Private Tales The Vicar of Suffering

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Selene's expression could have been carved from stone. Her eyes fixed on the boy who had spoken, only briefly flashing towards the other two in order to make sure they did not attempt to rush her as some sort of ruse.

The four soldiers who surrounded them had their blades drawn, the flames licking away from them. None of the four moved to rush the trio, nor did they move any closer to the clearing.

For a moment Selene considered, and then spoke. "The Chains."

Her off hand motioned towards the heavy manacles that had been tossed onto the floor behind the group. She watched as the Witch stiffened at the mention of the bindings, the feint green glow becoming stronger even as the water faded.

"I will listen when you are bound." The ground rumbled slightly as she spoke, though Selene gave no indication of anything else.
 
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Anima stood with her back to Luc and the orb of bale fire in her hand. An eager guardian. Watchful glances at the soldiers that she could see exposed by the light of the arcane fire.

It would be lovely, wouldn't it? For the soldiers to simply charge and for the Dreadlord to simply attack. This potential strife so illuminated like a star in the eternal blackened sky by the very fire the Dreadlord had conjured and thereby banished the night in so small a pocket of so vast an expanse of landscape. Death may yet come, but it was always coming, wasn't it? From the very first breath. Not so much to worry about. Rather, in the dying, what an exquisite ecstasy of emotion to be had, a passion most true of the oft-used phrase 'once in a lifetime', for the dying itself guaranteed it.

Yes. To fight and die side-by-side, arm-in-arm, hand-in-hand, soul-in-soul with one so loved.

Yes.

Once in a lifetime.

Wondrous.

But the Dreadlord seemed more intent on capture. And there a pity. But she could always change her mind. Bring forth the secluded war she so desired.

That, and Luc said in a hushed tone to follow his lead. And she would. Give herself over to him. Walk with him down this path of his choosing. Indulge in wherever it led.

So Anima extinguished the bale fire in her palm and raised her hands in the manner that Luc had done.

Following his lead.
 
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His gaze held a measure of confidence and though he didn't want to issue an unspoken challenge to the Dreadlord he found it equally important to appear as if he stood tall and unafraid of their situation.

"We abide... Though I believe we will not in these binds long after you hear what we offer." He answered in slow steady voice he hoped came off as sure as he wanted to feel.

Turning back to look his travel companions, blue eyes found Nayella first, a calming look issued, before he shifted to Anima. His gaze would hold hers for sometime, wondering if indeed he was making the right choice... And what was the right choice? The answer to that was easy... Which ever one allowed them to walk away with their lives. And so, Luc took the chains and shackled his companions before ending with himself.

Jaw set, he looked to the Dreadlord and then, bowed his head.

"May we talk now?"
 
She could see the veins in the Witches face practically burst as the shackles were placed around her wrists. Briefly the Dreadlord wondered why. Had the woman been a slave before? Something similar.

Selene allowed herself a second to muse.

A part of her wanted to end this, to use their current state as an opportunity to simply wipe them out. It would do well to return to the village with three corpses, but...she knew that living criminals would look much better.

Plus, perhaps what they had to say was interesting. "Speak."

She said with a voice of finality.

The flames around the clearing did not snuff out, though their light turned to a slow simmer that illuminated their surroundings.
 
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It was not so bad, was it? To be shackled by Luc. To give in to his desire and his intent and his actions and all the consequences that would spiral forth from it.

It brought them closer, didn't it? That merging of circumstance. They who now hung by the same thread.

Let it be what it would be.

Let Luc try his negotiation with the Dreadlord.

See what will come.

Anima kept her gaze on Luc even now as he had to turn his attention to the Dreadlord.

Eager to see.
 
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"Ared'luin... It's quite the jewel and it's a wonder it's been able to maintain it's neutrality between Vel Anir and Elbion." Luc spared little time in launch into talks.

They were all chained now, despite Nayella's obvious dislike, it was for the best. That was was he told himself as he looked up to the Dreadlord.

"We are on our way to Elbion... We have our reasons but I tell you this truth.. We have no love for the the city state nor it's College of Mages... This act today was nothing more then a precursor which is to befall Elbion... However, the calamities they are to face can put Vel Anir in a position to claim Ared'luin and much more.... That is what we offer if you allow us to continue."

