Knights of Anathaeum the Fantastical and Feral

[Kaarle]

The squire was free, gasping for breath, but there was no relief for it. The beast shrieked as he kicked it in what he assumed was the shin of a hind limb, his heel pushing it just a bit further away from his yet struggling company. It staggered, swiping at him in turn, which he met with his sword. The black claws struck sparks out of steel, once, twice, palmful of knives slicing at empty air as he stepped aside with a held breath.

It released from his chest in a startled huff as something suddenly caught him, physically ordering him make way. At the end of that firm grip was fury, writ clear on the stare that bore into the beast like a hyperconcentrated sunbeam. It sought to scorch, burning hot, and beyond him was it to stand in its way.

In a thrash of metal and limbs, the she-orc made manifest hell upon their adversary. He couldn’t but watch, equal parts stunned silence and hesitant admiration. From within the shack came a call, but he hadn’t the capacity to care what it meant, his own heart much too quickened within his chest. It hammered, despite the squire’s murderous intent at subduing the most immediate threat.

So, the moment she appeared to falter, attention torn from her task that’d been going hideously well, he stepped in on instinct. Whatever angry words he had died within a snarl, merciless blade shoving forth for the monster's chest, a twist of the wrist slipping it past the ribs.

Gruki Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas Hector

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

What felt like tongues and riddles, the spell she had learned came easily to her, drawing the darkness and rot towards her. To convene with Death felt as if she were wading treacherous waters, but her shadows were a gloom she became accustomed to. She trusted the darkness they provided her all these years, trusted their wisps and umbra as it were a life boat. Steering her to True North, away from the seductive iniquity that was the Pursuit of Death.

She proved to herself time and time again she was capable of wielding it, even now as she lured the surface of the hex towards her. It was as if she were sucking the poison from one's wound; the way the polluted aura thinned to a string and tied itself to Saskia, her spell weaving it to wind around the spindle that was her thumb.

The Shadow Knight borrowed the strength in Hector's spell. The dusker capitalised onto Byanka's use of the Loch, all to work in ridding the creature of the hex it was cruelly given.

Yet the creature turned on her, advancing towards her.

Saskia stepped back, away from the golden line that bolstered her casting.

Shit.

Blindly, her feet moved to seek out another line, another crossroads upon the ground.

Gruki Byanka Valkas Hector Kaarle

 

[Byanka Valkas]

Byanka could hear (and feel) Gruki's rage from outside the shack, but she forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Saskia needed her. This... monster needed her. Despite her efforts, the creature still had the wherewithal to focus on Saskia and approach, albeit slowly. It forced Saskia to step back, away from the line supporting her magic.

For Saskia's step back, Byanka took a step forward. She took another one, drawing ever closer to the hideous creature before them. Finally she managed to catch it's attention, drawing its gaze away from Saskia. She did not know if the distraction would help Saskia but she had to do as much as she could.

The creature's mind was overly simple, but Byanka suspected that was just the surface. And the longer she worked, the more she realized how true that was. She could feel it's pain and confusion and even anger as it's head turned to face Byanka. She was only two steps away from the creature now. Her sword remained sheathed and she extended both her hands towards the creature, in a gesture of peace. Reaching for the human beneath the monster.

Gruki Hector Kaarle Saskia Kerraelas

 

[Gruki]

The creature gasped, jerking as Kaarle's blade found its way betwixt ribs. A bony limb nudged Gruki, made her retreat a step. Whatever power had flooded her before was now gone, replaced by a queasy feeling that bade her gorge to rise and her stomach to rumble.

'Is it-' She gagged, stumbled away. The smell had returned with vengeance, leaking from the cuts and bruises she and Syr Kaarle had inflicted.

Blood stained her knuckles, speckled her brow. Did I do this? Gruki wondered, horrified by the monster's wounds, how many there were. Her boot caught something sharp, something shiny. Bending down, she retrieved her sword from the muck, wiped it clean in the crease of her elbow. Syr Kaarle held the monster transfixed, his own steel gleaming.

