Bookrat's Demon Lord Game 2 (Inactive)

Game Master bookrat

Drot, distracted by the work he was doing on the barricade, nearly missed the mage's question. He looked around and realized she was talking to him.

"Hmmm? Ah, uh Tesswyn and I worked together long ago. We met Charles and a few others when the town was attacked by demons... We traveled together for a while and separated for a bit. I met Sir Gärwin then, at a military fort."

Kahtia glances over at the dwarf and nods. "He bears a heavy burden, that one. It would crush lesser men, but his back is strong." She falls quiet for a moment, enjoying in some small way the quiet of the tomb, then she softly continues. "And what is your story, Drot'ook? Living at the Tower, I have known many orcs in the Empire's legions. Few show interest in the magical arts, and fewer still can demonstrate any kind of skill with them. You are an enigma, with your spells and your rage. I would be pleased to teach you more."

"Hmmm, not very eventful I think. Raised in typical orc slums, I was given this by a traveling, what I now know to be, illusionist."

Drot produces a small metal ball barring from a pocket inside his shirt. He tossed it toward Kahtia; it landed in front of her and after a moment began to move of its own accord. It hovered just and inch off the ground, spinning rapidly. Drot continued his work as he spoke.

"It took years to discover the secrets that tiny metal ball held. Those years were spent trying to be anything but what I am. Spent some time with bandits stealing from travelers, and several years as a rowing slave on a cargo ship."

Stretching out on her blanket, Kahtia stretches like a cat and smiles as she rolls over to watch the spinning orb, resting her chin in her hands. She reaches out to gently touch it with a single finger as Drot'ook tells his story, grazing its metallic surface. "Mmm. You are in a better place now, even here in these depths. Among friends. With a purpose. But what fuels your rage, Drot'ook?" The woman's eyes rise to meet the orc's, then. "What makes you recoil from an other's touch?"

"Ah, well, I do find that a bit perplexing. With a fair amount of assumption, I believe there is one of two things happening... In regards to my so called rage. The first being that there is a completely separate entity occupying space within my mind, that circumvents my control over this body; or, there is a portion of my mind that is separate yet part of the whole, perhaps a trait that was passed down to me from my ancestors. As I succumb to The Berserker, I begin watching my body take actions on its own accord. He talks to me, we argue sometimes, he has his own opinions and feelings. It's quite interesting, I think.

Drot finishes tying a rope, takes a step back and admires his work. A rough structure, sure to hinder the entrance of something from the outside while giving those on the other side safe ways to strike at the intruders.

Listening intently, Kahtia plucks the sphere from the floor and stands while Drot'ook finishes with his rope. Did the woman... even touch the marble, or had it just moved into her waiting hand?

"This we can explore as well. There is much power in you, Drot. I have seen your rage twice now, and it is terrible to behold -- yet it is magnificent." Holding out the orc's keepsake, she adds, "If you can harness it, bend it to your will -- you will be unstoppable."

He laughs, more at himself for the fantasies he imagined than anything else.

"Perhaps... I don't believe it is a matter of harnessing and bending, but more so working in tandem. The right tool for the right job, in a sense."

Kahtia nods and smiles. "However you would like to describe it, Drot'ook. I would be happy to help you seek a deeper understanding of your companion. For now... we must finish exploring this fiendish tomb."

Drot nods and makes his way to his cozy corner. His mind was well organized now that he spoke about some confusing aspects of his being out loud. The question he neglected to answer was the only thing swimming around in a lake of confusion with nothing but a dingy made out of indignation and spite.

Charles looked thoughtfully at Kahtia. "I don't know the exact limitations of this crown, so if you could get the sword down that will be helpful. As for transporting it back... well, we do have one additional horse. It we can get it strapped to the horse we can still bring it back with us. It'll be unwieldy but it should be doable."

Kahtia eyes the massive weapon. "I can waste the chains holding it away to nothing, Charles, and it will fall. But I don't know how you will move such a thing to the surface... or through the desert."

Charles looked at the weapon again, as Kahtia proffered her questions. The longer he thought about it the more difficult it seemed to him to actually transport such an unwieldy sword as it currently was across such a long journey.

"Do any of your magics have the ability to shrink an object and make it smaller? Or even if not that, do you think you can break it apart?"

"I could destroy pieces of it and break it into smaller sections, but I have no means of physically making it smaller." The woman grinned. "There are many spells to learn at the Tower, Charles. I did my best in the years I was there to learn them all... alas some escaped me."

Glancing at the way out, the woman walked to the paladin and smoothed his cloak and a lock of his hair with her tanned hands, adding, "Perhaps more importantly, we might not want to tarry here further. I think Tesswyn has already gone back to the surface. She may not trust us to be alone. Your musing over this may result in a lonely night..."

Charles looked at the sword and Kahtia in equal measure. He realized he was making a larger issue out of this than he needed to. They had successfully done what they came to and then were going to be rewarded for their efforts anyway.

He let out a relieved sigh as a weight seemed to be lifted from his shoulders.

"Let's forget it then. Let someone else come and figure out how to carry this blade out of here."

His face flushed ever so slightly as Kahtia closed.

"You make a good point, Kahtia. Be careful though, Tess can be quite possessive of her things sometimes. Now let's get out of this tomb. I'd hate to keep Tess lonely tonight." he said with a small smirk.

Tarrying slightly as Charles made his decision, said his piece and then headed after his bedmate, Kahtia contemplated something for a moment, the gears turning in her head -- then she followed behind, finally leaving the accursed tomb.

There is a sound behind her -- the approach of the green-eyed mage, Kahtia Yarza. Considerably cleaned up from their adventures into the wretched tomb, the woman is wearing a simple, nearly sheer sleeping shift that leaves her shoulders and arms bare, and covers her shapely legs to mid-thigh. The cool night air has raised goosebumps on Kahtia's olive skin, and after the day's heat it is a sensation she enjoys.

Sitting down next to Tess, the sorceress stretches out her legs in the sand and looks sidelong at the other woman. "May we speak?" she asks lightly, moonlight glinting in her dark eyes.

Tess glances over at Kahtia. Her eyes take in the wizard's outfit--or lack thereof--and she quickly looks away again. The gloom hides the blush spreading in her pale cheeks. "Sure, whatever," she says.

Kahtia cannot see Tess blush, but the other woman’s body language speaks volumes. She touches the rogues upper arm lightly to draw Tesswyn’s eyes back to her. ”What makes you look away, Tess? Since we first met, there has been a gulf between us I do not understand. Charles told me you were upset with me. What have I done?”

Tess rolls her eyes. "Oh, like you don't know." After a moment, she looks back uncomfortably, but doesn't move Kahtia's hand. "I'm sorry. It's nothing that you did. It's just... it's complicated."

"Tell me," Kahtia says softly. "You have nothing to fear from me regarding Charles, Tesswyn. He is noble, and dedicated to you. I have seen his embarrassed looks, and they mean only that he believes a woman should be modest. He loves you, I think. Has he told you this?"

The dark-haired spell-weaver looked up at the moon, and as she did the shift she wore shimmered beautifully, reflecting the orb's silver light. It was an expensive garment -- Kahtia liked to clothe herself in finery, it was true -- and it clung to the woman's body enticingly, practically begging for hands to run across her silk-covered curves. Looking back at Tess, meeting her eyes, the mage repeated herself. "But there is more here than that. Tell me, Tesswyn, what is so complicated."

Tesswyn's eyes drift over Kahtia's body again before returning to meet the wizard's gaze. "Yes, he tells me he loves me. And I love him. He saved me from being swallowed by a sea of darkness.

"My mother died when I was young. It was me and my father for a while until I watched him get murdered in front of me. Then for a long time it was just me. Until I met Drot, and later Charles. There were others, too, but they left. We three stayed together."

The rogue brushes a few errant strands of brown hair from her eyes. "I've been living and fighting among men all of my life. I've never really had interactions with another woman. Especially one who flaunts her femininity like you do. You... You scare me a bit, Kahtia. Not just because of how Charles looks at you--and don't think I don't see how you tease him! I just don't know how to deal with you."

Kahtia doesn't react when Tess' eyes rove her body, but she does notice. Her face falls as the other woman describes the tragedies of her past, and she gently moves her hand from Tesswyn's shoulder to her back. The touch is light and comforting, but like so much of what Kahtia does, it is also sensual. It is laden with meaning, with an offer.

"I'm sorry," the raven-haired beauty says simply. "Our world is a terrible one. But at least you found Drot'ook and Charles. The three of you clearly share a close bond. I am envious of it. Gärwin is too. He is a troubled soul, and dearly in need of the fellowship you all provide."

When Tess talks of not having much female companionship in her life, Kahtia rises and walks around in front of the woman before dropping down to her knees so that they are face-to-face. Gathering the rogue's hands in hers, she smiles and gazes into her brown eyes.

"Tesswyn... you do not need to fear me , or even deal with me. We will be true friends, you and I... if you but allow it. Women can know one another in ways men cannot understand. Men have much power in this world... you have seen it. Do you not think we should support one another? Do you not think we need to?"

Cocking her head slightly, the mage blew a dark curl from her own face as she released the other woman's hands and sat back on her haunches slightly, invitingly.

Tesswyn's heart beats faster as Kahtia takes her hands. Up close, her heightened senses pick up on all the signs the other woman is giving off. The increased warmth of her dusky skin. The slight parting of her lips. The soft rustle of her gown as it slides across silky thighs. The sweet scent of pheromones filling the air.

It's too much. An overpowering impulse drives Tesswyn forward, and without thinking, she presses her lips against Kahtia's. Touch, sight, sound, smell, and now, taste.

Kahtia could feign surprise at Tess' kiss, she could pretend that this wasn't exactly what she was longing for... but it has been too long since she's felt another's hands and lips on her body. The sorceress returns the kiss hungrily, deeply -- she is a being of considerable sexual desire, is Kahtia, and she draws Tesswyn in with no intention of letting her go. Tongues meet, hands explore, flesh trembles, pulses race... it is a thrilling moment for both women, one that has been building. All the tension between them, it piques now, a dam about to break before the floodwaters of their rising passions.

After several moments, Tesswyn breaks away. "This is wrong. We shouldn't be doing this. Charles..." She goes back in for another kiss.

