Tatiana
Abstral, Taash, and Kuouo ran alongside one another eastward, yet Kuouo was quick to break off to his own unique destination. He soon went northward, unlike any of the other two, and in the moment he turned his body to shift direction, he immediately lost sight of the two companions who embarked through the commons with him. Instantaneously were their silhouettes swallowed in the ever-present darkness of the illusory shroud which dominated the commons' humble, yet certainly not diminutive, midst.

It was only the same sight of ashen wood emerging and then disappearing back into the darkness as Kuouo began his sprint, and even through the early phases when he continued northward. Monotonous, drab colors would appear in their vague forms in his sightlines for a few seconds, then disappear back into the darkness as he crossed further beyond them, each all similar in material-type and build, to be used as no more than residencies for the commonfolk of the Second Floor. And even if he attempted to knock or enter in uninvited to such housings, such attempts would result in little-to-no-fruit; each house was locked, and attempting to communicate with those within would result in nothing but deafening silence. As such, there was no real choice but to continue moving forward. Northward, toward... Something, hopefully.

Something, hopefully. And something, hopefully, soon.

...

Kuouo would continue in his sprint for minutes without spotting... *Anything.*
More residencies. More snow. More darkness. More silence. And more nothing.
_ _

It was only into the latter quarter of his sprint that he would begin to spot things that caught his eyes. 
In the snow, *Faint reflections of streaks of metal.* In the snow, wood which jut from the ground in regulated intervals. The wood and metal which extended up from the ground would remain mysterious in nature initially, yet as he continued further northward, the snow-layer of the ground grew thinner, and, finally, he could see — the metal streaks were *Rails,* And the wood that he could faintly see poking from the ground were *Tracks.* Minecart tracks in particular, from what he could deduct from their size and form. Such rails continued ever-northward across the horizon of darkness, where, as if to match the quarrying theme of such infrastructure, the residencies were no longer built of ashen wood, but rather pearly stone brick — akin to the type that construed the great wall the outsider had just come from.

Following the rails seemed like a wise course of action.

Northward, northward, ever-forward, at full pace for just a moment longer, Kuouo would finally emerge into a large opening — he finally travelled so far that he had reached its northern boundary. The minecart tracks continued forward, and if he were to follow them, he'd—


***`ʰᵒʷˡ`***

*—have to watch his step.*

*Before him stood the sight of a quarry — a vast hole in the ground, roughly 20 meters in diameter, and so deep that, in this illusory darkness, he could not see its bottom.*
A corkscrewed path along the inner walls of the quarry led further down into its depths, yet the chilling howl of the winter wind which echoed throughout its midst practically screamed signs of forebodance to the intuition of the outsider. Withwhat the faint snow and shroud of darkness was, to continue further in would undoubtedly prove treacherous.
Gerald
```fix
"Hmn, looks like I'm on my own now. This fog really is kinda treacherous. I oughta watch my step, 'd hate to trip over a stupid rock."```

Kuouo muttered to himself as he sprinted across the obfuscated snowfield within the commons. In doing so, he kept his sense of sound focused for anything out of the ordinary, passing by each abode constructed of ashen wood with an ear out for, well, *Anything* Out of the ordinary: Hushed words concealed by the patter of falling snow, sharp insults thrown about preceding a quarrel, or alarmed screeching paralyzed with anxiety... Yet, nothing of the sort presented itself to the bandit's ears - and it was not like he could investigate each house for clues on the matter. He compared the situation to a JRPG, feeling like it'd be much easier to just enter anybody's house with no invitation whatsoever and just start asking questions to the homeowner. Alas, this was no game, and the bandit had to play by the rules in order to keep drawing attention to himself.

. . .

Kuouo's mind would slightly grow weary of the situation at hand, feeling like he was stuck in a generic animation loop of the same snow and similar structures with slight differentiations, all cloaked by the same mist that drifted in the snippy air. That is, until something new to the snowscape caught his attention. He didn't catch it with his eyes at first, rather, his padded paws knocked against something solid on the ground, something that retained the cold much more than frozen flakes itself. Glinting from the artifical moonlight shining above, he'd see a sliver of frostbitten metal peeking from the ground.

```fix
"Huh, howzabout that..."```

Kuouo would kneel down on the ground, placing a heated palm on the metal to see what direction it'd keep going. Of course, it continued northward, the same direction he hadn't broke away from. Curious, he stood back up and continued his sprint with the metal streaks locked within his vision. As the snow waned, it slowly revealed itself to be *Rails* — *Minecart rails* To be specific. Furthermore, the residencies would too change, transitioning from mere wood abodes to well-construed stone housing, peaking his curiosity even further. He kept forward, continuing to focus on the houses for any outsiders interacting with the locals — after all, despite the curiosity displaying itself in front of him, he still had to keep the gameplan in mind. He'd keep following the tracks, eyes un-affixed of what was in front of him until——

*Crk... Rkcrk..*

*``ʰᵒʷˡ``*

He'd nearly lunge himself into a deep pit that would've certainly been his death, had he not caught himself last moment. He clenched his teeth, wobbling backwards with his eyes widened from the sudden void that presented itself seemingly out of nowhere.

```fix
"SHITSHITSHIT—"```

Kuouo re-aligned his balance and covered his mouth before shakily exhaling a frosty breath. *``'Angel fuckin' above, I almost damn near killed myself. The hell is this thing anyways...'``* He took just a moment more to gain his bearings before looking at the mine quarry in front of him. The anxiety from just moments ago was overtaken by the same curiosity before, now multiplied. *What was something like this doing here, on an ark no less?* Cultivating food resources made sense, but mining resources was a little weird. Nonetheless, there was absolutely a chance that either The Rook, Cumhall, or that Nekomimi took part in that same curiosity, at least, that's how the bandit justified it. Using just a mere fireball as light to guide his steps, he'd make his way down the howling quarrel, paying no mind to the dangers it forebode but still careful enough to watch his step through its corkscrewed path.
Tatiana
The descent down was long, cold, and eerie. The path was, by no means, OSHA-compliant; the entire damn thing was covered in a thick layer of snow, and some of the weller-walked portions of the path had become so packed with the stuff it had grown downright icy. It was a slippery slope, and not one that he could afford to slip on, for a single mismanaged step would send him tumbling into the abyss below. He, even as cautious and unburdened as he was, would find the path precarious to walk. To imagine that it was a path for workers to use while carrying quarrying equipment and transporting barrows of heavy, dense resources up and down its frostbitten surface was downright absurd. 

It should come as no surprise that the workers here were put under such conditions.
Yes, indeed, even in the world and society familiar to Kuouo, some people had to bear such burdens. All-the-more burdensome it would be under the reign of a tyrant.

The quarry is currently unworked, but its cavernous interior still rings with the monotonous clatter of steel slaving against stone.
The wind howls.

*Dilapidated scaffoldings overlain with ice-bleached, fraying rags of tapestry. Cramped alcoves decorated with dirtied leather hides, burrowing into the cold stone of the quarry walls. Flattened 'landings' along the path, where ramshackle awnings supported by no more than two ashen wooden poles, bent and tilted by the beating winds and weight of snow above them. Thin torn sheets, decorating small designations where snow has been cleared, overtop laid with ice-and-dirt-laden sleeping furs, long abandoned. And manifold signs of where fires once burned, distinct blacks of char thickly penetrating the surface of stone, scarring it with its soot over thousands of days.*
_ _

These were all the signs of where the workers, miners, and transporters of the quarry once rested in their eternal days of labor. Yet all were empty, and ghostly so; as though the site had been abandoned at an unknown time in the past. For as far as the outsider knew, some of the signs could suggest the project was abandoned days ago. But, so too in the outsider's absence of context, could he perhaps conclude that it was *Years* Ago.

Time was a fickle thing in this *Ark,* And to its people, years mattered as little as days, and days as little as seconds. As he had observed once before, all its residency were bound to eternity of life in each of its six Floors. This was just yet another one of those secluded eternities — an unending life in servitude, spanning hundreds of years in a quarry for a reason that neither he, nor the workers that slaved it, knew what for.

*Tunnels that burrow left-and-right, up-and-down, diagonal-and-straight, twining throughout the lower rungs of the quarry. Strange platforms emerging from the walls far higher above ground level than standard. Peculiar overlooks with no observable access-points. Catwalks that stretched across the shrunken lower diameter of the quarry.*

As Kuouo approached the last quarter of his descent of the quarry, he noted such peculiarities in its construction and its excavation. What once appeared to be the workers' simple expedition downward now grew into a peculiar array of construction-mining that formed a labyrinthine system of interwoven pathways and vantagepoints whose access points he could not openly identify. Tunnels diverted from the main corkscrewed path downward, leaving to heavens-know-where — they stretched so far and twisted so much that their ends extended into the nihil of darkness, their cold, unforgiving interiors imploring a sense of warning to the bandit: *He should not stray from the path he is on, lest the pearlescent bowels of this quarry's earth swallow him whole.*
_ _

*Continuing *
 *Further*
 *Down*
 *The* 
 *Path...*

***`CLINK`***

The sound of metal against stone sounds some distance ahead of Kuouo, further in the dark distance. It sounded as though metal had met stone with intent to break it—

***`FFT!`***

***—a rock, near as big as one's fist, cut through the darkness as a projectile. It hurled toward the bandit's head with harrowing ferocity, its momentum certain to be enough to crack his face wide open.*** Only narrowly would it soar past his brow, missing him by no more than a few centimeters' breadth.
Gerald
```fix
"Yeesh, dunno how anybody manages t' actually work in this thing. It was a fuckin' death trap OUTSIDE, much less in 'ere. Ain't no way they actually push shit up this pathway. Had't've used magic, right?"```

The bandit muttered to himself, hoping that the laborers that worked within the mine didn't have to endure such a harsh condition; all the while staring at his paws under the dim orange light his fireball provided, ensuring that each step was made on solid stone enveloped in black ice. 