And there it was... The offer... But would she accept? This desperate gamble depended on such. All they had to do was drop of pendants for what ever nefarious plot to take root. The small distraction here was to hide their existed... Now it seemed they were quickly getting involved in a plot that was taking it's own design. Hopefully Luc would be able to spin the existing tension between both countries against each other, but at what price? Their free at this moment could lead to war... Was it conceited to think their small act could cause such a thing? Well... not when Dreadlords were involved.
 
She mused for a second. "A proposition like that risks open war."

Not entirely true, unless this trio were capable of much more than they were letting on. Insurrection and terrorism was one thing, pushing the two City States to the bring of open war? Unlikely. The two had not fought for centuries.

Not that there wasn't something to this.

"Besides, Ared'luin is expecting the mage who destroyed their windmill." Her gaze swept across the trio, settling on Luc for a second. "But I suspect that wasn't you."

She smirked. "Not with your magic."

Selene waited a moment, then looked at Nayella. "You?"

"Perhaps you?"
The Dreadlord coaxed as her eyes fell on Anima. "Your actions would have to do better than presenting their criminal to them."
 
Intriguing.

That the Dreadlord seemed reluctant to the potential of war. Such did not mean that she did not still desire it, perhaps simply on differing terms. Under differing circumstances.

But the truth concerning their venture to Elbion was malleable, wasn't it? Neither they nor the Dreadlord knew what would happen when the pendants were delivered to The Midnight Dream. It could be said to be anything at this particular moment in time. It was at once a thing most insignificant and a thing most calamitous. Only in the delivering would it be revealed which. Here, now, the raw possibility of the unknown.

Anima glanced sideways at the Dreadlord when spoken to.

Smiled.

Said, "Do you seek the same end as Ared'luin?"

And her eyes drifted back to Luc.

Their shared fate. It would be decided soon, wouldn't it?
 
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"Ared'luin is expecting what ever you inform them..." He replied, not willing to give up either of his comrades. "For far to long they have enjoyed the protection of both countries.. But if Elbion was to pull back it's support... Vel Anir sit's in position to fill that void... I am sure they would be ever grateful to those who came in their time of need.... As I said, we aim to make trouble in Elbion... We three are of many who believe it's time Elbion be reformed.. By the hands of Man."

It was a gamble... For a half elf to speak of such nonsense... But he played to her Vel Anir beliefs that Man sat on top. He also openly admitted who they were... At least in a sense. He had no disillusions as to the fact they were pawns in a larger game they had no idea was being played until a week ago... Still, he would say anything to get them free at this point.


"Lucius... Surely you heard the name of the student who betrayed his peers and master with theft...of course, that is the tale the College speaks of... They discredit my master and my own accomplishments because they are jealous. because they lack the skill and drive to become stronger... And that is the problem with the College. It has become complacent in it's position and instead of fueling it's brightest stars, it would rather them cast out.... I've no love for that old foundation and I will see it torn down.. That is what we aim to do... And you can benefit from it... Sure.. You can capture the thieving student... One who aided in a mill being set ablaze... Or you can allow us to go... work together and see the chaos we reap in the north so that you benefit in the south. Glory awaits you either way... I just hope you see that the spoils of one path you choose tonight outweighs what you can take on the other."
 
Selene's lips pursed in consideration.

She had no great love for Elbion. The city was a mockery of magic, children playing and experimenting with things they did not understand. Her own master had always held a great respect for them, but if this trio were their students?

Well, The Dreadlord could only confirm her own suspicions of the college. Still, there was opportunity here. If played correctly.

Lips thinned as the girl spoke, though her words glanced off her almost as though she did not hear them. The Witch, to her credit, remained silent. It did appear she was ready to kill though. No surprise there. It seemed the boy was the leader.

She mused for a second more, her eyes floating over the trio before she raised her hand and snapped her fingers.

The flames suddenly burst out from the trees, exploding outward...and engulfing the four soldiers that had been standing around the clearing. They screamed as the flesh was burned from their bones, the scent of cooked flesh raising in the air as the flames all around them died.

"Your terms are acceptable." The Dreadlord stated plainly.

She could not leave the soldiers as witnesses.

"You will cause chaos in the North." She didn't particularly care what else they did, not as long as she could use them. Word would need to be spread, but if she did this right she could expand Vel Anir's influence by a thousand leagues. Her own shortly following after, of course. "Fail me, and I will ensure you pay for your crimes."

She glanced at the smoldering corpses. "And more."
 
Yes.

He had it in him.

Didn't he?

