time, but she was certainly listening to what he said. The mobility angle was what interested her the most; despite her strengths Nayru was acutely aware that without wings or utility magic she wasn't the fastest fighter on the battlefield, and while she had some really dumb ideas to try out at some point to try and fix that, the reality of the situation was that it wasn't changing anytime soon. So having a magic sword that offered faster movement sounded handy.

"That... mobility sounds handy. How does it work?" Bringing her eyes to the road ahead there wasn't much of an expression to read, but there was definitely a note of interest in her words; it sounded like a useful tool to say the least, though she didn't know enough about magic weapons to really guess at what its capacities were.

A very small part of her found itself a little competitive with his comment about every inn and town in Lycia, but the ongoing discussion did an excellent job of swaying her attention. "f**k**g Vinland. If the giant dogs don't get you, the damn lamias will." Ok, yeah, she was still mad about Lafiel's weird obsession with Remus. But the idea of what Baels might be like there, given how much longer the Mauthe Doogs were, was... sobering. Nayru didn't think of herself as a coward, or rather she couldn't at this point, but she knew better than most how dangerous one of Elibe's Baels could be, much less the Elder Bael that had damn near killed her. If Vinland's giant spiders were even bigger, she was almost glad she hadn't run into them... though another part of her unhelpfully provided that it would be a hell of a challenge and therefore worth trying someday.

"Ah... yeah, you're right. Elibe these days is a mess. So many people need help, and one person can't be there for all of them." A light note of frustration tinged her words before the dragon regained control of her emotions, the anger at her own impotence having boiled over. It seemed like every time she got complacent with her strength, something happened to remind her how ultimately powerless she was to help the world, much less save it. But she knew all too well that she couldn't wallow in that sensation, allow herself to stop now. She owed it to too many people to keep trying, no matter how hard it was. For now, she just had to focus on the task at hand; one step at a time, one fight after another. If she remembered the map right - and with an eidetic memory Nayru was fairly certain that she did - they were getting close to the village, and the scent of the Nether was only getting stronger. It was strange that they hadn't seen anyone or anything, though. If it was a monster-infested shithole she would have expected to run into some by now, or if it was bandits they should have run into sentries, and if the village was fine they definitely should have run into travelers, woodsmen, or hunters by now.

"...Doesn't mean we can't try, though. Heads up, we're starting to get close to the village, hopefully we can get some useful information there. But... keep an eye out. Something isn't right." The bronzed dragon opened and closed both hands, experimentally channeling draconic essence through her body. There was no visible change, but she could FEEL the lightning coursing through her for an instant, the explosive burst of raw unadulterated power that had terrified her for so many years. It still did, honestly, but now it was the responsibility that came with it that was the cause.

[Reed]

[OOC: I'M ALIVE I PROMISE, you have no idea how much BS I had to sort through just to get this goshdarn post out (mostly college stuff, relationship problems, and a broken compooter). But I'm still alive! So, so, so sorry it took so long just to get it out but here ya go :D]

"Hm? O-Oh, uh, yeah! Heh, gettin' all banged up now won't do us no good, no sir- Urk, I-I mean, no ma'am!" the rural youth stammered apologetically, bowing his head out of respect. For being raised with so little class, it was amazing how cultured that Riley tried to present himself as. Perhaps it would be related to the fact that his people were looked down upon ever so, and how being so nice spared them an immense amount of ridicule and torment? Not the most functional of interactions with society and the outside world, but it did work for them, and sometimes that was enough just to push through.

The ranchhand nodded to the blade-toting warrior soon after his slip-up. "But I might wanna take ya up on that there offer, Mister Donovan, sir. See, I dunno if..." the boy trailed off, looking around. Where did Vincent run off to? "U-Uh... Anyway, I dunno if Sir Heelcutter'd tell me yes to bein' an apprentice 'n all given I ain't nothin' but a ragamuffin who can stab stuff. That's why I ain't sayin' no to any help I can get at learnin' how to be a proper warrior 'n all! You tell me when 'n where, and you bet I'm'ma be scurryin' on over to do my best!~"

From that point on, it was just talk about places that Reed had either vaguely heard of before, or knew literally nothing about. Maybe it was just him, but a response of "Yeah, I also like to Vinland every now 'n then" seemed off. The only message that really stuck was Nayru's warning of the potential dangers ahead, causing the Arkyan squire to cautiously ready his weapon and spur his horse into an alert, ready to charge pose.

...Yeah, not the best strategy for a guy wearing a safety harness who struggles just to hold on sometimes, but what else did he know how to do well enough to execute it? Hopefully the horse knows when it's bitten off more than it can chew and move should the need arise.