He'd take a few steps further down, the light glowing from his left palm intensifying as soon as he was sure its light wouldn't leak out onto the surface above before unveiling a myriad of mining appliances. *Abandoned.* Completely weathered by the wind and snow that had battered them for *Years* It seemed. Now normally, any project such as this would replace these tools and alike to ensure their integrity and safety, especially with the labyrinthian tunnels and pathways dug deep into the stone below. Even if preforming labor under tyrannical rule, a rudimentary amount of safety was needed to ensure efficiency yet these abandoned structures were anything but. With that in mind, Kuouo concluded that the mine *Definitely abandoned.* Which would only bring the question...

*What was that sound...?* It was a pattern, a strong, rhythmic clink of metal clanking against rock. It had an echo that ghostly reverberated within the quarry, pairing well with the howling wind. For some reason, the sound wasn't completely foreign, almost as if Kuo had heard subconsciously just moments bef—

**PAHK!!-** *Cruum... Ble...*

A rock, no larger than a softball in size, barreled above the bandit's snout, only missing him by mere centimeters from a lucky step downwards. His head snapped towards the impact it made in the wall, attempting to discern the direction it came in, but it was all too dark. Frustrated with the shadows aiding this strange enemy, the bandit extinguished his guiding fireball, taking this moment of darkness to improperly unsheathe it, tucking it under his left thumb as mana gathered within his palms. His adversary's element of surprise was now futile and the monster was going to turn the table back into his favor!

**```fix
"Show yerself!"```**

With the speed of a well-oiled piston, the bandit launched and reloaded a great manner of small fireballs into the darkness, each firing off into the air before slowing to a stop. Initially, they'd barely make a dent in the blackness, but with a clutch of Kuouo Aiche Dee's hand, they'd triple in size, illuminating the quarry in a brilliant, primal orange light and hopefully revealing his assailant.

```fix
"At a snap of my fingers, I can immolate ya worse than the inside of a smelter! Now tell me what the hell yer deal is before I douse ya in hellflames!!"```

Of course, almost having his face crushed in with some random rock was more than enough to arouse his anger. Whoever this is, if the light reveals their person, might have to choose their actions carefully. The bandit, even if on a noble quest, would not still his hand from delivering punishing licks of flames — especially against someone directly antagonizing him. If they don't want to get hurt, *They'd better have a damn good reason.*
Tatiana
The wind howls, and there is a long pause following the sudden attack.

Despite what all lack of sight Kuouo possessed, it didn't seem as though he could catch sight of movement from where the rock came from. There was no sign of motion in the thick darkness ahead of himself, and no audible noise — the sound-snuffing property of the resilient illusory barrier which enshrouded the night would see to such. Only the howl of the wind resonates in Kuouo's ears, as he is left without response in the cold of night for moments on end, without even a single sign of further attack, or someone responding...

...

...Yet, just before the outsider might think the coast to be clear, just before he would think the persisting silence would mean the end of the unseen adversary's attack, he would hear something — something close, and something coming from the opposite direction as the stone.

*From behind him.*
Bruce
***S***
 ***W***
 ***I***
 ***N***
 ***G***
 ***!!!***

***In the same stride that the man emerged from a tunnel immediately behind Kuouo, the concealed form of the lunging miner shifted with all the might of his hips in a turn of his weight, swinging a silvery pickaxe for the bandit's neck in seeking to catch him unawares.*** Despite what all lethality might be assumed of the attack, the pick was not aimed for his flesh — rather, the pickaxe's trajectory was expertly guided so that the sharp (and certainly deadly) end of the pickaxe would glance beyond the front of Kuouo's neck, the only site of impact being the blunt of the handle against his throat. It certainly wouldn't be pleasant, were he to be hit, and it certainly would be gravely injuring, yet it would not lethally wound him.

Whether the powerful blow backed by dozens-and-dozens of years of bodily tempering to swing a pickaxe collided with its target or not, the miner would continue in the arc of the swing until the end of the pickaxe ended beside his right hip. Revealed now in the proximity of the bandit, and emerged from the tunnel in which he hid, the common-seeming miner would stand at a tall-average of 185cm, hair a grayish-white, and the specifics of his face shrouded in shadow; he wore loose cloth wrappings about his hair, and the shadow of such a head-dressing overshadowed and obscured the details of his face. No shirt did he wear, revealing a remarkably robust frame of wholly untanned skin, roughened, marred, marked, scarred and tattered over many years of stonework. 
_ _

Indeed, everything about such a man would speak the words "Average menial-laborer", yet his faintly-seen, light-blue eyes resounded with fire and splendor. His heart blazed with intent unknown, his hand guided keenly with some sort of greater intent. Intent which Kuouo would not yet be able to ascertain — for what could he know of a man whom he has not traded with anything but attacks and threats?
Gerald
The cave, illuminated with a light akin to a Chinese lantern festival, stood completely still, revealing nothing to the bandit. Despite the crumbs of shattered rock dotting the ground in front of him, there was not a single sign of life to be seen nor heard. The fireball's ferocity wavered in the desolate howls of the wind before extinguishing to a single guiding flame in front of Kuouo once more. 

~~"... Must've been the wind."~~

```fix
"Hnn.. Gonna gun n' run for it, huh?"```

Like the flames that engulfed the quarry in a burning light, the embers of Kuo's fiery personality cooled down enough for his rationale to take back its place. There *Definitely* Was somebody roaming these caverns, but like a kitchen rat, they must've skittered away into the shadows, waiting only for the lightbulb to shut off in order to make its next move. The bandit knew this game of cat and mouse well, having played it himself in his previous endeavors. The cat — or goat for that matter — stood still for a couple moments, attempting to discern the slightest variation of sound away from the torrent-like sound of the illusory barrier's thick gusts but. . .

*Nothing. . .*

*``'He might be hidin' somewhere down where he attacked or prolly went deeper int' the quarry...'``* The bandit rationalized. He'd keep his dagger unsheathed, but dropped his immediate guard, taking a right step forward. He'd conti—

