Leon
She watched him with an impressed gaze when he found the man with no hesitation and fought her way through the crowded brawl. If she had been a human female, Marsila would have been buried under all the bodies but instead, she managed to come out on the other end with her hair styled into a birds nest and her clothes torn. 

Using her hands, she combed her fingers through her scalp and down to the ends of her hair, fixing the mess to her best ability. As she did so, she looked towards the man who shook like he was going to piss his pants from fear. It was aimed towards Rekkan but she couldn't care less. "Yes it is." Was her simple reply before she caught the sound of guard storming towards the tavern. "Shit." She panicked out as her head snapped towards the entrance of the Tavern. 

Before she could waste another second, Marsila kicked her foot towards the drunk's head, instantly knocking him out. She then went down to his feet and lifted them up before she raised her head to look at Rekkan. "Guards are coming, I have a room upstairs that we can take him. We don't have long so help me carry the body."
David
The guy never agreed to be part of drunken and piss drenched man carrying, but what is he going to do? He can't turn down a woman's request— rather, he can, but he chooses not to.

With a quick squat, the man sends his hands under the man and hooks each on the armpits. He lifts him up, though he does not weigh much at all. It is the union of two beings packing a good level of strength both, so it is easy for transport. Rekkan already takes the first step, walking backwards toward the stairs. His feet gain speed as he hops back one foot at a time, just as the guards storm the tavern wielding spears or shields.

"What is this?! You're all good for nothing thugs!! Everybody down on the ground!" They waste no time imposing law and order, though their means to attain peace are in the form of shield bashes and striking at the patrons with the blunt end of their hilts or the sides of their spears. There is always the off chance of someone dying in these pacifying operations.

"A tad faster, short legs." He taunts the woman again, finishing the climb going two or three cases up at a time.
Leon
Marsila rolled her eyes towards his comment about her legs. As they neared the door to her room, she nodded her head in it's direction since her hands were full. "It's that one." 

As they carried the body into her room, she felt the back of her shirt being latched onto and widened her eyes in shock. Her arms released the legs of the unconscious thug when she was pulled out of the room so she wouldn't be dragged out along with her. Before the thug's friend could throw her over the rails and into the crowd who were still brawling, Marsila latched onto the doorframe which resulted the back of her shirt to tear. If anyone did any more damage to her clothing, she was sure to end up without a shirt. 

Spinning on her heels the moment he had no hold on her, Marsila grabbed onto the front of his shirt and his left arm before throwing him into the room. Immediately after, the door was slammed shut and drowned sound of drunks being beaten into submission. Marsila was glad that she couldn't get drunk. Sure, she had tried multiple times but it never affected her. 

Before the man could rush to his mate's side, Marsila jumped onto the thug's back. Her legs wrapped tightly around his waste as her right arm wrapped around his neck. She squeezed tightly around his throat while he threw his back into the walls as she refused to release him until his knees buckled from beneath. Once she knew he lost consciousness, Marsila stood herself up and stepped to the side so she was no longer standing over him. For good measure, she kicked at his head, more out of annoyance than anything. 

Her chest raised and fell with a quick pace as she panted, acting like she had finished a marathon as she turned to focus on the man who had been in her room. "Well that was a highlight to my evening." She sarcastically commented to herself.
David
Following on the signal and being quick to have her open the door and shuffle inside, Rekkan is a couple of feet away from the action, yet able to see the female's shirt being torn and her instinct kicking in to defend herself and drag another drunkard into the room. At this point in time, having two knocked out thugs after the display of brutal revenge on the second one, he has... No clue what she is looking to do here. In fact, he makes it more obvious with a proper smack of his right palm to his face.

"Now that we have two knocked out drunks in your room, can you explain exactly why you asked to carry this lump of a human being in here?" He is not annoyed, nor exactly bothered, but something in his mind is gnawing at his sense of logic. Maybe it is that he's ignorant to her ways, or simply confused about the whole situation. Unfortunately for them, it's all going to get... Worse.

As the panic at ground level is contained, more guards pour in to reinforce the law and share on the sadism distributed this evening. A group of them go up, banging on doors to get to the remaining patrons. When a room or another fall silent they tend to bashing the door open and assaulting it, only to drag anyone that is inside out. Rekkan hearkens to the sounds of intrusion and sighs. "No end to this. Do you plan on sticking around?"
Leon
She didn't blame him for his confusion but she couldn't exactly throw him over the rails like he had planned on doing to her. She preferred not to murder people. So instead, she dragged him inside to knock him out. Hearing the guardsmen nearing them, she began to panic. Rushing to the thug they had carried upstairs, Marsila placed her hands on both sides of his face so she could study every feature to remember what he looked like before leaning in to his ear as if she was whispering to him. Instead, Marsila inhaled his scent deeply so she would find it easier to track him down again. 

"This bastard and a couple others broke in here last night and stole something valuable of mine." As she spoke, she reminded herself to take deep breaths. She had to stay in control. She would get her revenge but for now, her and this man had to escape. She didn't handle law enforcement well. Standing up, the shifter immediately went to grab the nearest chair and threw it towards the window. The glass shattered as the chair broke through, leaving them with an escape. "I'm out of here." She called out, not bothered to look behind her as she heard the door break open. Pushing herself from the window sill, Marsila fell towards the ground while hoping Rekkan would follow and landed in a crouch.
David
The female panics. This is the second time, the second Rekkan notices so far. He sees her lean in on the man and sniff him, akin to a beast marking prey. How peculiar. The wanderer is not one to judge, especially when she claims he took something valuable of hers. Granted, she will be returning to retrieve whatever it is he and his friends stole. However, she does not want to be thrown in jail with the lot of them. Jail isn't exactly the best place in the city. Not because one is confined, but rather due to all the abuse one is susceptible to. The guy himself is not worried about that course of destiny, but it is not one that he will follow. Instead, he is rubbing the topmost phalanx of his index finger with the apex of his thumb, friction giving magical birth to a tiny, warm ember.