"Just listen... to... your body," Kahtia managed between kisses, her deft, expert fingers working the buckles on Tess' armor. The smell of the oiled leather mingled with the musk in the air, and the mage felt her yearning grow as she slid her hands hungrily against the rogue's body, exploring, teasing, exciting. "No one need know," she breathed.

Right now, Tesswyn's body is telling her all sorts of things. "We should... We should go to your tent," she whispers, gasping and shivering in the cold desert air.

Kahtia kisses Tess for long, thrilling seconds before she answers, and that answer comes in the form of her soundlessly rising, peeling off her silken shift, and walking towards her tent. Moonlight fairly glows on the woman's breathtakingly beautiful skin, on her shoulders, her legs, and her bare backside as she walks through the sand.

Reaching her tent, the now naked woman turns and holds the canvas flap open, inviting Tesswyn inside, promise lighting her eyes.

Tesswyn draws in another shuddering breath. This is it. If she follows Kahtia into that tent, there's no going back. Her life is at a crossroads, and the next decision will chart the course from here on out. She could blame the madness that is always creeping at her consciousness, driving her to irrational acts. She could blame the Old Gods, for cursing her with powers she is not fully equipped to handle. She could blame it on the constant shitshow her life has been, punctuated by only fleeting moments of happiness. Or she could blame on her own f$!@ing selfish nature. She's always put herself first, and damn what anybody else thought about her.

Ultimately, it doesn't matter. Tesswyn goes to Kahtia, pulling the flap of the tent closed behind her...

"Of course the scepter spoke to me, like a beggar speaks to a passer-by. Perhaps it is my understanding of the intricacies of the magic that keeps it from pressing on my mind."

Charles closed his eyes in contemplation for a moment, then spoke. "The mask spoke to me of its intentions and told me of its powers which are suited to protection. But even so, I've seen what happened to two would-be rulers of the Waste. The uprising of the Orcs in the South and the overthrow of the Empire comes to mind as well, I'm not about to get complacent here with anything. You took control of that Undead brute I was facing earlier, regardless of what intricacies your magic helps you withstand, we should take in the fact that we are still vulnerable. What other powers did the scepter show you?"

"That is an interesting observation, brother. This tyrant king faired far better than the Empire ; I'm curious as to how he was buried with all the riches one person can dream of, and the Empire got buried under the rumble of their own cities..."

Drot looked at the scepter in his hands, turning it over a few times.

"Making slaves of the soldiers you created to be stronger than you ever could, in retrospect, seems asinine. Shall we then?"

He motions to the way upwards and outwards, sack of goodies in his hands

As they walked on, Drot vocalized a sudden realization.

"This seems to be a tool used to amplify one's Will over things, such as the undead. It is imposing but also inflicts a rotting plague, presumably to those that resist you."

Charles nodded to Drot'ook as the Orc walked out ahead of him. "It does seem that way. I think the difference was that Anak’hainunem might have actually concluded his time with a successful attempt at an empire. The Southern Empire however... that one became too reliant with their created soldiers and with matters of decadent arrogance. " he says with bitterness.

He was quiet for a moment but when Drot'ook suddenly turned back and spoke loudly, Charles grimaced. "That is an unusually effective power. It would quickly force others to decide just how far they were willing to go against you."

Drot weighs the evaluation that Charles made for a moment, tilting his head one way and then the other.

"I supposed the power would only be as effective as the will of the one using it. You spoke that the mask grants the gift of flight, what else does it do?"

"It offers some minor protection of its own and allows me to discern whether someone is telling me truth or lies. Also, it makes you terrifying to behold, apparently."

"How do you know that the mask is telling truth?"

Charles tilts his head and looks down at the ring he's wearing with a small surprised chuckle. "The ring of the other would-be and apparently paranoid ruler of the wastes, actually."

"How peculiar indeed..." Drot remarks. "I may ask about your ring later, since it may be a redundancy for some time."

Drot follows behind the group, still inspecting the scepter and hauling the bag-O'-loot they've acquired. He keeps glancing at the back of Charles' head, through it, at the mask. When they reach the surface he felt the need to cast his influence over the whole of the desert... But there was nothing in this desert save for sand and death.

"Yeah. Kahtia and I got to talking, and we stayed up later than I had expected. I didn't want to wake you," Tesswyn says.
The rogue avoids making eye contact.
"The worm woke me up, and I just grabbed the closest clothes. I ought to give them back to her, yeah?"

Charles paused for a moment, a look of doubt across his face. "Really? One conversation was all it took for you to stop hating her? Took me months for you to stop being mad at me. What on earth did you two talk about?" he chuckled for a moment. "I've gotta know her secret."

"I didn't say I stopped hating her. I just... hate her a little less now, I guess."
"She, uh... opened my eyes to some new possibilities."

Charles smirk faded, replaced again by a thoughtful face. "Possibilities... like what?"

"New ways at looking at things," Tess says, trying to be nonchalant.
"Ah, here's where my tools got to."

"Sorry, I had some really bad dreams last night. Worse than that recurring nightmare I used to have. It has me out of sorts."
She finally meets Charles's gaze. "In the tomb... Everything that happened, I think it's left some lingering effect on my mind."
"I was inches away from succumbing to madness."

His expression changed to worry. "Oh, I see. I'll help you deal with that afterwards." he stands up to come over and hold her.

Tesswyn leans into Charles's embrace. "Thank you. I would have lost myself long ago without you,"

Charles holds her for a bit just taking her presence in, then he cracks one eye open looking down with a mischievous grin.
"Don't necessarily mind the look here either. So the two of you slept naked together?"

The robe is a little long on Tesswyn, and she doesn't have the curves to fill it out like Kahtia does. She gives Charles a little shove. "You should know better than to ask a girl what happened at a slumber party!"
She looks up at him, suddenly thoughtful. "Why, does that thought excite you?"

"I shouldn't huh? Well you know my more formative years were me being raised in the wilderness..." His smile fades and he looks uncomfortable.
"I can't say the thought of you naked doesn't excite me... but with Kahtia? ... I don't know. I love you... but Kahtia's a stranger we only met a few days ago. I don't know really anything about her. The thought is off-putting."

"I'm honestly just more curious now... what did you two talk about?"

Tesswyn stretches up on her toes to kiss Charles. "Maybe I will tell you later. We should keep moving for now."

Charles seemed troubled at Tesswyn's evasiveness but let it go for the moment. "Alright Tess. We'll talk about it later."

Tess nods and turns away, hiding her own troubled look.

Kahtia looks up from the heavy, leather-bound tome she has resting on her saddle's pommel when Charles drops back and asks to speak with her for a moment. The dark-haired sorceress has her robes open from the heat -- drops of sweat bead on her brow and the man sees that her décolletage is sweat-slicked as she rides, despite the protective magics she's cast. She greets him warmly, smiling and drawing the paladin closer with just a look.

"Any time, Charles. What do you wish to talk about? We have gone through so much is such a short period of time. I am fortunate you all came across me and allowed me to join you in your travels."

The Paladin rides alongside her. The heat was beating down on him as well, sweat dripping down the sides of his face but Charles seemed to be enduring it well. Unmistakably he can't miss Kahtia's inviting glance and he nods.

"That's part of what I wanted to talk to you about actually. It's been such a short time and with everything else going on, it felt like we were fighting against time or dangers for most of it. You've dropped pieces of yourself but I still don't know much about you, Kahtia.

Now that you have collected the book from your former acquaintance, what do you plan on doing next, once we return to Oasis?"

Kahtia's eyes go to the horizon, to what lies ahead.

"Truth told, I don't know, Charles. I could return to the Tower, but in many ways I have learned all I can from those wizards. I am no academic. I love the world and all its strange sights and smells." She glances at the man as she rocks rhythmically in her saddle. "What's more, Caecrus and the Tower Arcane are not places I would consider safe these days. The Legions control the city, and they are not so mild in manner as our Drot'ook. Great tragedy has already befallen the capital, and I fear it will get much worse before it gets any better."

The mage's green eyes go to Tess then, to Drot, to Gärwin. "I know you four are close, especially you and Tesswyn. I spoke with her last night, by the way. All is well, I think. I don't know what any of your plans are save for going back to the Northern Reach after Oasis, but... what would everyone think of a having a new companion along on your journeys? I think our delving into that tomb proved that our skills compliment one another quite nicely. Do you agree? Would I have your support?"

"Your skills were extremely helpful in the tomb. As for journeying further with us... I will have to think on that for a while longer." he was quiet for a few moments of riding before he continued.

"Tesswyn said something about the two of you having a conversation that changed her mind about you earlier. What do you think about Tesswyn?"

Kahtia cocks an eyebrow at the man's response to her question about continuing to travel with the group, a bit surprised by his hesitation. When he asks about Tess, she answers plainly.

"You were right before. She was angry. Thought I was flirting with you. But she told me some of her story last night. She is vulnerable, Charles. Still quite innocent in some ways. She loves you, but she is confused by her feelings, by her anger at times."

"Hmm, Tess told you part of her past. I see." Charles said with a slight nod. What feelings is she confused by though? he thought to himself.
"What did you say to Tesswyn to change her mind? She was distracted earlier but she wouldn't tell me what was bothering her. I was hoping you could tell me what it was."

"I don't know, exactly," Kahtia answers as she rides in silence for a moment, before continuing. "She told me that she felt threatened by me. That she has been among men nearly her whole life, and... that she lacks familiarity with certain aspects of being a woman. Aspects I sometimes demonstrate. She wasn't sure how to relate to me, to even talk to me."

Pausing for a moment, the woman goes on as they crest a dune and start down the other side. "I told her she had nothing to fear from me. That I thought we could be friends. That we should be friends." The sun beating on her brow, she looked at Tess, some distance ahead of them, and added, "Are you concerned for her? Has she given you reason to worry?"

Charles shared Kahtia's gaze toward Tesswyn. "That part adds up. You're far more forward than any women I've ever met. She said she understands you a little better now."

"Yes, to answer your first question. I do worry for her." he says, concern evident in his tone. "Tesswyn is driven. She's often pushed to her limits by the situations we find ourselves in and is also pushing herself. She sees all sorts of things with the magic's she's been given but to make things worse, she also is prone to nightmares. But I can help her, keep her madness in check.

Tesswyn is impulsive, argumentative, intense, and in a lot of ways maddening... but when I faltered before she helped pick me back up. She was there for me when I needed someone. She is always honest with herself and with me. So now I want to always be there for her." he sighed, but it was a happy sigh. "I love her."
As he finished speaking they finished their descent down the dune. The air was unfortunately no cooler here than before and yet another set of low rolling hills stretched before them.