*A sound didn't par with the wind.*

The bandit's eyes widen at the sight of a figure raising its left arm in the shadows produced by his own fireball. Once again, acting purely on instinct that ended up being detrimental to his own being by instantly pivoting on his right foot, rising his like-sided arm and catching the sharp point of the pickaxe in his forearm, the silver material instantly piercing and etching into his flesh. A multitude of pains blitzed through his nerves, the burning of open flesh, the bruising of impact, and radiating pulses of shock throughout the rest of his arm. However, holding back a yelp through chest pressure and grinding teeth, Kuo wouldn't *Allow* The arc of the miner's swing reach its intended destination along the right side of his hip, deepening his own wound while pushing the pickaxe in the reverse direction of its momentum before finally launching a counterattack of his own. Tightly grasping his dagger in a reverse edge-out grip, instead of opting to stab or slash the miner, the bandit pushed his right shoulder out, reeling his left paw back and attempting to clobber the shadow-enshrouded miner's face, his fist colliding with the miner's right cheek followed by a clean slice from the corner of their ear to the tip of their lip if connected. Finally, to get some breathing space, the bandit would advance forward, rising a knee to their abdomen before taking a few steps back.

```fix
"G-Ggh... The hell is your damn PROBLEM!? Who fuckin' fights with a pickaxe— Fuck it— What's your fuckin' deal bitchass? Had t' sneak up on me to land a clean hit..."```

If this breathing space were to be granted, the bandit would continue to mutter several other insults and manners of pain under his breath as his right arm dangled in front of him, dust flying up into the air and eventually mixing with the snow around them. He'd look into their sky blue eyes, seeing some kind of fire burning with their SOUL — But what could it be? What would be so important to attack the bandit out of nowhere... Were they perhaps protecting something? Someone? These questions would be asked within the bandit's mind for as long as time allowed, waiting for the next response — whether it be physical or verbal — from the miner.
Bruce
The assailant was not well-versed in combat. He was incredibly strong, decently fast for his size, and incredibly able-in-body all-round, with an unshakable endurance befitting only of such a hard-working soul as himself. Yet still, with all such physical prowess, he was, again, unversed in combat; his untrained gaze bewildered as he felt his pick's end not freely soaring through the air after forcing the enemy's head aside, but rather sinking deep into flesh, met with astonishing resistance. The pickaxe-wielding assailant's focus was averted when the bandit, whose battle-prowess far surmounted the miner's own, swiftly retaliated, and he could not muster the dexterity to shift his two-handed grip on the pickaxe. Blocking was out of the question, and he was, with blurred vision, left only to witness and to brace himself for the oncoming impact of his Kuouo's fist.

*`Trivial!`*

The miner clenched his teeth as he firmed every muscle in his upper body, neck, face, and all, his overshadowed eyes of light-blue unshaking as they locked with the oncoming form of the bandit's fist. Illumined by the surrounding flickers of the hovering, lanternlike flames whose mere existence substantiated all his ardor and all his hostility toward the intruder, the pickaxe-wielding assailant could find no fear in his heart in the moment that Kuouo's attack approached, and instead only *Spite.* He had tolerated far worse, survived much harsher blows, and such a blunt attack couldn't even make him flin—

**~~*` S L A S H `*~~**
_ _

A blade concealed in a punch — an attack that his distracted eyes could not see through. Focused on the fist, he did not see the razor hidden within, and now warm crimson hurriedly cascaded down his pale flesh. The shock had only just barely begun to settle in as the bandit followed up with yet another attack, this time targeting a blindspot which he could not focus on defending in his blood-spattered haze: his abdomen. Kuouo's knee collided with the ironlike fortification of the miner's abdominal muscles, impacting as though it had hit struck pure *Stone.* Though, with what all reaction the miner had — staggering back a step and faintly coughing —, he could rightly assume it to have worked its purpose, allowing him to retreat in the moment of opportunity.

The pickaxe-wielding assailant was visibly taken aback, his eyes of light-blue wide open as he beheld with furor his adversary ahead of and some distance beyond him. Releasing his right arm's grip on the pickaxe, he let the tool hang loosely at his side, pressing with his now freed hand the bloody and open wound that marked his face. His brow furrowed, and he clenched his teeth, but he would not let himself frown — rather, he most shockingly *Smiled.* Fire again burned in his eyes, and he would finally make his voice known.

***"That's right!"***—he uproariously declared. *"I fought dishonorably by striking you in the back!"*
"But what's honor to a *Man like me?!* I've no training like knights, and no piety like you miracle users!"

His voice rang with a deep clarity, boisterous to the very core of its essence, and yet not at all reflective of either his spite or his hatred. It almost rather seemed that he was speaking in triumph — a peculiar sense of amusement resonated in his tone, and he only grinned further as his voice announced, echoing throughout the quarry.

"What I do have, is ***Something to fight for!*** *So I won't hold anything back against your kind!"*
_ _

The boastful man softly slid his red-stained right hand across the length of his face, wiping some of the blood from his visage and smearing some of it across his chest. Then, in one, swift, single change of a beat, his hand tightly grasped the shaft of his pick, as he slung it over his right shoulder whilst wielding it firmly with both hands. He glared a powerful glare toward Kuouo, opposite himself, still grinning triumphantly as he spoke:

*"Give me everything you've got! **I'll kick your ass, invader!**"*

Finishing with a yell, the miner challenged, as he took a lunging stride forward. One, then two, then ***Swing!*** A rhythmic pace which he had built up over the years! Zeal and ferocity that could not be dulled by endless days in the mines! ***The pickaxe sails from up-to-down, diagonally from right-to-left, caring not for what stood between itself and the ground!*** *He would make the bandit the rock that stood between himself and the path ahead, striking only to make him **Crumble.***
Gerald
Kuo's emotions churned with a myriad of anger and curiosity, the miner's smile further adding on confusion to the thief before making his boastful declaration. At first he appeared dumbfounded, his accusatory words branding Kuouo as someone deeply devout to the power that grants these miracles their arcane energy. Though one might attempt to quickly clear up a dangerous misconception, the miner's initial declaration instigated the sly bandit and his own nasty techniques. The truth behind Kuo's natural arcane biology and intentions would have to wait as the fire in the assailant's eyes rekindled itself with proud assertation: **He too had something to fight for!**

```fix
"Daheh.. Dahehehehah! Ya call that dirty fightin'? Ya couldn't even get the cheap shot ya wanted asshat! Shoulda saved another rock, but even then yer aim sucks shit! If ya wanna come at me, then do it! Jus' don't be surprised when ya get the rug pulled out from right under ya."```

Kuouo pridefully foreshadowed, already beginning to formulate a plan utilizing the environment and circumstances around them. They were on a dangerous and narrow path, the cavern was shrouded in an advanced darkness without the bandit's guiding light, and most importantly, *The miner was already accustomed to years upon years within the quarry.* For Kuo's plan to work, he had to ensure to malleate the environment to his advantage. Despite the quarry-worker's experience in their battleground, *That was all he had going for him.* Kuouo, fighting battle after battle throughout his lifetime, was seasoned enough to know his assailant's skill with their strange weapon of choice hardly matched his own. Even if slightly down an arm for the time being, Kuouo's smirk grew into a likewise smile matching the same fiery ire as the miner beckoned the bandit to bring everything he's got followed by a powerful warcry.

```fix
"Fuckin' BRING IT!"```

*Unfortunately for the miner, rocks aren't very good at moving.*

Kuouo brandished his blade at first... But oddly sheathed it afterwards, quickly backstepping once and dousing the icy stone under them in embers with his right paw as the pickaxe brought forth a powerful arc downwards by it wielder. To be hit with such raw power across the skull would surely mean certain death as well as a slip off the path from such a height. He knew every aggressive step on this path led him closer to such a demise and as such, would exercise utmost caution when opting to evade the miner's attacks. In the next quarter-second, the miner followed up with a diagonal swing from right-to-left, putting next to no mind of how to counter-act the bandit's mobility in the moment as he took another backstep.

*Sloppy.*

After ensuring an evasion of the miner's latter attack, midway through its arc, the orange light once illuminating the cave extinguishes, leaving it to fall back into its standard darkness as the bandit pivoted 180°. By the time the pickaxe's momentum reached the end of its arc, Kuo's knees were already slightly bent, mana gathering under his footpaws before releasing the tension and arching his spine backwards. *The bandit had launched a fiery backflip, the embers that once scattered across the ice-encased stone instantly growing into miniscule plumes of flames and slightly melting the frosted stone the miner stood on, seperating solid from liquid and causing an immense loss of friction. Using the light from his elemental magic to guide his right paw, the bandit firmly wrapped a tuft of the miner's hair around his hand. 

*Infernium.*

With intent to break the miner's root with the stone's now-slippery surface, Kuouo landed in a squatted position, bringing his assailant downwards with his momentum and slamming the back of his head into the stone. The bandit gnashed his teeth down, feeling the reverberation of such force vibrate the wound of his right arm, but nevertheless, he had to ensure his safety. Instantly, Infernium was called to his left palm with fire-power jetting the bottom of the hilt, allowing Kuo enough power to jab it through the rock and keep their balance on the cliffside-like path. If everything went according to plan, leaving Kuo victorious *In this one interaction so far*, he'd look down at the miner and talk to him with a suspicious eye on the pickaxe he wielded.

```fix
"If yer fuckin' done, I'd be glad t' tell ya I'm no deeply religious kinda guy. If ya got somethin' against outsider's t' the Vektet that happen t' use magic, then yer shit outta luck thinkin' ya can beat this one. An' considerin' yer demeanor towards me, I 'spose I'm the only one that's come through here... Makes this a waste of fuckin' time..."```

