Carlos
Selkie N'yenskor
Northwind

Selkie's slender snout gaped as a song echoed out among the trees, a lullaby to the night - a lullaby to her, bidding her to return. The shifter was caught in the throes of a trance-like state, forced to gaze towards the song in blind awe. She lowered her head and caught her ears in her digits, attempting to ward off the sound. It was so cruel. It reached into her mind with sing-songy, evil intent, cloying and demented. Her state restricted crying, for she lacked tearducts; instead, she simply sat with her legs dangling. There was a fist around her heart. Bizarre, airy, choked sounds escaped her throat, agitating it as they strained to escape. The night felt like a blanket thrown over a cage. A false security. At any moment, a woman's hand would peel it back, would twist her palm around Selkie and pluck her from solace. The feelings ripping through her were white-hot and foreign, a fiery tsunami rocking her mind. 

The girl stood, replacing her awkward cries with periodic clicks. She deftly crept towards the song. Still shrouded in both darkness and foliage, Selkie stalked the edge of the forest - the edge of Lyra's perception. Though poor, Selkie's own sight allowed her to witness a blade's sparkling edge, a necklace's twinkle, armor's charismatic glint. Silver shone handsomely in orange torchlight, betraying Lyra's location. Selkie's lip twisted beneath jagged teeth. Amber eyes peered at Lyra from between leaves. Selkie understood that the girl was not alone. Her companions would likely recapture Selkie before she freed herself of the collar. Still, Lyra - agonizing as her memory was - was the first armed person Selkie had seen in days. She could not squander the opportunity being foolish, being weak. Her ears swiveled as she attempted to touch Lyra's mind with her words. If the woman's mental defenses were lowered, Selkie's message would slither into her thoughts:

*"You help me."*
Carol
Levi Cortez 
Northwind

Levi glanced back down at the worn map, before tracing a line through the middle of the page. He looked up at Rhoderick and at the men around him before looking back down. 

"Trade routes trace through the mountains, all leading to Rivers Peak. My men have been watching them closely, and they have discovered that many of them are just decoys. Anyone entering Rivers Peak with the Koern's blessing takes this road." He said, tracing a small curved line that angled sharply, cutting a distinct path through the dense forest. "It's well protected, with guards placed at checkpoints that are placed every few leagues. Nothing gets in that they can't see, or that they haven't checked. Easy enough to bypass, as long as we have the right papers and cargo. My men and I will take care of the preparations." Levi said, before turning to face the rest of the men. 

"The rest of you. Be prepared for war. It is inevitable. It will reach these doors before long." He said, before pulling his hood over his head. He gestured at Malachi to take his place before walking back out into the stone corridor outside of the massive war room. 

A chilling air settled around Levi as he made his way past the small crowd of nobles that had gathered inside of John's council. He felt their eyes on him, the unsettling feeling of people watching him making the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight. He was thankful for the hood. It gave him a mask, made him an enigma to most people.

*"You do not belong here."* A small voice slipped its way into his mind, and Levi's storm-like eyes danced around him, looking for the person who said it. 

*"You belong with me, Levi!"* The voice deepened, and as Levi looked forward, a trace of Tharn's eyes met his own, emblazoned with a yellow fire that ran shivers down Levi's spine. The echo of Tharn's voice bounced around Levi's head as Levi stumbled slightly. 

"Are you all right, master Levi?" An elderly noble reached his arm out to stable Levi. Levi shook his head, muttering an excuse about an old wound before walking outside. 

Iron Gate's endless expanse stretched out before him, and in front of him sat the town square, a bustling hub of activity. Merchants pushed their way through the crowd, selling their wares as if they were the most important thing that someone could buy. Soldiers marched in unison, following the steps of their fathers as they skirted the edge of the crowd. John's banner hung loosely on their poles and on their capes, and his colors flew lazily in the soft breeze. Levi took a deep breath, before walking down the stone steps, disappearing into the crowd.
Bobby
Lyra Beaumont
Northwind

_"You help me."_

Lyra practically balked. The creature's voice, meager and raspy, seemed to have slithered into her mind, snaking in places uninvited, and too lukewarm to blend with her own consciousness. In a moment, it felt like her heart thudded with more alarm against her chest. A shiver went down her spine. Did that... _thing_ just speak to her?

She couldn't make out what the thing was, exactly. But the amber, beady-looking eyes peering at her through the underbrush were telling enough. It wasn't human. She imagined it could have been a host of things, friendly or otherwise. Whatever it was, its voice seemed oddly familiar, as if it tapped into a distant memory. The amulet around her neck seemed to react to it, too. Feeling it pulse, Lyra flinched and snatched her hand away from it. The amulet's stone glowed violet, giving one last departing shine before dimming. 

Making a mental note to check on... _that,_ later, Lyra drew in a deep breath, weighing her options. If all else failed, she could kill off the somehow-sentient creature if its demands were too much for her to handle — or too little for her to care about. And if it didn't take kindly to being neutralized by her blade, a hearty scream would do. But even these trajectories felt incomplete. Within her, deep enough to feel almost indiscernible from a muscle cramp or a stray chill, was a desire to not only keep this thing alive, but to keep it _with_ her. The notion was eerie. Why would she want something so creepy and crawly?

Still, she knelt down and nodded her head, even though she doubted the torch she carried illuminated her that much to set off the affirming gesture. Her light armor clinked, and she set her knife down by her foot. With it free, she extended it toward the creature. "Yes. I will," She said. It seemed to be able to discern spoken speech well enough, so she didn't dare try communicating through her mind, especially without knowing if she actually could.

Lyra tilted her head, intending to keep playing nice.

"I only came here because we heard you, you know," She said, trying not to let her typically critical tone seep in too heavily. "Do you need food? Safe passage? We can help. Just tell me what you need."