Kahtia smiles as they reach the bottom of the dune. "She knows this, Charles," she says, "but I do not know if she yet understands it."

"I don't know what you mean by that." he rode on for a bit before turning back to her.

"Kahtia, you are serious about coming with us, but I'm still undecided about whether or not I want you to come. Here's the thing... the answer to your second question you asked. Yes, she has given me some reason to worry about her. Tesswyn has never avoided telling me something before as much as she's avoided telling me what's been bothering her this morning. I know her and there's something she is holding back about telling me and I can't think of why.

Tesswyn hinted at something and I'm honestly not sure how I feel about it. I think you know what it is." Charles pulled the reins of his horse, bringing his horse closer to Kahtia's so that they were right next to one another.

"I trust Tess, it took a long time to help build her trust of others, years to open up to us when she was feeling down. We've known you less than a week, so I need to know you aren't going to hurt her. I need to know you aren't going to make her do something she regrets. I need to know we can trust you."

"You won't lie to me, right Kahtia? I don't need your answer right now... but I would like one by the time we reach Oasis." he said, facing her directly.

Kahtia pulls the reigns on her mount and regards Charles with a level gaze as she stops in her tracks. "What are you suggesting, Charles?" she asks, her voice cooler than usual. "I have no intention of hurting Tesswyn, or of making her do anything. She is her own woman, as I am. Do you seek to control her every movement and thought? If there is something she is not telling you, perhaps it is something she does not want you to know. And what of Drot'ook? Will you corner and question me once I have taught him a new spell? Or when I pay Garwin that which I owe him? Are you and your New God so jealous and small-minded as that? I had thought not, but now I wonder."

Her voice was rising some now, carrying to the others. "We have trusted one another already with our lives, Charles." Anger flashes in those green eyes. "And what makes you think you can determine whether I am allowed to accompany you? Do you speak for everyone? Perhaps you do." Kicking her horse into motion again, she throws him a final barbed look over her shoulder. [b]"If that is so, we will part ways. I will not stay where I am not wanted."

Charles anger was immediate at the accusations Kahtia was leveling him with.
"Now wait just a minute!" he angrily demanded spurring his own mount into motion after her. "You have no idea what it is you're talking about, what we've been through already. Don't you dare suggest that I'm in control of anyone else's actions, I don't speak for anyone but me. Not those of my friends, and especially not Tesswyn!"

"You want to know why I questioned you? Did Tesswyn tell you about the time she was nearly sacrificed to the Demon Lord by a handsome, nice, and charming man she'd med earlier that night?! She had no idea until he'd drawn the knife and had to fight for her life and kill that man.
What about your acquaintance, Withir Buckling? He traveled with Lemuel all through the Wastes right up until he bewitched the man and nearly sacrificed him in the Tomb of Anak'Hainumen!"

Charles wasn't hiding anything anymore. All pretenses of a calm demeanor were gone now.
"You were on a mission when we met you to chase after Buckling and get the book he stole back, right? We happened along at the same time and made it easier for you to do that and so we continued on together. Now you have it and it sounds like you're considering not returning it to where it came from? Wasn't it extremely important to everyone you get it back?

Of course I have questions for you. I'm worried for my friends. Hell, maybe I'm a little paranoid even! I'm determining whether I can trust you or not. You asked for my opinion, mine, about whether or not I thought it was okay for you to travel with us after the fact and I gave it to you. Sorry a maybe wasn't exactly what you were hoping to hear!"

"Tesswyn hasn't told me her life story, Charles, no," Kahtia said as she rode, not looking over her shoulder at the man as he caught back up to her. "We talked last night, and I'm simply telling you we came to some understandings." She frowns as she continues, memories of a friend dead and gone clenching her jaw.

"Buckling stole the book from me, paladin. He fooled me. Manipulated me. That vile book corrupted him. So in a way, I am responsible for the things he has done." The mage rides on in silence for a moment. Charles, as angry as he is, can tell she has more she wants to say.

Turning in her saddle, silhouetting her figure dramatically silhouetted against the darkening oranges of the coming sunset, she meets his questioning stare with steel in her eyes. "I am unwelcome back at the Tower, Charles. I have no home. I came here to try and stop Withir. I failed in that, but thought I had found new allies. I thought I had found other cast-offs that had been ground beneath Urth's bootheel. Cast-offs who would accept me rather than judge me."

Her chest rises and falls evenly as she calms visibly. "I've not found that, have I?"

Charles stops and he meets Kahtia's stare, really just looking at her now. The anger he was feeling began to seep out of him, as the tension of their conversation dimmed.
As she told him more of her being betrayed he sense her hurt and anger, now not entirely directed at him.

"You have nowhere to go?" he asked quietly, the memories of his own years beginning to flash before him.

For as long as Charles could remember, every few years of his life he'd been forced to leave one place or another he'd called home. He could feel what Kahtia was feeling now.

As she told him her hope at traveling with them, he began to feel her sadness. He stared at her silhouetted figure against the setting sun. He could feel the truth of her words, and he realized that this beautiful woman, Kahtia, was at a crossroads here with him now. He could hold on to his anger and drive her off. He could say nothing further and let this mysterious women disappear from their lives as quickly as she had come. Or, he could take a chance, he could give her a reason to stay. Offer her a choice to stay with them.
He had been unnecessarily harsh with his words. Had made unconscious demands of her. The group she had found were in fact cast-offs. Tesswyn, Drotook, and himself had managed to stay together despite all of them being shown time and again that Urth had not wanted them, that they were not to be given a home. Even Garwin, who was newer to join them had his own struggles. Was Charles really going to do the same?

"Maybe, maybe I was too harsh towards you, Kahtia. You did prove yourself time and again in the Tomb of Anak'Hainumen... and before it. I was wrong to make you feel like you were unwanted, or to be overly suspicious of you.
You're not wrong in your assessment. We are cast-offs from this place and none of us have had a happy life. I'm not sure any of us have ever had a place we could safely call home, not without some form of tragedy too far behind to try and tear it away from us. "

He clinched his fists in anger, then looked back up at Kahtia.
"I'm so tired of losing the best things in my life, I just wanted to protect what little happiness I have found. But while doing so, I held you back at arms length and I lashed out at you the moment something seemed wrong."

Charles sighed, releasing his fists and seeming much more weary.
"My God and my religion have no bearing over what I've done. I won't ask you to forget what I've already said to you... or even forgive it.

However, if you still wish to accompany us further, though I don't speak for the others, I give you my support."

Kahtia listens as Charles speaks, her expression difficult to read -- until he mentions wanting to protect and defend the sliver of happiness that he and Tesswyn and the others enjoy. Her features soften and she reaches a hand towards the man as he finishes saying his piece. Charles hesitates before he takes it, but when he does, the woman smiles and grips his strong hand warmly.

"I understand your desire to guard what you treasure -- truly, I do. I will not forget your support in this, Charles. I know we have been together but a short time, but I feel connected to everyone. Tesswyn -- as strong and fierce as she can be -- needs female companionship. She has never had that dimension in her life, and she desperately needs it. Drot'ook needs a teacher. The magics he employs are dangerous. He has skill, but he risks much without understanding some core principles of how the forces he seeks to command work. And Gärwin... his hide is stony, and he shelters much pain behind it. It will consume him unless he faces it, and I believe I might be able to help him with that."

Releasing the paladin's hand, Kahtia began to ride again as a sly smile returned to her perfect lips.

"You might even find you need me at some point, Charles."

Charles examines Kahtia spoke, gripping his hand. She believed she had things she could offer the others that he couldn't. She was right about Tesswyn and Drot'ook. There was not much in either regard he could really do for them in those respects. Kahtia was a woman, it was a difference none of them could help Tesswyn with. Tesswyn was a follower of the Old Gods, not that Charles had anything against them, they were just two different worlds to know.

Charles was a follower of the New God and while there was magic of the divine, it couldn't help Drot'ook in any way. "Drot'ook has been learning haphazardly for a long time now. Direct instruction could help him."

Garwin while he likely appreciated the sentiment of the divine, was far more down to Urth. He nodded to her perception of Garwin, "Garwin especially doesn't like to talk much of his past. Mentioned he was a guard once, before all of this. Not entirely sure what happened to put him on this path but he eventually became a squire to a knight after that. That man died defending Garwin and his son. But it seems like ever since he lost his son... he's been entirely devoted to his duty as a knight. I've been worried he's just been looking for dangerous situations to throw himself into since then." he turned his gaze upon his friends

He followed her after she released her grip, moving his own horse forward. When she turned back to him he gave her a questioning look. "Me? I'm not sure what you mean again, Kahtia."

"As with many of us," Kahtia says lowly, "there is great sadness in Gärwin's past. We can all help him let go of it. Help him forge a new future."

Charles stews on the woman's earlier comment about about him needing her, then poses his query. The man's ring warms strangely when the beautiful mage answers.

"I'm not sure I know what I mean either, Charles. Sometimes my tongue wags just to fill space."

Charles blinked and slowly shook his head. "No, I don't think it does. You're too smart for that Kahtia. You knew exactly what you meant with that comment." he stared at Kahtia again, his intent was clear, he wasn't letting this go.

"Perhaps I did," the woman responds, her eyes back forward, watching Gar and Drot riding together. "Life's paths are long and twisting, Charles. One never knows how they might intertwine, and intersect."

Charles followed her gaze along the dunes for a moment looking at his companions as they traveled in the dimming light. Charles started to nod, but then caught himself. "I suppose... wait, no. Kahtia, that wasn't an answer. Why did you say you didn't know when you clearly did? What did you mean by that?"

A sidelong glance and a slight smile accompany Kahtia's response, the final one of their long and winding conversation. "Some secrets are best kept, Charlemange. And when they are finally revealed, they are the sweeter for it."

Mouse was not particularly strong or smart, and one day found himself being beaten up by some strangers. This kind of thing happened before, usually to take what little money he had or just for fun. This time was different. After being knocked out, Mouse could vaguely remember being carried somewhere. Some place with an ever-present ticking and a man speaking in a deep voice. "Another gutter punk, eh? Nobody will miss him. Get the machine ready." Shortly afterward there was an intense burning sensation, then nothing.