Kuouo slightly cringed, the smell of blood and slightly burnt hair offending his snout. If given the chance, he'd unwrap his right hand and stand up, reeling back from the miner with Infernium held tightly in his left paw. Still though, even if he was the only outsider to grace this mine so far, there was still a question unanswered to the bandit.

```fix
"Before ya get yer panties in a twist, y'could tell me what yer tryna fight against so hard. I've got a mission of my own, and considerin' ya work in this hellhole of a mine, we could have somethin' similar in mind — or y'could at least understand where I'm comin' from."```
Bruce
The outsider's verbal retaliation only stoked the flames of the miner's ardor. The passion he displayed was reflected in the eyes of the one who opposed him! His combat-cry of valorous nature was countered in reciprocation of equally proud nature. The obstacle before him refused to budge, yet so would he! This tide he sent forth, this determination he solidified, this tempo he had set — it was *Matched,* All of it! Though the average man may find faltering, foreboding, or, forbid, even fear, in the face of such foreign fierceness, *Standard* Was not this mere menial laborer. Nay; he was much more! Valorous, demanding, headstrong, and hopeful for the future—unyielding, untiring, unweakening, unfading, and eternally energetic, ever pushing forward with a weightless heart. Such rebuttal, such challenge, he could only perceive with the proud flicker of flame and gaiety in his focused eyes of light-blue, grinning bravely from ear-to-ear with teeth bared wide and open.

***"Haa!"***

A laugh, and a grunt—joviality and fearsomeness in a single guttural roar! The pickaxe swung with immense centrifugal force behind it, swiping toward its target with bone-crushing intensity. *Yet its tip was met only with air!* The pickaxe swung beyond the bandit as he adeptly dodged the stone-shattering attack, whose momentum would collide with naught but the stone of the ground in its unbreakable inertia. 
_ _

Fragments of shattered rocks erupted upward from the ruptured ground at the point of the pickaxe's impact, dust scattering in such a manner to only further haze the miner's gaze as the *Light spontaneously vanished.* His light-blue irises flickered as he stared toward the empty space ahead himself, darkness now obfuscating his surroundings. A confused stare was shot through the darkness as his pupils slowly dilated, the sudden appearance and even more sudden disappearance of light leaving him unable to register his surroundings — *Even those surroundings which were incredibly familiar to him.*

"Ah, you think the darkness is your ally... But I was born in it, molde-"

*Hm?*

Light flickers in the distance ahead of himself. Again, *That* Miracle... Though he had never met one of its users in the past, it was unmistakable what he was witnessing. Flames that burn with no source of fuel, scorching all life around them in `Disparity.` Yes. The flames of the *Prayers of Sol!* They burned at the feet of the attacker in strange and cunning, their purpose still unknown to the miner who hadn't seen such magic used in his entire life. 

No matter what intent was behind such witchcraft, it certainly wouldn't be for good, that was for sure! Gnashing his teeth, the miner began to shift his weight as he ripped up the pickaxe from the stony prison which he had inadvertently buried it into, attempting to hoist the instrument back into an advantageous position rested atop his shoulder. 
_ _

But...
His footing was unsure. *A devilish manner of fight!* Perhaps he had earned this act trickery for employing such trickery of ambush himself, but he could not conceal either his shock or his displeasure as he found his feet slipping against a precarious combination of melt and frost—water and ice. There was nothing quite as slippery as melted snow atop a layer of ice, especially on such uneven ground as the stony path they were standing atop. And so, when he tried to wrest his pickaxe from the ground in an attempt to swiftly counterattack, his feet would only slip, his balance would only falter, and he found himself in a stumble at the most inopportune of moments.

Now the bandit approached swift, airborne entirely, his acrobatic display unseen by a frustrated-but-still-adamantly-smiling miner whose focus was driven toward the pickaxe buried in slippery ground, his eyes carelessly averted in the moment that Kuouo grappled him, *By his hair.* No doubt he had been grappled before — his experience with *Eiei* Had already made him very experienced with being *Hurled toward the ground.* But noone had ever grabbed him by the hair before! How awful! And exciting, perhaps!? 

His former experience, still, cried out to him. This off-balanced feeling was all too familiar, his instincts immediately kicking in as his head rapidly hurtled toward the stony floor. 
_ _

***`PROTECT YOUR NOGGIN!!!`***

*Release the pickaxe!*
*Both hands on the back of the head, post-haste!*
*And brace for impact!!*

***THUD***

—He weightily collided with the ground, but the point of impact was not his head... But his *Hands,* That guarded its rear. The shock was not all absorbed, and he was indeed forced into a haze of pain and shock from the trauma to his head, yet the impact was absorbed leagues better than if he had struck the ground bare, head-against-stone. The miner grinned in even such a precarious situation as he was, instantly proud with the results of his quick thinking, as he stared gratified into the darkness above.

*"Ha!"*

The miner, though he had little right to do so, boasted in a laugh. *Yes, he had been thrown, but he negated a majority of its damage!* He would not be defeated so swiftly.

...

And then, Kuouo began to speak...


***"Nonsense!"***


He retorted in an instant, replying to the outsider — that he was, quote, *"No deeply religious kinda guy."* Absolute falsitude! He employed the Prayers of Sol, flames of disparity, and he was like *No person he had ever seen before!* Those two facts alone ensured that he was none other than a Knight of Sol, or, at the very least, a descendant of their technique — and one who came from *Beyond the Second Floor.*

*`Remember, there are two enemies we commoners have...`*
*`The nobility which holds us down...`*
*`And all outsiders, who seek to take the floor out from under us.`*

"*Never!* I would have nothing in common with your kind, outsider! We all know of the stories of your Order of Sol—*I will not be deceived!"*
_ _

Perhaps it was his refusal to even process such words, perhaps it was the adrenaline blinding his logic, or perhaps it was the impact to his head, but the miner... He didn't seem, at all, to take note of what was implied between the lines in Kuouo's statement: that he was an *Outsider to the Ark.*

All his mind could tell him to do now, was to stand and fight. And stand and fight he would. Quickly — yet not exceptionally quickly, at such a pace that was comfortably reactable to Kuouo, a trained combatant — the miner rose to his feet, his left hand raveling once more about the handle of his pickaxe as he, now regulating his balance in accordance to the slipperiness of the ground below, tore it effortlessly from the ground. Still half-crouched in his posture, the miner set his sights on Kuouo, and if successful in his attempt to rise, would brandish the pickaxe in open display of his continued readiness for combat.
Gerald
*``'Whazzat...?'``*

Surely, the miner couldn't have hit his head that hard — After all, he softened the blow to an already resilient body. Being taken as a resident to the ark — one with a deep connection to it religion at that — despite blatantly denying it so left Kuouo slightly bewildered. As the quarry-worker continued to accost the bandit, that determination still brimmed from deeply within, showing no signs of being easily snuffed out. With a clobbered and sliced face, slightly burnt feet, and a possible blunt-force induced haze, the bandit had not only fulfilled his egotistical counter-strike but realized the full scope of disparity between their experience in fighting. Furthermore, considering the true reasoning of the miner's attack, the bandit had no reason to strike him down except in self-defense. The monster waited, allowing the misconstrued assailant to re-gain his footing before attempting to clean the slate, *Infernium* Still drawn in a less-threatening manner but still offensively so nonetheless.

```fix
"Hey pal, I think ya got me all wrong! I hardly know anythin' about this Lord Taae Chit Ezer, Left Hand, Arue, Eikokue, Lunar Blessin', Order of Sol kinda stuff. Hell, I jus' came back from dealin' with Aazkue on the First Floor last week! I'm only 'ere t' look for the other outsiders just as myself before they fuck up our plan t'..."```

Kuouo's eyes shifted onto the ground from left-to-right, stilling his tongue from revealing anything further. Sure, this guy is probably one of many suffering from the Sovereign's rule over the Second Floor... But what with the current circumstances — A barrier raised in response to their presense, some 'witness' on the loose looking for them, and the possibility of their ongoing battle drawing attention to themselves — he had to keep his plans vague at best. If that wouldn't satisfy him, the bandit would have no other choice than to either knock him out or withdraw from the quarry completely.

```fix
"Our plan to get to the Third Floor..."```

Kuouo shifted his gaze deeply back into the miner's eyes, the fire within his own cooled without provokation to stoke them once more but still stern and determined, ready to act at a moment's notice. 

```fix
"Look, unless ya understand I'm not here t' take away whatever yer holdin' away so dearly, I know ya don't plan t' put the pickaxe down 'til one of us dies or whatever. If ya wanna fight, then so be it! I'll knock ya down however many more times I have to until ya get tired or I knock you out!... But the least y'could do is gimme yer name and in exchange I'll give ya mine. Kuouo Aiche Dee — Quite the infamous bandit where I'm from, daheh! And you are. . .?"```

The bandit re-inforced his fighting demeanor with stubborness and a strong will... But with a simple introductory phrase, Kuouo Aiche Dee extended the first leaflings of what vaguely resembled an olive branch. He finally revealed his true branding — a name, one that hardly fit into the naming conventions of anyone who resided within the vektet, and a title, something that implied that he too came from struggling roots.
Bruce
His teeth still clenched from the sheer force of the impact, him having delayed his reaction only momentarily to speak, the miner released a sharp breath out as he finally opened his mouth, his hands locked stiff around the handle of the pickaxe where they had lain since he could balance himself on his own two feet. In the wake of the frigid air, his breath, turned hot by the flame of battle, rose as a dense puff of condensation up and up, toward the top of the quarry, up and up, to where his eyes stared to the sky dulled by darkness, up and up, to where the moon should rest.

"All impossible," He said in a quiet tone. *"All you speak is nonsense."*

Now the miner was broken from his haze, and was grinning, slightly, in that same, persisting, inexplicable, determined look of triumph. Yet his ardor had calmed, and his grin was smaller, his tone quieter, and his stance loosened — no doubt in part due to the injuries even his steadfast body had begun to accumulate. Wiping the cold sweat that trickled down his brow and rested on his cheek, the miner's pale blue eyes stared forward, his gaze locked with the bandit ahead of him. Even if quieted by the weight of his wounds, the man retained that ever-burning, all-igniting flame of passion that could not be dulled by the dullest work in all eternity.

His soul still burned hot for vengeance, after all. 

*`...Tear the sky asunder...`*

Allowing himself to raise again into that elevated state-of-mind — no, it was really more like being swallowed by a trance — the miner's grin turned to a smile, and he bore his teeth, swinging the pickaxe back over his shoulder. His muscles swelled, and his throat burned, and excitement consumed him, and thus he roared:

"Anyone who speaks the name of the *Solar Guardian* Is an enemy of mine, bandit!"
"Kuouo, is it? I'll chisel it well on your gravestone," He said while brandishing his pickaxe. Stubbornly glaring forward, he seemed to prepare again for battle.

