James
The battle in which Thyri found herself an inextricable part had the same rapidity as a flash of lightning, a sudden intensity that came without much warning. Of course, as a seasoned merchant and blacksmith, she would probably know that these back roads, through thick, untamed forests, came rife with danger. Goblins, Orcs, Hags and other creatures frequently inhabited such places, hiding away from the more significant part of civilization - ever fearful of when Aeterna's grand armies of Demigods and Champions would crash down on them next. By all rights and accounts, these lands were relatively safe.

Of course, they had their challenges. But it wasn't the same as the demon-and-monster-ridden wastes to the north and east. The land from which Yrsa hailed was a barren, snow-covered wasteland controlled and vied for by over a hundred kings, warlords, chieftains, and vagabonds. None of them could rouse armies of Aeterna's size or scale, yet their seemingly perpetual warring was different: constant raids back and forth.

Perhaps it wouldn't be correct to say such an environment bred hardier warriors. The warriors Aeterna brought to the field tended to be in a class of their own, well equipped in both arms and armour—perhaps, in part, due to the efforts of Thyri herself? Yet, a battle like the night before was no realm for vast armies. A Troll of the like they found was large but equally stealthy by sheer virtue of staying isolated, a single horror hidden within the thick pine forests.

From a particular perspective, the barbarian figuratively brought a small part of her homeland to these realms, a sense of chaos wherever she went. Undoubtedly, if they meant to continue travelling together through these desolate parts of the Empire, their journey would likely continue to be arduous. .. Did they truly desire such companionship? Alcuin was well-acquainted with the woods, but was he not far from home? Thyri had joined their encampment to receive the alchemist's healing, to recuperate properly, but did she not also have her own interests in mind within these regions? - her clients were relatively close to here, right? They needed her *Weapons*, and here she was with these random strangers ...!

The witch-seer who once guided the berserker remarked that fate had strange ways of showing its hand. In truth, Yrsa paid it no heed; she wasn't ever the most spiritual type. But things were happening—perhaps beyond what could be explained. In Thyri's case, her acquaintance with runecraft and similar magicks might have strange influences infringe upon her dreams while she slept- if she slept-. Memories of a giant, ursine beast who tended to a forest thicket. It was of similar coloration as the bear-shaped barbarian but *Far* Larger and far more imposing. Even within the dream space, its spiritual presence was massive .. Like staring at a forest fire trapped within a body of fur, claws and teeth. It was a forest thicket covered by snow, within which large trees - larger than any of this land - grew; trees that had written on them the same types of **Runes** As the ones with which the *Blacksmith worked!*

Well, whether any portion of those images filtered into the blacksmith's mind at night was entirely up to her and her abilities. But Yrsa's transformation back and forth was intrinsically... Not so much magical as *Spiritual.* The blacksmith had felt it the night before, right? That shadow that accompanied it. Whatever it meant, it was bound to be significant.

For now, though, the world had thankfully settled back into a steady normality. There were no epic world-ending battles against fierce Trolls or desperate last stands against Goblins. Furthermore, the *Rain, hail and snow finally lifted!* The weather within this place seemed to frequently alter between the three, but for the moment, a steady trail of gentle sunlight shone through the tall pines, reflecting off the forest dew and bathing the land in a dazzling array of sparkles. The scent of wet moss, snow and dirt was all around, and— oh, **GODS** .. It would probably *Take a second to get used to!* But bears had this *Scent* To them. And while Yrsa frequently switched back and forth, the stench of BEAR MUSK seemed to perpetuate throughout the encampment.

It was a humble encampment. But in this part of the forest, with no town or village or what have you for miles around? It was the best they'd get. There were three dwellings of various shapes: two tents. One belonged to Alcuin, who could give a good tour of his makeshift alchemical and herbal lab. He was always busy picking flowers and mushrooms, and Yrsa *Heard* Him get up to shenanigans at night? So she just half-assumed he had turned his tent into a witch's cauldron. As for the other tent, that one belonged to the *Forefather of the Bog*, Tolius Olosim! An elderly but legendary wizard. He had other commitments in the past few days, necessitating his temporary absence, and the tent didn't seem in use currently.

It would be wrong to call Yrsa's dwelling a tent. It was more of a dug-up patch of earth, a bear hole, on which she had strung a portion of a tree branch to provide cover from the rain. In this way, she combined her bear traits by clawing up the earth, digging about two feet into the ground - half a metre - with her Human intellect by stringing up that tree. It provided less cover from the elements, but she wasn't as concerned with those anyway. And she did stay relatively dry.