He awoke sometime later, but things had changed drastically. First of all, it was less that he had awoken and more that he had become aware of his surroundings. Second, he was a being held in place on some kind of table. Finally some strange old man was speaking to him, the elderly fellow was giving him instructions to kill someone he'd never heard of before. Mouse tried to move and when that failed, tried to scream. But he couldn't and it was then he realized he didn't even have a mouth. He was a Clockwork.

Unfortunately for the soul, the machine would not leave the city. When Mouse got within the city gates, he could not move further than five feet over the threshold. There would be no escaping the task before him. Gerald was not a subtle man and news of his exploits reached even the beggars upon the street. His pursuit of a lovely noble woman was the the talk of the town followed only by his rather scandalous behavior at an upperclass bordello. The man seemed to think himself the world's gift to women and was not shy about spending the money he had supposedly stolen.

It was easy then, for the Clockwork to find the man once again partaking in the pleasures of the flesh. Using a grace not seen in the young urchin, AA-03 scaled the side of the bordello and entered into Gerald's room through a velvet-cloaked balcony. Mouse knew that his man's death might be the key to his freedom, but ultimately he could not bring himself to kill, even to free himself. The machine, though, had no such qualms. Before he even realized what was happening, a gunshot rang out and the man was dead. The hired courtesan ran screaming from the room as Mouse stood there in shock.

As the clockwork stood there, frozen, words begin to spill out from somewhere within his body. "This is Assassination Android Model Three, on behalf of Fitzpatrick Engineering and Lionel Fitzpatrick, Justice has been fulfilled. Gerald Eduardo Twiddle of Blackpool has embezzled funds in excess of three hundred crowns and has been terminated from employment. Any and all legal proceedings must be filed with the Fitzpatrick Agency. Abjudication and summary execution of Mr.Twiddle was done by the Fitzpatrick Disciplinary Board and is not subject to regional law." Guards, prostitutes and passersby started to gather around him and Mouse knew his time was up.

He tried to flee, but his body might as well have been made of stone. The soul knew he was trapped and raged against his body's leaden weight. He had to MOVE! As he struggled and raged, something within the clockwork's body gave way. Suddenly, He was free. Mouse broke into a run leaping from the third floor balcony and landing roughly. His body creaked from his mistreatment, but he struggled onward, moving as quickly as he could for the dockside. He leaped, like a metal swan, directly into the ocean. Sparks flew across the ocean's surface and his onlookers thought the machine was destroyed.

The next six months was spent beneath the waves, as Mouse walked and walked uncertain of where he was going, or what he might find. Beneath the water, the world was quiet and foreboding, leaving plenty of time for self reflection. When he finally surfaced, he found himself upon a small island inhabited by some form of pygmy. The Goblins, as he learned they were called, worshiped him as some form of shining deity. Especially after he accidentally fried one of them with electricity. With time, Mouse learned to control the electrical outbursts he would occasionally generate. It was a strange, but comfortable life.

All good things though, had to come to an end. A large ship was moored near the island, one whose flag Mouse remember being vaguely familiar. The Goblins were excited, but their Clockwork Deity recalled vague terror at the sight. It was only when the men arrived and started snatching up the goblins did Mouse remember. He'd seen the very same flag on a ship the day he'd been captured. Unfortunately, the slavers vastly outnumbered the Clockwork and he was swiftly defeated.

Mouse was reactivated within a cell, a scruffy looking human winding his key. In rapid-fire Common, a man who look to be in charge asked Mouse a bunch of questions, growing frustrated when the Clockwork did not respond. Mouse stayed still, pretending to be malfunctioning. The two slavers left Mouse, locking the door behind them. There he waited, slowly building his strength. Each day the same two men would approach his cell and each day Mouse would stay still. It was only when they started to talk of scrapping the machine that he acted. Unleashing a bolt of stored energy, the two men were fried where they stood.

Taking a cutlass from one of the downed men and a ring of keys from the other, Mouse set about freeing the other slaves. Overwhelming the few guards nearby, the slaves started to arm themselves to take over the boat. They were weak and hungry, except for the goblins, and most of them would not be much use in a fight. However it was what they must do to secure their freedom. Cutlass in hand, Mouse lead the ragtag band onto the main deck, where they confronted the majority of the slavers.

Heavy rain and thunder crashed across the sky as the slavers and slaves crossed blades. Several people on both sides were washed overboard. As they fought though the slaves were being pushed back. for all their desperation, the greater skill of the slavers was proving too much for them. Mouse expended every drop of excess energy he had into the enemy, but was forced to cross swords with the enemy captain. As lightning cracked across the sky, his allies started to pushed back, leaving the Clockwork fighting on all sides with their oppressors.

Mouse was struck with terribly, smashing a large chunk of plating from his chest. It was then that the soul began to lose his grip on the body. It moved on its own. With expert movement, the machine cut through two more of the slavers. It seemed to Mouse that the machine's expertly tuned movement might be turning the tide, perhaps he could take his freedom! However, these hopes were dashed as he was struck once again and crumpled to beneath their forceful blows. As the machine lay unmoving, he heard the slavers gloat about their victory just before everything went white.

Later, he was told by the other slaves that he had been struck by lightning and the resulting explosion had wiped out the majority of the remaining slavers. By some miracle AA-03's body was intact enough to be repaired by one of the more savvy crewmembers. In an almost unanimous decision the freed slaves voted Mouse to be their new leader. The outright worship by the goblin crew had certainly helps swing things in his favor. It was quickly made apparent though, that they had lost a great number of supplies in the battle. With the crew starving, Mouse had to act quickly before they began to chafe under his leadership.

So began Mouse's career in piracy. Reading the maps available and hearing the advice of his more savvy crew, Mouse was able to carefully pick ship after ship to raid, and slowly came into infamy as the newest threat on the seas. The small island of pygmy goblins became a pirate hideaway where Mouse's crew would lay low. The crew who simply wanted their freedom were let free at any port town, and new fresh blood was hired on. Worshiped by the goblin crewmembers and surrounded by cutthroats, Mouse's name spread fear along the coastline. Ultimately this brought attention that would force him to retire from piracy, but that is a story for another time.

The pirate's "fearless" leader was terrified of the men under his command and for once was thankful of his expressionless exterior and lack of a true voice. Nobody knew what he was thinking, a small comfort amongst the captain's worries. He was making a name for himself, for better or worse and competition was starting to take notice. He'd have to fight off other pirates before long and the bounty on his head only seemed to grow.

Before long, Mouse was standing at the edge of his ship, about to walk the plank. He'd taken extra care to assign less than the normal number of crew that night and prepared to leap into the ocean. He'd been planning this for a long while and he knew if he kept walking from this point, he'd reach shore eventually. Lost in thought, Mouse never noticed the crew member sneaking up behind him until he was already sailing over the side. Somebody had tried to kill him.

It was a long three month walk back to shore and Mouse had plenty of time to consider who the traitor was. Ultimately though, he decided to count his blessings and move on. This would be his best chance to return to the town he'd been born and perhaps recover some small part of his life. It was strange though, he'd been in this mechanical body for so long, he was beginning to forget what life was like beforehand. As he walked, he comforted himself with thoughts of life at home and all the new possibilities his robotic body opened up.

Mouse arrived back to his hometown barely remembering what it had been like. His new height threw everything out of proportion and even the most familiar streets looked alien to the returned soul. As he came back to the orphanage he'd stayed just some three years ago, the owners welcomed him as a stranger. Asking to look around the building, Mouse went to his secret stash and found it, his treasure.

Pulled out from under some floorboards was a small battered flute, wrapped in some spare rags. Mouse stared at the instrument for several minutes, running his metallic fingers across the keys. If the machine could cry, he would, but all he could do was quietly put the instrument in his pack and leave.

The clockwork took a simple job at the pier, porting goods from ship to ship and the surrounding buildings. He wasn't paid much, but Mouse no longer needed to eat, meaning he could spend his money how he wished. When not working, he'd pay boys from the orphanage to play the battered flute, listening quietly as they played. None of them were any good, but it reminded Mouse of his own time on the streets and brought him some measure of peace.

As was becoming the norm for his life, these tranquil days were shattered as Mouse saw something at the docks that made him freeze. A Clockwork. Not just any clockwork either, A Fitzpatrick Assassination Model. Terror roiled through Mouse's mind, what are they doing here? Did they find him? Were they searching for him? His recent years told him all he needed to know, and AA-03 took off that day, riding hard for the next town. He needed to get as far from this place as he could.

He spent the night in the next town, staying at a tavern called Rooker's Stead. Mouse didn't need to sleep, but he did need time to think. His time as a pirate had definitely drawn the attention of Fitzpatrick Engineering and they were most likely trying to reclaim their property. This was all but confirmed that night as he saw the Clockwork burst through the doors of the tavern. It was only a matter of time before the hunter was at his door and Mouse needed to make his move now. For the second time in his life, Mouse leapt from a third story window.

More used to his constructed body, the ex-pirate hit the ground running. He fled through town and stole a horse, heading inland. Though he had a small head start, it was all for naught. His hunter was tireless and relentless, never hesitating to act, unlike the soul it was chasing. There was a crack of gunfire, and the chase was over. Mouse tumbled to his feet as his horse keeled over, dead.
In a flash his gun was in his hand, blasting at where his pursuer used to be. As the hunter's horse fled for it's life he heard a voice. One he'd never wished to hear again.

"This is Assassination Android Model Six, on behalf of Fitzpatrick Engineering and Lionel Fitzpatrick, Retrieval of Model Three shall now commence. Model Three is designated AWOL and must be deactivated for inspection. Should Model Three resist in any way, Model Six is authorized to breakdown Model Three for spare parts. Model Three is considered property of Fitzpatrick Engineering and appeals on its behalf will not be recognized." The leaden feeling sank into Mouse's body once again, but this time it was trivial to shake off the compulsion.

Clouds had rolled in earlier and as the first raindrops fell, both androids opened fire. Six was slightly faster than Mouse, landing a glancing blow to the shoulder as they separated. Mouse fired back, but he only caught air. The two androids darted between rocks, shooting with a speed only machines were capable of. Six took a shot to the chest, but manage to graze Mouse's head. Had it been much closer, Mouse would have been out of commission. Mouse would occasionally vent electricity at Six, but the opposing android simply moved out of the way. In fact, Mouse took a shot to the leg for his trouble.