_ _

"You want to know my name, well," He took a step forward,
"On that gravestone, there I'll mark it down—"
*"'Slain by Er—"`*
Scott
```
"Taaal-hooooo!"```

As sudden and as startling as could be, the sound of a higher, masculine voice came roaring from a higher place in the quarry — likely originating in one of the cubbyholes that Kuouo had seen some time prior. That voice bellowed, reverberating all throughout the cavernous walls of the quarry, as though it were coming closer and clos—

```
"—oooOOO𝑶𝑶𝑶!!"```

***THU***-Clink!

As precise or as coincidental as could be, there landed the figure of a long, white-haired man, landing perfectly upon the extended shaft of the handle within the assailing miner's hand, disarming him in an instant as he forced the instrument from his grip and into the ground. Landing from the impossible height with only a brief moment of pause, crouched, there at the site of his impact, the ever-strange stranger swung his head up, flipping his hair, and then stood upright, as though his unbelievable entry were no strange thing.

```
"Picking fights again, eh, Errek?"```

He gave a wide grin, staring back at the miner, before glancing back toward the bandit.
Bruce
*"Eiei?! What fares with you?!"*

He, looking at the stranger — also as though his unbelievable entry were no strange thing — gave a frustrated, grimacing look, before staring at his hand to only now note he was no longer holding his pickaxe.
Scott
```
"Ya dumb brute. I heard more than you did, and I was aaalll t' way up there."
```

A carefree, lackadaisical, and yet strangely imposing atmosphere loaned itself to the long-haired stranger. His gaze lacked any sort of aggression, yet it strangely possessed a strong air that gave it a considerable sense of weight as it rested upon one's figure. His long, messy, white locks extended beyond his shoulders, separated into three bunches that were bound by thin, dull-colored rings, two at either side of his face, and a the last in one, large bunch behind his back. His frame was thinner compared to the bare-chested miner's — but clearly possessed enough brawn to be apt for much menial labor — and he stood about three centimeters shorter, as well. 

Flipping his hair, he stretched, and turned round to the bandit, gazing with intent as his dagger, squinting harshly at the bandit's dagger for a moment, before continuing on about his carefree manner. 
_ _
Bruce
"*Then you heard the contradiction, too!* And—*Witnessed the flame!* He is a knigh—"
Scott
From over his shoulder, the stranger knocked a thumping blow with his knuckles against the miner's forehead.

```
"A bandit, idiot. Knights wear armor, remember? They also don't got any fur, stupit." 
```

With his arms now folded, he stared at Kuouo, looking him up, then down, then up, then down again. Placing his hand to his chin, he stroked it as though he had a long, eloquent beard, and nodded.

```
"You look reasonable. Well, heh, more reasonable then him, ey?"
"I'll hear you out," He announced confidently, taking a step forward. "But no funny business — that blade goes away."

"But! Twoooo~ questions, first!"
"One! Who in blazes are you? I'm not askin' for your name; I'm askin' for your identity. Exile? Archo? Voyager? Or you from beyond?"
"Two! Where did you get that flame, bandit? Did you steal it? Or is it your own?"
```
Gerald
*ʰᵒʷˡ. . .*

The frosty wind whistled past the quarry, standing in for the moment of silence as the dazed miner quietly re-established his center of gravity. The pickaxe, for now, quickly acted as a cane, still fixed in-between both of the miner's hands. And although Kuouo could see the haze of battle stacking against his opponent's body, the bandit instinctively wrapped his left paw around the hilt of *Infernium* Even tighter. The temporary curtain of frosted breaths had risen, a hint of moonlight revealing the same ferocious determination roaring behind those azure eyes.

"All impossible," He said in a quiet tone. *"All you speak is nonsense."*

Kuouo internally groaned; His jaw lightly ground against his teeth, both annoyed and reeling from the pulsing sensation beating within his pierced right arm. It seemed that the miner's body had finally recollected itself, albeit in a weaker manner than it was before. Kuouo wasn't to be fooled, however, for he knew...

```
"Daheheheh.. Ya gotta take off the rose-tinted glasses and figure out I ain't here to work against ya dumbass!"

```
*Perhaps more than anyone else on their expedition...*



"Anyone who speaks the name of the *Solar Guardian* Is an enemy of mine, bandit!"



*Those with an indomitable spirit,*



"Kuouo, is it? I'll chisel it well on your gravestone," He said while brandishing his pickaxe. Stubbornly glaring forward, he seemed to prepare again for battle.



*Always stood back up; their determination making up in the fallacies of their body until their body is no more.*



Kuouo smirked, pridefully pointing the tip of *Infernium* At his opponent once more. Despite the bandit's right arm lying limp along his waist, his eyes were now too locked onto the miner's own, committed to make his previous declaration of battle stay true.


*```
"The only thing that'll be chiseled is yer front teeth against the ground, bitch!"
```*


"You want to know my name, well," He took a step forward,
"On that gravestone, there I'll mark it down—"


Kuouo flipped his dagger inward, dragging his right leg back and leaning forwards. The leaflets of the olive branch now flurried forward as embers that lit the stone arena once more.


*"Slain by Er—"



*—*



```
"Taaal-hooooooooOOO𝑶𝑶𝑶!!"
```

** **










***```
" E h ? "

```***

** **
Kuouo's eyes scrambled above, his eyes locking onto an *Adam Smasher*-like projectile barreling through the sky. The mysterious white-haired stranger had loudly announced their arrival seemingly out of nowhere before sticking a landing that'd even give Olympians a run for their money right onto the miner's pickaxe. Now Kuouo, he wasn't impressed by the height at which he fell from — Hell, he could do that on a good Tuesday morning. Instead, he stayed silently bewildered, wondering: 

*```
'Was he really that confident not t' have either of them fall off this narrow-ass path!!?'

```*

The thinner man's soft, blanc, locks softly dragged themselves across the broad of his shoulders as he turned his gaze to register and acknowledge the bandit, revealing his wind-like, free, aura; yet still, as he went on, the cut of his jib suggested he was like a big brother that held the power to scold his two fighting siblings.

All sense of danger — immediate danger anyways — slowly vanished as he reasoned with the hard-headed miner — *Errek,* Wasn't it? The bandit kept his blade in hand, but dropped his stance as the white-haired stranger scanned him up and down, the ashen olive branch restructuring itself to now extend outwards towards Kuouo Aiche Dee at the expense of *Two* Questions.

```
"I can be reasonable, sure." Kuouo nodded, hesitantly putting Infernium away in it's sheathe and crossing his arms — only doing so because he knew that the very flame they inquired about could get him out of a sticky situation. "But if yer puttin' my dagger away, the least y'could do is answer a couple of my own questions when yer hearin' me out."
```

With his arms still crossed, the bandit raised his index digit, 

```
"One! I'm an outsider from the Vektet. My group and I came here about a week ago on the first floor. After recollectin' ourselves for seven days, I came back t' continue our expedition, ya know? 'specially after everythin' that happened on the floor below." 

```

Kuouo extended his left paw out, now raising two digits,

```
"Two! As an outsider, I come from a different place where I'm known as a 'monster.' Us monsters are born with magic and I jus' happened to be born with fire magic. Other monsters have stuff like elemental magic, conjuration magic, and all that other kinda shit, ya know? So yeah, the fire is made from my body and my body is made outta magic! Don't ask me how the physicality and all that shit works, I'm a damn thief, not some kinda biologist. Jus' know there are straight up other monsters made outta fire too. No religion 'r faith 'r knighthood required! That's a fuckin' promise right there!" 

```

Kuouo raised an eyebrow, tapping his left foot on the cold stone.

```
"Doezzat suffice or wha?"

```
Scott
Swiveling on his hips, the long-haired man with unnaturally-ashen skin rested his right hand atop his thigh, his gaze still locked on the bandit. Despite what lackadaisical mannerisms he displayed, and what casual air was about him, his watchful silver eyes stared with careful intent behind that carefree visage. With his mouth covered by his fingers, which were now loosely rested above his chin, his lower face — and the expression held in it — laid hidden behind the veneer of his left palm. His brow was all that remained to gauge his reactions and his intents, and to say he concealed them carefully would be an understatement. Yet in all that, he remained unusually natural: carefree, lackadaisical. As he always was. As he was characterized by. As he seemed to be.

He did not show it, but to say he listened to the bandit carefully was an understatement. The flow of information was just as important as the flow of blood and silver. What was the one thing commoners held over nobles? *The buzz of the streets; the gossip nestled within the humdrum and the mediocrity.*

But this... Far exceeded mediocrity. In fact, this far exceeded *Gossip.* An outsider—that was a surprise, sure, but his countenance did not change. His interest grew further with the mention of the state of the First Floor, sure, but his countenance did not change. And his interest reached what he thought would be its summit when he uttered the word 'monster', but his countenance did not change. But this—*This,* Particularly, struck him, when he mentioned this of magic. Of a thought of such blasphemy that it would make a few choice individuals he met long ago retch. An idea so outlandish that those of the—
_ _

—well, it was not his to go there. It was a thought so simultaneously intriguing and unthinkable that he had let his mind wander much too far from the subject at hand. Far enough that he let his expression slip, if only for a moment, if only just a movement of his brow. It was raised far enough now that he could no longer conceal the surprise provoked from what he just heard, and thus making no further effort to hide it, he took two steps back, smoothly leaned backward in the same motion, and audibly enough for Kuouo to hear (no doubt that being the intention):

```
"'All nonsense' ain't the whole of it, Errek," he said, a sense of humor in his breath. "I think he might've gone mad, actually," now he said with an unconcealed grin.```

Allowing his smile to grow, the lackadaisical man took a loose step forward, chuckling slightly. Then his chuckle, too, grew, and he found himself fully laughing now, leaning forward, with his hand atop his stomach, only stopping to stare at the bandit through his slightly-opened right eye. Letting it open fully, it almost looked as though he winked, and he took another step forward, exactly where he started once more.
_ _

```
"I'm foolin'. Nah, nah, that suffices, all right."
"I can tell by the swing of your words that you for sure are an outsider. Means you're not a noble, so that's only a good thing, hey?"
```

He chuckled, again, but let it drop quickly, and took one more step closer. It was all too soon to say that whatever suspicions the man hid had all just up and vanished, but it seemed as though Kuouo had cut through a significant portion of the unseen disbelief that subtly permeated the stranger's disposition toward him.