The window's wooden frame and glass cover is broken by a chair Marsila throws. All the fragments and pieces fall onto the hard soil of the street just as the guards begin their assault on the door. When the girl jumps, Rekkan is following, setting one foot on the sill and another leaping off the floor of the bedroom. His body pivots in this, turning his shape to face the guards coming in as the dark of night shrouds the large veil of red and his rugged expression in darkness.

"Stop!!" Orders one of the guards, however late to their escape. That tiny fragment of inert fire is flicked by index like a sling. As it hits the ground, so too starts the descent of the man, basking the room in blinding light, like lightning flashing and thunder booming inside. This is just a mere magic trick, he dubs it, temporarily disabling the guards, dazzling them.

One could say that Rekkan is close to crushing the girl, though he did use that support on the sill to push himself further off than she would have. Instead, his cloak drapes her in his fall, his larger mass towering over hers. The guy pulls his cloak and snickers. "So sorry~. Where shall we be heading? If you don't mind me tagging along, that is." He thinks that there might be more fun coming his way if he follows her, perhaps in the form of some challenge or simply entertainment. Who knows?
Leon
She looked towards the man in front of her with her jaw hanging low. She was shocked to say the least and had thought he was murdering the guards but realised it was a mere trick when she couldn't smell the stench of burning flesh. Regaining her composure, this man truely interested her so she was more than happy that he decided to tag along side her. "I don't know." Stumbled out a reply before looking up towards the window with her brows furrowed, trying to see through the blinding light until she was forced to look away. "Just follow me." 

Without missing a beat, Marsila began to sprint away from the tavern. She wanted to get as far away from the authority that stormed into the tavern, no thanks to them, before figuring what her next plan was. As she ran, she couldn't help the questions flooding her mind. Why did they even choose the two of them to harass? Especially when one of them had been in her apartment. She couldn't help but shake the feeling that it was more than a coincidence. Nonetheless, she was planning on finding the answers. It should be a lot easier now this guy planned on tagging along with her. 

As they passed a few blocks, Marsila began to slow her pace to a jog. She could tell no one had followed them or else she would have sensed them, but in case she was missing something, the shifter kept aware of her surroundings. Her eyes turned to the large male beside her and held out her hand for him to shake. "I'm Marsila. Thanks for trying to help me out back there."
David
Rekkan might have the same questions that Marsila has in his mind, but if he does, he does not share them. For him, being targeted by the law enforcement is just an everyday arrangement, something preordained by the heavens or the wheels of fate, however one may be encouraged to interpret it. Coincidence alone does not cling to his shadow.

After several blocks, the notion of safety settles in Marsila. She slows down into a jog, with the man in tow, until they stop short a few feet off the main streets. She gives Rekkan her hand for a shake, a politeness he is not about to turn away. With respect for her overall attitude and strength, the guy does not hold back in the handshake. He sockets the crook between thumb and index on hers and lets digits wrap tightly around her. It is a firm squeeze, with his hand nearly drowning hers in the rough and callused flesh of the warrior.

"My name is Rekkan." He says, lips already cracking into the same haughty smirk, quite one his trademark. Yet his tone remains cold, if a little distant.

The swordsman without a visible sword releases his grip after but a solid moment, a brief passage of time that reflects much in that exchange of shakes. His is a resolute stance, she oughta remember that. If he chose to help her, it is because he finds her interesting in kind. "We need a place to spend the night. Do you have any contacts we could use? As last resort, I have set up camp not far from town."
Leon
She did her best to not flinch from the handshake. Even though she was strong, it didn't mean she couldn't feel pain unless adrenaline was pumping through her veins. Once her released her hand, she clenched and unclenched her fist as the pain began to instantly fade. It was great to finally learn the name of this warrior, she made sure to not forget his name as she made it a bad habit to do so. 

When he asked if she had any contacts, Marsila immediately shook her head. Her parents were a kingdom away and she planned on staying far from them while Abraham was in the southern Isles the last she heard. "I don't sorry. I'm not into socialising so I don't have many friends and all my money was stolen. I don't trust anyone who doesn't have the decency to return it. We will have to go to wherever your camping spot it." 

A sudden breeze brushed against Marsila's bare back, resulting in small bumps raising over her skin. She completely forgot she had a torn shirt so they would need to get her something to cover herself before they ventured off any further. "Do you have anything I can wrap myself in?" She didn't want to steal from any of the homes they were near but also didn't want to freeze and get bitten by blood sucking insects.
David
The guy is observant of Marsila and now she clenches and unclenches her hand. Come on, he wasn't intending on hurting her, it was just a firm shake. It does make a low chuckle slip out of his core like a bellow that rumbles up his chest and neck, out subtly from his sealed lips.

Listening to her reply, the man nods and thus decides to plot the course out of the walls and into the wilderness. As he recalls, he came in through the eastern gate, with the first treeline of the woods not being a long walk from there.

"Right, your shirt has been torn." He remembers the circumstance and doesn't take long to offer her what he can. His hands disappear into his cloak and push it up, unveiling his frame for the first time. He doesn't care much about folding the wraps that will protect the girl from the cold. His own body is a source of heat. The Vema girl can let her gaze wander through this frame, not to admire ripped muscle but to perceive the years invested in his body. Covering his fiber and donning his skin are several marks : scars and bruises from a plethora of battles, of duels and even the most trivial of falls. Only a feeble tunic protects his torso, with sleeves long lost somewhere. This better reveals his shoulders and arms, which are thick, but not exactly exaggerated. They are warrior limbs after all, not a body builder's.

From his hands, she may remove the cloak, gazing at the palms, as calluses as they are singed and scarred. It is not only the sword that makes it so, but a background of torture and resistance, of plowing fields and mastering the flame too.