He could feel it. Six was faster than him. The rain soaked into his clothes as he started to panic. This was going to be the end. He'd be broken down to scraps for some heartless bastards who'd ended the life of a mere child. As he despaired he could see blur of movement, too fast for his mind to follow. But not his hand. Mouse watched bewildered as his body moved of its own accord, tracking Six with unnatural precision. The hunter Android ate another bullet to the chest, denting its outer plate. The machine moved itself as the mouse watched, fear gently ebbing away. He could tell Six was damaged, but knew that it wouldn't stop until it was scrap metal. He wanted so badly to flee and just run away, to hide from the world. But he knew Six would never stop, it's what he was designed to do.

The air had changed around them, Six was on the defensive and if Mouse could just push him a little more, he'd snatch victory. He thought of a plan, quickly circling around where Six was hiding, he fired a shot and ate a bullet to his leg for his efforts. Six was still faster than him making his escape behind the nearest boulder and into Mouse's trap. A bolt of lightning struck Six as he rolled to safety, frying his partially exposed innards. Mouse limped over to Six's body and claimed a true prize, Six's gun. Then he felt it. The air had changed again, and Mouse could feel the electricity emanating from Six's body. With a flash of light and a crack of thunder, Six exploded. The rain was building and lightning still arced from Six's body into the sky. The gun was slagged and Mouse was left with nothing but electricity burns.

Taking uneasy steps, Mouse left his would-be killer behind.

Charles tried talking to Tesswyn several times while in Oasis, usually in the mornings once he had a chance to recover his magic and helped to restore her sanity some. He was rebuffed the first time outright, and with a sympathetic nod he simply said "Just let me know when you want to talk." The next few days seemed to be the same routine, Charles helped those of Oasis as much as they would let him, the group being met with a mix of respect, awe, or fear.

On more than one occasion he took note of Tesswyn suddenly leaving a room he came to, finding something she suddenly needed to do, or pretending to be asleep. The time in Oasis felt miserable and after most of a week helping restore the town he decided it was time they left.

Upon returning to town and they went back to the house, he hoped they would finally get a chance to talk things out in private. He was shocked when she immediately began to pack her things. After several moment he shook himself into action.
"Tesswyn? Tesswyn." When she continued grabbing her things without saying anything, he felt a plummeting sensation. He could withstand it no longer he finally planted himself in a doorway.

"Tess! Will you please talk to me? What's going on with you? You've barely said a word to me while we were in Oasis."

"I need to leave. I need to go... Somewhere. I don't know where, but it's not here."
She finally meets Charles's gaze, staring at the now wizened and old-looking priest. "I told you to take off that mask the moment you put it on. What the f%+* were you thinking?!?"

Charles blinked several times as he tried to think of something to say. "I didn't know anything was happening. It whispered but I never listen to it. Then after we lost too many horses there was almost no choice."

"There was always a choice. You made the wrong one," Tess scowls.

"You're leaving because of that? Is that why you wouldn't say anything to me for a week? That can't be all."

Tess sighs. "You heard the mask whispering for days. You knew it was a corrupted relic. And yet you persisted in wearing it. Why?"

Charles shook his head an uncomfortable look passing over him. "It wasn't a strong compulsion, it's benefits offered a solution we didn't have. The ability to fly, we all wanted to get out of that desert as soon as we could. If something had happened to even one more horse, it would have become a serious problem. I wanted to fly ahead and get the Skiff but I wasn't willing leave you all behind either. Not in the Waste, it was too dangerous.

Did I do something along the way to upset you Tess? You barely talked to me during our ride back either. "

Tess stomps her foot angrily. "Really? 'The ends justify the means?' You still can't admit it, can you? It's your pride, Charles! Your godsdamned pride! You wore the mask because you didn't think anything bad would come of it. Oh, no, not to you! Not to Charlemange, chosen paladin of the New God!"

Charles grimaced at Tesswyn's words. "Okay, fine! Maybe you're right Tess! Maybe I thought I could deal with whatever the Mask was doing long enough for us to get back to Oasis and deliver it to the Sheikh. If that was the case though, if you were so worried then, why didn't you bring it up more? After that first night in the desert you practically stopped talking to me."

His face dropped. "Paladin of the New God or not, I'm still only a man. I still make mistakes."

Tess looks away from Charles. "There was a lot going on. I needed time to process everything. And I was scared. Scared of what the mask might be doing to you--or what it was bringing out of you that might always have been there. When you dropped on the troll, do you remember what you said?"

He recalled the moment with clarity, up there in the air. "I... yes, I do. When I saw it after getting caught in the storm, I saw it and blood was everywhere, Garwin and Drot'ook were down or bleeding profusely. The dawn spell was working, turning it to stone, but it was too slow. Then you were there, attacking it in close range, and I just had to force it down. It reminded me of the stone statues we'd seen in the tomb, and I told it to bow to me. Then I was flying at it with my shield." He shook his head.

"I didn't think anything of it at that moment. I just wanted to protect you all."

"'Bow before me.' The way you said it... It was the command of a tyrant. A would-be emperor or pharaoh or whatever."

"That was mask's influence... it's gone now. Garwin saw to that."

"And he paid for it with his life!" Tesswyn shrieks. "He's dead, Charles! He is dead, and it's your fault!"
The girl's eyes widen and she clamps a hand over her mouth, but it's too late to take the words back.

He gritted his teeth and slammed a fist into the door. "No, you're wrong, Tesswyn! He chose what happened! He didn't, wouldn't, listen to me when I tried to warn him! I saw what happened when Drot'ook smashed the Was staff after you were forced to hand it to him! Then I was blasted back and lost the mask, and he smashed it! The two relics destruction caused the portal and then he... charged through it."
Charles eyes widened in sudden realization. "No." his energy seemed to leave him. "No, you're right, it was my fault. After Drot'ook left, Kahtia suggested we press on while the two of you went to find him. I shouldn't have listened to her, I should have come with you. Drot'ook wouldn't have done what he did if we'd all been there.

Tesswyn's knees shake and she starts to cry. [b]"You weren't there. We needed you and you weren't there..."

"I couldn't have known he would do that, not to you. Why didn't you run?"

"He had already enslaved Kahtia's mind. I wasn't going to leave him in possession of such a dangerous item. I was going to run away with it once I grabbed it, but then he made Kahtia attack me, and she compelled me to give him the scepter back. I've never felt so helpless..."
"I can barely look at Drot now. I relive that moment every time I see him."

"I'm so sorry, Tesswyn. I didn't know you were dealing with this on your own. I would have left right away if I had." Charles comes over to her.

He glanced at her things she was beginning to pack. "We can leave. We can just go somewhere, anywhere away from here."

"I am leaving. I need to clear my head. But... I can't do that if you're with me."

Charles eyes opened wide again and he was shaking his head. "Wait, what? No, Tesswyn. It doesn't make sense, why are you leaving? Where are you planning to go?"

Tess shakes her head too. "I don't know! I just need some space! Away from memories of horror and tragedy! Away from Ingrid and her insistence on making me achieve some f*#!ing destiny! Cause the only destiny I can see for myself is a continuation of the endless shitshow that is my life!"

Charles was feeling the pain that Tesswyn was. "Oh, I see... I guess I was just part of that too..." The corner of his eyes began to burn and he had to blink a few times, he'd never liked how sensitive to others he seemed to be. "Stupid of me to think that maybe we had some sort of future together than, huh?"

"Charles..." Tesswyn begins, wiping her own tears from her eyes.
"I still love you. Despite everything that's happened... I just need a break."
She hesitates a moment before reaching out to touch the priest's wrinkled cheek.
"I'll come back."
Charles may or may not notice the ring on his finger glowing...

His own eyes were distracted, completely focused on Tesswyn. But the sight given to him from the crown afforded no mistakes as he saw the ring begin to glow, he felt like an arrow had been shot through his chest. But he reaches out and takes her hand in his and he gives her a hug.
"Right." he said quietly at first. "Right, of course you'll come back. I guess I'll have to hold off on doing anything too drastic before you get back. Go, figure things out." his voice has returned to it's usual tone. But after a moment his smile falters a little.

"Do you have to leave right now? Can you stay for tonight?"[b]

Tesswyn nods. [b]"Okay."

"Good answer." Charles says, and he draws Tesswyn in for a kiss. Her own sharp eyes noted that the ring Charles had been wearing had finally stopped glowing purple.

Tesswyn allows Charles to kiss her, to lead her back to the bedroom, to do as he would with her. He falls asleep with the girl in his arms, but he wakes up in the bed alone.
(and scene)

Charles tried talking to Tesswyn several times while in Oasis, usually in the mornings once he had a chance to recover his magic and helped to restore her sanity some. He was rebuffed the first time outright, and with a sympathetic nod he simply said "Just let me know when you want to talk." The next few days seemed to be the same routine, Charles helped those of Oasis as much as they would let him, the group being met with a mix of respect, awe, or fear.

On more than one occasion he took note of Tesswyn suddenly leaving a room he came to, finding something she suddenly needed to do, or pretending to be asleep. The time in Oasis felt miserable and after most of a week helping restore the town he decided it was time they left.

Upon returning to town and they went back to the house, he hoped they would finally get a chance to talk things out in private. He was shocked when she immediately began to pack her things. After several moment he shook himself into action.
"Tesswyn? Tesswyn." When she continued grabbing her things without saying anything, he felt a plummeting sensation. He could withstand it no longer he finally planted himself in a doorway.

"Tess! Will you please talk to me? What's going on with you? You've barely said a word to me while we were in Oasis."

"I need to leave. I need to go... Somewhere. I don't know where, but it's not here."
She finally meets Charles's gaze, staring at the now wizened and old-looking priest. "I told you to take off that mask the moment you put it on. What the f+@~ were you thinking?!?"

Charles blinked several times as he tried to think of something to say. "I didn't know anything was happening. It whispered but I never listen to it. Then after we lost too many horses there was almost no choice."

"There was always a choice. You made the wrong one," Tess scowls.

"You're leaving because of that? Is that why you wouldn't say anything to me for a week? That can't be all."

Tess sighs. "You heard the mask whispering for days. You knew it was a corrupted relic. And yet you persisted in wearing it. Why?"