```
"You say some strange things, all right, man. I've talked to outsiders, and they've all had their sort'f funk. Odd contraptions and whatnot, ya know. But magic—flame, no miracle? Haw."
"Well, you've answered my questions, so 's only fair I answer you some," he spoke, though clearly there was much desire beneath that statement to question Kuouo further. "Or well. Answer some stuff, that is. Mmm-aaactually, I'm going to get comfortable first. We walk?"
```
_ _

His words were smoothly-flowing, one-after-another, and while he questioned with such intonation that it seemed he was asking a request of Kuouo... He just started walking anyway, pacing toward and past the bandit, and unto the darkness beyond him. Errek — Kuouo's assailant — with some hesitation, followed after the long-haired man, though not before clutching back up his pickaxe and slinging it over his shoulder, giving a suspicious glare to Kuouo as he passed.

Were Kuouo to follow, they all three would ascend the quarry some, before happening upon a small and subtle cleft in the rocks, covered over by a white tapestry, which the ashen-skinned man would push aside to reveal a rather well-concealed hollow within the quarry. As the tapestry was pushed aside, a vestige of heat escaped from the room which it hid, the subtle and enticing scent of cooked meat held within the warm air that blew past the three.

Now revealed beyond the tapestry was a small, but cozy room — almost identical to a living-room plucked straight from a poor rustic household, excepting for the familiar dark-browns of a pleasant wood floor being replaced with the cold silver of hard rock — fitted with a sofa, built from fine, pale wooden planks and topped by somewhat stiff cushions of an amateurly-bound textile, some chairs made of slightly lesser, darker woods, a small central table, no larger a coffee-table and overlain with a clean white cloth, and a firepit with a cauldron, seasoned by numerous burnt spices and still warm with the traces of a recently-boiled stew.

The long-haired stranger quickly made himself comfortable atop the sofa, claiming the best seat for himself — too slow, loser — throwing his arms behind his head.
_ _

```
"Like I said, comfortable," he grinned. "And 'cause I know you're gonna ask it, you can call me... Eiei."

"Now, man, let's make ourselves familiar with eachother. What do you wanna know?"
```
Tatiana
Nothing happened here

There were no mistakes
Gerald
In that moment, there certainly was a disparity between the two; Kuouo, as he entertained the long-haired stranger's inquiries, was stiffened, raised breaths quickly exchanging within his chest as he slowly came down from the heat of battle. Yet, staring directly at the caprine, the man's demeanor was free from anything holding him down — carefree, lackadaisacal, yet certainly not aloof. Though he had built a well-founded facade, and though the bandit could not completely see past it, there was a *Hint* He was intently analyzing the bandit's words. Not through body language — no. Rather, it was garnered from the very start of their conversation through those two questions. Though it was difficult for Kuouo to get a read on the man, one thing was certain:

*The course of this interaction would decide whether Kuouo's existence as an outsider was a curse or a blessing to the second floor.*

...

But perhaps, it wasn't that serious. 

Perhaps it was just a man curious about the outsider suddenly fighting their companion in some dead mines.

Perhaps it was just a man wanting to ensure their own safety from someone who supposedly held similarities to the inflaming 'miracles' within the Vektet.

And perhaps, the latter was at least somewhat correct...? Upon Kuouo's first mention of magic, the stranger's veil faultered, rays of intrigue and awe peering through the cracks from just a raised brow. At that point, there was no going back either, the man reeling two steps back with a grin widening on his face as he humerously poked at the bandit's candid explanation.

** **
```
"Oi, lookie-'ere, I ain't got any reason t' lie to ya 'bout my biology. Hell, if it'd help my case a little, y'can see the pickaxe wound yer friend gave me 'ere ain't even bleedin."
```

Despite Kuo's left eye twitching from the slight annoyance at the man jerkin' his chains, he couldn't help but feel a bit more at ease. Whether it be from his turn during their information exchange ending or the man's aura lending itself to the atmosphere after the fact was unclear. However, in the end, it allowed him to finally calm himself and get his own questions in order. Even more so after confirming that he was no bootlicker for the nobles.

```
"... Yeah I 'spose we can get a little comfortable. We can have us a proper conversation, but after that I gotta go. Got places t' be, y'know? Didn't expect t' be ambushed down 'ere," Kuouo let Errek pass, winking at his assailant after the miner shot a weary stare in his direction. "But who knows? Maybe in the end, this'll be beneficial for the three of us, ya feel me?" 
```

And so the bandit would follow the two up the quarry, quietly wrapping the bandages sourced from his inventory around his right paw and arm, simultaneously watching his step as they walked along the icy path. It wouldn't take long for them to reach their destination, the bandit singeing the end of the bandage with the tap of a heated claw. In front of him, a white linen is pushed aside, revealing a surprisingly familiar sight to the bandit! A warm, cozy dwelling within the cave that shielded them from the harsh elements — Albeit, this seemed a bit more permanent and a lot more furnished than his own 'Bandit's Den' he resided in on nights he couldn't afford a room at the inn in the same town. However, what really caught his eye, or rather, his primative-like snout, was the smell of meat. Seasoned meat! 

Kuouo took a full step inside, letting the hood on his cloak fall to the back of his neck as he enthusiastically took another whiff of the cozy air. He stared upwards, attempting to fix his blonde, disheveled fur-cowls to a lesser, more practical level of disheveledness, watching the man quickly hop onto the sofa and get into the optimal position for comfort as he formally — well, as formally as this could get — introduced himself.

```
"Eiei izzit? Nice t' meet ya. I'm sure ya heard my name earlier when ye happened to be eavesdroppin' on me an' Errek, but y'can call me Kuouo." He pointed his left thumb at himself before taking a semi-seat on the arm-rest of the sofa, positioning his right leg on the ledge below the cushions and leaning forward. "So Eiei, I've got three questions, one reeaaal easy like, and the other two might vary on the harder side of things."

```
Matthew
```
"'Mutually beneficial,' hey? I've heard that phrase a few-many-times, and often wonder when'll be the time it'll turn to be true. Maybe, man. We'll see soon."```

A look filled with all preparation and cool-headedness showed itself on the man's ashen face, his arms stretched wide and rested against the top of the rustic sofa, right leg folded atop his left, and silver eyes set confidently upon the guest within his little abode. From expertly-hidden apprehension to bold and open certainty — as though he were fully in control from the moment they stepped into the room — the subtleties of his composure pivoted as drastically as such minutia could with a simple change of surroundings. Perhaps this was the 'advantage of home' that was so acclaimed in both combat and in diplomacy; even the unconscious and undetectable aspects of his countenance now fully agreed with the carefree and lackadaisical nature that patterned him so much. Whatever questions the outsider had in store for him, he was certain he would be able to take in-stride without missing a single tempo.
_ _

```
"Leftovers? Naw, naw — now you remind me, you bumpty... I was going to well enjoy that stew, hear me? All of it, nice and smooth and tender and warm, with the finest seasons, and with the rare hint of meat — oh, to savor it — but..."
"Then came the sound of the Emissary's arrows, echoing, booming, like thunder in the ears. Naturally, as two men do when they are to believe their homes are aboutta be burned down, we drank down the rest of that pot in fear for it being our last meal!"
"Oh, misery!—and, no doubtin', all 'cause of an intruder! Like you, mm?! Evil, evil, muck-daubed bandit, no-good, with ill intents to waste my stew, huh?!"
```
_ _

His tone was humorously exasperated, his face contorted with a frustration that was clearly put on for dramatics, his mouth subtly pulled on by a little smile that defied the possibility of any actual intention to accuse the bandit. Still being the first time he actually made a show of passion, his shift in tone would certainly come with much suddenness that was to be quickly cleared away by the relief that was his jesting grin. This would be the second mark of the man jerking on Kuouo's chains, and certainly would not be the last.

```
"Haw, haw," he interjected while motioning his right hand round and round, as though to clear away the commotion he had just made, "I'm foolin'. But only a little bit! You're still a trouble of an outsider for stealing away my savory stew, man. My stew, man! It took me three days to make that stew. Three days!"

```
_ _
Arnold
*"Haah."*

Errek interjected, speaking up for the first time since Eiei arrived. 

"Don't forget," He said, leaning forward from his rested position against the wall, "'twas *My* Stew, Eiei."
Matthew
```
"Yours?"
```
Arnold
"Remember — *I* Caught the two fat rabbits. A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, if I do say so myself! It's a wonder, Eiei, and just think: who else could have snagged up two, plump—"
Matthew
```
"—And I caught up the firewood, and the cauldron, and the seasonings — of that mighty-rare type you've never smelled in your whole life — and dug up the shelter to cook it in, an' the millet flour for thickening," He took a breath, "—and butchered the little creatures, and simmered down the bones for stock, mixed the whole thing together—"
```
Arnold
"—Oh, but there would be no stew without rabbits, would there? That's my point, brother. No rabbit, no stew, no deliciousness to savor. What, would you have a millet-flour stew, huh?—"
Matthew
```
"There'd be no damned rabbits caught without the snares I taught you."