"Keep it until we find something that better suits you. Shall we?" And without expecting an answer, he turns on his heel and makes his way to the main street, turning to the Eastern gate.
Leon
Her eyes scanned over every marking that scarred his body. She could only imagine how many fights he had been included in whether it was a simple bar brawl like they had been involved with earlier or as soldier in a war. Seeing as he kept his answers to himself, she decided to do the same. 

To her luck, she only had small scarring on the top of three fingers when she had gone to eat with a silver utensil. That was when she learnt that silver harmed her. Any non-silver weapons didn't harm her permanently but it did pain her whenever she was to be cut. Other than that, her skin bore no other scar so she could have easily been mistaken for someone who had never participated in a fight. She first found out about her healing abilities when she was sparring with her father. He had cut her thigh when she had was distracted one morning, but before he could do anything her skin healed over within minutes. They were completely amazed by it. 

Focusing on the present, Marsila wrapped the cloak around her body, engulfing herself in the warmth before following Rekkan. She found no difficulty in keeping up with the large Warrior, her eyes darting around to observe her surroundings. "So how far is this camp?"
David
They walk past the checkpoint at the gate without an utterance or grievance by the guard. To the men stationed in this wall, it is like the tavern brawl never happened. That is good enough. Rekkan hearken to the question of the girl shortly after, turning his head for a moment to not only acknowledge her words but supply her with the answer she seeks. "Not far. It's just a bit past the edge of the woods." True to his words, he leads Marsila to a small camp with little else but a bedroll made of fur and a dead fire, made of ash and charred wood. "Welcome to my humble abode."

He is comfortable with sleeping outside, always have been. Rekkan lives a nomadic life ever since leaving home, wandering the lands in search of thrills beyond the trivial affairs and desires of other men. To the East, he has been called a demon and a saint, though where exactly is still a mystery. One can say that he has journeyed the unknown world and knows far less of the civilised cultures than the dark corners of the globe. Still, that is but a theory.

"Feel free to sleep in the bedroll. Before you turn down, I insist. Don't mistake it for chivalry, I will simply take the first watch." The man states, already moving towards one of the trees. "You can ask me anything, if you are not yet tired, but I'd prefer you rest as much as you can. Tomorrow we will deal with having your stolen money returned to you." With that, he climbs up the tree like a money, vanishing in the lush branches and leaves, but still at ear range. His voice a bit muffled, Marsila can hear his low chant and a mystical energy settling in the area, like a see through veil that permeates the atmosphere. If she is versed in magics, she might be aware that this is a cloak as much as it is an alarm for intruders, working most naturally where there is more flora. Thus, he needs not use so much energy.
Leon
As she witnessed his camp, a perfectly shaped brow arched. She had never slept outside the walls of a building but didn't waste time in making herself comfortable in the bedroll. She wasn't going to argue with him, instead she looked up towards the tree he had climbed with her head resting against the fur. It wasn't difficult to notice the shimmering reflection the shield made when looked at close enough. She felt the need to question him about his strange ability but did not trust him enough to answer his own questions if it came down to it. 

As he took watch while hidden in the trees, Marsila began to recount the events of today. The thug's face had burned into her mind to the point where she saw it whenever she closed her eyes. She didn't want to forget his face as it had been her only clue since her belongings were stolen. 

Her gaze shifted towards the stars in the sky while the sounds of birds and the insects that sung to the night sky. Her eyelids began to grow heavy until she eventually passed out. As she slept, her dreams started as a peaceful image of her enjoying herself with a group of strangers. They were all laughing, like someone had humoured them with a joke she hadn't caught. In the corner of the room, she could see an image of a large cat, silently waiting in the shadows while assessing them with bloodlusted eyes. 

Whilst Marsila dream began to turn from a paradise to a nightmare, her body began to twitch every now and then. It was like she was fighting off the dream as a few words that sounded like mere jibberish mumbled from her lips. Talking in her sleep with unrecognisable words.
David
The wanderer is focused on his surroundings, objectively scouring the woods with his eyes and spiritual link to the nature that wraps around his soul. Of all the struggling nights, this one is to give him pause. The predators that prowl the dark keep away this once, though they skirt around the shield and the presence of another that complements security.

However, it does not take long for the large man to feel a disturbance, thus turning his attention to the root of that discrepancy. Peering down through the rustling leaves and wavering branches, he can see the body of his current companion twitch and noises spout from her lips. The longer he watches, the more compelled he is to intervene, although a rude awakening often takes a sour turn for the man. Despite this, he seems keen on trying to grant a good night's rest, slipping down from his vantage point to walk to the side of the bedroom and kneel. With his knees and shin on the ground, Rekkan places his hands forward, with palms hovering over the tucked body of the shifter.

"Let's see..." He mutters to himself, being somewhat invasive in his shamanistic methods. In order to keep her intimacy unsullied, thus deprive himself of any information that she may not want to part with, he decides to take on the form of the beast of darkness, his avatar to fire. Vicious is its name, and his conscience is linked to the primal instinct that rules this monster of black fur and chains. Its slitted red eyes wander into the dreamworld, slowly materializing body.
Leon
"Are you alright?" Asked one of the female's voice who she sat close to. As she observed the home she was currently residing in, Marsila noted that it belonged to one of her aunts. She would come here often with her Mother Arielle when her father went off to work and have an afternoon tea. It was one of Marsila's favourite things to do as a child, it made her feel elegant, like she belonged.

The shifter smiled towards who she began to realise was her aunt who had spoken earlier. Her lines on her face marking the years she had age began to slowly weep blood before separating to reveal the bleeding flesh. Suddenly a snarl tore through the dream and Marsila was thrown back by an invisible force while the dream twisted around her. Her back pressed tightly against the wall, unable to free herself as she watched the scene unfold. Her mother, aunt and cousins were viciously attacked by a large feline, identical to the one she could shift into. Blood sprayed all over the furniture, walls, floor and herself as it tore into her family like they were sheep among a herd while Marsila cried out for it to stop. 