'Is it dead?' Gruki asked as she edged closer, her weapon held low. Poised. 'Have the others...'

Hector Kaarle Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas

 

[Hector]

Fingers sprawled and flexed into a cage of bone and flesh that held there in the will of fire, transcribed into the earth and fed with the will of life, Hector pointed his blade-wand down toward the sigil of the north, the edge of his heirloom blade traced with the the golden light of his heart's flame, and he flicked the blade forward with a turn of his wrist, and thrust it true toward Saskia.

The golden lines that spread from the locus he had drawn, traced out further. Like the wyld branches of verdant growth, the magick sprout and bloomed and reached to touch the heel of his fellow knight's stance.

Before Byanka, the creature seemed almost to writhe. Twist. A thing born from foul and wretched hate. Long past. Long left to fester, rot, and stew into the soil. A hex as old and known to the lands as They of the Chrysanthemums. Mayhap, older still.

It began to weep. Blubber. Its agony, sounding like the man it once was.

Hector's heart pounded, fierce in his chest. His breath let out, nearly caught afire as the lines of the locus burned bright with the web of maigcks.

Byanka's burden, well as Saskia's, bared down on his shoulders as he held the weave of their spells entwined.

Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas Gruki Kaarle

 

[Kaarle]

The blade barely met resistance as it sunk in, a softness of rot in every inch of flesh that became apart. Like the inside of an insect, held together and given shape by a tough exterior. Bone crunched as he twisted the blade, half just for the experimental pleasure of it, forcing a greater gap betwixt the ribs. Cartilage tore and the creature grumbled, a sound from low in the throat accompanied by a dejected clacking of the jaw as teeth struck nothing.

He withdrew his sword as a clawed limb came at him, slow enough to hurt neither himself nor the squire. Swatting it away with the flat of the blade, he retaliated by a firm heel kick in what he assumed was a knee, forcing the being to return to the ground wherein Gruki’s onslaught had previously left it. From there, it’d not rise again if he could help it.

Planting both hands on the blade, he stabbed again for good measure, driving steel first through the torso and then to the pit of the neck, yanking sideways to cut tendon. The head fell lopsided, willing him finally to just stand, listen and watch what seemed to grow still, the lone sound of a wet growl emanating ever fainter.

Like a call across a pond at night, wherein two are drifting further apart from one another, oarless. His face remained twisted with disgust, at both the stench and squelch of a settling corpse. Is it dead?

“ I don’t know. “ He responded honestly to Gruki’s question, fist yet coiled about the hilt and stare daring to but glance at the hut, spotting a shimmer through a loose hanging shutter. A golden light. And a lack of screaming or other commotion.

“ The others— Suppose they are casting a spell of some sort. “ He shrugged, taking a little step away from the heap at his feet.
What was that about a hex and— something. Suppose they could’ve gone and seen to the situation, but nothing about him suggested he had the intention to.

“ They’re knights, all three. Sounds to me like they’re managing it within, so why don't we watch their backs out here, in the meanwhile. Round the perimeter. “

Gruki Saskia Kerraelas Hector Byanka Valkas

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

Saskia became a spider perched in a web of magic, weaving that silken thread still, even as the man turned creature turned their attentions to Byanka. She was grateful for the reprieve, and more so once Hector casted a greater web to reach her.

The Shadow Knight's magic grew, a power that seemed to fill the small interior. Saskia was washed in gold, flickering off from her frame like fiery rays of sun before it darkened like the night. The hand that reached for the hex's string curled and wrapped it taut around her wrist, giving it a good tug. Such a demand called for the creature's attention once more, but Kerraelas met it's ugly and pained stare with a might she learned and nurtured growing up at the Astenvale Monastery. What some may call stubborn, Saskia knew it to be her true determination.

