[SWE] Where Angels Fear to Tread

Beatrix sniffled again, her shoulders shaking violently as she tried to get her tears to stop. This man seemed nice enough. He couldn’t possibly be like one of the bad strangers mother and Neron warned her about. He was even offering to help! “Yeah I am.” She said when he asked if she was from Northaven. She sniffled again and wiped her nose on the sleeve of her dress – it was running from her crying of course. She didn’t have a hankie. Neron always let her use his.

She hiccuped/hyperventilated a little – though less so than before – when he said there were people nearby and maybe her mom was there. “Loren is my half-brother. And Edy is a cousin. And Neron is my half-brother too but he married my mom so he is my dad now.” She said, with a few sharp intakes of breath as it slowly began to get back to normal. “I’m Bea.” She said to him.

Feirsanbrus

Ech, snot on the sleeve. Gross, thought the man as he rubbed his own sensitive nose with a finger. He took the girl's hand (if she allowed) and began to walk with her towards the crowd.

Half brother married to her mother? So he's a father-brother? How does that work? Brus may not be from Northaven and now he wasn't too sure he'd ever want to be.

"Brus," he replied gruffly when Bea gave her name. By now they were entering into the crowd, and, making sure the girl didn't run off and get lost again, he belted loud enough for all to hear,

"Oi! Is someone here missing a little girl? Goes by the name of Bea?"

Dodge didn’t like the smells here. Didn’t like the way the air felt. Hadn’t he been somewhere peaceful before? The Untamed Lands or.. Something like that, yea? So where in the ever loving fuck was he now?

The coyote opened golden eyes, and dread clawed into his belly. He very slowly crouched low, tail drooping between his legs and ears lying flat against his head as he cast a white-rimmed gaze about at the desolation. People were calling, shouting, moving. He recognized them. What were they all doing here?

His heart was a wild and unsteady racing in his chest, and the sandy-furred canine remained perfectly still against the shadow of a collapsed wall. He couldn’t seem to make himself move. Where had the wall gone? The forest? The town? And what in the five bleeding hells was that black spike looking thing shooting up towards the sky? His thoughts were tumbling faster than he could keep up with, and he found himself desperate for anything familiar to hang onto.

Then he heard perhaps the most encouraging voice he’d ever known. The coyote rose forward, ears swiveling forward and eyes flicking about the faces as rain began to fall, soaking his pelt and… there. Dodge let out a sound that might have been a yip or a whine, his chest tightening painfully when he spotted Koel a short distance away. Koel would know what to do, what was happening. If he didn’t know either of those things.. Well, he sure as all hells had a more level head than the coyote did.

He surged forward to race after his friend, but he let out a sharp yelp as pain lashed down his back, sending him stumbling forward and into the rough dirt with a huff and grunt of air. He didn’t stay there long, scrambling to get back on his paws - why did his back hurt, and so badly? It was a sharp, deep ache.

He turned his head to look at his back as he panted for breath, and he tilted his head at the sight of a long wound across it, neatly stitched and just barely leaking red. Canine brows furrowed - what the fuck happened? He turned his head back again, but when he did.. Koel was gone. Shit! he cursed. He tried to cast out a mental call to his friend, but.. Nothing. Nothing at all.

His breath was coming faster now, panic rising like bile in his throat, and the small canine stood alone, frozen in the madness and ash and rain.

Enigma leaned on his shovel, watching and listening to the North people. None of them seemed to know where they all were either. Many were dazed and confused, some tried to take charge, others trying to see if they can find loved ones. Some... Made it sound like they and/or their loved ones had risen from the grave. How was that possible? The goddess of death he knew would never allow such a thing. Were they dealing with a new set of gods? Looking up at the spire, he pondered if such a thing was possible. It made sense, in a way. Half the world wasn't on fire. He could see the sky. It was mostly clouded, but even that was a sight for sore eyes. And then the resurrected people. Enigma then slung his shovel over his shoulder in one fluid, practiced movement. He needed to get to the bottom of this, whatever it was. The spire looked like the obvious thing to check out first. And so he turned his back on it. The obvious answer was never the right answer. enigma monarch of the apocalypse

