Methuseld gave a huff. The woman did not like indecision and resolved to make herself useful, the boat now packed and ready to disembark towards the harbor of Kulratha's sister city as the lake behind them opened its maw in vain to latch on and pull the ship all the way back to Kulratha, where an angry Vizier and an angry sorceress plotted together atop a high tower. In this city, they would hopefully find the supplies, the horses, the direction they were looking for. "I shall return in a moment, and by then I hope you are all ready to get underway. I'm assuming we are following the plan of our two brave kidnappers?" She walked towards the captain's quarters, leather boots soft on the rich sturdy wood of the deck, and after a moment of consideration placed the fox down at the entrance to the quarters (who knew how much privacy she'd have if the small furry thing was inside with her) before heading inside and sealing herself in.<br/><br/>The inside of the quarters might as well have been a painting titled "Remnants of Lust", a room sacked by two passionate lovers possessed of energies no normal being had. Methuseld gingerly made her way across a floor littered with clothing, sheets, and furniture, all strewn about like they mattered nothing and weighed even less, until she reached the side of the massive bed, where a pile of hard steel lay just where she'd left it... more or less. And more or less unsoiled, as well, which brought a sigh of relief from two blade-thin lips. Calloused hands removed the weighty bulk of sword-belt and sword placed them carefully in a somewhat clean spot on the bed, and lifted large plates of hard metal, scratched, gouged, even fire-blackened in some place. Straps tightened, fit checked... everything felt good. Until she straightened from fitting on the very last piece of armor, a pointed sabaton.<br/><br/>And then she felt different. Not for very long, but long enough to fall to one knee with a dull metal clang. Nothing hurt. But she suddenly felt odd, like she'd been staring at some words for so long that their letters had lost all meaning. Except that the words were "Methuseld von Ellegarde." And that scared her... instantly she knew it was magic.<em>More</em>magic, she thought with an inward groan. She hadn't noticed before, but now wisps of familiarity were coming back - a familiar presence as when she'd been seduced by Aza. Someone was here with her... someone or something. In the armor, she realized with dread. "What are you? What do you want??" She asked, standing up straight in a symbolic gesture of defiance.<br/><br/><em>To be given what is mine. I am the skin you sloughed so eagerly, the gift you were given but which you cast away at the earliest possible opportunity, the part of you you never wanted but that</em>always<em> wanted you. I am alive, not inside you, but inside your armor. I shall be your armor evermore... but you must give me what is mine. Give me yourself willingly, and I will not take more than my fair share.</em>Methuseld listened with growing dread. She felt herself again - the presence was foreign, alien... it was the armor. "I will give you<em>nothing</em>," hissed the general, simmering just below the surface. Laughter was all she got in response.<em>'Fight all you like, but know that you'll never be rid of me. You can take the armor off, and I'll slink into your doublet. Take that off, I'll slither ever deeper... Until my </em>proper<em>home is returned to me - your armor. Now... run along... and be sure to kill something </em>soon. Laughter faded, leaving behind a flustered, anxious golden-haired woman in silver armor. A few moments she stood there, frozen solid by the chilling voice and cold soul which now inhabited her... or her armor... Or both.<em>Magic again</em>she thought angrily, ripping the sword from the bed and tying the belt on in a few easy movements as she marched out of the room in her signature icy demeanor.<br/><br/>"Now then - have we a plan?" She asked, voice far less relaxed than it had been earlier. To the others, the old Methuseld may as well have been back, though there were subtle changes. Less resigned, more desperate. Less unfeeling, more angry.