Her spell was now wrapping around her hand and wrist, the string that was once silver now turned dark, thickened like a coagulation of rotted flesh. Her boots pressed firmly onto the floor, strength and might bolstered by the ley lines provided by Hector, Saskia could feel the last stubborn tugs of a deep rooted hex resist her spell. The Pursuit of Death was one many did not think Saskia would excel in, but her shadows gave her great insight. They enveloped her, cloaking her from view as they came to stand beside her, wisps reaching out to assist her in tugging the spell free and catching the hex inside her web of magicks.

It seared hot in her bare hards, and Saskia hissed at the burns and the pain shooting down her back. Quickly, she conjured shadows to swallow the hex, in the shape of a smooth and polished onyx stone the size of a pebble, something for study later.

Saskia fell to her knees the moment all her magicks ceased, her hands held palm up to show the nasty burns that were inflicted upon her flesh.

Byanka Valkas Hector Gruki Kaarle

 

[Byanka Valkas]

The three knights worked together, magic aiding magic aiding magic, and after much effort on all of their parts, it was done.

Saskia dropped to her knees, as did the man-turned monster-turned man once more. Byanka stumbled at the sudden release of the magic, moving towards Saskia. She too fell to her knees besides her fellow dusker, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder.

"Do you need my help?" Byanka knew it was pointless to ask if she was ok, because she very cleary wasn't and Byanka knew that Saskia would know what she was referring to- Byanka could ease her pain if Saskia wanted her to. Even as the beginnings of a headache crept forth.

The monster who was no longer a monster lay twitching on the ground before the two young women. Byanka glanced over her shoulder at Hector, wondering what they should do with it now. There was still another creature outside of the shack that the others were fighting to subdue, and she didn't know how well or bad it was going.

Saskia Kerraelas Gruki Kaarle Hector

 

[Gruki]

'Some sort of spell, aye!' Gruki could feel the magicks being channelled within- could understand them, to a degree. But without being in the room, she wouldn't know for sure just what was happening until it happened, and by then it would be far too late for her to intervene. Not that she needed to.

They're knights, all three, Kaarle had reminded her, sounds to me like they're managing... Then, a suggestion. Or was it an order?

'Round the perimeter, aye!'

Squelching about in the mud, the she-orc fell into step alongside Syr Kaarle. Her weapon, broad and bloodied from the previous scrap, came to rest on her pauldron as they walked, eyes peeled for signs of further trouble.

The sounds coming from the hut dogged their steps, sending tendrils of fear crawling down her spine.

What in the seven hells is going on in there? she thought, her skull thumping with every loping stride. 'Excuse me, Syr Kaarle?' Wincing, Gruki shot a concerned glance at her knight, her eyes glazing over as she blinked, fighting back the pain. 'Um, do you know where my helmet went to? Only I seem to have misplaced it... somewhere.'

Hector Kaarle Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas

 

[Hector]

Voices came muffled to his ears. So full of the crackle of flame. So full of the rush of the wind, and the bluster of storms. A sea of shadows, against a sky of light.

Then not.

Empty.

Gone.

Only his breath sounded in his ears. His heart. Eyes blind with the golden white of Flame. A landscape of ash before him where a cabin once stood. Spirits, technicolor as they burned, bound to him by chord. Molten and raw.

A pulse of his heart.

That too was gone.

Sword shook in his hand, and fell from his grasp with a clatter. He fell to his knee and braced against the earth as he drew in hungry breaths.

A cough came from his parched throat. Sweat rained down his brow, dripped to the floor and pubbled beneath him. Whilst it hissed and steamed against the cold earth.

"Drained, in rebound," he let out.

Quick phrase, meant to communicate his status whilst in action.

Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas Gruki Kaarle

 

[Kaarle]

He kept the pace unhurried as they went, eye trained on every shadow and dark corner, the spindly thickets and shrubs that waved in the wind. Branches would snap and crackle, grass crunching underfoot, every fiber upon him laced with lingering tension. The red flare had faded out a mere moment before, giving way anew to the pale, cold darkness of the night.