In the here and now, which was undoubtedly more important than flitting dreams and little specks of information here and there, the warrior with whom Thyri had fought beside was **Nowhere to be seen.** Or, well, she had arrived at the encampment the night before, around the same time as her two companions did. They could've SEEN her withdraw into her little hovel. But it was already after midday; the sun had already reached its peak — hell, it must've been one or two P.M.! And yet, there was no sign of her. Aside from the prolonged, loud, obnoxious, drawn-out SNORING that drew out from her place, there was no physical sign of her. It had gotten pretty late last night! But Alcuin would *Probably* Be able to tell that this? .. These habits? Yea, Yrsa *Always* Slept in, sometimes even until the late afternoon. Better to let her sleep, too, as she tended to be very grumpy if she had to wake up too early.

How lazy could someone be?! Besides, the blacksmith still had to give her a lecture on weapons, right? They'd probably be long awake by the time she finally stirred from her slumber.
Ramon
Alcuin was now long accustomed to his routine before Yrsa woke. Some herbs were best harvested while morning dew still clung to them, and with the change in weather he especially didn't want to miss opportunities to gather in better conditions. Besides, the rate at which Yrsa (sometimes literally) ate through his supplies meant going out to gather was a near constant necessity. He found he didn't mind much, since so much of his routine before he met her was alone anyway. Going on his rounds to see patients and deliver potions was the most interaction he ever got in a day; the rest was left to him and his thoughts. His mind had been unsettlingly quiet as of late, the whispers that had become near friends almost subsiding entirely. His powers hadn't waned any, so he wasn't entirely afraid the connection had been severed but...*Something* Wasn't right. Yet he had no way to find out why or how; his patroness decided if, when, and how she spoke to him. So he must wait.

It was nice, for a change, to return to camp in the morning hours and be greeted by a smiling face. Thyri was certainly a welcome addition to their little group, in many ways. It seemed she had much to offer, but for the moment, Alcuin was just glad to have company. He wasn't sure how long the blacksmith would be with them, but he was determined to enjoy every minute he could. His time with Yrsa had made him more excited to meet new people, gave him hope that sometimes there would be people who liked him and really would stick around. He had spent the morning with her, getting her acquainted and up to speed on their little camp. He had left again mid-day to go gathering elsewhere, knowing Yrsa ate everything in sight after a transformation; they'd need every edible thing they could find. While he still didn't much care for meat himself, he'd learned how to set traps for small critters, and checked them at least a few times a day.

Returning with a bag near to bursting with the spoils of the land, the alchemist sat down next to the blacksmith in the mid-afternoon. He began to unpack the bag he always carried for gathering, revealing fresh mushrooms just washed in a nearby stream. **"It isn't much,"** He spoke warmly as he worked, putting the mushrooms on little skewers, **"But it'll keep us from starving."** He placed them over what remained of the fire. Though it was a bit low, it was a perfect temperature for roasting vegetables. He'd stoke it more soon, after he prepared the three rabbits he managed to catch. With a knowing twinkle in his eye and a wry smile, he warned the blacksmith, **"Whether you're hungry or not, I'd advise you to eat now. Once our ursine friend wakes, there may be nothing left. And while she's willing to share, taking food from her right after a transformation just makes her cranky."** His features scrunched up momentarily, **"Trust me, it's not worth it."**

Once the warlock had gotten in a rhythm with his work, his mind drifted. He'd felt the now familiar satisfaction at killing something when he killed the rabbits, but it felt... Hollow, somehow, as if distant. He'd had strange dreams last night, too, of eyes watching him from the shadows, being pulled into the darkness and, literally, ripped in two by two entities. But it was all darkness and screams; other than being unsettling, he didn't know what to make of it. The coppery scent of blood from the rabbits brought him back to the present, and he stared at his hands for a moment. He held one open, fingers outstretched. It was only him and Thyri at the camp now, so naturally he jolted, when he both saw *And* Felt a pale hand with long dark fingernails placing his skinning knife in his open hand and closing his digits around it. He stood suddenly, nearly throwing the rabbit in the fire, and looked around frantically.