Charles shook his head an uncomfortable look passing over him. "It wasn't a strong compulsion, it's benefits offered a solution we didn't have. The ability to fly, we all wanted to get out of that desert as soon as we could. If something had happened to even one more horse, it would have become a serious problem. I wanted to fly ahead and get the Skiff but I wasn't willing leave you all behind either. Not in the Waste, it was too dangerous.

Did I do something along the way to upset you Tess? You barely talked to me during our ride back either. "

Tess stomps her foot angrily. "Really? 'The ends justify the means?' You still can't admit it, can you? It's your pride, Charles! Your godsdamned pride! You wore the mask because you didn't think anything bad would come of it. Oh, no, not to you! Not to Charlemange, chosen paladin of the New God!"

Charles grimaced at Tesswyn's words. "Okay, fine! Maybe you're right Tess! Maybe I thought I could deal with whatever the Mask was doing long enough for us to get back to Oasis and deliver it to the Sheikh. If that was the case though, if you were so worried then, why didn't you bring it up more? After that first night in the desert you practically stopped talking to me."

His face dropped. "Paladin of the New God or not, I'm still only a man. I still make mistakes."

Tess looks away from Charles. "There was a lot going on. I needed time to process everything. And I was scared. Scared of what the mask might be doing to you--or what it was bringing out of you that might always have been there. When you dropped on the troll, do you remember what you said?"

He recalled the moment with clarity, up there in the air. "I... yes, I do. When I saw it after getting caught in the storm, I saw it and blood was everywhere, Garwin and Drot'ook were down or bleeding profusely. The dawn spell was working, turning it to stone, but it was too slow. Then you were there, attacking it in close range, and I just had to force it down. It reminded me of the stone statues we'd seen in the tomb, and I told it to bow to me. Then I was flying at it with my shield." He shook his head.

"I didn't think anything of it at that moment. I just wanted to protect you all."

"'Bow before me.' The way you said it... It was the command of a tyrant. A would-be emperor or pharaoh or whatever."

"That was mask's influence... it's gone now. Garwin saw to that."

"And he paid for it with his life!" Tesswyn shrieks. "He's dead, Charles! He is dead, and it's your fault!"
The girl's eyes widen and she clamps a hand over her mouth, but it's too late to take the words back.

He gritted his teeth and slammed a fist into the door. "No, you're wrong, Tesswyn! He chose what happened! He didn't, wouldn't, listen to me when I tried to warn him! I saw what happened when Drot'ook smashed the Was staff after you were forced to hand it to him! Then I was blasted back and lost the mask, and he smashed it! The two relics destruction caused the portal and then he... charged through it."
Charles eyes widened in sudden realization. "No." his energy seemed to leave him. "No, you're right, it was my fault. After Drot'ook left, Kahtia suggested we press on while the two of you went to find him. I shouldn't have listened to her, I should have come with you. Drot'ook wouldn't have done what he did if we'd all been there.

Tesswyn's knees shake and she starts to cry. [b]"You weren't there. We needed you and you weren't there..."

"I couldn't have known he would do that, not to you. Why didn't you run?"

"He had already enslaved Kahtia's mind. I wasn't going to leave him in possession of such a dangerous item. I was going to run away with it once I grabbed it, but then he made Kahtia attack me, and she compelled me to give him the scepter back. I've never felt so helpless..."
"I can barely look at Drot now. I relive that moment every time I see him."

"I'm so sorry, Tesswyn. I didn't know you were dealing with this on your own. I would have left right away if I had." Charles comes over to her.

He glanced at her things she was beginning to pack. "We can leave. We can just go somewhere, anywhere away from here."

"I am leaving. I need to clear my head. But... I can't do that if you're with me."

Charles eyes opened wide again and he was shaking his head. "Wait, what? No, Tesswyn. It doesn't make sense, why are you leaving? Where are you planning to go?"

Tess shakes her head too. "I don't know! I just need some space! Away from memories of horror and tragedy! Away from Ingrid and her insistence on making me achieve some f@%!ing destiny! Cause the only destiny I can see for myself is a continuation of the endless shitshow that is my life!"

Charles was feeling the pain that Tesswyn was. "Oh, I see... I guess I was just part of that too..." The corner of his eyes began to burn and he had to blink a few times, he'd never liked how sensitive to others he seemed to be. "Stupid of me to think that maybe we had some sort of future together than, huh?"

"Charles..." Tesswyn begins, wiping her own tears from her eyes.
"I still love you. Despite everything that's happened... I just need a break."
She hesitates a moment before reaching out to touch the priest's wrinkled cheek.
"I'll come back."
Charles may or may not notice the ring on his finger glowing...

His own eyes were distracted, completely focused on Tesswyn. But the sight given to him from the crown afforded no mistakes as he saw the ring begin to glow, he felt like an arrow had been shot through his chest. But he reaches out and takes her hand in his and he gives her a hug.
"Right." he said quietly at first. "Right, of course you'll come back. I guess I'll have to hold off on doing anything too drastic before you get back. Go, figure things out." his voice has returned to it's usual tone. But after a moment his smile falters a little.

"Do you have to leave right now? Can you stay for tonight?"[b]

Tesswyn nods. [b]"Okay."

"Good answer." Charles says, and he draws Tesswyn in for a kiss. Her own sharp eyes noted that the ring Charles had been wearing had finally stopped glowing purple.

Tesswyn allows Charles to kiss her, to lead her back to the bedroom, to do as he would with her. He falls asleep with the girl in his arms, but he wakes up in the bed alone.
(and scene)

Charles tried talking to Tesswyn several times while in Oasis, usually in the mornings once he had a chance to recover his magic and helped to restore her sanity some. He was rebuffed the first time outright, and with a sympathetic nod he simply said "Just let me know when you want to talk." The next few days seemed to be the same routine, Charles helped those of Oasis as much as they would let him, the group being met with a mix of respect, awe, or fear.

On more than one occasion he took note of Tesswyn suddenly leaving a room he came to, finding something she suddenly needed to do, or pretending to be asleep. The time in Oasis felt miserable and after most of a week helping restore the town he decided it was time they left.

Upon returning to town and they went back to the house, he hoped they would finally get a chance to talk things out in private. He was shocked when she immediately began to pack her things. After several moment he shook himself into action.
"Tesswyn? Tesswyn." When she continued grabbing her things without saying anything, he felt a plummeting sensation. He could withstand it no longer he finally planted himself in a doorway.

"Tess! Will you please talk to me? What's going on with you? You've barely said a word to me while we were in Oasis."

"I need to leave. I need to go... Somewhere. I don't know where, but it's not here."
She finally meets Charles's gaze, staring at the now wizened and old-looking priest. "I told you to take off that mask the moment you put it on. What the f&!! were you thinking?!?"

Charles blinked several times as he tried to think of something to say. "I didn't know anything was happening. It whispered but I never listen to it. Then after we lost too many horses there was almost no choice."

"There was always a choice. You made the wrong one," Tess scowls.

"You're leaving because of that? Is that why you wouldn't say anything to me for a week? That can't be all."

Tess sighs. "You heard the mask whispering for days. You knew it was a corrupted relic. And yet you persisted in wearing it. Why?"

Charles shook his head an uncomfortable look passing over him. "It wasn't a strong compulsion, it's benefits offered a solution we didn't have. The ability to fly, we all wanted to get out of that desert as soon as we could. If something had happened to even one more horse, it would have become a serious problem. I wanted to fly ahead and get the Skiff but I wasn't willing leave you all behind either. Not in the Waste, it was too dangerous.

Did I do something along the way to upset you Tess? You barely talked to me during our ride back either. "

Tess stomps her foot angrily. "Really? 'The ends justify the means?' You still can't admit it, can you? It's your pride, Charles! Your godsdamned pride! You wore the mask because you didn't think anything bad would come of it. Oh, no, not to you! Not to Charlemange, chosen paladin of the New God!"

Charles grimaced at Tesswyn's words. "Okay, fine! Maybe you're right Tess! Maybe I thought I could deal with whatever the Mask was doing long enough for us to get back to Oasis and deliver it to the Sheikh. If that was the case though, if you were so worried then, why didn't you bring it up more? After that first night in the desert you practically stopped talking to me."

His face dropped. "Paladin of the New God or not, I'm still only a man. I still make mistakes."

Tess looks away from Charles. "There was a lot going on. I needed time to process everything. And I was scared. Scared of what the mask might be doing to you--or what it was bringing out of you that might always have been there. When you dropped on the troll, do you remember what you said?"

He recalled the moment with clarity, up there in the air. "I... yes, I do. When I saw it after getting caught in the storm, I saw it and blood was everywhere, Garwin and Drot'ook were down or bleeding profusely. The dawn spell was working, turning it to stone, but it was too slow. Then you were there, attacking it in close range, and I just had to force it down. It reminded me of the stone statues we'd seen in the tomb, and I told it to bow to me. Then I was flying at it with my shield." He shook his head.

"I didn't think anything of it at that moment. I just wanted to protect you all."

"'Bow before me.' The way you said it... It was the command of a tyrant. A would-be emperor or pharaoh or whatever."

"That was mask's influence... it's gone now. Garwin saw to that."

"And he paid for it with his life!" Tesswyn shrieks. "He's dead, Charles! He is dead, and it's your fault!"
The girl's eyes widen and she clamps a hand over her mouth, but it's too late to take the words back.

He gritted his teeth and slammed a fist into the door. "No, you're wrong, Tesswyn! He chose what happened! He didn't, wouldn't, listen to me when I tried to warn him! I saw what happened when Drot'ook smashed the Was staff after you were forced to hand it to him! Then I was blasted back and lost the mask, and he smashed it! The two relics destruction caused the portal and then he... charged through it."
Charles eyes widened in sudden realization. "No." his energy seemed to leave him. "No, you're right, it was my fault. After Drot'ook left, Kahtia suggested we press on while the two of you went to find him. I shouldn't have listened to her, I should have come with you. Drot'ook wouldn't have done what he did if we'd all been there.

Tesswyn's knees shake and she starts to cry. [b]"You weren't there. We needed you and you weren't there..."

"I couldn't have known he would do that, not to you. Why didn't you run?"

"He had already enslaved Kahtia's mind. I wasn't going to leave him in possession of such a dangerous item. I was going to run away with it once I grabbed it, but then he made Kahtia attack me, and she compelled me to give him the scepter back. I've never felt so helpless..."
"I can barely look at Drot now. I relive that moment every time I see him."

