[say]"Since you're back,"[/say] Danta is saying conversationally to Edmund over his shoulder, as they grow nearer to the tangle and thicket of general badness that (apparently) is The Labyrinth, [say]"I figured you could help me check this place out. The Grounds is always so much bigger than I expect it to be."[/say]

Just when he thinks he's gotten to grips with the likes of the Inner Quarter and Jack Tar Landing and all the landmarks in between, here's this fuckin' thing.

[say]"What made you eventually decide to join us here for good?"[/say] he continues, clearly in high spirits despite the spookily-bookily things he's heard about this place. If they get lost, whatever - he's got a gore crow shift for a reason, right?

And it's not as though he hasn't told anyone where they're going, though quite when Kiada will spot the post it he's stuck to one of the bottles behind the bar is anyone's guess.

I don't care I'm using the table.

Ronin recalls a number of meetings, wanderings and other get togethers along the Bone Bridges in his time, but he doesn't think the structures have ever looked quite like this. Even so, it's with his hands shoved in his pockets and his shoulders a little hunched against the Leafchange breeze that he walks across one of the larger specimens the Grounds has to offer; being back here, especially alone, doesn't exactly fill him with glee.

Even so, it's worth double checking, just before he goes, that the void influence hasn't started to creep inward towards neighbouring regions. And you know, so far so good, other than the usual suspects. But how sad it is, to consider varieties of infected flora and fauna so everyday since Starfall hit. Huffing out a curse under his breath, Ronin peers over the edge of the bridge and into the water, as if it might hold all the answers.

He'd gotten Maea's missive about the planned experiments, and while he hadn't been wild about it he also hadn't forgotten his promise to help. Shit was getting out of hand, and the recent mental intrusions by that creepy fucking voice were doing nothing to ease his sense of trepidation over the current state of affairs.

He'd had plenty of deliveries to bring to the Grounds on this trip, though, so it had worked out for him to be here at the right time. After running all over the town and part of the Brambles to get the packages where they needed to go he'd finally found his way to the quiet peace of this little lake and dropped down beside it for a short break. Boreal, his dragon, soared contentedly high in the sky overhead, her pale form blocky and buff even at the distance she was currently at.

As for the courier? He had brown skin and dark, shaggy hair held out of his pale eyes with a strip of old leather. He was dressed in serviceable clothes of tough fabric, hardly new but clean enough, though perhaps a bit light for the Leafchange chill in the air. Not that he seemed to notice as he gazed morosely out over the Oasis, lost in thought as he chewed on a stem of grass, sucking the sweet juice from the root. Somewhat at odds with his other clothes was a cuff of glittering stone around his wrist and a dapper vest speckled in black and white that he wore over his shirt. A pair of goggles with lenses of smoked glass rested on his head, ready to be tugged down over his eyes to shield them from wind or glare at a moment's notice.

With a sigh he finally spat out the grass and rummaged around in the Bag at his side, pulling out a capped mug and a wrapped sandwich to munch on while the moment of peace lasted.

Thalassa

Dawn was perhaps too early to expect cheerful demeanor from anyone. The air held a chill bite that made for an uncomfortable experience for the Ancient participants, while a lingering mist lent a damp to the fallow woodland that the Halovians might dislike in turn. And if someone despite it all found themself content with weather and time, location and the amassed company in general, their reason for gathering was serious enough to somber the mood all on its own.

Maea Valair was not smiling as she took count of those gathered. It was a motley assortment, some invited for their skills while others had volunteered; all would no doubt prove essential to completing this endeavor in a safe way. While she very much desired answers, the safety of everyone would take priority.

She had brought them outside the entrance to the Spire and watched as assistants handed out individual bags of protective gear, writing tools and a single plain dagger to each guest. Behind her were crates and cages filled with creatures that emitted a nasty aura tasting faintly of purple, and standing so close to them left a sour burn in the back of her throat – doubtlessly also negatively impacting the contingent of armed soldiers, who watched the crates like hawks.
On the other side of the tower another set of creature crates waited, untainted, likewise watched over by guards who nevertheless looked like they would rather be anywhere else.

She didn't blame them.

[say]"Thank you all for coming,"[/say] she began simply, as the assistant stepped back. [say]"I am Maea Valair, Loreseeker and Ambassador of this region. Today we are going to perform a series of experiments in the hope of learning more about the Void infestation. While there is much we don't know, in this instance I want to focus on three questions.