Silence now filled the shifter's ears as she dropped to the floor in a heap. Her knees were brought to her chest before she began to bawl her eyes out. The large feline stalked towards Marsila's crying form, the moment it reached a few steps away, her eyes snapped up towards the monsterous beast. She was unaware she was being watched as she looked into the beast's eyes and saw her own. It was like she was in a trance as her body slowly became one with the beast. It wasn't until she raised her hand to touch the animal that she noticed her hands were covered in fur and the beast in front of her was now a reflection from a sudden mirror. She was the beast.

Stepping away from the mirror, Marsila shook her head in fear before the scene began to once again change around her. The corpse of everyone she had a relationship, whether it was friend or family, were all laying mutilated by her paws causing her to panic. Outside her dream, Marsila had tears coming out her eyes whilst she slept and her body made light crackling noises, like it was trying to shift but her emotions were not strong enough to follow through.
David
Through the burning eyes of the black beast, Rekkan can see. He sees the death of strangers that slowly turned to a fragment of the past, may it be family or friend. The wanderer does not care. He observes as the dream unfolds and turns to nightmare, as the crimson runs vivid and forms puddles of blood around mutilated corpses. And before all that, the fateful exchange of glares becoming one, the frame of the mirror and the opposite side of the coin revealed. Rekkan is all but used to carnage and slaughter, contrast to the girl that loses control of her mind deep inside of it. Yet, there is hope, for in her trance the warrior does enter his own, his breath crossed with Marsila's.

What does it mean? Rekkan transforms nightmare, doing so with the help of old technique and mystical haze. The warrior breathes in when the shifter breathes out, he takes her air into his lungs and expels it when she is inhaling, having her repeat his cycle and feel now his own oxygen. In the dream world, the dark and red twist and reality whirls, pitting the girl back into the same instance as before, being talked to by a woman that is her family, or her friend. Again, Rekkan does not know. However, under the control of the black csnid beast, he reveals its form, dreaded black appearing before the group of people and the feline.

Gnarls and growls echo from gaping maw with layered fangs, three lines of sharp predator teeth gleaming in the fire. It bellows with slitted eyes and lets freakish long tongue lol out of its snout. Noises turned words, Vicious challenges the feline, it stalks the same prey and declares with puffed chest and in its roar. "They are mine!"

Instigation, violence, Vicious mocks the feline form, it seeing truth and Rekkan reading absolution. He wants to try the instinct of the girl, to see her take that form for herself, the feline, knowing she is it and it is her. Drive it and control, to protect, even if they are dreams.
Leon
As her surroundings began to crumble down into what it had been before she had seen the feline, Marsila began to instantly search for the large feline. She could feel a certain calmness wash over her body as it seemed what she had seen was nothing but a dream. Her mind couldn't comprehend that it had lost control of her nightmare when another twisted it so instead of the large beast tearing apart her family, she could only find a dog like beast. She could only assume it was the feline's replacement. 

The dream made no sense as she the beast challenged her. Nothing made sense as she went to take a step forward but instead fell to her hands and knees as she loss control of her legs and hit the floor with an annoyed growl. That's when she realised she was still in her feline form. That's why she couldn't find it earlier.

The beast's voice invaded her ears and she knew instantly that it planned on attacking her family. Instead of focusing the unwanted hunger that overwhelmed her, Marsila kept her eyes on the beast and bared her teeth in a defensive manner. Now she was able to physically control the feline form rather than watch it from a distance. She stood in front of her family, her eyes brightened from their original colour and into a foggy-grey, the shifter wasted no second in attacking the canine. "Over my dead body."

She didn't have any significant training in her animal forms, fearing she would lose control of she did, so she could only hope for the best as she lunged towards the demonic looking dog. The shifter used the anger that raged within the feline to her advantage, focusing on the strength it gave her as she ran towards the dog in front of her. She made sure to observe the side it leaned more towards when she ran in its direction, her claws extended from the nubs of her paws. When she reached the beast, Marsila threw herself to the side which she assumed the canine would jump towards to avoid colliding with her body while stretching her arms out to grab it if she assumed incorrectly.
David
The plan is not only set in motion, it works soundly with the revelation of feline fur pouncing on canid chain. Without even so much as a hint of hesitation to the claws that reflect guardian intent, the black beset charges head on, feeling its fur skewered and flesh ripped to shreds on its back and running down its sides to open its maw and bite at the lower of the cat's neck. Shredder fangs attempt to gnaw at slick fur and tear it, proving its dominance even in the fact that blood drips from it.

However, this is Marsila's dream, this is her world, not the beast's. Even if it has taken control and twisted the sinews of her dream world, she is still above it, above Vicious and its tenacity and aggression. As long as she is unaware of that, however, she will find the bleeding monster's wounds being sealed, no matter how much amount of blood lost. It will continue attacking and ripping her apart, testing the limits of her mind if need be. After all, this being is just a medium to Rekkan's intrusion and one capable of acting on instinct, even if there is a conscience in the real world guiding it. It can simply take control the more rage it is fed.
Leon
If she hadn't been a shifter and knew what she was capable of, Marsila would have been completely terrified of the fact her neck was being torn to shreds. Along with the canine, her wounds healed over after every attack just to be torn into again. She continued to use her claws to rip away at its flesh, growing increasingly frustrated until she threw her head back while pressing her front paws against the beast's chest. As she did so, Marsila noticed her mother looking towards her. Dangling from her neck hung the necklace that had been given to her when she ran away. The jewel gleaming from the golden shell it had been caged in. 

That's when she realised this all had been a dream. Using all her strength, she threw the dog from her body to a good distance away. The wounds on her neck faded instantly as she stalked towards the demonic canine, her eyes narrowed sharply towards the best. Her hind legs sprung her forward, darting off towards the canine. All she could think about was ridding herself of this beast, for all she knew once it was gone, she would wake up. 