"I'm so sorry, Tesswyn. I didn't know you were dealing with this on your own. I would have left right away if I had." Charles comes over to her.

He glanced at her things she was beginning to pack. "We can leave. We can just go somewhere, anywhere away from here."

"I am leaving. I need to clear my head. But... I can't do that if you're with me."

Charles eyes opened wide again and he was shaking his head. "Wait, what? No, Tesswyn. It doesn't make sense, why are you leaving? Where are you planning to go?"

Tess shakes her head too. "I don't know! I just need some space! Away from memories of horror and tragedy! Away from Ingrid and her insistence on making me achieve some f!##ing destiny! Cause the only destiny I can see for myself is a continuation of the endless shitshow that is my life!"

Charles was feeling the pain that Tesswyn was. "Oh, I see... I guess I was just part of that too..." The corner of his eyes began to burn and he had to blink a few times, he'd never liked how sensitive to others he seemed to be. "Stupid of me to think that maybe we had some sort of future together than, huh?"

"Charles..." Tesswyn begins, wiping her own tears from her eyes.
"I still love you. Despite everything that's happened... I just need a break."
She hesitates a moment before reaching out to touch the priest's wrinkled cheek.
"I'll come back."
Charles may or may not notice the ring on his finger glowing...

His own eyes were distracted, completely focused on Tesswyn. But the sight given to him from the crown afforded no mistakes as he saw the ring begin to glow, he felt like an arrow had been shot through his chest. But he reaches out and takes her hand in his and he gives her a hug.
"Right." he said quietly at first. "Right, of course you'll come back. I guess I'll have to hold off on doing anything too drastic before you get back. Go, figure things out." his voice has returned to it's usual tone. But after a moment his smile falters a little.

"Do you have to leave right now? Can you stay for tonight?"[b]

Tesswyn nods. [b]"Okay."

"Good answer." Charles says, and he draws Tesswyn in for a kiss. Her own sharp eyes noted that the ring Charles had been wearing had finally stopped glowing purple.

Tesswyn allows Charles to kiss her, to lead her back to the bedroom, to do as he would with her. He falls asleep with the girl in his arms, but he wakes up in the bed alone.
(and scene)

The door opens to reveal Kahtia, also wearing traveling garb. Green robes hug her body as usual, and she wears sturdy boots and a beautifully embroidered traveling cloak on her shoulders. She has lost much in the excursion into the Desolation, so she is traveling light. Her hair has begun to grow back now, but she still draws her hood forward whenever she is in public.

"I am ready," the mage says simply, joining the other woman in the hall, smiling as she sees her. "Are you?"

"Yes," Tess says. Her eyebrows are thicker than usual, but otherwise she looks the same. "It would be best to leave before Charles wakes and finds me gone."

"That answers my next question," the sorceress says with a smile. "He doesn't know? You don't think he will come after you?"

Before Tess can answer, Kahtia closes the door behind her, then turns and suddenly presses the other woman against the wall. There's a long and passionate kiss which breaks only when both their hearts are pounding. "Does he know about this?" she whispers softly.

Tess is mildly surprised by the sudden kiss, but she returns it with gusto. Once they part, though, the girl looks saddened. "I told him I was leaving. That I needed a break, and that is the truth. I didn't tell him about us, but I think he has his suspicions, and once he finds both of us gone, well..."

Kahtia, ever perceptive, doesn't push Tesswyn on the physical contact. The mage has been hungry for more, and is desperate for such distractions, but there will be time for such things once there are leagues behind them.

"Then let's away. East, to Gateway. There is someone I need to see, and such a journey will be good to clear our heads. Did you leave Charles a note?"

Tesswyn shakes her head. "No, I... I think it's better this way."

"If you think that's the case. It will not come as a total surprise, I'm sure."

Leading the way downstairs, out to the stables and the horses in the dark, Kahtia secures her meager belongings and mounts her pale steed. "Ready?" she says as a pre-dawn wind ruffles her cloak.

Tess casts one last look at the house that she and Charles share. Shared... She lowers her eyes and nods. "Let's get the f++% out of here."

Level 7: Followed the Arcanist Master Path
Agility +1, Intellect +1, Willpower +1, Health +2 (to 27)
Healing Rate remains at 6
Power +1 (to 4)
Added language: Black Tongue (Dark Speech)

Learned the Arcana spell Harness Magic (4)
Switch Rune of Finding (0) for Rune of Invisibility (0)

Learned Arcana Mastery: You can use an action to expend the casting of any Arcana spell you know to cast a different spell of the same rank or lower that you have learned without expending a casting of that spell, even if you have no castings remaining.

Spent 5gc to create Grimoire #2: Alteration: Awaken Potential (5); Arcana: Arcane Retribution (5); Life: Cure (1)

Downtime events / story coming soon.

Learned the Arcana spell Harness Magic (4)

Switch Rune of Finding (0) for Rune of Invisibility (0)

Learned Arcana Mastery: You can use an action to expend the casting of any Arcana spell you know to cast a different spell of the same rank or lower that you have learned without expending a casting of that spell, even if you have no castings remaining.

Grimoire #2: Battle: Wall of Swords (4); Conjuration: Conjure Steeds (2); Life: Cure (1)

Kahtia's head throbs as she comes to. Her robes are plastered to her body, torn, and sun-bleached. For a moment, she doesn't know where she is, or what's happened. There is sand beneath her body, and an ocean of blue stretches out before her. Memories begin to return as she sits up and squints against the sun.

Her short black hair, grown in now after the events in Oasis, almost half a year ago, is a tousled mess. Her tanned, beautifully tattooed, sun-kissed skin has traces of salt on it, as though she's been long on and in the sea.

A figure approaches from down the beach as the woman's senses sharpen some, and she remembers. Remembers the start of the voyage to the Teeth, remembers the treachery of the captain and his crew. She and Tess had been captives, bound and gagged and kept in the filthy, lice and rat-infested hold along with another poor soul... a clockwork. But a storm had hit, one that caused enough chaos to allow the prisoners to escape above deck. After that, it was still fuzzy. There was lightning, there was pain. Had Kaht cast a spell and it had gone wrong?

And then there was the ocean. The endless, violent ocean.

How could I have been so foolish? Mouse thought to himself as he sat, chained in the brig of another ship. He'd gone back to his hometown again, even after the dangers had presented themselves. The clockwork wasn't sure why he was so attached to that place, maybe he was just clinging to his life as a human. He'd been captured for almost three days when he was joined by two women. One was exotically beautiful and the other, well, she seemed quiet and almost withdrawn from the world.

He didn’t react when they were brought in, once again pretending to be broken. It had worked before, but the guards didn’t pay him any mind and simply locked the cell again. Moused watched them carefully, they looked and almost smelled of money. Their skin was well kept, hair was clean and they looked as if they’d been eating well. These people didn’t belong in a place like this. It was then that Mouse thought about one of the tricks he’d heard about during his days as a pirate.

The crew would act well mannered (for sailors) and greased any wheels they needed to to keep their reputation under wraps. Then, they’d wait for a catch, someone with money to burn, and take them aboard promising them they were the fastest or most luxurious cruise available. Once they had enough guests, the pirates would sail out into open waters and fly their true colors. It made Mouse sick to think he’d ever been in such a business.

There was something else about these women. Despite their predicament they weren’t afraid, moreover they were scheming some kind of escape plan. He’d supposed they must have been some kind of adventurers, hardened through hardship. There was something else too. He could sense the air shifting, the kind of charge that only happened when a storm approached. It was time to move again.

There was a great crashing sound. Water everywhere. Then darkness. And in the darkness, a dream...

Tesswyn stands in the blasted ruins of Oasis. The rent in reality has widened to engulf the entire town, and demons from the Void run amok, performing acts of unspeakable atrocity on the few survivors. Drot'ook rages alongside them, the Berserker having permanently taken hold of the orc's mind. Kahtia lies dead in Tesswyn's arms, her scorched skin flaking away into ash and dust. Above it all, a wizened figure hovers, the death mask fused to his face, the symbol of the New God seared into his chest and glowing a fiendish red. Charlemange the Tyrant, harbinger of destruction.

"As I've said before, you have no choice. Now, open your soul. Embrace your destiny!" Grimnir shouts. He holds Tesswyn above his face and lets go. Shrieking, the girl tumbles down, down, into his gaping eye socket. Her five senses scream at her as they are overwhelmed with sensations, and she can feel the spirits--the daemons--groping at her, tossing her about, seeking a way inside of her. And then, horribly, inevitably, they find it--

Tesswyn coughs and groans as consciousness floods back into her body. She shakily pushes herself off of the sand and forces her eyes open. Coarse hair pushes through rents in her sleeves and pants, and her eyebrows are particularly thick. It's hard to find time to shave when tied up in a slave ship's hold.

She feels a pair of smooth objects in her hands. Opening them, she sees a pair of small medallions. One appears to depict a humanoid face with knobby growths, and the other is a one-eyed, bearded man.
"F&!!ing Dark Gods..." she whispers.

__

Kahita was so cold in the sea, drifting beneath the waves, the storm, the wreck of the ship and the drowning sailors. She remembers her fingers looking blue, and she remembers that only her strange, sorcerous mutation kept her alive as she was swept along by the ocean currents.

So the sun, now, on her skin feels glorious. Warm and intimate and welcome. Kneeling in the sand, trying to gather her wits and her strength, she watches the figure -- an old, one-eyed man in a cloak -- approach. She says nothing to him, and he nothing to her as he passes by the woman. She can't tell if he's an apparition, a delusion, or flesh and blood. She's in no condition to resist the man if he wishes her harm, so it's with some level of relief that she watches him continue on down the beach. She doesn't notice that he's not leaving tracks in the wet sand, but she does spy a second figure.

Tesswyn? False Gods, what happened to Tesswyn? No. It wasn't the Rogue she saw in the surf. Someone was walking out, walking towards her...

Mouse! The clockwork! The automata had also been captive in the hold of the fat cog Mary Lee, and she was glad to see him. Struggling to her feet, unmindful of the tatters of cloth that provided her with next to no modesty, she unshouldered her pack and left it in the sand as she walked to meet him.

"Mouse -- good to see you. Have you... see Tesswyn? My companion, the other dark-haired woman?"

Mouse leaned over Khatia, offering her his aid in standing. As she spoke to him, a strange click emanated from within his chest. Once she was finished, the sound was heard again and voices poured out from the machine. ”good to see you. I have searched- There’s nothing here!”