"One; How does the infection spread?
Two, How fast does it spread,
And three, Do different types of magic have any noticeable effect on the infected creatures?

"Before we begin, please be aware that we will be handling infected specimen here today. They are dangerous. Make sure to protect yourselves at all times, wear the gear you have been given, and keep a close eye on one another to make sure no one is hurt. Should anything at all happen that derail this experiment and you don't feel confident in your ability to defend yourself, I ask that you immediately ensure your own safety and retreat into the first floor of the Spire. Should any Void infested creature escape it will be immediately killed; if the situation becomes unmanageable I will authorize the use of the Spire's weapon, as a member of the Hollowed Grounds council, to ensure the safety of everyone present."[/say]  

Pausing for a moment to catch her breath, Maea steeled herself; it was going to be a long and tense day. Speaking in front of so many made her nervous, and her face moved stiffly from the effort of keeping her concerns from showing through.

[say]"Before we begin, please introduce yourself and let everyone know what your abilities are, if you posess any. If you have any questions, now is also the time to ask. I shall begin;

"I am, as I said, Maea. I have a Molten Tiger shift, upgraded Fire magic and basic Disintegration magic. I will function as the head of this project - thank you for cooperating."[/say]

Catching and releasing the gaze of everyone present, she hoped it was an encouraging look; hoped, too, that these accomplished and highly individual persons wouldn't mind leaving her in charge. It was only for this one event.

[say]"Ah. Well..."[/say]

Ronin isn't sure how else to say this really has gone to hell in a handbasket without admitting just how thoroughly the Greatwood has been overtaken by the void. There's no small pang of sorrow in his chest as he shrugs away his wings, still standing on the outskirts of the violet infused trees and the writhing masses that seem to churn within the dense forestry.

[say]"I hope Phoebe is alright,"[/say] he notes absently; if things had been too bad, he has a feeling Frey would bundle the Nightingale away to safety as usual, but the worry is still present. Stepping closer to Remi, the Nova reaches out to snag his husband by the hand without really thinking about it.

Around them even the Stone Symphony seems touched by lilac chaos, and Ronin feels as though the deeper into the scattered islands they go, the worse things will get. [say]"Right on the doorstep of the Grounds, too."[/say]

Though the Greatwood had many eyes and ears with which to take in the insidious infection that came upon them like a tidal wave, it had been years since the fae or any other inhabitants of the woods had kept ties with the lands surrounding them. They had all but reverted back to the way things were before the barrier had come down, keeping to their own and staying safely behind the groves of tricksy trees that would spit out intruders.

Never before had the trees—had the Greatwood itself—reason to fear flora or fauna, though.

They came like shadows, slithering.
They came like a wildfire, spreading.
They came like the night, all-encompassing.

They came, and they stayed.

Hotaru had intended to visit Maea while leaving an offering for Ludo, only to realize after talking it over with Sunjata and Talyson that no Old God shrines remained in the Grounds. While it would have been easy to invite Maea to King's End to accomplish the same thing, Hotaru had once lived in the Greatwood, and her fondness for it - as well as its geographical closeness to the Grounds - had encouraged her to establish Ludo's Woods as their meeting ground instead in the letter she sent.

Now, she is sunbathing in the patch of sunlight filtering through the otherwise oppressive canopy overhead, hands planted in the earth behind her hips and face tilted up toward the sun. Her mountain lion tail and ears sprout tawny-gold, distracting away from the newness of her golden glow and shifting, gossamer hair. In this patch of sunlight she looks like she always has; happier yes, but unchanged. If she were not waiting for Maea she would have fully shifted, but too many large cats prowl these woods as is, and she couldn't be certain that the Ancient would have known it was her. So instead she lets the rays overhead hypnotize her into an almost meditative state, tail moving lazy and pleased through the leaf-littered grass as she waits for her companion to arrive.

Rain hammered against the tiny windows near the ceiling. It had been pouring for the better part of the day and a chill damp radiated through the new Lorekeeper's office despite the crackling fire within the common room hearth and the brazier within the study itself, where embers glowed red and lit up the metal container from within.