"Hopefully."

[Donovan]

The dastardly mercenary made a mental note on how much more curious the martial artist continued to become. She didn’t seem to refuse the ability to infuse others with strength, but she seemed to have little experience with it. Perhaps she was trying to distract cunning and unscrupulous adventurers away from her having a magic item infused with strength. OR perhaps she was truly just a martial artist who learned how to channel strength via magics, and never learned any healing arts so often associated with the strength stave. Perhaps she is a truly self taught magi who doesn’t even realize the potential that she has to weave her will into reality - she’s travelled the world desperately fighting for survival, become stronger and stronger to protect herself and her friends, but the failures and losses she’s experienced along the way only led to her will hardening into unbreakable steel and forcing the magic forged in the furnace of her convictions to expel itself via the only outlet she’d ever known. Her fists….

“That’d make for a good story…” The mercenary couldn’t help but mutter to himself. And in a very familiar twist of fate, as he looked back to his comrades from his manic daydreams, he saw that Vin had once again disappeared. “Where did…. Oh how does it work?” He needed to snap back to attention. Getting lost in daydreams like that were likely to get people killed. “Mostly I just aim at the ground and jump!” His mirthless laugh barked from his throat. “Getting into the air is easy. It’s landing that’s the hard part. Or if I direct the winds behind me while I’m running I can get a bit of a jumpstart in speed. I could also push you all out of the way of a nasty blow if I see it coming soon enough.” There were a few other tricks he had - mostly to do with close combat and how tricky it was to parry a sword that the wind always seemed to be blowing away from - that he left unaired. A wise fighter doesn’t reveal all his secrets to strangers - even if they are working together.

At the mention of Lamias, Donovan stopped in his tracks. “What in the 7 hells is a lamia?” But hearing Nayru mention giant dogs just reasserted his initial decision to not step foot on that island again unless the fate of the world depended on it. “Once we get through this particular spat, Reed, I’ll make sure it’s the first thing we do. A quick lesson to see where you’re at, maybe.”

It was with a somber realization that he might not be the only one here today feeling guilty for the state of the world. The note of frustration he heard in Nayru’s voice was one that most might not notice - but he’d heard it in his own voice every day since he left Lycia. How could he not recognize that tone? But what could he say? He blamed himself more than anyone but the lords and ladies who sat back and protected themselves while their citizens were slaughtered. He had no right to comfort anyone.

But it seemed like Naryu still had something that Donovan lost when he lost his friend. Some small glimmer of hope. “You’re right. We can try.” There was a finality in his voice. Heeding Nayru’s words Donovan drew Fragarach and gave Reed a thumbs up. I… Don’t think that’s what’s hip with the kids. But I am about 1400 years old, I could be wrong. I’m definitely not, but I could be.

Donovan tilted his head, conceding the point, and turned his eyes to scour whatever he could see of the village perimeter.

(OOC: didn't remember when the scouring happened exactly, if I'm wrong, my b)

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

OOC: Scouring started ~1400 years ago if I remember correctly

"You gotta relax, Reed. We're all in this together, no need for formality. You're Reed, I'm Nayru, and I'm no lady." Or a sir, for that matter. Should she stress that or - well, he could figure that one out on his own, hopefully. She wasn't quite sure what was going on with him, but guessed it was probably just nerves before his first real battle, especially in a team. And frankly, she could empathize with that. Not like she was full of team spirit at the best of times, what with the whole 'ancient enemy of humanity' thing and all. But she was definitely hoping they all came home, or more than hoping, if she had anything to say about it.

Donovan's explanation of his sword's abilities was interesting. Nayru knew... very little about many forms of magic, admittedly, and the majority of her exposure to wind magic had come from sparring with Aeos the one time. "That... does sound convenient," she admitted after a few moments of thought, pondering the ups and downs of his explanation. "Landing is always the problem, isn't it? Or rather, the sudden stop at the end." She chuckled, all too cognizant of her own, ah, struggles in that department. Super strength and durability were great and all, but as a wingless dragon she was not exactly the expert on taking off and landing strategies. If she remembered correctly, even Aeos the wind dragon struggled with that himself. Maybe dragons these days really were a little 'challenged' compared to the days of yore.

She was about ready to tell Donovan EXACTLY what kind of shameless hussies, Remus-stealing tarts, and complete dregs on society lamias were, in a manner that would have fit an Etrurian bishop lamenting the degeneracy of the youth today, but being reminded that there was indeed trouble ahead forced the emotionally unbalanced dragon to restrain her tirade until later.