```
Arnold
"And no snares were used! With my hand, I said — I snagged them both up with my hand, the both of them, while they were keeping warm together in the snow, one atop the other—"
Matthew
```
"—So you did, man. The stew would be less than a meal of wet meat in stagnant water if you cooked it."
"What-ever, then," Eiei announced, breaking the chain of retorts with a swing of his hand over his shoulder. "What-ever is said is said to say that there's no stew left for you to eat, man."
```

_ _
Still with his aspect of casualness, he shifted from the digression back to the central subject, Errek leaning back against the wall and tilting his head back to stare toward the ceiling. Oppositely, Eiei leaned in, toward the central table, now hunched forward and staring at an angle toward Kuouo.

```
"You speak of some interesting fineries, outlande— ah, bandit. Outlander is a good word to describe fellas like you. But I don't wanna use it. Out of principle, see. Bandit works better, then."
```

*`You don't hear much of bandits,`* He thought. *`Mostly because they are dead quickly at the hands of the guard, but also because none care to announce themselves to be in such a profession,`* He placed a hand to his chin. Nevertheless, it wasn't the time to go there, nor was it appropriate to digress even further with questions still waiting for answers.

```
"For any strangeness in the quarry, well," He glared toward Errek, "Besides yours and his spectacle of a quarterless brawl, yeah? Other than that, there wasn't much."
"So the skies turned black an' the world goes numb in silence, and so these are the signs of intruders beyond the wall, and so we stay quiet and still in our pit in the snow."
"So there is 'a witness that prowls in the umbral night', and so there is not much for us to do. It would interfere more with the princess's defense for us to rise than it would for us to stay down," He shrugged. "We've seen no other outsiders since."
```
_ _

```
"Simple reasoning why my good man Errek would look to smite on sight, then. Even if it was a little hare-brained, eh?" He knocked his knuckles against his own forehead, grinning. "The great-and-righteous-princess only takes her mighty inconvenient measures to conceal when there is a threat about. Not just some lone bandit like yourself."
```

Now Eiei folded his arms, leaning back and closing his eyes, visibly preparing to answer the last of Kuouo's questions. The matter of miracles, eh? It was something that couldn't be skirted around in an indirect way, nor could be suavely maneuvered about with that nonchalant aura that the ashen-skinned man ever radiated. There was quite a moment of hesitation, him taking several seconds for thought, yet his answer would be made with relative quickness and a surprising bluntness to it.

```
"Well, cause it's damned heresy, I suppose?"
```

He chuckled, himself, at how abrupt the statement was, though sobered himself and again stared directly toward Kuouo.

```
"Don't get me wrong — you'd be ripped up all the same by Tvoktei's knights if you were said to be seen using a proper miracle if it so much as created a smidge of flame," Eiei shrugged. "Claiming to create a flame without a miracle just changes whom you'll be pissing off. And it just so happens the 'whom' you're now pissing off, is the entire Arue, and the Guardians' knights, and much of the nobility of the Second Floor. Maybe not so much the archos and the voyagers of the Floors beyond, but, well, damned if that isn't almost everyone."
```
_ _

```
"And the Solar Guardian? You'd ought not even t' speak his name. I don't believe at all in omens, but to be wholly honest, I make an exception for that man." 

"You wouldn't think the son of the great saint Eikokue would be a man of such an awful nature. Here in the village, some even find it in them to revere the Eclipse Guardian just by his mother, but not that man. He is another case," he frowned.
```
_ _

```
"But enough with that. Again back to your magic."
"The concept of sorcery without a proper incantation is something that the Arue claims is either impossible or a worthy enough heresy to be turned to ash. Oddly always swings between the two, depending on who you asked — crazy how that works, eh? 'It's impossible', one swears, and then other says 'Those who practice such things defy the teachings of the great Ezer', as though it were clearly possible from the start."
"A whole pot of dung is what it really is. There are things on the Fourth Floor that extend so far beyond miracles that it's almost laughable. When you tug on a loose string of the lie, all the narrative falls apart at the seams."
"Maybe I should've expected it to be possible," he contemplated for a moment, "but the surprise comes in the fact I've never seen an outsider use a miracle or magic. Well... I mean, I've only met one, but it is what it is. Learn a new thing every day, I guess."
```
Gerald
"Yo. Long time no see."

"Yo. Long time no see."

"YO. LONG TIME NO SEE."
Matthew
"What are you talking about?"

"It hasn't even been that long."
Gerald
"YO. LONG TIME NO SEE."
Matthew
"Can you even understand me?"
Gerald
```
Kuouo lightly scoffed at Eiei's jovial turn-of-blame towards the bandit, leaning forward with an amused smirk. "I was hopin' ye were jokin'," Kuouo snickered, "After all, ya wouldn't believe what kinda appetite gettin' shot at works up." Figuring he had the go ahead, the famished caprine shuffled over to the cauldron, grabbed a wooden bowl, and helped himself to a polite amount of the rabbit stew.

Getting comfortable on the rustic sofa once more, the bandit blew on his stew for just a moment before bringing the bowl up to his maw and beginning to gulp it down. He chugged down the viscous liquid, his eyes darting between Eiei and Errek with each retort they shot at each other. Kuouo found a great enjoyment in the stew's organic and somewhat foreign flavor. What would be a gamey flavor — or whatever 'wet meat in stagnant water' tasted like — was pleasantly masked by the various seasonings that marinated with the soft and tender meat over time. The bandit's curiosity over otherworldly stew was sufficiently quenched, yet the brotherly banter between his two hosts left his other questions unsatiated, albeit only for a short moment.

"Shoulda gotten more stew..." 
```

** **
```

The bandit muttered to himself. Noticing that Eiei was finally locking in on the conversation at hand, Kuouo placed the bowl on the coffee table before leaning forward with his paws on his knees, head tilted to match Eiei's angle. 

The second answer to Kuouo's second question was pretty obvious and to be expected, yet it still left a taste of dissatisfaction. "Figures. Not to mention the way down t' these caverns are a bit far out from the direction most of us came through." Kuouo looked at Errek out the side of his eye with a smirk, "But eh, ain't nothin' wrong with lookin' for a good little squabble inna moment of boredom." Kuouo chuckled. "But like ya said, little squabbles and lone bandits like myself prolly wouldn't grab royalty's attention on the first go around." Kuouo dryly laughed. It's not like that he wanted any kind of that attention, yet he found himself in the fog chasing after rambunctious nightmares threatening to end a dream before it even had a chance to manifest.


```

** **
Grunting to himself and crossing his arms, Kuouo crossed his leg over onto his knee and tapped the digits of his left paw along the opposite bicep, impatiently waiting for Eiei to gather his tho-

** **
```
"Well, cause it's damned heresy, I suppose?"

```

** **
```
Kuouo's head tilted with a raised eyebrow, though confusion would soon degrade into a slight grimace if what he heard was correct. 'Heresy for practicin' what's a part of my damn body.' The bandit closed his eyes, 'and it just so happens that it'll prolly piss off the people I'll be wantin' t' talk to.' Kuouo looked back up at Eiei, his ear twitching at the mention of Aazkue. If he remembered correctly, the reason Aazkue got Veirok'd in the first place was because he attempted to take the Taae Chit Ezer's life... A cardinal sin and a following omen that ties right back around to Eiei's continued explanation over heresy, blasphemy, and the like. 

```

```
"Pile o' shit is right," Kuouo stood up, finally wiping the stew that's been stuck on his chin for the past two minutes or so. "Cuz even for a place with its own religion, yer still an ark that's travellin' through space-time and what not." Kuouo snickered. "Yer bound t' meet some wacky stuff if outsiders are common enough t' call 'outlanders." Kuouo raised his paws in the air and shrugged. "But if the Arue or whatever figures the idea is so alien that they can't even make up a convincin' reason around it, I guess I gotta watch myself when tryna talk up Princesses and the like." He winked, indicating that he might be trying to seek out Tokko, but with enough suave to make it ambiguous whether it was for a completely shallow reason or something much deeper. Given the situation outside the quarry, however, the latter seemed a lot more plausible.

```

```
Kuouo took a step towards the cloth that shielded the cozy interior from the harsh elements outside, emotionally wincing at the prospect of having to step back out into the bitter cold. "Well, I really oughta get goin'." The bandit announced. "I 'ppreciate the hospitality, and I'd really get a bowl of stew to-go if I could." The bandit tugged the hood of his cloak and jerked it over his horns. "And I did say I'd make this 'mutually beneficial.' I dunno if this is worth any on this floor, but I imagine a couple of workers like yerselves'd be appreciative of these either way... " Reaching into a cloth bag tied around his leather belt, the bandit grabbed a pawful of GOLD coins, resting them on the arm of the sofa directly to Eiei's right. "Should be 10, 5 each'll do... Even if Errek there nicked my arm pretty badly." Kuouo teased with a playful frown. 

```

```
"Forreal though, if ya got any questions or are otherwise unhappy with what I consider beneficial for ya, ya better speak up now or forever hold yer peace." Kuouo walked over to the cloth, motioning to wave it open and looking back at the two with a half-smile.

```
Arnold
*"He eats well."*
Errek commented, still leaned against one of the walls of the small hollow, cocking his head back in an upward nod toward Kuouo. His gaze seemed still cautious of the bandit, yet his countenance overall seemed affirming in his comment; Errek always respected those who had a good appetite.
Matthew
Seated in his comfort, the long-haired man remained with his air casualness, grinning slightly as Kuouo partook in the stew with his hand loosely extended, both as though to say *Good, right?"* He hadn't an idea how long Kuouo had actually been on the `Second Floor`, yet with the time between the arrows' rumbling and the bandit's arrival, it had to at least be a while. It was a shame to have to give up some of the leftovers, but, well... He and Errek didn't *Have* To eat, anyway.