Gruki was making chatter, in her signature way that left not a thought unsaid, but at least it was reliably honest. He glanced at her sidelong at the mention of her helm, expressionless.

“ You used it to bludgeon the beast, wherein you must’ve promptly lost it in the tall grass or shrubs of the yard. I couldn’t really see— “ He muttered, trailing off as his ear perked to the sound of hastened steps coming down the path. From the village, a flash of armour visible past the lilacs.

“ Could be you dented it, using so much force. Whatever came over you, just then, one needs wonder? “ He continued, slowing down his stride as a figure came to view, accelerating at the sight of them.

“ Syr Leinas, Squire Gruki. We saw the flare, what’s— “ Spoke the fellow knight, Syr Hoffren, inquisitive as their stare took in the both of them.

“ Happened upon a bit of a situation. But it is under control now. “ Kaarle affirmed, tracing the stare that went for the hut.

“ I see. But this is not whom you left with — Where are Syrs Kerraelas, Rookheart and Valkas? “

Gruki Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas Hector

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

There was no use hiding her pain now, not when her palms were angry burns that brought tears to her eyes. The pain made her whimper, nodding furiously at Byanka's offer. Pained tears painted silver down her reddened cheeks, a result of using all her strength and will to extract the hex. Something so arcane and complex proved challenge to the Shadowed Knight, but she had excelled.

Saskia saw Hector fall to his knees too, drained, but in the same position as herself. All that casting, all that might on keeping their magicks going to aide the...

"No... help him." She could stomach the searing pain for a few moments longer.

The creature, now receding into the make of a man, writhing and convulsing as unnatural change was undone. The man was older, weakened immensely by the hex he had harbored for a mere few minutes, but enough to leech at his life. He was not the picture of health, closely resembling a corpse now that the interior came to rest.

"Medic!" She called out, amber eyes staring at her ruined hands. Behind her, a swirling orb of shadows contained the hex. The onyx stone at the heart of the shadows, seemingly darker than the dusker's magick encasing it.

Byanka Valkas Hector Gruki Kaarle

 

[Byanka Valkas]

Byanka was just starting to weave peace to ease Saskia's pain when her fellow dusker shook her head. Byanka paused, lifting her hand from Saskia's shoulder and turning to the man on the ground.

She moved a little closer, slowly extending her left hand. He looked on the verge of death, and pain was etched across his features in hard lines. Byanka's hand came to rest on the side of his head, which was damp with sweat and blood and loch knew what other fluids.

She let her eyes drift shut as his pain become clearer, more real to her. She retrieved the beginnings of the spell she had started to weave for Saskia, and finished it with her hand on the man's head.

He would not live.

Though the hex had been drawn from him, it had taken with it too much of his life essence, and he was barely holding on. Pain was the only thing he knew. Until Byanka's magic took effect.

His movements stilled, and the lines in his face eased out. His breathing slowed until it stopped competely, and there was something like a faint smile on his face in death.

Byanka sat back on her heels, withdrawing her hand and cradling it in front of her chest. The beginnings of a headache taunted her but the loch still lingered, a strange aura of peace about the little shack.

Saskia Kerraelas Gruki Kaarle Hector

 

[Gruki]

'I... don't quite know myself, in all honesty.' Desperate times called for desperate measures, and Syr Hector's magicks were nothing if not potent. 'I just... didn't want to die,' she explained, brushing a loose lock of hair from her eyes. 'I really didn't want to die.' Shivering at the memory, Gruki let her blade hang low in her fist.

What had she been thinking, in that brief moment between life and death? Was it of her brother's face? Her mother's?

A figure appeared from the dark. His face swathed in shadow, Syr Hoffren was nothing like her brother; big, bald, he bore a nasty scar that ran from the top of his forehead to the cleft of his chin. How he had earned such a wound was a mystery. But he looked tough. Real tough.

When he asked after the rest of his brethren, Gruki answered.