What Donovan could have noticed first soon came into view for the entirety of the group; squat buildings left unprotected from invaders aside from an unfinished row of stakes protruding outwards. Little could be easily see of the insides of the village, the view partially obscured by thick foliage of nearby trees, but a number of corpses lying before the broken gates were not, most of them charred nearly beyond recognition but with no signs of battle to be found.

"...What the f**k" was all that came to mind as she moved towards the, uncertain exactly what had happened here.

OOC: either/both/neither of you may notice that the corpses are those of revenants, not people, and all seem to have been exiting the village rather than entering it.

[Reed]

What little composure Reed had managed to muster from his still budding courage had pretty much been chewn up and spit out, and if it weren't for his adamant declaration of following through with a first official "job", he would have easily hightailed it out of there without a second thought. Those archery lessons to his little sister (for which he was entirely unqualified for, mind you) helped to better his eyesight, but it was times like these that he wished his eyes saw nothing but the darkness of the blind.

Corpses. Big, small, partial, whole, he could not make out from the fog, but corpses nonetheless. Even if they had once been human, death had claimed them all as they were charred as if whatever lived in its stead was torched like cattails over a campfire. Nothing was on fire when it happened, but the concept of the end of life as he knew it loomed overhead. Just before leaving home, he had been responsible for the brutal slaying of marauders invading his homestead, and even self-defense didn't give him peace at night from images of the mess made by spear and horse alike. Then again, what is the life of a warrior but a man whose job it was to make more messes, just like he did back there? For all he knew, it was another warrior that could have caused it. A warrior just like him. In the end, it seemed to him that blood was the only ink that the world could see on history's page.

The farmboy gulped slowly, his heavy and shaky breaths audible to those around him. His hand trembled holding his halberd, still much too heavy for him to use like a master, and the shirt upon his back kept his hair, which was practically standing on end, hidden. Outside nerves and traumatic struggles aside, it would soon be time to once again paint the plains red should battle be necessary. Like it ever wasn't with Gracie raring and ready to go, like a caged bull itching to be released to thrash and kick like a vicious hurricane. "I-I... W-We should prolly be headin' in, y-yeah? Eh heh... I don't like the looks-a that sight, n-no sir..." he mumbled, signaling his steed to march ahead. His heart was pounding in his ears like ceremonial drums, and the sights only got worse as he got closer. The bodies seemed to look less and less human with each few yards closed... But they had to be, right? Humans lived and humans died. But why did these particular corpses appear to be so... Monstrous?

"A-Ah... Why don't y'all hold the front, yeah? I-I think I'd be better from the back! Ya know, 'cause I ain't no renowned fighter yet?" he practically pleaded behind him, slowing Gracie down in a gesture for either one of his companions to lead the way into the unsettling, ominous scene of a battle once waged.

[Donovan]

“What the F**k” Summed it up pretty nicely. The town’s defenses were certainly lacking, but more than that, it seemed… totally deserted. At least, from what the mercenary could make out through the treeline. It was the corpses that caught his attention most. He stared at them as the group started to move cautiously forward. They were burnt to hell and back, but he’d seen them enough times to recognize a revenant when he saw one.

“Something tells me we’re all going to need to learn how to land properly today,” Donovan whispered as he drew Fragarach and donned his shield. Reeds fear, while logical, was nowhere on the mercenary’s mind. All his senses were trained on hearing. But as far as his human ears could tell - it was dead quiet. As if no one had ever been here. “I’ll take the left,” he whispered positioning himself to the leftern flank moving out ahead of the young man on a horse who seemed to be justifiably afraid of taking point.

His boot crunched the brittle grass as he stepped forward. As quiet as it was in reality, to Donovan each footfall sounded like a trumpet calling whatever did this out to great them. And the noise from the horse felt defining. She was no small creature, after all.

His eyes returned to the bodies of the revenants and with a sudden horror Donovan stopped on a dime and gestured over Nayru and Reed. They had been too far away at first, but now that they’d inched their way forward he had a much better view, something about the scene didn’t sit right. “It’s like they’re all facing the wrong way… Like they weren’t trying to get in at all.”

[Nayru Al-Saiduq]

This certainly wasn't the first tragedy she had walked into, nor the worst so far; over the last few centuries she had happened upon more than a few villages that had been sacked or even razed by bandits or military forces, sometimes even been dumb enough to wade through the fields of blood looking for survivors. Wouldn't have met Vandolf if she hadn't. Wouldn't have been exposed to the utter depravity of humanity, either. Limbless corpses, women raped and hacked to death in an order she didn't care to think about, would-be heroes brutalized and tortured to death. So, while there was no way she could be unaffected by this, Nayru successfully stifled her reaction from experience. They didn't KNOW yet that anything terrible had happened here, maybe there was just a really skilled Anima magic user defending everyone.