When the Princess- the servant girl, explained what she last remembered, Enya and Moses exchanged glances. Perfetti was aware of her situation when that event occurred. While he hadn't converted and risen ranks by then, word got around soon enough. Something about a Storm Guard reporting a successful rescue for a missing citizen. It must've been her. He never learned the name of who had brought her home, but it had to have had a significant impact on her. If she remembered it, then it happened. Pure and simple. When she had voiced her own confidences in the situation, the soldier found himself relaxing a bit. At least she had enough trust in her fellow people to find her, ensure her safety. And if a Storm Guard was amongst their ranks their chances at success were surely higher. Yet it was not the day she had met her fate, and Moses would not have heard it had he not saved that young soldier from suicide. What was his name again? It had completely slipped his mind. Yes, there was indeed a wave of sadness that had rippled through the settlement at the death of this young woman, this Amaya. She was of much favor, and while she did not find favor with many, the ones who did lavish their love and care upon her were the only ones that mattered. In her passing, the Prince was a broken man, shattered because he would never come to love this young girl in the way he wished to, as a husband. Moses' eyes began to mist up at thinking about that, how he too had shared that devastation. He grew terribly silent, and it wasn't until Enya placed a hand on his shoulder that he turned his attention to her. Worry readily appeared on her face at her husband's distraught state. "What's wrong?" she inquired. He felt a single tear fall from his eye and travel down his face, and he quickly wiped it away and warded off her concerns. "Oh, uhm, nothing," he answered. He then turned back to the albino girl, and seeing her catch her shivering arms made him aware of his surroundings. It was a little on the colder side, the cutting wind not helping much. Considering what the girl was wearing, it was no surprise she was holding herself tighter. Without a second thought, he unfastened his outermost leather jacket and swung it around her back, fitting it onto her and settling it onto the girl's tiny shoulders. "Sorry. I know it's a little big," a small grin left his face, and Enya could only smile at her husband. It was amazing to her how naturally this came to him. He continued his thoughts after a short pause. "If that's all you remember, that's quite alright. Your memory would be better than ours." Moses-Joel Men of Honor are hard to Find

One moment Alistair was home, resting. Another he awoke to the sight of his father sitting against a desk, Alistair himself, seated on a chair across from him.

"You may find this difficult to process...but it's not what it seems. Nothing is. You can't stay long, just enough for me to give you this." His father reached over to hand Alistair a mask...a peculiar looking mask that appeared mechanical in nature, but held special properties. His father smirked as he watched Alistair's puzzled expression.

"I will find you again son. For good. I promise. You mind that mask til then...took me years to perfect it." He paused looking over his son, his elegant beard hiding the emotional purse of his lips.

"It meant everything...Watching you grow up...seeing the man you have become. I love you, Alistair...Never question that. One day, it will make sense...the sacrifice your mother and I made...I will make sense of it...One day...but it won't it be today. Time's up...You have to go. I'll be watching you...always watching son..."

In another blink Alistair woke with a startled breath as he sat up. The spire in the distance, the isolation and dread that fell over his surroundings. "Father..." he whispered to himself, looking around. Voices, distant in the horizon. Alistair looked down at the mask held firmly in his grip...proof it was no mere vision.

Alistair pushed himself up, shaking his head. Fingers digging into his dark curls in a daze as he began walking, following the voices. He arrived in time to see Devrum embrace Ashetta to which he sighed, looking and finding Vervain , Ronin , Remi , Celosia Mimora ....familiar faces in what appeared to be a previous life.

Relief fell over him as he slowly approached. "We...we are together again
...that is what matters. This place...holds no echo...it's absent
..but we're together...that is what matters."

He looked to Vervain and nodded his head. "Hello mum..." he smiled sheepishly before approaching Ashetta as Devrum stepped away. "No matter what...we always seem to find eachother don't we?"

He asked with a faint chuckle as he embraced his wife in a tight embrace, breathing in her familiar scent.