The moment she sunk her fangs into the canine's flesh, Marsila's eyes snapped open and gasped in shock. Her chest raise and fell heavily as her lungs forced her to inhale as much air as possible. As soon as her darting gaze caught onto the man above her, the shifter's visibly relaxed before her eyes rolled into the back of her eyes as she fell back into a state of unconsciousness. A dreamless sleep that she had been begging for most nights.
David
Vicious tries to not let the shifter gain the upper hand, biting and gnawing at her throat only to see it regenerate once more. As the power of the medium is lost and its influence over the world broken, Marsila can perceive that the monster's wounds no longer regenerate rapidly and that it is weakening. When the world around her makes sense as her own world and she takes over the mundus of her mind, it is over for the beast of darkness. Its form is shattered and quartered by her feline claws and fangs, though instead of rotting in death, it begins to fade into a shadow that slips from her subconscious.

Wide open eyes can see the trance in which the large man has set himself into. They may forget this moment or sear it in the mind, but he will forget as the link is severed and his own mind begins to swarm him with dreams and nightmares. Vicious returns to his core in the form of a lash, making his foundations stir and soul rock uncontrollably as he collapses back on the ground, his spine on the ashen campfire, shirt and skin turning white. The wanderer shivers and trembles, the first to open his eyes as it is only moments after she has collapsed into a new, dreamless sleep.

He barely remembers summoning Vicious into the dream of the shifter. Fragments fade and are replaced by the darkness of his tantric state, his body already covered in bone chilling sweat. After breathing heavily for minutes, he stands, exhausted. He forgot the sleepless nights previous to this encounter and they now take a toll on his eyes. The man, on his feet, tries to get onto a branch, but little after his first couple steps, he is falling forward on the ground. The blackout has him sleep for a while, maybe even only being woke by the shifter, if she so chooses.
Edward
Getting back onto a more normal schedule after his time in the Isles was rough, before leaving he had a distinct regimen, but when ont the isles that sort of melted away due to Angelica absorbing so much of his attention. So, now, Eric was trying to get his routine back. Waking up early in the morning, occasionally with Angelica in the bed next to him, he would carefully change into training clothes and spar in the courtyard until sunlight or until he ran out of volunteers, which ever was first.

Eric was walking through the halls of Zahrada just as first light began to spill through the windows and turn the sky from purple to a dark orange. Even though there was almost a foot of snow on the ground and temperatures were dropping, Eric was almost dripping with sweat and he felt as if he was going to overheat. He greeted the coal boy who tended the torches as usually and found his door and carefully opened and slipped inside. The morning light illuminated his room enough for him to see as he began to gather his things, he had forgotten to ask for a bath to be drawn for himself so he began to gather his clothes for the day and started to put away his training equipment.
Joseph
Zane had returned about a week after the rest of the Astorian party did. He returned with news that the Araedian's had hired Amalthea with hopes of keeping the Pirate King from the continent. Why, they'd yet to find out, but he'd started to gather more information. While him and Anyanka worked towards that, she was tasked with the census. She needed a full report on those who had survived the harshest parts of their winter, and as morbid as it sounded, needed to be replaced before the spring. 

The lordship positions they appointed had been nearly thirty in total, from a wide variety of folks and bloods across South Feyshore. They were to attend the Spring Equinox festival in Stormalong when the time came, to discuss and problems that had arrisen in their first few months of leadership. 

Angelica had just left Anyanka's office when she passed Stafford in the halls, and she raised a brow at his appearance. Flushed, and drenched. 

"You look like you need to be thrown into the bathhouse." She commented with a small smile.
Edward
Eric smiled more than he should have when he saw Angelica. They hadn't told anyone and he wasn't sure how private Angelica wanted to keep it, he figured she didn't want to go around shouting it from the rooftops. So, he just didn't mention it to anyone. 

"Good morning to you too." Was his response, "I forgot to ask for my bath to be drawn. That will take a little time." He explained afterward, still waiting. Apparently boiling water andm oving it took time
Joseph
She raised a brow, it wasn't something he normally forgot. He had his routine, and training was a regular part of it. Her arms were wrapped around a fresh set of letters to be handed off, and she shifted them.

"Well it sounds as if you have two options: use the bathhouse for its intended purpose, or help me set these to their riders to be sent out to South Feyshore's court."
Edward
Eric rolled his eyes, "The bathhouse is a bit public for my tastes, I prefer a private tub. I allow myself that little bit of luxury." His eyes moved to the letters and he got a curious look, "What are they for?" He asked offering a hand out to take them off her hands. 

"All the riders are down there and waiting or will I need to gather them?" Eric asked.
Joseph
She almost handed them over, but she worried his sweaty hands might smear the ink on them. "I've got it, thanks." She told him, and nodded her head to get him to start walking with her.

"The winter census. We need updates and RSVP's to the Equinox festival so we know I'd there are any gaps in the court we need to fill. The citizenry will be done over the next few months, so I need confirmation on who to expect reports from." She explained, and when they turned into the next hall she paused.

"Have you heard about Harmattan's report?"
Edward
Eric lowered his hand and walked by her side and listened to her attractively talk about festival plans and acronyms, "Anything I can do to help with the census? Last time I looked not everywhere has a lord or lady, so, it's effectively just being secured by whoever we have down there. I'm sure I can dispatch some of my men to get a count together." He offered. He said that just as they turnned the corner and she asked about Zane. He hadn't even realized Zane was back in Zahrada. 

"I have not, no one handed anything to me." Eric responded, "I didn't even realize he was back."
Joseph
"He returned late last night. With a nasty wound and a contract to kill the Prince himself from the Araedians." Her voice dropped as she spoke, and she glanced to the end of the hall. 

"It's something to do with Maith, I don't have all the details, Anyanka has his full report still I haven't been able to get my hands on it. But if they're still _actively_ seeking the Prince's death he won't be safe is Astoria." She inhaled, pushing a hand through her hair to tame her nerves.