Maea noticed none of this. At some point she had drawn a shawl about her shoulders and brought herself a cup of tea. The brew had long since gone cold however, and sat half-empty amidst a sea of letters, reports and scribbled notes that crowded her desk. Deeply engrossed in her work to compile everything she had learned about the Starfall incident and the Void outbreak on Caido, the Loreseeker barely registered how the daylight faded, or when the thunder stopped grumbling over the city beyond. Every now and then she looked up from her work to reference a letter from the pile that Kiada had sent over, or to cross reference a date with the long list of notes she had compiled of her own conversations with various individuals.

Much remained infuriatingly unclear. There were gaps wide as barn doors in the collective knowledge about this whole matter, a realization that only became more obvious the further she progressed in her writing.

Finally, when she couldn't wrest anything else from the correspondence or her own memory, she signed off the report and set it aside with a weary sigh. Leaning back in her seat, Maea rubbed her stiff neck and closed her eyes for a moment. Something rustled in a corner; a book shifted on its shelf on the wall, and thudded loudly to the floor. She didn't look up. The chill in the room had as much to do with spirits of the dead as with the weather, and there was nothing she could do to help them. A subject for an entirely different report; one that would have to wait until some later date.

After a moment of rest, she reached for the quill again and pulled over a scrap of parchment. On it, she jutted down a list of what she still had left to do;

• Write to Lena in Stormbreak, about void sightings
  
• Outline for Void experiments, decide on location
  
• Diplomatic talks? Ball? Talk to Danta
  
• ...
  

Rain pattered against the high windows. The light of the afternoon had paled and vanished behind dark clouds and every once in a while thunder rumbled across the sky. Intermittent lightning sent shadows shooting far and wide across the floor and lingered as an echoe reverberating among the rafters, until the Aetheneum seemed to hum like a giant bell.

Browsing the stacks, Maea didn't much enjoy the weather. While the rain was good and necessary, a chill had seeped into her bones along with the damp. She longed to curl up by a fireplace with a good book, but the lightning cut off her train of thought whenever she found something that seemed promising and for a while now she had merely been roaming aimlessly, with her fingers idling over spinesof leather and cloth, until dust and vellum seemed etched into her very skin.

It was not, perhaps, the wisest thing to be doing in this particular library.

One careless touch was all it took. Her fingers simply snagged on a volume that protruded from the rest within the shelf, and all of a sudden it fairly leaped out. With a startled gasp Maea spun back to catch it in both hands, and as she did the book fell open upon her open palms. A flash of light more golden than the lightning lit up the Aetheneum for but a second - and when it faded only the book remained, lying open on the floor whilst motes of dust slowly glimmered in and out of focus.

The rain hadn't stopped. Wouldn't stop. She'd given up counting the days and wishing for sunshine. Maeve hadn't thought she missed the sun that much, but she'd been wrong. The constant deluge of rain reminded her of the monsoons and the many nights she'd spent alone.

Her arms tighten around her middle, squeezing her own waist in what was meant to be a comforting gesture. It fell short like it always did. Her own touch wasn't a stand in for human contact. Something she didn't have much of these days. The war had done a number on her, making her shy away from her once beloved home in Torchline and seek refuge elsewhere. Originally Halo had been on her mind, figuring it was far enough away that she could hide from anyone who might have words for the former queen, but when she reached out to Noah he'd suggested the Grounds. The demigod having gone so far as to find her an empty house on the very edges of the Domiciles, respecting her request for privacy and ensuring that no one knew she was there.

That hadn't included her children, of course. Edmund and Jude both being given her location when she decided to leave Torchline in favor of her health. Harper was aware, too. Not of her exact location, but that she had left. That it was for her health. He'd encouraged her to do so, knowing it was for the best, and only ever wanting her to be okay again.

She'd been here for a few seasons now. Almost a year and the Nightshade was better for it. Even if her progress was slow moving.

Maeve didn't jump at every sound now or have nightmares nearly as often. The stress of the war, leading, and her crumbling relationships further from her mind each day. Yes, she was doing better, but the loneliness was hard to keep at bay. Especially during the evenings when the rest of the world went quiet.

Aidon lifts his head from his clawed feet, orange eyes studying his bondmate as he gives a low trill, a comforting wave nudging against their shared connection. [say]"I'm fine.."[/say] She murmurs, one of the first things she's said all day and she winces at the unfamiliarity of her voice. Her eyes flick to the clock, lips pressing in a thin line as it inches further past six thirty and unease begins to swirl in her belly.