Luc. That capacity for deception. For devious influence. That manipulation of the world and those around him. The bending and breaking of truth at will. And the tangible consequences wrought upon Arethil.

A snap of the Dreadlord's fingers. A shifting of the fire and the light. And the soldiers perishing in terrible agony.

Anima glanced about from one burning man to the next, turning her body and her head to gaze upon each, eyes alight with wonder. And she smiled. Witnessed the outcome of Luc's words. Those beautiful ashes.

And though she remained shackled, Anima found Luc's left hand with her right. Took hold of it. Entwined her fingers with his. Clutched tightly. That closeness between them.

The witnessing. The basking. That further manifestation of the dark.

It had been exquisite.

Hadn't it?
 
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He felt sick to his stomach. He was a sheep in wolves clothing and he felt all around him knew it. Still he had to maintain this imagine. He was a killer now, through and through. Though he didn't commit the act, his words spelled doom for the men. He was just as guilty.

The acrid smell of smoke and burnt flesh didn't help the matter and he wanted nothing more then to twist his face in disgust. He however held his composure and simply turned to look at the burning men and oddly enough, a measure of relief washed over him. If she accepted his wild notion, he knew these men fate were sealed. They were of the town and as such would not stand for what he suggested. As he spoke, he could see the anger flare in their eyes at the audacity of his plan... His notion of their beloved town being taken over.

Foolishly they didn't act though, perhaps believing in their comrade, the Dreadlord and her ability to handle the situation. Surely she would put a end to this wild scheme. That had to be their last thoughts. A moment of sorrow passed quickly through him as he continued to watch. They were innocent men who's only crime were serving their town... But when it came down to it, it was his and his party's lives against theirs... And so they had to go. Luc was even ready to deliver the killing blow. That was the length he was willing to go if it meant walking away alive. Thankfully, she spared him that moment of darkness.

And so, he watched as they burned and Anima took his hand... And he felt a measure of fear rush through him. One companion would kill him if he slowed her... The other reveled in the chaos... And now they made a deal with a devil... Luc the Unlucky... He was working hard these days to earn that name it seemed.

"Pity you had to sully your hands My Lady...I'd gladly would have taken care of them." He said, breaking the silence. "Our shackles?" He then said as he lifted his bounded hands.

He was eager to be free and move on though he knew there would be no freedom. All he did was buy them time. They were instruments to be used for two causes now... And they would survive, he would make sure of it.
 
She was ready to kill.

It took every fiber of her being not to lash out, not to draw upon her magics and try her best to end the Dreadlord's life. She wished her powers lay elsewhere, wished that she had control over water, of the air, over life and entropy itself.

A curse rang through her mind again and again. A prayer for death. Her heart raced and pulsed, thundering in her chest as she desperately clawed for something she could do. A thought ran through her, fingers scrunching slightly as she looked down upon her shackles.

Lips thinned.

Focused honed, eyes closing for just a moment. She felt it, feintly, but then stronger. Something within the metal, something...her palms glowed a soft green, her gaze falling to the metal shackles around her wrists. Nayella watched as the metal faded in color, and then turned to the dark red of rust.

Wonder crossed her gaze, and then a voice stopped her concentration.

"Perhaps you should ask your witch."

The Dreadlord laughed, her piercing voice a mockery of a wondrous discovery. Nayella's gaze snapped up towards where the woman had stood, finding only empty space when she looked.
 
The night descended back down with the retreat of the flames.

The Dreadlord had taken her leave. Convinced by Luc's offer. And there would be chaos, wouldn't there? A happening most perilous, once the pendants were taken to The Midnight Dream, the manner of which unknown. But certain it was, for the man from before to employ such secrecy and coercion.

Would it be enough to satisfy the Dreadlord's desire? If reality fell short of Luc's offer, would the Dreadlord follow through? Yes. She would. To the ends of Arethil she would pursue them. For she was compelled, wasn't she? Desire unshackled was the most potent force in all the world.

Then let her come, if it suited her. All would be fine. Lovely. She threatened merely the death of the body. That which was already promised.

But that was not the here and now.

Anima paid no mind to the shackles binding her or Nayella or her ability to rust the metal.

She leaned close to Luc's ear. Whispered, "How did it feel, Luc?"

A pause. Her tongue gliding across her bottom teeth.

"You enjoyed it."

A breath.

"Didn't you?"
 