'Inside, syr, dealing with the last of the blight-cursed.' I hope it's the last one, anyway. She had witnessed enough bloodshed for one night. 'Syr Kaarle thought it best to-' There was a yell from inside the hut. Frozen in place, Gruki turned to her knights for orders.

'Don't just stand there, girl!' Hoffren barked, his scarred features drawn tight. 'Inside! Now!'

'Right! Right...' Running over to the hut, her head pounding, Gruki stomped up the steps and through the ruined doorway. For a moment, she thought she had made a mistake, rushing in. But then it dawned on her that it was standard operating procedure to neutralise the threat before calling for aid. Which was what had happened here, apparently.

'Syrs! What-' Her voice died in her throat. Taking in the scene, Gruki blinked, readjusted. Byanka was over by one victim, tending to his needs. It was Gruki's job to tend to her knights.

'Ancestor's breath, what happened to your hands?!' She asked Saskia as she took a knee by her side, swinging her medical satchel around for ease of access. Tincture, bandages, disinfect the wound and bind. She ran through the steps Syr Josai had taught her.

'Syr Hector! Are you well?'

Hector Aarno Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas

 

[Hector]

Like candle flame, pinched betwixt forefinger and thumb, the man's life went out.

Drained and shuddering as he was.

Hector had still felt it.

His own heart felt empty. Felt cold as he held tight to feelings. Not the gooseflesh that covered his skin. Not the cold sweat that coated his gambeson, or the linen shirt there beneath.

A pulse. A heart beat. Warmth. Shared and tangled. Stars in the bright of her eyes. Laughs across the table. Grins from behind visors.

Life.

The state of rebound was a dangerous one. Magick, with all its power, came at a cost. And whilst their order trained their Magickers to wield its weave with efficiency and mindfulness, there was always a wickedness to the push and pulls of Magick. Like blazing fire. Like freezing water. Like the brambles and thorns of the wild.

Life and death were but hairs apart.

Breath. Breath. In, out.

He could not tell how much time had gone by since he'd dropped to his knee. His eyes wide to the plane of ash. The endless crackle and hiss of flame in his ears. There the farmer stood. Whole and sure. A gust, more pulse. Cool. It bade rest. And the blaze of the farmer's spirit turned to ash. Turned to soot. Became mud.

Hector breathed. Too quick still. Heart too fast.

Heavy steps which he felt through the earth beneath him. Gruki's voice. Sure and steadfast. Her presence like a stone to which his mind could grasp. Within which his soul could find shelter. For his magicks had not twined with hers.

"Gruki," he said through a grin, though his eyes still saw not but the pale grey fields of another plane. His breath still ragged. "D'yhave water?" he rasped.

Byanka Valkas Saskia Kerraelas Kaarle Gruki

 

[Kaarle]

With the squire gone, there were but the two of them left into the dead of night, that stretch of well-beaten path. He felt Syr Hoffren’s eyes upon himself, scrutiny, which he made a great effort to keep ignoring, stare trained at Gruki’s wake. The words exchanged within the hut were fainter therein, but loud enough that their content was clearly heard to whomever strained to listen. With naught else to do, silence hanging heavy betwixt, the both of them had.

He swallowed the whisper of a curse that threatened to escape him, shifting on heel. Syr Hoffren’s plate gave a pointed clatter as he straightened wearily, drawing breath in a way that boded ill.

“ I trust that ‘under control’ was hunch-based, rather than backed by empirical evidence. “ Despite being spoken matter of fact, the man’s face betrayed disappointment. The type that questioned, like he’d been personally wronged yet again. There was no response for it, which elicited a firmer tone as he continued.

“ Kaarle? “
“ I need not explain myself. You’re not my pursuant. “ He snapped, look whipping upwards to finally meet eyes with whom practically towered before him. Syr Hoffren rose a brow at his tone, unimpressed to the boot.
“ No, I’m something worse — Your fellow Sworn. An equal if you may, which gives me an amount of self-interest to question your callous disregard for the safety of your Kin. “
“ What am I — their keeper? Am I not to have faith in their competence? “
“ If that is what it is, you are exhibiting a reckless amount. You had plenty of— “

He cut the man off by rather loudly sheathing his blade and turning on heel, starting up the way back towards the village without another word. Left to glare at his distancing back, Syr Hoffren visibly resisted the will to raise his voice and deliver some select words, if only for he knew it a waste of his precious time. In an exhale, he headed the opposing direction.