"It could mean war with Araedia, and we don't exactly have a commander in place at the moment. I'm sure I'll be asked to start interviewing for the position. So I may need your recommendation on some of your men."
Edward
Eric was quiet while he talked. He left her in silence, looking to the floor, his botts falling heavily. A sigh escaped his lips and his heart raced, she would like his answer. _He_ didn't like his answer. But who else? Lord Syric was a good man, but only his area really knows him. Feyshore lacks manpower, and while it's getting better, they are a very much defeated people. Only one person has led new Feyshorians in battle and inspired them to fight their own fight. Only one person came over with Randall and worked from the beginning to fix Feyshore. At this point, Ericwas silent for awhile, he tried to find the courage to not piss Angelica off when he said it. 

"Me." He said, as surely as he really could.
Joseph
The woman furrowed her brow and looked up at him. "_You_?"
Edward
"Yes." Was all he could say in response.

"Hear me out, please. Feyshore is still recovering, the people can't be led by just anyone. They've only just felt peace, if you send some commander to them and tell them to goout of country to fight an offensive war, what do you think they will do? They will rout the moment any battle goes south. They will desert the moment the trail gets rough. Angelica, I know them, if they see _me_ out there, more of them will ride it out and fight longer. I don't know if there is anyone who can lead Feyshore and win in Araedia if it comes down to it.
Joseph
There were a number of reasons why she didn't like that idea, but it wasn't as if she was in a position to list personal ones. "Eric you took a vow to serve as Head Knight of Astoria. We've discussed this, that means you're needed _here_. I can't ask South Feyshore to raise an army for an heir they've never even met, but we can ask it of Astoria. They'll rally behind whomever we find fit, but it _can't_ be you."
Edward
Eric shookhis head, he was the only person int his castle with any expierance commanding an army. "'Gelica," He said quietly, "Look at the map. Araedia is three times the size of Astoria, and is on Feyshore's border. What happens if you send just Astorians? What happens if they lose? Araedia will outnumber them. Araedia won't just kill the Astorians and then declare victory. They will _keep going_. Where do they go? To an unprepared Feyshore. And now it's our land, our people, our blood." He took a breathe, "If you are going to do anything like this you must do it with your full force or not at all. Intentionally limiting yourself is suicide. You all saw that in Wingsway." He finished, staring down at her. They'd both stopped at this point, debating in hushed voices.
Joseph
The woman crossed her arms over her chest, holding the letters close to her as she pulled her gaze away from him and down the hall. It was a thousand mile stare, and her mind went to Wingsway as he spoke. It made bile rise in her throat to hear _him_ talk of the mission in Wingsway and it's result on the same breath he was asking to take Marcus' position. It made her blood run cold, and she wanted to tell him a firm 'No'. 

But it wasn't her decision, if Anyanka felt him qualified -which he was- and capable -which he was- then she could appoint him without hesitation. She just needed to find someone _better_ for the position than Eric, and soon. 

Her tongue ran over her teeth, and she inhaled deeply before turning her gaze back to him, trying to steel herself. "I'll still need a list from you, Eric. I hope not to see your name on it, but I understand if I do."
Edward
He looked at her synpathetically, feeling almost as bad as she did. "Listen, I don't," He paused and lowered his voice, "I don't want to leave. I don't. But how can I sit in here while people, my people, go out and die on a battlefield? It is unfair to them."
Joseph
"I'm fully aware it's not fair. I wouldn't send a single one of our own out of our borders for the possibility of destruction. But sometimes we don't get that choice." Angelica sighed, and pushed her hand through her hair once more, shaking the blonde locks with the movement as if to shake the uncomfortable conversation. 

"We don't know what's going to come. This could be nothing, this could be a feud that doesn't pertain to us, and we may walk away unscathed. _However_ if it does come to light that we're forced to act, then we will discuss this later, okay?"
Edward
Eric nodded with a sympathetic look on his face. "Okay, we will discuss it when we find out more." He smiled at her after a second. "Let's take care of these letters so I can bathe. Eric began walking, beckoning for her to start walking with him.

The idea of war once excited him with thoughts of glory, but now, it scared him. Rattled him to his core, maybe it was his experience last winter or maybe it was because of Angelica, but all he knew was he was scared. But could not let it show, he had to look confident. Fearless even, he needed to be the Sir Stafford that everyone thought of.
Joseph
Angelica nodded, and they walked together in silence. She was certain he was still trying to think of reasons he'd be the best candidate for the position, same as how she was trying to think of reasons someone else would be better. One of Zane's men, perhaps, could fill the position. They were well versed in battle, had a few successes under their belt that would qualify them. But even while she contemplated it, she knew it was foolish. 

Eric Stafford would find himself as the new Commander of Southern Feyshore and Astoria, and she'd have to swallow her affections for the man to let him do it. 

She wasn't going to risk another Marcus. If Eric showed up on their door one day, flayed like the soldier who had been in the Witherlands- Angelica swallowed, not letting the thought continue. 

When they made it to the stables, she dispersed the letters to their riders, who had already been called and were finishing their preparations. She passed out all but one letter, holding it between her fingers before her as she gave the assignments as to which routes to take. "Steer clear of the Araedian border if you can, there's been notice of some quarrels in the area, I'd prefer you not to find yourself caught up in it." She told the rider assigned to the furthest part of South Feyshore. He nodded, and she watched as they departed. 

The final letter she held she squeezed a bit, before holding it out to Eric. "I suppose this one belongs to you." She mused, and offered him the letter addressed to Stormalong.
Edward
Eric watched her, seeing her dmeeanor cahnge to something fearful, he wanted to stop her, kiss her and tell her everything was okay. But he didn't, maybe he should have, but he didn't. She was quiet, and so was he. He didn't dare to push any farther lest he make her angry. So, he just followed quietly, watching her sympathetically. 