Overwhelmed would have been putting it lightly. Ashe couldn't quite bring herself to speak at her mother's words - she didn't know where Dev was either. She cast her eyes about her, watching as Koel called for volunteers, watched as Ronin began delegating. She glanced at Celosia with the sound of her voice, and she gave the redhead a tight-lipped smile. "Hey, Cel," she said back breathlessly. She couldn't deny that she was grateful to see her.. grateful to see many of her friends, like Remi and Koel and Ronin. Still... others were missing. 'Alistair, please,' she cast out again, pulling with a little bit more force on the bond. Where was he? At the sound of a bark, Ashe snapped her head around find the source and.. her breath left her as Devrum scooped up Vervain with a kiss, and Ashe nearly collapsed under the weight of relief. The second he released her mother, she was crushed into his arms, and gods she didn't care that her back cracked with his strength - Ashetta threw her arms around Devrum and buried her face into his chest, squeezing her eyes shut against whatever this place was. "Papa," she murmured. He was okay. He was safe. She picked her head up finally to look at him, electric eyes shining. Her family was together. She felt his voice rumble deeply from his chest as he questioned where they were - it seemed none of them knew. Ashe tried to dive into her memory when her mother mentioned it was fuzzy... and a deep feeling of unease crept over her. She'd always had a near-perfect memory, eidetic. It was the reason she'd made such a great messenger in Northaven. Now she could barely think of where she was before she was here. Had she been dozing on the roof? On her way back from seeing Celosia? Had she been bounding on four paws through the Untamed Lands? She couldn't pin it down, and she felt a prickling up her spin. 'Alistair, please, where are you?' Then without any mental answer, she heard his voice. Ashe locked her eyes on him immediately, her heart suddenly galloping in her chest as Alistair materialized through the rain and dust. Together. They were all together, everyone she'd found and build some kind of life with, they were together. The second Devrum released her, Ashe surged forward with a sound that was something between a laugh and a sob, near throwing herself at her husband with her arms wrapped tightly around him. "You're okay," she breathed. She refused to let him go, assuring herself that he was safe, that she didn't need to tear apart whatever hell-hole this was searching for him. She would have, she would have obliterated anything in her path to save him, to keep him safe and unharmed. But he was there, he was whole. Ashe only pulled back enough to look up at him, her eyes rapidly glancing over every inch of him, assessing him, searching for damage: there was nothing amiss. Something was in his hand, but she didn't look. She only cared to lean up and claim a brief kiss from him, assuring herself that he was really there. When she pulled away, she kept her hand over his arm, and she offered him a soft smile. "Fucking answer me next time," she scolded, referring to her calls to him down the bond. Ashe looked away from him finally, casting her gaze to the chaos that was slowly starting to sort itself out. She bit the inside of her lip, her brow furrowing. Whatever place this was, whatever happened to Northaven, they needed to survive if they were going to figure out what the fuck was going on. She looked back at Devrum, Vervain, and Alistair, even to Celosia and Remi. "We should help," she said. "Shelter, food, water, defenses, figuring this place out. We need to help." ashetta it's live or die my way.

Archebold awoke...away from the voices. Away from everyone. His back lay back against a large boulder as his legs stretched from the seated position. He awoke but made no motion to open his eyes. He listened, listened to the faint footsteps that approached him. Listened to the muttered voices...young voices. Male...Female...hunger was great...it felt like ages since he splurged over his rations.

He could feel hands tuck beneath his chin and rest his head back, his hand still holding a lifeless grip to his ivory walking stick. It wasn't until the male of the pair attempted to lift the walking stick, when Archebold shot open his hollow black eyes. A hand shot forward and clasped the young man's neck, cutting off his air and plea for release. Archebold turned to the female as his eyes dilated.

A fanged grin was given as he surveyed the baron lands which surrounded him, he observed the spire and the faint familiarity he felt toward it...he recalled a vision Eloise had painted for him...and such recalled a spire stretching out of the earth. "Where...am I...what is this beautiful place?" Archebold asked as his eyes slowly fell to the scared young woman as he toyed with the young man's neck. He offered her a look of sympathy and understanding.

"Dear child...simply answer the question...and I'll release him. You'll be free..."

She attempted to search for the words but they were choked into her throat. The slight hesitation caused a snapping sound as Archebold held the limp body of the young man, his head hanging loosely in his hand before being discarded to the ground. Archebold slowly rose to his feet.

"Don't disgrace your end by attempting to run...stay...embrace the eternity that awaits. I don't have the answers I seek...but...discovery...discovery brings wonder and adventure does it not?" He smiled before taking a sudden step toward her, a finger against her lips to stifle her scream. "Shhhhh....I haven't even begun..." Fangs slithered from his mouth before he lunged toward her neck.

Silence fell...their bodies burned to light the darkness which consumed him. Drained of life and substance, their withered corpses burned brilliantly. "Did you foresee this Eloise?" He asked quietly to himself as he stepped out of a nearby cave and stared out toward the spire.

"Is this the vision you built for me?"

Celosia was nowhere to be found...none were. Did she miss him? Did any of them? The wall was gone, and every bit of distaste that god-forsaken place brought to his lips. Archebold was free. Free from the tyranny of the originals, and the weakness of his general...he was bound no longer...bound he was dangerous but contained...the shackles of his race...broken...fingers tapped along the lion's head knob as he kept his eyes on the spire...he closed his eyes and for a moment, he could swear he heard the hearts of the flock beating...beating in unison...a beacon for him.

Placing Theea on the ground, Kalt held the little girl's hand firmly, as she swung around in boredom. The girl didn't seem to understand what was going on, and Kalt thanked the gods for that. His gaze darted around those who gathered, grip on his pack tightening and brows furrowing as he took everything in.