By the time Syr Hoffren came to the doorframe, he'd fully regained composure, a calm authority about him as he eyed the room and then each occupying it in turn. From Hector and Saskia, both being tended to by the squire, he moved further to whom sat before a corpse.

“ Syr Valkas? “ He hovered a gloved hand over her shoulder, a shimmer in the vacant air betwixt as rejuvenation was willed past armour, something to remedy possible weariness and aches. The Loch rippled yet, billowing like frayed fabric in a summer breeze, a gravity to the contained curse that remained bound in a spell at Syr Kerraelas’ shoulder. He nodded at it, look falling on Saskia in turn.

“ Was that what’d done it all, then? “

Saskia Kerraelas Gruki Hector Byanka Valkas

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

Despite the pains she felt and stared helplessly upon, Saskia did not whimper or worry Gruki as she came to see the state her hands were in. It was nasty business dealing with hexes, and even as she had been careful to handle it, it had not been enough caution.

But the sniffling and the pained whimpers came as Gruki began her treatments, trying her best to keep herself strong as the she-orc carefully came to aid her injuries.

She was glad for Syr Hoffren's arrival and question; the young Knight glancing up with a brave face. "Perhaps. Fantastical magicks and ferals beasts, but this man... what if the other creatures we came upon were hexed too? Were able to turn human once more?"

It had been dark, and no mischief made known to them. Had Saskia sentenced these suffering beings to a death that c0uld have been saved from?


Byanka Valkas Gruki Hector Kaarle

 

[Byanka Valkas]

Byanka stayed by the body of the man. The silence in the shack seemed to ring in her ears, until she heard footsteps behind them. She did not need to turn around to know it was Gruki. So the monster outside was taken care of as well.

There were another's footsteps, and a hand hovered over her shoulder. She could see the Loch in front of her like a woven tapestry, shifting and bobbing as if floating on water. She lifted her head to look up at Syr Hoffren and absentmindedly wiped her nose. She did not need to look at her finger to know there was a spot of dried blood.

She returned her gaze to the dead man before her as Saskia spoke up. After a moment she stood, wiping her hands on her pants. Despite her headache and the blood on her hands and clothes, she felt remarkably calm.

Saskia Kerraelas Gruki Kaarle Hector

 

[Gruki]

'Y-yes, I do! One moment!' Cleansing and binding Saskia's hands with as much care as she could manage, the big she-orc shuffled on over to Hector. The young knight -she was still proud of him for that- looked more drained than injured, sapped of his energies by the magicks he had woven. To protect, as well as to bolster.

Gripping him beneath his arms, Gruki leaned him back against the side of the hut.

'Sit a moment,' she suggested- ordered, really. Pulling out her canteen, she pressed it into his hands, careful so as not to crush his fingers. 'Drink it slow! No gulping!' Urging herself to smile, she cast around at the others. 'Syr Saskia! Please, don't go touching anything! I did what I could, but your hands... well, they require the attention of someone better versed in the medicinal arts. M-meaning a doctor!'

Gods, I wish Josai were here.

Checking Hector over, she nodded, happy with what she was seeing. 'You'll live,' she smiled, thumped his shoulder. 'For now, anyway.' Holding out her hand, she took back her canteen, stood to make room for her knights. Saskia's words gave her cause to pause, reflect on all the night had sowed so far.

'Would they not have returned to their original forms when they were slain?' She offered, grimacing at the thought of having slain men, innocent men, and not blight-cursed beasts. 'The one Syr Kaarle slew outside was bigger than the ones we faced in the forest. Meaner. Mayhaps it was the first among them to fall foul of this... curse?'