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His lip quivered, faint at best. He steeled his gaze and looked to Anima, staring into her own eyes before speaking. "We do what me must to survive..." Came his response which was followed by a frown. He didn't take pleasure in any of this. At least that is what he told himself. Still.. What if that was not the case. Did the woman before him know his character better then he did? He shared a moment of silence with her before reaching to take her hand in his own but it was nothing more then a brushing of finger tips against her own. A small gesture but one with feeling at least.

I must keep an eye on her... She.. Dwells in anarchy... He realized about Anima as he stepped to Nayella, shackled hands raising in hopes she would free him as well.

"If you are to plot something, we are to arrive in Elbion in a fortnight... I imagine in the aftermath, they will have to tighten their patrols and bring them closer to their borders... That would be the optimal time to make your move." He offered his advice thought he wasn't sure if the Dreadlord they narrowly escaped fighting and more then likely dying against needed it.
 
A frown touched her lips for a moment as she considered Luc's words. "If we were wise we would run for the Ixtchel Wilds and never look back."

The way she spoke made it clear that she didn't believe either Luc or Anima would ever go for such an idea, nor would she. The thought was appealing though, if only because the Wilds held a sort of a allure of pure and utter chaos.

There was something to that.

"I suspect we will come to regret what has happened here tonight." She said as she reached out and touched the chain between Luc's manacles. "That woman would gladly see this whole forest burn."

And us along with it The Blight Witch thought to herself as slow colored rust began to form on the chain, digging into the metal and wearing it away.
 
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There the hints on his face. That small quiver of his lip, that veiling gaze, that frown. Doubt and denial. Common reactions. A desperate clinging to the facade that once was. That goodness and that innocence. Yes, it could be difficult, couldn't it? To see for the first time that both of those vaunted qualities were always meant to die long before the body. That what lay underneath had been the true self all along.

Yes.

It could be difficult.

Anima knew.

She smiled at Luc. Watched as he offered his shackles up to Nayella for her to corrode them with her magic. The Ixtchel Wilds, she had said. It would do nothing. Anima had tried something similar. Equally foolish. There was no escaping the inevitable, was there?

Anima glanced down at her own shackles and held up her arms and glanced to Nayella and then to the shackles again and back to Nayella.

That woman would gladly see this whole forest burn.

"What a brilliant light it will make," Anima said. "Before that radiance is lost forever. A lovely perishing. Isn't it?"
 
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He watched in wonder as the metal eroded and began to wonder if Nayella was always able to do that. She held a measure of surprise on her face when she had rid herself of her own minds, leading Luc to believe she had discovered something new about herself.

I'm not alone I suppose. He thought to himself as the voice which spoke to him and took control for a moment came to mind. Another issue to worry about.

"Running to the wilds... Dreams... Dreams is all we had for a long time." He was speaking... Suddenly... With out provocation.

"When has running worked out? Nayella you've been chased from damn near one side of the continent to the other I dare side... Dearest Anima, you ran.. And you were caught and sent on a fools errand..." A errand he had been sent on as well. "I'm hunted by Elbion for a crime I took no part in but claimed as my own... We lead lives not being who we are meant to be... That's going to end... No more running.. We move forward and complete the task given to us and be free of our pursuers... Even if our deeds prove to cause a catastrophe that makes the burning of this forest look nothing more then a simple camp fire in the grand scheme of who ever's plot we've gotten ourselves mixed into, we will bask in the beauty of that chaos which we sow..."

An anger he never knew existed before was burning in his chest as he spoke and he stood there, hands clenched and trembling.

"I'm tired of being so... Tired... I just want to be free and left alone.. We are all owed that much..." He said after a moment of silence that ended with him drawing water from the earth that shot up into the area and came down in heavy drops which served to extinguish the spreading fire. That taken care, he simply returned to his bedroll and sunk into it. So much had happened in such little time... Now.. Now he begged for rest. If they were to deliver on their promise, they would need it.
 
Nayella glanced at Anima and wondered if the girl was suffering from some sort of creeping insanity. She had seen it before. Some of the other students in Elbion, boys and girls who had been unable to handle the pressure of their studies, ones who had been pushed too far and too fast by the Masters.

It was a slow thing, though always present.

She frowned however more at what Luc said. Oddly enough she agreed with him, something that she found difficult to admit to herself. She wondered if that represented a change in herself, or if it was another trick of the crown.

The thing had always wanted to return to Elbion, though she'd never known why.

"Chaos." She mused on that thought.