Listening through Kuouo's responses whilst leaned in, his head rested on the back of his folded hands, the white-haired and ashen-skinned fellow gave a neutral glare toward the bandit as he spoke. His eyes subtly honed when the outsider spoke such words as "Spacetime", and, moreover, when he referred to them as a 'couple of workers'. 

*`Mm, s'ppose that's all what we look like,`* He thought. A much younger Eiei might have taken that the wrong way, but the wisened man now seated in his place was both more aloof to such statements and much more knowing of their innocuous nature.

The ashen-skinned fellow's gaze followed Kuouo as he reached toward his belt, the subtle glimmer of the golden coins reflecting in his silver eyes.

_ _
```
"Gold?"```

He plucked up a couple of the coins, rubbing the two together between his fingers, as he held them close to his face.
Arnold
*"G... Old?"*

The muscular miner's arms unfolded, and he took a step forward, leaning in to view the currency...

*"Gold."*
Matthew
```
"Yeah. Gold," Eiei nodded.```
Arnold
*"—'Twould indeed be gold."*
Errek affirmed, folding his arms, also nodding.
Matthew
```
"Yeah. That's what I just said," he slapped the coins back down onto the arm of the sofa.```

Eiei leaned back upright, his head tilting toward the ceiling as he closed his eyes, and his lips shifted, his visage loosely-perplexed. He folded his arms, his thumb beneath his chin and his index resting over his lip.

```
"... Man, hell am I s'pposed to do with this?"```

The fellow began to chuckle, as Errek shook his head, though the latter was also softly grinning himself. Then Eiei laughed, wholly, before he pinched back up a piece of the gold, holding it upright between himself and Kuouo as he leaned back in, his other arm hanging loosely over the edge of his left knee.

```
"Mm, it's no doubt a pretty coin."
"See, man — the issue is, I've nothing to buy, and nobody withwhich to trade, hey?"```

With a flick of his thumb, he flipped the coin, its gilded reflection streaking a contour through the air as it launched high, then descended swift, landing with a quiet slap against the back of the silver-eyed man's hand, now rested across the knuckles. He rolled the thing back and forth with such a dexterity that it almost seemed practiced, though it clearly was not; his natural sleight-of-hand was such that it almost seemed supernatural, twirling and tucking the thing across his knuckles and then back into the grip of his hand, where he then presented the coin across the surface of his palm.

```
"Still," he closed his eyes and grinned, genuinely; perhaps the first true emotion the lackadaisical man had displayed since their meeting,"it'll make for a good memory, no?"```

Now their meeting was approaching its end. Kuouo turned and had prepared to take his leave, Errek's gaze shifting slightly as his smile faded and his countenance hardening, while Eiei simply gave his neutral stare. Something immediately came upon the silver-eyed man's mind, and it seemed, for a moment, to burden his mind, as he pondered quietly.

```
"You're going to keep going up, aren't you?"
"Keep on climbing, right? To the next Floor, and the Floor after it."
"No matter who stands in your way. 'Til you hit the top."```

Eiei stood, and a new air defined him. It seemed a great deal much more serious than he had been in his introduction and his conversation prior, his posture straightening as his eyes were honed, a small weight pulling upon his brow. Tinges of unknown emotions swirled beyond the man's controlled, carefully-maintained visage as he stared toward Kuouo, and yet despite all his control, a strange sense of remorse, apprehension, and sorrow all seemed to peer through.

```
"Without lookin' back, right?"```

*`...I don't want to regret this again.`*
_ _

He turned, and paced toward the opposite side of the small alcove, reaching into a small crevice at the foot of the wall. There, within a cleft of stone, was a small, rectangular, ashen-wooden box, covered in loose stone-dust and very apparently worn over many years — fifty years, at least. Eiei lifted the thing close to his face, pausing — hesitating — for a long moment, his expression unseen by either Errek or by Kuouo as he had turned his back to them.

*```
"... One little trinket for another, huh...?"```*

He slid the lid open, retrieving a small pendant from within. A pendant with a **+**-shaped ivory cross, bound by a thin string that was also decorated by ebony, wooden beads — all three not of types one would find on the Second Floor. It seemed to be constructed of a material and culture alien to the *Second Floor* — and perhaps even to the *Vektet* Itself. A peculiar magic imbued its form, mana engraved into its very form and fluctuating through the atmosphere around the space it occupied.

Eiei turned, staring over at Kuouo over his shoulder. Inlying within his eyes was a potent, undefined expression that showed only the weight of his emotion and none of its substance, as, without warning, the man tossed the pendant toward Kuouo.

```
"You should take this."
"A long time ago, an outlander——a warrior——gave it to me."
"He told me that it represented home," Eiei squinted lightly, "said he 'didn't need it anymore', since 'the only way for him was forward.'"
"...'m gonna tell you what to do, but, just know this:"
"Just know it doesn't get any easier from here-on-up. And it isn't always a sin to turn back."```

With that, Eiei would let him go.
Arnold
...
But if Kuouo were to step beyond that sheet and go his own way, he would be stopped just a few steps out the door. A hand would press against his shoulder, and if Kuouo were to turn, there he would find Errek.

"Bandit."
"Before you go."
*"—'Tis true that you plan to see the Princess, Tokko, correct?"*
"I do not know what it is you seek her for. But I see that you are not a malignant man, even if you are a bandit."

A concerned, but understanding expression was upon his face, his brow furrowed slightly, yet his gaze gentle.

"So I would entrust you with a recommendation."
"She is a stern woman, and negligent, grossly"
"But she is not a *Bad woman,*" He shook his head. "She is merely... Say, *Tentative.*"
"Entreat her well, and she will hear your petition. She shall bear down on your first, yes — but do not believe her hopeless, entirely."

Errek turned, stretching his right arm. He seemed to have retrieved his pickaxe, slinging the thing back over his shoulder as he stepped back toward the entry of the small hollow in the rock, hidden behind the cloth.

"I admit. I did misjudge you, bandit."
"But know this:" Errek paused, before re-entering.
"...*My loss was only result of Eiei's intervention!*"
"Had he not stepped in, you would most certainly already be buried beneath the stone."
"Remember that, bandit!" —now he stepped beyond the curtain, waiting not for a response.
Gerald
```
"A good memory, huh? Yeah, I 'spose so..." 
```
 Kuouo held the tapestry open, still turned towards Eiei and Errek as the bitter wind howled for the bandit's return. Kuouo reciprocated with a hearty smile, a chuckle-and-a-half fading as the cold air slowly replaced the warm atmosphere provided by the fire. Eiei muttered to himself, yet each word was expertly discerned with the caprine's dangling ears. Without speaking, the bandit quietly confirmed the silver-haired man's assumptions with a firm and determined nod. Eiei stood, a touch of melancholy in his carriage that the bandit found somewhat peculiar — The first couple times he could finally get a read on the lackadaisical man and they're both subtle moments of joy and somberness...

Nonetheless, Kuouo's eyes quietly followed Eiei. The black hood over his head somewhat obscured his eyes and slightly obfuscated the silver-haired man pondering over the wooden box that dusted his palms. The bandit slightly pushed the edge of his hood back, Eiei now facing him as he lifted the lid and revealed a peculiar pendant of warrior's past. Though unannounced, the bandit was quick to retrieve the beaded necklace, snatching it out of the air with his left paw and immediately feeling the mana resonating within. Yet, much like the silver-haired man's gaze yet again, Kuouo could not exactly discern what it held within. He knew only of its history from the information Eiei was willing to give in that moment...

```
'A warrior that only wanted to move forward...'
```

** **
The bandit thought to himself, his brow furrowing at the very thought of abandoning home. Kuouo was indeed still determined to climb to the top. To claim victory over whatever hardships that were to get in his way from exploring the ark. Yet to be stuck with the assumption that he was only going to be moving forward left a sour taste in the bandit's mouth. He refused to forget about home. He refused to forget about the hardships, bonds, and mistakes he made on the first floor. And most importantly, he refused to be chained to that warrior's ideals.

```
Kuouo quickly donned the pendant, looking down and admiring how it slightly complimented the cloak he obtained in Exiles' Watch. Turning back towards the tapestry, he looked down and to the side towards Eiei, speaking with a grateful tone, "... Thanks!" He took one step out of the doorway. "... And I'll be sure t' bring ye guys some pot roast next time I swing back around." He muttered reassuringly before finally taking his leave.
```

... But it seemed that Errek, too, wanted to leave the bandit with a parting gift as well. Kuouo had taken a few out into the dark quarry, where the snow had dusted the bandit's black cloak once more, before a firm grip on his shoulder grabbed his attention yet again. Kuouo responded to man's query with a quick nod as he quickly tuned into the information Errek was willing to give just moments after Kuo's departure.

```
Kuouo couldn't help but raise an eyebrow as Errek used the descriptors 'bandit' and 'not malignant' together, but nonetheless, he peered at the blue-haired miner and continued to listen intently. "... So I jus' gotta be nice and persistent?" Kuouo relayed, regurgitating the information in an even simpler form from what Errek presented with. "... Maybe me an' her'll have a lot more in common than I think... So, bet." He appreciatively nodded, "I'll be sure t' put it t' use." 

```

** **
... As Errek proudly retaliated against the outcome of their previous scuffle in his boastful version of a farewell, the bandit could do nothing but exhale in amusement as a confident smirk is drawn across his own face.

```
"... Yeah, sure man. Sure." He snickered under his breath before moving upward through the quarry.
```