Hector Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas (and our resident goatman, Kaarle )

 

[Hector]

A feint smile crested across the young knight's lips. "I hear ya," he said as he thumped against the wall. Little harder than he would have liked, but it did little to falter his smile.

His fingers came tight about the canteen.

Good piece. Earthenware, by its heft and feel. Not that his eyes could see it too clearly. His gaze still traced with the remnants of Flame's light. The whole of the room, cast in a cold blue. Save for the red bodies that stood about, like the embers of distant fires, too far to warm him any.

"Drink," he reminded himself, and lifted the canteen to his lips. Felt the cool splash of water against his lips. Spill across his chin. Panic quickened the beat of his heart. His hand adjusted, and he pulled the water away. Not a drop more spilled.

His breath was still irregular. "Sit a moment," he uttered to himself as the room went on.

A pulse of Loch, the mention of curses. Of dead men.

There in the fog of his mind. He could feel the weight of a memory. Too frayed to pull back towards the surface of his thought.

His brows pinched, and he huffed with his own frustrations. For all the help he had given. He burried the thought. Took another drink from the flask. Sat a while longer still.

Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas Kaarle Gruki

 

[Kaarle]

Syr Hoffren hummed his attention as answers and speculation were given, his look lingering on Byanka as she slowly rose from the floor. Despite her silence being nothing unusual, he yet would eye her with a tinge of concern, idly shuffling to offer a couple step’s breadth of space. In the cramped little hut, it ought to have been plenty.

” One can speculate whether their curses could’ve been reversed, but I’ll advise against hanging on to the possibility of it. ” He responded, giving everyone present a stern, if understanding once-over.

” We can’t have guilt for it — How, am sure, everyone simply dealt to the best of their ability. ” Landing a hand on the hilt of his sword, Syr Hoffren straightened a touch and cleared his throat. A gauntleted hand gestured at the contained hex as he approached Saskia, her injuries and pains all too clear.

” Speaking of — What do you plan to do with that? ” He inquired neutrally, though a suspicion bloomed in his stare. Towards what, he didn’t entirely know himself.

” Seeing as you haven’t simply dispelled it. ”

Saskia Kerraelas Byanka Valkas Hector Gruki

 

[Saskia Kerraelas]

As some of them discussed the what ifs of what they came to learn about the hexed creatures, Syr Hoffren brought to attention the shadowed sphere that flowed and kept the hexed stone afloat. There was no hesitance that the hex could do more harm, not when Kerraelas' shadows had never let her down and worked efficiently in keeping any hands from touching it lest they fall to the same crimes of foul and feral.

"I... I wish to study it." Colour rose to her cheeks, but it was shielded as locks of her pale hair fell forward. He was right, she could do such a simple task, but there was always that pull to find out more.

Shadows leapt from the corners of the room, moving to assist their Wielding Knight as she awkwardly began to take stance in standing, hands bandaged thoroughly that she would commend Gruki's work later when her mind was eased. In her brief moment of doubt for her own curiosity, the shadows swirling around the stone grew tighter and smaller, now swallowing the source of evil thought and intention. Dark veil fell, attaching to the depths of Saskia's shadow.

"There is always an origin to a hex, perhaps this one were made to play havoc... it may not be the last of these beasts these people will see, and so... we should be better in helping arm them with the knowledge that this may not be catching. Identifying it... so that history may not repeat here." Saskia gave Hoffren a weak smile, shoulder shrugging halfheartedly. An investigation she did not intend on burdening on others in the Order.

Looking about the room, taking in the damage done. Her companions coming off from battle gave her relief, that they had not suffered fatalities and she would see them again many more days from now. "We ought to find rest. Earned it, each of us." Giving a tentative flex of her hands, she winced with sharp breath and threw her gaze to Gruki with expectance the gentle soul would berate her to be more careful. Saskia shuffled past all present, hands hopelessly held up to keep them from knocking into anything. Heal first, then think on what it was they discovered out here...