But... she could taste the cloying Nether, curdling at the edges of her senses. She could taste the death and suffering that had happened here. Nayru didn't have quite the senses of some dragons, but an affinity for magic so strong had its effects. Something terrible had happened here, and she knew two things for sure; one was that she didn't want to know what it was, two, she had to find out regardless. Pherae was supposed to be safe, and whatever had happened here had shattered that faith.

She nodded at Donovan's quiet comment, focusing more on the right herself as she moved forwards, right fist clenched right as draconic essence poured through it - not in fear, but in anger, frustration bubbling in her gut as she tried not to think too hard about what she wanted to do to whoever had done this. It made thinking a little harder, but parts of her brain continued onward anyways, trying to make sense of the scene. These bodies... like Don said, they were leaving, not entering. Had they been trying to escape, or just leaving? As she approached it didn't take long to notice they were grotesque even by the standards of burnt corpses. Not human, for better or worse. "Revenants..." ...but what did that mean? Did revenants even know how to retreat? She wasn't an expert on them, but their implacability was part of why humans feared them so. So had they slaughtered the village and been ambushed on the way out? Had they been lead by something smarter than them? Had they been lured away? None of them sounded like good news for anyone, and she didn't really understand any of it.

The stench of burnt ozone hung over the place nonetheless, in some ways all too familiar to a lightning dragon, but something about the atmosphere was off, in a way she couldn't quite place. That was probably what bothered her the most, Nayru realized much later than she should have. She was used to being pretty good at predicting thunderstorms and recognizing lightning magic, but this didn't really feel natural or unnatural. It just... was.

Kneeling down, she flipped over one of the charred masses with casual ease, inspecting the damage. It didn't really look like Fire magic, to her. The parts that weren't burned looked to have that strange, meandering scarring that being struck by lightning could leave. It was like they had been fried in an instant rather than burned to death.

"...Lightning... or lightning magic... is what killed them, I think. Not fire." There was something wrong with the atmosphere, she could feel it, but couldn't tell what. "But there's little visible damage on the ground. I don't think they died here." So... what, they died inside, then walked out anyways? Or did something toss them out? At this point, she would have preferred to just be attacked by an army of monsters, at least that way there was none of this mystery bullcrap. Donovan was definitely right, but she didn't know what to make of it. "Were they... trying to get out? This place clearly wasn't ready for monsters. Those stakes don't look to be more than a few weeks old. But with no corpses... maybe the villagers escaped?"

[Reed]

"This... T-This town feels like all the people gone 'n left it like this. Just feels like these here monster things up 'n ran down everyone here, then rolled over to die..." the ranchhand mumbled quietly as he reached out to poke at a corpse and roll it over with his halberd. The likely electrocuted creature was nudged over until its scorch marks were in view. "They ain't playin' possum either, I reckon: can't argue that some right scary magicky spells done 'n fried 'em like a pork belly or somethin'. Ya called these fellers 'Reven-ants'? Looks worse'n those skeletons I saw before near the Ilian mountains. Mighty strange we ain't seen no human dead bodies, if ya say these here ain't humans..."

Unconsciously, the rider gently massaged the back of his horse's neck with a soothing aura about him. Riley, usually embarrassed about this gesture, carried an almost paternal instinct towards Gracie that seemed to calm the unruly beast of an equine during intense times. This would be one of those times, as walking around he had sensed that the horse was walking slightly differently than usual. Maybe she was sensing danger, or just her nerves? Whatever it was, it wouldn't do if she was spooked and threw poor Reed off like a trebuchet. "Easy, girl... I know ya don't like this here village, but we got a job to do here. I'll getcha somethin' nice on the way back if yer good, 'kay?" he muttered affectionately to the animal followed by a small pat. Gracie snorted- almost as if acknowledging the offer- and the sudden sound pierced through the unsettling quiet of the practical ghost town

"Right... So these ain't no humans, these blasted monsters've been runnin' outta town, and there ain't no humans in sight. If I remember right, 'Fee-ray' ain't sendin' us nothin' to help, so we gotta do this... O-On our lonesome. Yeah, that's right. W-What did the quest note day again? I would go on 'n pull out my note, but, uh... Y-Yeah. Readin' and Reed don't go together for nothin'." the boy stammered out, still keeping a grip on his weapon and occasionally glancing around at the corpses strewn across the floor lest he be forced to relive that nightmarish experience within the caves with the skeleton warriors.