He liked it. He liked the feeling of chaos, the disturbance that hanged in the air like a constant threat...the freedom. He was completely free here, never again to worry about the masked shadow looming over him or Ashetta, though it was more of a threat to her in Northaven. Under the ashen sky and in the sudden rain that appeared, Kalt was finally able to breathe.

"Papa, puppy," Theea sang, pulling on his hand.

As Kalt looked in the direction she was pointing, the girl slipped out of his grasp. "Theea," he snapped with a frown. A soft sigh escaped him, as he saw her waddling over to a shaking canine. His eyes searched the animal, noticing first that it was a coyote, not a dog, and second no band on its leg. He jogged after the girl, scooping her up in his arms again and slowly approaching the shaking animal.

As he drew closer, he noticed that there was blood on its pelt, making him slightly more cautious, but as he observed, he saw that the injury was stitched. That made it a more likely jump that this coyote was a shifter. Kalt crouched down, letting Theea approach again.

"Slowly, star. Don't scare it." He dug into his bag and removed a grey blanket, swinging the bag over his shoulder again. Theea walked over to the coyote with wide, blue eyes and a curious smile, then Kalt followed, throwing back his hood and crouching when he got closer. If allowed, he would drape the blanket over the shaking canine. "I'm Kalt," he said with a crooked smile, touching the girl's hand. "This is Theea. Are you okay?"

Dodge

Dodge’s eyes were flickering through the gloom as he crouched lower to the ground and shivered, but at least the rain didn’t feel half bad on his back. Five bleedin’ hells though, what even happened to his back? He didn’t remember stitches, or even getting hurt in the first place. But.. he’d been home, hadn’t he? He hadn’t been at the Outpost anymore… He was trying to connect a puzzle, but it seemed like pieces were missing. The coyote’s ears folded back as he tried to think, just fuckin’ think Dodgey, but the approach of someone small stole his attention.

He blinked, and one ear swiveled forward as a little girl, a toddler, materialized from the rain and ash. She was a cute little bugger - black hair and bright blue eyes and all that. He tilted his head, tongue lolling to the side as a man emerged from the dust and ash and scooped up the little one. He crouched lower then, his jaws clamping shut as he looked up from low to the ground. He didn’t know this one, and he didn’t know this place that reminded him too much of the front lines in Northwind.

The little girl was put back down though, and the guy was talking nice enough, gave him a blanket even. His breathing slowed, but he couldn’t seem to manage his heart, even as he feebly wagged the end of his tail at the smiling little girl. Theea. He glanced his eyes from her to the man when he spoke as he carefully sat back on his haunches. He glanced over his shoulder, to his back at the question of whether or not he was okay, and he turned back with a tilted head and a perplexed gaze. He hadn’t the foggiest clue if he was okay or not.

The faint scent of cinnamon drifted through the rain, and he blinked. He broke his eyes away from the pair and lifted his nose to the air, breathing in deeply the familiar smell. Why was it familiar? There was a flicker of blonde hair in his memory.. The smell of the infirmary. Isla! She would know how he got hurt.

In a flash, there was an impish young man sitting in the dirt with his arms wrapped loosely around his knees. He wore nothing but brown trousers, shoes, and thick white bandaging wrapped around his middle. Fresh red was splotching the white over his back. Warm brown eyes flicked to the little girl, then to the man, and he flashed them a lopsided smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. ”Name’s Dodge,” he greeted, his voice steadier than he expected it to be. He managed a wink for the little girl and then he cast his gaze outwards once more.

There! The young man perked up as he caught a flash of gold and a familiar face. ” Isla !” he called suddenly. Dodge nearly lurched forward to his feet, but he was immediately halted by the warning of pain that lashed down his spine. He let out a grunt and then glanced sheepishly at the man. ”Gotsta get ta the doctor - Isla,” he said in a tight voice. ”Mind givin’ a pooch a hand, aye?”

Kalt

Kalt smirked as the coyote was suddenly replaced with a young man, though Theea was a little more shocked at the change. She nearly stumbled backwards, and Kalt put his hand on her back without a word.

"Good to meet you, Dodge," Kalt said with a nod. With the you man's wink, Theea grinned and looked up at her father curiously, shyness suddenly evident in her.

Isla... Kalt knew that name, though he hadn't ever formally made her acquaintance. Made sense why the coyote was all stitched up, though. She was a doctor, as far as he had heard, and Dodge just confirmed that.