He took the letter and looked down at it. "Thank you." He opened it as the riders took off as they stood alone.
Joseph
The letter requested full information on the Lord of the keep in question. Previous titles, current health, current status in both marriage and finance. Anyanka wanted to know who composed of her South Feyshorian court and their status. She needed to know where they had decided to build their homes, so the letter asked for current maps of their keeps, as well as knowledge on who maintained those closest to them. 

She wanted to assure they were all well aware of each other, and used each other to keep themselves in check. It was a large territory, and with herself placed in Astoria, she personally worried about the set up. Angelica was a bit concerned as well, but she was willing to try it if it had the chance of working. 

"You'll need to speak to the Queen soon, I wouldn't return that-" She nodded towards the letter "Until you've officially been asked to hold the Lordship position, but it should be coming anytime this week. I think she's just gotten busy with the results of the festival."
Edward
Eric read the letter over, once, twice, three times. The idea was so alien. The first thing he had ever remembered wanting was to leave his village. To do something, now, Eric was potentially the Lord of Stormalong, one of the largest cities in Marin. 

"Talking to Queen Anya." Eric echoed with a half laugh. "I've always had trouble with that." He said. "When would be a good time to talk to her?"
Joseph
"There's a meeting later tonight to discuss the report, and she's got some news in regards to what happened in the Isles." Angelica told him. Now that her hands were empty, she folded them beneath her breast, gripping at her elbows. "You're welcome to attend, I think you were actually slated to be there over dinner." She mused, trying to remember if his name was mentioned or not. The news wasn't delivered by Anya herself, but by letter. Anya had apparently locked herself in her quarters for the day to recoup from _something_ that had happened the night prior. Angelica was still unaware as to what it was, and she assumed she'd be told later tonight.

"Before any of that though, you do need to bathe."
Edward
"I guess I should wear my best then, do I get all my news through you now?" Eric sked with a smile, takign a glance for anyone else and he slipped in and pulled her into a hug. 

"I will definitely need to bathe." He said before planting a quick kiss on her lip. 

"I will go right now, actually." He said, letting her go.
Joseph
His smile earned a small smirk, and she let him pull her into a hug. The kiss was quick, and she was grateful for it. No one in the castle knew anything about them or their relationship, and she intended to keep it that way as to not look biased in her position. He released her, and she reached for his arm, catching his wrist. 

She let her blue eyes roam over his collar, and she released his hand, tapping the dip of his throat with her finger. 

"Don't... Let them launder that shirt. Toss it in my chambers when you're finished with it." She said simply, and turned on her heel so he wouldn't see the flush of her cheeks at the comment before heading back to work.
Leon
Her eyelids slowly cracked open, welcoming the light as it contributed to waking her up. She didn't remember anything about what had happened last night besides the weird nightmare she'd been able to turn over. Her brows furrowed at that. She was trying to figure out what it had been that invaded her dreams but was left clueless. It had never happened in her dreams before and they usually had similar outcomes. 

Her gaze glanced around until she spotted the male sleeping not far from her. She was sure he was to take the first watch but it seemed that he never woke her up to do so. Last she remembered, he had been up in the trees. 

Suddenly her eyes widened as a horrid thought occurred in her head, resulting in her rushing to Rekkan's side and forgot all about the dream. She was sure to not touch him when she studied his body, looking for any signs of injury in fear that he had fallen from the branches. She couldn't smell any wounds that were freshly bleeding and his steady breathing indicated he was alive. Perhaps he thought it was safe enough to pass out? A breath of relief left her lips as she sat back down beside his body. "Fucking hell." She muttered. After the events of last night, the shifter was now on edge. 

Grabbing onto the arm of Rekkan, she shook him roughly in hope to wake him up. Her fingers dig into his flesh, enough to cause a bruising as she did so while rocking the muscle covered male.
Edward
Eric hated to see her leave but liked to see her walk away, his look lingered for a moment. Then he left to his chambers and gathered some new clothes and went to where the warm bathe was waiting. As usual, some young servant was in the room who blushed when he entered. 

"Thank you, continue your duties." He dismissed, she nodded and scurried away. He closed the door behind him and disrobed, sinking into the bath. 

The bath didn't last long, it was just long enough to get himself clean. Once he was out of the bath he dried and changed into something nicer, his greens and tarnished golds he had taken to since coming to court. He stepped out to a waiting servant who was there to drain the bath. She offered tot ake Eric's extra clothes. 

"No, I'll take them."

He said before walking carefully toward the wing Angelica lived in. Eric slipped in and laid the lcothes out neatly on her bed, just as he knew she would like. Folding them so there wouldn't be wrinkles.
David
The man himself will forget the events in detail of the end of last night, but in spite of memories fragmented, he will know about his attempt in tranquilising the woman from her restless sleep. It is but an effect of his own choice of tools, using a medium to intrude in her subconscious.

By dawn, the rays of light pierce the plethora of leaves and settle on his back. He has barely moved since his collapse, courtesy of the strain and the continuous days of scarce sleep. But now, his body feels itself recovering, only to suffer a rouse from the sharp nails of the shifter on his arm. His eyelids twitch at first, then they clench. Finally, they open slowly, his conscience groggy and gaze blurry. The warrior moves his palms against the ground and heaves himself up in a push up before bending knees to a crouch and standing. Rekkan turns to the girl that has woke him up and rubs his eyes.

"Good morning..." He mumbles, half annoyed at being woken up instead of being let sleep through the day. However, that could prove fatal, just in case someone came upon the camp. They were lucky enough not to get the guard on their trails. With a stretch, his muscles tense until sweet release of morning bodily grip gives him a moment pure bliss in relief. "I needed that. Now. Shall we retrieve your money, Marsila?"
Leon
The moment she heard him groan, Marsila released Rekken's arm and stood herself up, stretching her legs as she did so. She could hear the annoyed tone in his voice but it didn't matter to her. They were wasting every minute they had slept in, not that she appreciated the good night's rest as she hadn't had one in a long time. Unfortunately her mother's necklace meant more to her than sleep or the money that had been stolen from her but she kept that to herself. She was unsure whether or not he would understand why she wanted it back so badly over the money. 