Her magics were meant for chaos. Entropy, decay. There was no hope there, no calm, no peace. Her abilities lay only in the downfall and rot of things. The blight witch had always embraced that, taken to it, perhaps now more than ever she needed to do so even more. Her hands ceased their soft green glow, fingers closing to a fist.

"You are right." She said softly. "No more running."

Chaos would rule.
 
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Clouds muted the morning sun. Grays and whites and black thunderheads drifting south from the Gulf of Liad. And there through the trees of northern Liadain stood the gates of Elbion ahead.

The city each dreaded.

* * * * *​

Anima stood with Luc and Nayella by the edge of the treeline. The vast grassland clearing before the walls. The well-trodden path from the gates. In the distance those on foot and those in wagon caravans went to or from the city.

It was as she remembered. Memories fragmented as they were. Disconnected images, shrouded in night and in haste. Yes. The fleeing from Elbion with Mother. And now she had come again.

Anima clutched the pendant around her neck.

An apprehension. A fear. The welling-up of the taste of citrus in her mouth. That emotion so rare. All but dead. There when speaking to the man from before about Mother, here now standing in sight of the gates of Elbion, but absent when the arrow had pierced her shoulder, absent when the Dreadlord had found them, absent many other times. For there were many things which promised merely the death of the body. Few which promised the death of something greater.

Here, in Elbion, a little girl had died.

For she had seen something. Yes, she had. And in the seeing a permanent wound, fatal to innocence. What terrible insight gained of the world and of herself. And yet her body lived on, did it not? Yes. Lived on and grew up. But there in the seeing. There in the seeing. The death of something greater.

Anima stared at the gates of Elbion for a time. A gaze far away.

She had given in. As all had or would.

But here in Elbion lay a grave marked with that which was gone. A white star she had called her own.

A blink. And she turned her head slowly. Looked to Luc. We lead lives not being who we are meant to be, he had said. Was it true? A look into the heart and all that dwelled there. Yes, she had given in. Those desires, all of them, dark or else. There since the beginning, unknown and inert until brought to life by looking upon them.

This was who she was meant to be.

Wasn't it?

Anima took in a breath. Said, "You have not been here for a long time. And many things have changed."

She opened her mouth to say more. But that far away gaze came again.

...Wasn't it?

* * * * *​

The dark cellar.

There the Vicar of Suffering hung from a post, wrists tied to a cross-beam, ankles to the main post.

She was quiet. As she had been. Her face that of calm bliss. As it had been.

And there, wrapped around her beating heart and Its excess protruding from the open wound and slung over her right shoulder, the Symbiote. Its body bloated, now wholly a dying white instead of a deep black. The Thread of Mortality of Arethil claimed even It.

It knew the pain of the creature whose heart It touched. It tried to make her well. It could soothe her mind, but her body kept suffering wounds. It did not know from what.

And something had been stealing Its power every time It healed her. Accelerating Its death. It did not know what.

This for a time.

But something changed. The Symbiote could sense it. Not the creature whose heart It touched. Another. For It carried a piece of her. Growing closer.

The Symbiote stirred.

And thus, so too did The Watching of Anima.
 
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There was a quiet intensity that hung about the halfling like a storm cloud that only seem to grow the closer they ventured towards Elbion. Now standing their by the treeline, the storm had reached a crescendo with him threatening to expel the pent up energy with in his body. Though he had learned how to disguise his magical signature thanks to Nayella and her tutelage, or rather what passed for teaching him, standing this close the pair sure felt the power that wanted nothing more then to lash out.

He was angry.

He held no intentions of seeing the city again. He was angry at how he been treated... And how he overcame his hardships only to be further denied but those who thought him lesser. Angry at how he had easily been mistreat. Angry that the only person who care was not threaten because of him.

You will make up for your short comings... with blood if need be. The thought slipped through his mind easily enough.

Three weeks had passed since the incident in the town... Three weeks of spreading rumors. Stealing when they had to, and causing mayhem. True to his word, Luc and his companions wrought chaos as they ventured north. Ellbion in return began to pull back there patrols, as one thing was clear. Though sporadic it appeared that what ever was happening, it was coming closer to the cities.

Entire farms raised.. Caravans destroyed by sudden storms... Fields given to decay.

Their doing.

And now.. They were close to the final leg... Or perhaps just staring at the beginning of something new.. Something terrible. Luc wasn't sure. Which ever the case... They would be their at the beginning or end, which ever it was.

"Ideas on how to get in.. Working through the front doesn't seem likely." He said asking the obvious questions to their current dilemma.