A feminine voice, different than the usual, whispered in Alcuin's ear and made his hair stand on end. *Killll herrrr.* His golden brown eyes landed on Thyri, filled with fear. What was happening?? He looked around saw nothing. His new friend only looked at him quizzically. Sitting back down and clearing his throat, he went back to cleaning the rabbit with trembling hands. His voice was strained when he spoke, **"You didn't just... See or hear anything... Right?"** He hated having to ask such things, but, there was only one way to know. And if Thyri was to join them, he supposed it would all come out eventually anyway.
Brian
For Thyri, she was hoping for a grand rest after such a long and arduous battle. After receiving enough healing to make sure she wouldn't keel over during the night, and a good meal to fill her stomach that wasn't dried meat, she had practically passed out the moment her head hit her bedroll. It wasn't as restful as she wished, strange symbols appearing on trees that she could read, a large lumbering bear stalking through the woods? Just what sort of dream was she even having. She'd likely not remember any of the symbols when she woke, but she wasn't going to forget the dream itself.

The smell around the camp was... *Difficult* To handle. Her nose was scrunched up for quite a while as she tended to her cart to make sure it hadn't been damaged in the battle, she also took time to check over the weaponry that was inside. They were each individually wrapped to protect them from the elements, so it took a fair bit of time to rewrap each one. She had unfortunately gotten up much earlier than she had wished. Thyri had a habit of waking up right before dawn broke to prepare her shop for the day. It was a decent habit to have whilst travelling, but not a fun one to have when injured.

She was fairly groggy even as the hours passed. Her movements slow and sluggish, still half asleep and nearly unwilling to wake up. But still she stood, and went about what tasks she needed to do. She wasn't going to be staying in a camp for free after all. She was quite happy to help with any tasks there were. She was still hanging around to speak with the warrior woman, though Thyri had to admit, she was *Shocked* By how much the woman could sleep. Hearing the snoring constantly as the sun passed overheard? It almost felt like the snoring was fake and some sort of echo that kept bouncing back and forth.

** **
But as the time passed on, Thyri found herself with one of the ordered weapons upon her lap, thinking about the dream as she ran her hand over the blade. In her mind, she read over the runes that were carved upon the weapon what must have been nearly a thousand times. She was trying to remember each rune upon the trees within her dreams. Trying to remember each symbol. It wasn't often she had dreams that contained runes.

But she was soon broken out of her musings when the alchemist arrived. She flashed him a friendly, yet tired smile as she looked at him. She was rather appreciative of his efforts in healing her, it wasn't often that someone was willing to spare both time and a healing potion to a traveller. 

It was certainly better than just being stabbed and having one's equipment stolen.

She couldn't help but watch as the mushrooms were placed onto the fire. The smell was already making her mouth water. She had skipped lunch, and was mostly planning to eat around dinner. But to see such a thing being cooked? Well, she just couldn't help herself. **"Gods above, 'ow'd ya know I was starving?"** She let out a small laugh as she hefted the large blade off of her lap to rest beside her. She didn't want to drop any food on it and have to polish it through most of the afternoon. But the rabbits were what she was most excited about. Rabbit stew was one of her favourite meals, and to have it in such a snowy land would be a blessing. She could already remember the times she would sit by the windows back home, watching the snow fall for hours as she had a warm bowl of stew with her.

Gods. It had been such a lovely time each winter.

** **
Then, the alchemist did something that she had not been expecting to do at all.

He suddenly stood. She could see a hint of fear in his eyes, so she was immediately set on edge despite her tiredness. She believed that it was some sort of creature that had entered the camp, and she was quick to begin glancing around, searching the treeline for any movement. She didn't want to have to use a customers weapon, but she believed that they would accept the excuse of having to use it if she was attacked.

But soon, she noticed that there was nothing around. The only movement was caused by the trees. Her gaze turned to confusion as she looked back at Alcuin, and heard his question. **"Uh... No, I did not. Why? Did ya see something?"** Now she stood, could it have been some sort of creature that was based on sight or sound? Some sort of hallucination? Maybe these mushrooms weren't all that safe...
James
For sure, something... Something *Dastardly* Stirred, an evil so heinous that the Gods would find themselves fainting before its very presence. Compared to the night before, which was quite frankly terrible, there was a warmth around the encampment, not only due to the comforts of their fire and the gentle rays of the sun. Maybe somewhere, someone had perceived their battle - and deemed them worthy of a momentary respite? Alcuin and Thyri appeared so taken by whatever stalked the warlock that the most actual evil momentarily appeared to pass them by. 