As Dodge grunted in pain, the assassin grinned. "Come on," he said, getting to his feet. He offered the man a hand and would help to pull him to his feet if it was accepted. Kalt might've clapped him on the back and told him to toughen up, but he didn't know him quite well enough to do so. Besides, that wouldn't have gone over well considering the injury was on his back.

He lifted Theea onto his shoulders and nodded to the man. He wouldn't leave Dodge until he was sure he was with the doctor, as he wasn't sure just how bad his injury was without looking at it. Of course Kalt could very well have treated Dodge himself, as he had all of the education - and likely a little more - than Isla did because of his experience in the Guild, but it wasn't like he had references to hand over.

"What happened to you, huh?" Kalt asked the man, raising a brow curiously.

Isla this won't hurt a bit Isla had managed to set up a small space where people could find her, having torn part of her dress and grabbing a dry, long twig to make a sort of flag to wedge between two rocks. It fluttered wildly in the rain, a little white signpost for the medic. Through the hubbub it was practically impossible to hear much of anything, but there was something about one's name that always caught the attention. And Isla heard hers across the ashen ground where they'd arrived like the peal of a bell, and a quick glance and a few moments of confusion and... there he was. "Dodge!" she called back at the sight of him, looking instantly worried. As the coyote and a stranger she didn't recognise approached, Isla would move forward instantly to examine the young man, dismayed at the state of him. "Oh, no..." She frowned at the bloodied bandages, shaking her head and thinking nothing of shrugging out of her coat so she could draw it around him and keep him warm. "I haven't got much with me, but as soon as there's a dry place to sit, I'll take a look at you, okay?"

More people were beginning to arrive that Mimora liked. Devrum was here. And so was Alistair. If Archebold was here as well, then pretty much everyone she liked would be here. That would certainly make the transition to this odd place easier. Where was here anyways? Nobody seemed to know. She yawned as she pondered wht was happening. Okay, so a lot of people, including her, just appeared to this place. Some had come back from teh dead. Was it a super powerful conjurer tha did this? An illusionist? Mimora held up her magic viewing stone to check. There were no signs of this being an illusion. However, all the magic... Was suddenly different. Peering through the stone donut down at her hands, she noticed her own magic was different too. Everyone she looked at now had changed magic, if they had any to begin with. Whatever was going on, was probably more serious than she thought... mimora the lily of the water

Dodge flashed his best grin, glancing between the little girl and the man who must have been her father. The guy was smiling, and five hells, the relief at friendly faces was almost overwhelming, even if it was a scary looking guy with a face tattoo and a shy little toddler that mistook him for a puppy. Who got face tattoos anyways? Dodge was one for theatrics but... he iwardly cringed - keep the needles away from his face, thanks.

Dodge gratefully accepted the offered help, but he released a long hiss at the effort of rising to his feet. Dodge's anxious heart rate was settling into something a little more steady now, though he shivvered as rain rolled down bare skin, soaking into his bandages. He tilted his head, sopping hair falling to one side as the friendly stranger lifted that litle girl up on his shoulders.. and then he carefully started leading them to where he'd seen the familiar shine of honeyed hair.

Dodge frowned deeply at the presented question, his brow creasing as he stared hard at the ground before them. "I dunno," he finally answered honestly. It unsettled him - the wound on his back was large and neatly stitched, though it bled just barely from his little outburst. That meant it had to be bad, yea? He didn't remember getting hurt... he remembered Isla though. Remembered her face appearing in front of his while was laying face down...

The coyote glanced up at the pair. "Me memory's a little mussed, aye?" he quipped. "Ye don't appen to know what the fu....fuzz is goin' on?" He glanced at the little girl with a sheepish smile to the man before he looked up at the toddler again. "Wot 'bout you, eh? You bring us all here for a playdate? Alls ye gotta do is ask, I's real good at fetch."

As they neared the tent, suddenly a voice that was like a gods-damned angel's rang out and carried his name. He perked up and grinned with relief as Isla greeted them, but the worry on her face twisted his chest. He wasn't anyone that needed to be worried after. He shrugged a little at her observation of his wounds, and while he tried to protest the offered coat, he swore the doc was more stubborn than a certain grouchy old bird he knew. "I's alright," he promised her with a lopsided smile. Really it only hurt especially when he moved - it was easy to ignore the ache and even forget it if he was still. "But uh... ye don't appen to remember.. how I got hurt, do ye?"

Then he looked over at the man and the little girl and grinned. "Oh! This is..." then he trailed off, pursed his lips, and crossed his arms over his chest. "Oy, I ain't even got yer names!"

Kalt