Shannon
While Lawrence rushed for an exit, Arel maintained a considerable distance from him, slithering between the patrons without being noticed. His small stature rarely came in handy, but this was one instance in which it was useful to him. But as they reached the rear door, he noticed the amulet's soothing light growing in intensity, prompting him to stop dead in his tracks as the door shut behind him. Who was to come out? And who was this "Auntie Cassandra" Character? At least one of his questions was answered as the spectre, undead in appearance, quickly sprout forth from the necklace and hovered before them. 

At this point, with the cat entirely out of the bag, he felt slightly more willing to question the chaos that was occurring before him. That, and his ravenous curiosity had gotten the better of him, so he simple could not resist. 

**"I'm Arel."** He said, his eyes following the spectre as it began to float above his head, staring directly down upon him. He'd neglected to mention his last name or conjure an alias, knowing that, despite being highly unimportant, he was still a member of one of Gantrick's noble houses, and was not willing to risk having this necromancer recognise who he was. After leaving home and heading to foreign lands, he knew the political backlash that could and likely would occur, should be discovered. 

**"I would not have made that large of an assumption, associating you with a deity. I must ask though..."** 

He met the ghost's gaze finally, pointing directly at her.

**"Is what this one says truthful? I am familiar with the Auburnia name, but..."** Arel had to hold his tongue, deciding against asking too many questions at once, as he typically did. With regards to his own head, this was acceptable, but, while he wasn't the most socially astute, he was aware that this was "Improper."
Michael
```EXCUSE ME! 'This One' is Vivienne of the Thorned Rose! MEMBER OF THE COVENANT OF DRUID RELATED WITCHES! Or just natural witches... Or nature witches. Also! How do you know House Auburnia? I am curious. VERY CURIOUS! Oh my gosh, could you be...```

Lawrence would briefly gazed his attention towards Arel in this situation. His eyes glowing ominously brighter than it usually does. One might say that it seemed a dangerous one. His hands seemingly flickering with small bursts of spectral blue flames. It seems that the Necromancer was about to attack, thinking that the gods have sent an assassin against him.

```A SCHOLAR?! OH MY GODS AND YOU WORKED HARD TO UNCOVER OUR HISTORY FROM 100! OR 200 YEARS AGO?! OH I COULD HUG YOU!``` 

Vivienne would immediately dive in to hug Arel. Though he may feel very uncomfortable, as her very touch was like none other. He may feel his soul was moved around his corporeal body, but other than that, it was staying in place. Seeing the display of affection, Lawrence slowly died down his rather ominous behavior with eyes all dimming down a bit. 

He began to spoke softly, with a bit of guilt and shame to it. Though it wasn't much very evident, hidden underneath the subtle layers of a calm and cool exterior. "**Yes, what she said is true. My childhood isn't the best thing in the world, I'm most definitely older than you if we compare the ages of the soul. But I suggest not delving further in my story. There is one thing that I can tell you. I once entered the Domain of Elutharious when I was 8. That's all I have to say about the matter.**"
Shannon
**"Apologies for not doing your name justice."** He seemed to have gotten used to Vivienne's outbursts quite rapidly, though, it was evident to any who looked that he was still perturbed to an extent. After all, how could one not be during such a chaotic and atypical encounter such as this? As he was interrogated by the ghostly figure, Arel watched on as she came to her own conclusions, putting together what he was rather quickly, but he never described himself as a scholar. From the corner of his vision, however, he took notice of the shift of brightness in Lawrence's eyes, followed by a series of blue lights flickering along his clothing. 

He'd planned on stepping back, perhaps needing to prepare himself for a fight, but before he could do so, he was gripped by a pair of arms. That being the Witch's. But somehow, it felt peculiar, as though it weren't his physical body that was being grabbed, but something far more... Visceral than that. And as he attempted to raise his arms both in protest of being embraced and in defence against a perceived attack, he found he was unable to. Vivienne had such a tight grasp on him that it felt like he could not breathe, his asthma not helping the situation remotely. Tensions were high, but when he heard the shame in the necromancer's voice, they had lessened somewhat. At the very least, he did not seem like he would attack immediately.

**I... C-can't..."** The completed sentence could not leave him as he made an attempt to grip her gown whilst breaking into a coughing fit.
Michael
```You're dying?! OH MY GOSH YOU'RE DYING! WE COULD BE BUDDIES TOGETHER! YAY!```

Before anything else happens, she suddenly faded into obscurity. Leaving behind only smokes that seemingly entered in the faint glowing amulet on Lawrence's neck. He would make a hefty groan, the necromancer would make way to Arel's side. Seeing that the man is having a terrible coughing fit. "**Are you all right? Did she ripped a fabric of your soul?**" His voice was full of worry, to which he started to move his hands around his body.

Squiggle, the undead crow, would come out from the hood of necromancer. In its beak was a small glass container of green clear liquid in it. Though the sudden exit of the creature accidentally revealed Lawrence's face. The visage of a young man heavily scarred with seared and exposed flesh, contracting and retracting with no skin to cover up the living tissue. Teeth seemingly sharp and abnormal, even for a mortal's standard.

There were multiple slits closed, but soon they opened to reveal them to be more demonic eyes. Squirming and moving around Lawrence's head with fleshy noises. Finally was the infamous large gaping mouth on his neck with its own layer of small sharp teeth, yet incomplete and spacing far and wide from each other. Since there were eyes on both sides of the neck, it made it seem there were two faces.

"**SQUIGGLE!**" Forcibly grabbing the crow, he would take the stamina potion from his undead companion's beak and immediately gave it to Arel before covering himself with his hood once more. "**Time. Out.**" With an angered tone, the crow suddenly became lifeless as it fell to its knees. Seemingly incapacitated where the necromancer hid it in one of his pockets.

He moved a few meters back from the beastshifter, both afraid and cautious now that his face were revealed. Upon the shadow of an oak tree, only his demonic verdant eyes were visible amidst an abundance of darkness.
Shannon
The ghost was incorrect in her assumption. Arel was not dying, at least not yet, but it most certainly felt like he was. Vivienne seemed to almost take joy as her grip tightened further before fading away, in turn releasing the Shifter as he quickly dropped to his knees, clutching his chest. While he had heard Lawrence's inquiry, he likely could not respond if he attempted to, as his coughing fit continued, broken up by a series of deep breaths. However, as Lawrence placed his hands on him, Arel glanced up with a pained expression painted across his face, he came face to face with exposed flesh, fang-like teeth, an utter lack of skin, and multiple sets of eyes. 

Arel could only look on as the undead crow was quickly jerked into his master's cloak, leaving only the stamina potion left behind sitting directly in front of him. He reach for the bottle, seemingly to drink from it, but instead slid it away from himself. With the shape the bottle was in, he could not see the contents within and was not willing to accept what was offered. Not after this. He was not going to fight or fly unless he had to, as he could see that this individual was obviously more than troubled and at least displayed a degree of regret regarding their situation and seemed to wish to remedy it.

Whilst far from orderly, Arel's breathing seemed to slow as his face returned to its usual vacant state and the coughing fits reduced in intensity. 

**"I will... Pretend that I never saw that..."** With hands that trembled far more than was normal, he returned to his feet and took a few paces backwards himself.