Raising her arm's over her head, she stretched the muscles that had become stiff while she slept and leaned backwards until she heard multiple audible pops. Marsila Enjoyed the feeling of the breeze against her body, even when her back was visible and took on most of the cool air. The cool mornings she enjoyed, the night breeze was another story. Turning to face Rekkan, she pulled the bottom lip into her mouth and nibbled on the skin. She was trying to think of ways that allowed her to find her necklace. 

"Going back to the tavern would be a start." She began, her mind attempting to form up some plan. "We could find a way to track down the man from the bar last night and hopefully he would lead us to the rest of the group who stole my shit. It is best that we don't check the cells, from the show you put on last night, I doubt they wouldn't find it difficult to recognise you. What was that anyways?" She questioned, unable to hold the question as it had been picking at her since it happened.
David
His eyes gain clarity after the stretch, their own lida working themselves out with a clench and several blinks to ascertain reality. Rekkan turns around to face the girl that speaks of their best possible route in finding the culprits, starting with the same tavern they were in last night.

She expresses her curiosity for the blinding clarity of last night and how going to the cells might be a hindrance considering what he did. Truth be told, it wouldn't matter if he did or not, the guards were hellbent on arresting everyone. Still, he finds her curiosity in need of sating. It's not like that is some some sort of hidden technique either. "You mean the flash of light as we did our escape?" He smirks softly, how much his lips can stretch smirk early in the morning. "Child's play. Just a trick of many in my book. You could call it magic, too." It is magic more than it is a simple trick. He did not create the illusion of, but rather clearly used the illumanting properties of fire and subtracted the volatile form of the energy to cause a disturbance in the senses.

" To be more specific, it is a trick associated to fire, mixed with long years of practicing the element. When you have lived a long time, you have some sort of advantage in learning and mastering more." Rekkan lets out a chuckle and doesn't add more to his answer. There is no need, either. "Shall we get going, then? You seem in a rush. Wouldn't mind helping you find them as fast as possible."
Miguel
Zane entered the meeting room, a large room with an equally large, round table resting in the middle. His chest still hurt from the rushed cauterization, but he could manage. His gaze swept the room, and he took note of the usual appearances of Anyanka and Angelica, and the confusing appearance of Eric Stafford, standing at the table. He made his way to the open side of the table, a grimace on his face. 

Angelica was muttering something under her breath, probably bad mouthing him, and he smirked softly at that. "We had this conversation before, Angelica. I may have called the meeting, but you showed early. Don't complain for me being on time."

He tuned out whatever she said in response, and turned to face Anyanka. His gaze dropped to her arms for a moment, and his grimace returned full force. He had to talk to her about what happened in the infirmary when they had a free moment.

"Well, we need to discuss what will happen with Araedia." He started off, tapping softly on the table. His gaze looked between Anyanka, Angelica, and Eric equally. "What are your thoughts?" He asked the table, gesturing around.
Joseph
Zane was, unsurprisingly, the last one there. She assumed he might be late due to his injury, so the fact he showed up on time was impressive, though he immediately felt the need to defend himself to Angelica, who had simply been saying the man looked like shit. 

Which wasn't wrong. 

Anyanka was quiet as he spoke, her eyes watching the chair across to her left. Angelica was to her right, and Eric to her right, and Zane at the far end. In the chair to her left, sat Marcus. Though of course, no one else could see him. She kept her gaze low, staring at the man's chest in an effort to make it look like she was just tired and zoned out, and not staring at the spirit of their dearly departed general. 

_"Before any decision is made about Araedia, there's more information that they should know, don't you think?"_ He muttered, his eyes locked on Angelica who unknowingly sat right across from him. Anya swallowed, finding her throat surprisingly dry and her eyes widened a bit as Marcus leaned forward, reaching to place his hand over Angelica's that rested on the table. 

Anya moved quickly, her hand slamming on the table to cut him off, and he retracted with a surprised look as the sound of her hand on the wood echoed through the meeting room. It hurt like hell, and she inhaled sharply, all too aware of the blisters on her fingers. 

"Before we talk about Araedia, there's more to discuss." She said, filling the new silence in the room. "Maith asked me to go to Azarya."
Edward
Eric stayed quiet through the meeting, Eric had arrived about the same time as Angelica, mostly coincidentally. Once hearing the bombshell that was Anya _leaving_ for Azarya, his eyes locked on her. Eric was freshly bathed, his hair still a little dark from his bath and down up nicer than usual, mostly to impress Angelica who had made fun of his appearance earlier. 

"If I may ask, your grace, _why_?" As nicely as he could, but it was clear he didn't like the idea of their queen just going to Azarya.
Joseph
"He's contacted a necromancer there, someone he thinks might be able to help Mikhail." The redhead inhaled, and straightened. "He doesn't trust anyone to take him besides himself or myself, and it's not as if he's able to make the journey." 

"Anya, we've _tried_ magics with this. It's not going to do anything." Angelica murmured softly, and Anya raised a shoulder, a bit defensive. 

"He's not the same as he was, he's not-"

"Anya, he _died._ No one comes back from that the same. He wasn't _supposed_ to come back. Nathaniel was cruel in bringing him back, and I'm sorry to have to be the one to say this but you _cannot_ keep risking your kingdom and life over magics that aren't working." 

The blonde tensed, her brow knitting together in sympathy, and she reached for Anya's hand on the table. Anya flinched, but let her take it. 

"I love Mika, with all my heart, we all do. But hasn't he suffered enough?"
Miguel
"I have to agree with Angelica on this." Zane mumbled, moving to sit next to Anya. He raised his hand to her shoulder, ignoring the stinging in his chest. "You can't keep doing this. There will be a time when you try something like this, and neither you or Mika will come back." Despite saying this, Zane also knew she wasn't against running off to do things, so he was already thinking of people from his network to keep an eye over her, just incase the worst came to pass.