A glance was shot to Anima and he noted the worry that knit her brow. She didn't want to be here as much as him. Though he made no move to reach for her, a soft breeze did tickle her cheek and it was clear he had become much more adept at the subtleties of his magic. His blue gaze then fixed on Nayella who's own power had grown, allowing her to do away with metal. Perhaps she had an idea on how to sneak in.
 
Nayella drummed her thighs quietly, glancing at the other two before a frown touched her lips.

The expression was one that she had worn often over the last few weeks. Their troubles had been numerous, though they had all managed to get by without much trouble.

Now the question lay before them; how did they get into Elbion. "The River."

Elbion was not as large a merchant city as Alliria, but it still sat upon a massive river. It relied upon trade to fuel the university and everything else. Dozens of ships, fishing vessels, and even small schooners went in and out of the port on a daily basis.

"We get aboard a ship up river." She suggested. "Then take the vessel into port."

It would be the easiest way in, and exactly how she'd gotten out.
 
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The Deserter never came back.

Anima had met him years ago. During her return from the far reaches of the frozen east. During her return from her own flight. Fitting.

They were but two travelers on the road. Going opposite directions. A decision. To make camp together. Both longed for companionship. There now by the single fire. A single name given. And the Deserter did not give his. She could taste his shame. That pungent onion upon her tongue. Simply by his presence. The tenor of his words.

But hers was an ear that would listen to his tale. Hers was an ear that would not judge. And he had been yearning to tell it, hadn't he? It was not long nor intricate, but it was difficult for him to impart it. His village had needed fighting men. A militia, formed in haste, to ward off an orcish raid. He had been a part of it. He swore to protect his home.

And as soon as battle was joined, he lost his nerve.

He didn't think he had it in him. That capacity for failure. Of course he was nervous. Scared. Everyone was. But he was the one that broke. He was the one that ran away. That pure drive to live had overpowered all else. Yes. He ran.

They talked well into the night. And the Deserter resolved to return to his home village. It had little to do with her. He had convinced himself.

And they traveled together. Days. Stood in sight of the village. And the Deserter asked for her to stay by the road. That he would come back. He did not explain why. She agreed. And he walked into the village.

The Deserter never came back; it was as if that very village had swallowed him whole. Two nights at camp. Waiting. And Anima simply moved on.

Now she stared at the walls of Elbion. Her own dreaded return.

Would she come back?

A soft breeze against her cheek. A return to focus. And she heard Luc and Nayella speak. A plan. Enter the city via the river. It would do. Yes. Sneak aboard one. Commandeer one. Bribe someone. There were ways.

The river was not far. The sound of it here even now.

A glance to Nayella. To Luc.

"You are ready."

Anima turned and started walking through the trees.

The Deserter never came back. No. But he had gone in alone, hadn't he?

A conscious effort to walk close to Luc. There in the light brushings of her arm against his, gentle reminders.

Of shared suffering.

Of togetherness.
 
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If she was asking herself or them if they were ready would be a mystery he perhaps never got a chance to solve. All Luc knew was that with each step taken, it became clearer. What they were about to do was real. He wondered about morality of turning back. of simply running away, and the thought shamed him. The bravado he gathered together tittered to one side for but a moment and threaten to come down upon him... and then.. it passed. He felt eerily calmed as he walked closer and the city in the distance grew in size. He had a master... Former master... To help. And he had allies as well.

Somehow it wasn't only have the whispered touch of Anima teasing his side but knowing Nayella was there as well gave him strength. Afterward he would have to explore those feelings as he realized they weren't they out of necessity any longer. He longed to have them beside him. Kindred flames in the fire of chaos they were to ignite it seemed.

"How do we get onto a boat?" He asked as they continued on. Most of the ships would have to lay anchor to face inspection before being allowed in. Surely it wouldn't be as easy as boarding a ship and being allowed in, could it?
 
"We swim." Nayella answered casually.

This was an idea she had used more than once when attempting to enter a particularly well guarded port. Climbing aboard a ship was simple enough, and what happened after always created distraction enough for her to do what she needed to.

"When we are in the harbor I will blight the ship." Nayella continued to explain. "Disease will take those aboard, and the vessel will be quarantined."

Her gaze drifted between the two. "From there it will take much of the attention of the city guard."

The Vessel would have to be isolated, the sailors aboard watched, and rumor of plague needed to be kept down.

Difficult tasks all.