A dirt-stained hand suddenly erupted from Yrsa's bear burrow, lunging forward and clenching firm about a collection of moss, mud and snow, fingers tense and the wrist visibly strained. It was like a picture straight out of a necromancer's spellbook, but it was *Even worse* Than that .. BECAUSE ANOTHER FOLLOWED. By all the Gods, how *Late* Must it have been?! The sun had long reached its peak and was already starting to settle into a comfortable midday. Why, it would only be an hour or four until it turned NIGHT again,... Just... The sheer lack of discipline! The audacity! The-

Yrsa yawned loudly and smacked her lips together. With her hand and arm extended, she slowly - emphasis on slow - dragged herself out of her hole. And if Thyri needed any more confirmation, .. Sure enough, she entered that thing as a large brown bear but now erupted from it as the berserker she had seen initially. Once people got acquainted, the signs were *So* Obvious; again, the coloration of her hair, her blue eyes, .. Even her bearing! Shapeshifted, she presented herself as a young adult brown bear with a relatively large build. In Human form, too, she looked like a young adult human - surely no older than eighteen winters at most - with a build of fat and muscles.

And whereas her companion, Alcuin, she always thought to have some natural elven *Finesse* .. Well, she was like the direct opposite. Dragging herself out of her hole, she accidentally knocked her head into a stray branch. She failed to get up to her feet even a reasonable distance from her hole, and her manner of movement could best be described as the 'reverse butt-scoot' — almost like a snail! She looked CLUMSY. CLUMSY, stubborn and lazy! And the SMELL .. Well, if Thyri had a problem with that before, it somehow clung to her like a *Cloud.*

Some four paces from her bear burrow, she groggily pushed herself up to her knees and then her feet. A second yawn followed, and she gracefully had her right rear-half interact with her nails because she was itchy. Was she sure she didn't have any fleas yet in these warmer climates? Yeah, she was pretty scared of that. She hated fleas. Her homeland killed them. Because fleas hated cold and frozen temperatures.

These temperatures also froze lakes and such. But it was still warm.

Quite frankly, the alchemist was *Way* Too good for her. Thyri could see that, too, right? The blacksmith had been busting her behind helping out with the chores and such, and meanwhile, this already permanent member of the party - Yrsa - hadn't helped out with a single thing!! And it was easy to see what roused her, too. She stood silent momentarily, stretching her limbs, her nose wrinkling a *Little..*

A thick, icky tendril of drool ran down her lips. She swallowed loudly and fixated her eyes on the campfire. Her eyes were barely open, and as she resolved herself to make her way over to the Elf, it was more akin to a drunken stumble and stagger; "My friend Witch-Alcuin, t'is this I must say ... I had the weirdest dream last night! Hah! It was mighty. And almost felt real!" She blustered without a single bit of regard for *Anyone* Other than herself. Also, the only reason she knew him to be awake was that he was cooking food for her, and she just, y'know, assumed he'd be there.

"Yet .. I cannot say that it was. For, it had too many strange things in it. For one, who would complain about my choppers? I for one cannot imagine this. Then, perhaps, it was also a nightmare.."

Yrsa hummed to herself and dumbly made her way over to a log beside the fire, plopping into a seat and placing a hand upon her chin.. Giving it some thought.

Of course, Alcuin was used to her manner of speech. But for Thyri? The barbarian girl spoke with a thick accent, emphasizing vowels greatly while also cutting them off. Her voice was rough around the edges but also a little perky, almost reminiscent of her ursine vocalizations—just not as deep. If the blacksmith had family members of similar heritage, she might have recognized it; it was like a bastardized form of the Imperial language.

"No.. No. I do not think this was a nightmare. Because, I won. And also.. My uncle was not in this. He was not dead or dying. This is why I know."

She nodded sagely, still not seeming to have properly noticed THYRI. And sure enough, Alcuin knew her like few did at the moment. She leaned sideways to cheekily sneak one of the raw rabbits away from him, her eyes finally widening with interest as she presented it to herself. Her conversation so far had been more loose comments and stray thoughts, which probably made sense due to the lethargy she always felt whenever she transformed. It wasn't *As* Bad right now, which was pretty straightforward because she had only spent a couple of hours in her bear form. It mainly was the exertion she pulled off against the Troll that was biting her at the moment, but she seemed *Reasonably* Tolerable for a change.

Still a slug. But at least a somewhat responsive slug.

And it was probably *So* Incredibly disgusting to see how she manhandled that rabbit. She just brought it up to her face and sunk her teeth into the raw meat, tearing away a good, squishy and greasy chunk - intestines and all - with blood running down her face. As with her vestigial ursine strength, she *Probably* Carried some of her bear resistances to raw meat, too, given how she tore into it without hesitation.

It was only then that the haze before her eyes started to clear. And that the world filtered itself into her view properly.

Huh.

Alcuin sorta seemed... Occupied with something? She wasn't sure what. But she hadn't smelled any intruders and was pretty sure she could whack 'em anyway, so.. - and then there was-

"However...!! I slew a Troll in this. Of course, this is not so strange. But it was still a good fight. I think, perhaps, it may be a dream from my homeland. The witch once said; Yrsa, .. Dreams.. Bladi... Bla... Uh... Something... I forgot. Something with dreams, yes."

-.. And then there was Thyri. Yrsa just kept *Snacking* On her rabbit, entirely ignorant of the blacksmith's presence until she figuratively got HIT IN THE FACE WITH IT. The berserker *Stared* At her for a moment - an unsettling stare lasting perhaps three or four seconds. Then, she glanced at Alcuin and glanced back at Thyri. She blinked, tried to wipe the dust out of her eyes, and then reaffirmed her sight **Again.**

"Alcuin. .. Do not be alarmed. But, I think... I may be a witch myself. I seem to have magicked my dream into ... Our camp. Can you see it, too?"
Ramon
The warlock stood there a moment more before dropping the knife and putting his face in his hands, which inadvertently smeared rabbit blood all over it. Pulling one hand away, he side-eyed Thyri with the one chocolate eye that was visible, half of a soft frown also peeking out from his hand. His voice was gentle as usual yet somewhat defeated, **"Wonderful. It's coming back then... Can't say that I'm relieved, though part of me feels maybe I should be..."** With a sigh, he addressed Thyri more directly as he picked up the knife, wiped it off, and continued his task wearing a worried expression, **"I have... Bouts of insanity, is all. So it must've been a vision."** He didn't dare look the blacksmith in the face, as he couldn't hand the judgment or the questions he feared would be there; he had questions of his own, and answers for none of it. Yrsa's emergence from her burrow was a welcome interruption, in more ways than one. The elf listened to her with patience, not speaking up until she had seemed to have gotten it all out. As he listened to her prattle on, his worry slowly melted away, replaced by a small smile. 
** **

**"I think you'll find, my friend, that it was quite real, and no dream at all."** Alcuin's voice was bright and cheery, full of warmth, with little trace of the worry and fear that had just been consuming him. Better to deal with that later, though... Such a command was very worrisome. And the intensity with which he felt it... His connection to the demoness hadn't felt quite like this before; his thoughts and visions weren't exclusively violent, sometimes they were... His tanned cheeks reddened at the thought, and he shoved it away hastily. It certainly wasn't the time or place for *That* Kind of thinking. Regardless, he could do nothing about it at the present moment, so he turned to other matters, saying almost absentmindedly, **"You really should tell me more about your uncle sometime, Yrsa. He seems quite important to you."** Though they'd spent a good bit of time together, Alcuin still didn't know so much about Yrsa and her past; the same could be said the other way around, as well.
** **

Speaking softly to Thyri, Alcuin handed her a skewer of mushrooms, **"Sorry, again. I didn't mean to startle you. Yrsa's rather used to it by now."** Seeing the uncertainty in the woman's face, the herbalist tried to reassure her, **"I promise these are safe to eat, what you saw was just... Me."** He turned away sheepishly, having forgot what it had been like initially to talk to Yrsa about these things. But then again, Yrsa didn't exactly have a normal reaction to it anyway. He was quite fearful of what a more civilized person might think. His ursine friend chomping down on the raw rabbit caught his attention as he got distracted from preparing the stew. He found himself staring, first with weakened disgust, as he was getting more accustomed to it, yet also with a longing much stronger than what he had felt before when he found her tearing into the deer carcass. It was a strange feeling, something between hunger and affection, and he was interrupted from sorting it out by another hair-raising whisper that felt like it was right behind him. *Ooo, I like this one. Keep her around.* Trying not to alert Thyri any further, he turned his head slowly to look behind; he knew there would be nothing there. But he was more unsettled by how the voice was *Different*; it wasn't Alekhya anymore.
** **

Yrsa's jovial musings brought him back to the moment, and he found himself chuckling despite the terror crawling up his spine slowly. He shook his head before regarding the barbarian girl with a crooked smile, **"You might be a witch, but not because of this. It seems you met Thyri while fighting that troll, and she helped you fell it. She's a blacksmith from the Eternal City."** His smile widened into a broad grin, as he focused on his joy to share the news with her now that she was more conscious, **"She says she can help us find the mercenary's guild you were looking for."**