It was strange hearing voices, including her own, coming from the clockwork. Though perhaps the lack of a mouth makes traditional speech difficult. While parts of it were unmistakably her own voice, the audio was tinny and easily distinguishable from the real thing.

The raven-haired woman, still groggy from her ordeal, cocks her head at Mouse. "You're a funny one. Are you capturing everything I'm saying, right now?" Without waiting for an answer, she gestures down the beach, in the direction the man with the eye patch had come from. "Tesswyn -- my companion -- might be this way. Will you walk with me?"

Picking up her pack, Kahtia checks its contents as they walk. Her books are all there, including the Book of Night. It's a vile thing, but it's a relief somehow to see that her sealing magics have kept everything dry.

AA-03 "Mouse"Last Wednesday at 7:36 PM
"everything I'm saying, right now?" Mouse repeats. "walk with me? Yes!" The last word was different from the rest, said by something with a squeaky voice. The faceless automaton remains ever stoic, but perhaps it was a joke?

”Khatia!” Tesswyn’s voice called out before switching to some elderly man. ”Sirens, they’re real! I’ve seen- Khatia!” The robotic figure stares at her intently, single eye betraying no emotion.

Stopping in her tracks -- the woman is barefoot, as is often her wont -- Kahita turns towards the clockwork beside her. "I know something of your kind, Mouse. You have a charm compared to many of your brethren. Do you... remember?" She taps his metallic chest with a graceful finger, then traces a heart there. "Before?"

Mouse traces his torso with his finger and plays audio of some official. "This is Assassination Android Model Three-" Then he mimics the motion Khatia made and plays back her own voice. "Before? Mouse."

There's melancholy in Kaht's eyes as she smiles slightly. He doesn't remember who he was before -- and this is a good, if slightly sad thing. "An assassination clockwork?!" she suddenly quips as she starts to walk again "I'll bet you have some stories, don't you? You're not going to assassinate me, are you? I'm too tired for that today. Do you serve a current master, Mouse?"

"No." A guttural growl, most likely an orc, roars forth from Mouse's inner workings. The clockwork falls silent afterward before playing a song. It's the sound of a small flute, the clumsy pipings of an amateur flutist.

Kahtia's eyebrows lift when the automaton next to her growls, but the music that immediately follows makes her chuckle. "We never got much of a chance to talk in the hold before the storm hit. Why did those bastards have you in chains? Did you skewer one of them? I hope you skewered several of them, honestly. I suppose they are all drowned now, so it doesn't much matter. Where were you going, Mouse? Do you know where we are?" Gesturing with a lean, tattooed arm, the shapely mage pointed to several islands nearby, and on the horizon. "These at the Teeth, I think. Which is good, because that's where we were wanting to go."

Turning, Kaht suddenly went inland, up the beach into some tall grasses swaying in the breeze. "This way," she said lightly.

Tesswyn stumbles along the beach, limping from a twisted ankle. Her lips are dried and cracked from the salty ocean, and she squints against the sunlight as she looks for help. Ahead, she sees two figures approaching. A woman and a clockwork! She laughs with relief, a few tears running down her cheeks.

"Kahtia! Over here!" she shouts, waving her hands in the air.

Crossing through the long beach grasses, Kahtia descends down the other side, to a different part of the beach -- and spots her friend and lover almost immediately. The sultry, always composed mage is not usually given to displays of open jubilancy, but she exclaims in delight and breaks into a run when Tesswyn shouts at her.

The two women embrace warmly, and Kahtia supports Tess as they hug, smoothing the seer's sea-tangled hair, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"We made it," she says softly. "We made it, Tess."

Tess hugs Kahtia, careful not to agitate the wizard's sensitive gills. "Yeah, well, we're alive at least," the girl says grumpily.

Stepping back from her travel companion, Kahtia straightens her disheveled attire amusingly. "You're a fright, and I have a feeling I am as well. We will rest and recover, but then we will seek out Drusilla. She will provide us with food and shelter."

A sound over the woman's tanned, tawny shoulder makes her turn. "And look at who else will accompany us," she said pleasantly, looking at Mouse as he trudged up.

Tesswyn glances at Mouse and gives him a nod. "Glad you survived." she says, then looks back to Kahtia. "How are we going to find your sea witch?"

Kaht presses her palms together, closes her eyes, and then hums mysteriously. When her green eyes flick open, they are bright and filled with mischief. "With magic, or course," she says lightly.

Over Tess' shoulder, on a cliff some leagues away, the sea witch's crooked tower looms over the ocean.

"Show-off."

Some time later...

Tesswyn whimpers and thrashes in her sleep, caught in the throes of yet another nightmare. But this one is different. She sees the faces of friends she left behind long ago, hear them calling her name. Something's wrong. They're in trouble. Tendrils of shadow reach out to engulf them, swallowing them whole. Tendrils snaking out of a book. A book in her lover's hands...

The girl sits up with a start, clutching something in her palm. The talisman of the One-Eyed God. The sign couldn't be more obvious if he tried.

"Damn it all," she mutters. The last image from her dream is fresh in her mind, though. With everything that had happened after leaving the tomb, she had forgotten about the prize that Kahtia had claimed. The book of vile rituals, which even now still weighed down the wizard's pack.

She turns and shakes her companion awake. "We need to talk," she says.

Kahtia is not dreaming when her lover wakes her, and she rouses quickly, sitting up. Silver moonlight from Tarterus streams in the window of their room, illuminating the sigils and runes that cover the mage’s bare flesh — flesh that quickly goosebumps as an ocean breeze comes through that same window.

“Tess? What is it? Another nightmare?”

Tess nods, her long hair brushing her pale shoulders. "Yes. But this one was different somehow. Kahtia... Do you still have that book?"

Kahtia's eyes go to the tome in question, the Book of Night. She's carried it with her since she was a young sorceress, but is only beginning to understand it's power, its temptations. She nods and gestures to where it rests, bound in an oilskin Drusilla had given her, in her well-worn and salt-stained pack. "Yes. There. What was in your dream?"

"I saw you using the book's power... or the book's power using you. It's dangerous, Kahtia. Like the funeral mask or the scepter. You should get rid of it before something bad happens."

"It's very dangerous, Tess," Kahtia says, not shying from the truth. "But it might be an important key to understanding... and stopping... the unraveling of our reality we've been seeing. One of the reasons I came here, to see Drusilla, was to understand how to use that book -- without falling prey to it's corrupting influences. It can point the way, Tesswyn, to other artifacts of power. Terribly evil artifacts... that we can destroy."

"Is it worth it, Kaht? If it corrupts your soul... If it twists your mind in the process, is it worth it?"

"It won't," Kahita says after a beat. "And I have you and your eerie to tell me otherwise should I not sense it myself. We will be careful." A quiet moment later, she goes on to explain, "The book is a map of sorts. But one that changes based on what the reader is looking for. We can use it to find the objects that are eroding Urth itself, that are weakening the barrier between our existence and the nothingness of the Void. It will be dangerous. If I ever decide to use some artifact that the book leads us to... you will know then that it has me."

Leaning back with her lover, Kaht touches her face tenderly. "Tess. The end of all things is coming. We must do everything we can to stop it."

Kahtia's words seem to satisfy Tesswyn, but she remains uneasy. "There's more. I saw Charles and Drot. They're in trouble. I think they need our help. It's time to go back."

The short-haired mage nods. "Yes, I agree. It's time."

The rogue slips a hand into her pack and retrieves the travel Incantation. "Let's go home."

Drot put down his book and quill and let out a sigh, filled with anxious sadness.
"I suppose this isn't something I can disagree with and we both go on with our day... Where would you like to start, brother?"

"I saw you just before you broke the Was staff. Tesswyn and Kahtia left to come get you. Why did Tesswyn hand you the staff? Why did you do break it?"

"She handed me the scepter because Kahtia asked her to. The fear in her eyes... Charles, you have to remember that you and Tesswyn are the most important people in my life..."
Drot took a ragged breath, still not making eye contact with Charles.
"The look in her eyes... The fear... I couldn't imagine what the Sheik would have done with both the mask and scepter. The things I wanted to do..."
He finally looked up at the man, his eyes were glassy and hued red.
"The beast inside of me, The Berserker, he reminded me of what was important and we made the decision... I had no idea..."

Charles gave Drot'ook a searching gaze. "... No idea what would happen." he said, nodding.
"I remember Drot'ook. We've been living, surviving, and traveling together for a long time now. Tesswyn and you are both very important to me. The thing is lately I've feel like I've been kept in the dark about some things. Tesswyn isn't talking to me... and I can't figure out why."

Charles gave a long sigh and shook his head at Drot'ook.

"We were supposed to see what trouble had befallen Lemuel and if possible bring him and the relics back to the Sheikh. We'd made it, we'd had everything taken care of. I was tired too, so tired of the Wastes, and all I wanted was to rest. Tesswyn pressed to get them to the Sheikh as soon as possible and I heard no objection from you before we got to the city. Kahtia agreed, but when we realized you were gone, they went to fetch you."

Charles voice dropped to a sharp tone. "Now what I don't understand... what I can't believe, is that Tesswyn would have gotten the staff and that Kahtia would have asked her to give it to you, not in that state of mind. You forced them, didn't you?"

Drot stood up after hearing Charles' accusations, not in aggression but not with aggression. He turned around on his one foot, not able to look at his brother.
"Of course I did! I had to still Kahtia, I don't know the woman! But I didn't use the scepter on dear Tesswyn! She wouldn't hear the words I had to say but she heard Kahtia well enough!"
Now turning to Charles, tears forming in his eye. At the same time, they seem to be turning red and flickering.
"Likely that neither of you have truly noticed, but it's something I've grow accustom to dealing with, as my word has only ever been considered when there is no one left to speak! What else was I to do Charles!? Tell me in your heart of hearts that you were ready to hand the mask over to the Sheik! That you knew only good could come of that decision! A king! already having control over the land, wasn't going to fall to the whisperings of that mask or the scepter!? Did you truly believe nothing evil was going to come of that choice!?"

Charles felt guilt build immediately as Drot'ook spoke to him. "You felt... no, you feel alone. I am sorry I let you feel that way, Drot'ook." he crossed over to his brother. "You did the smart thing, Drot'ook. You chose to protect yourself from a person we've only just met by commanding her with the rod. By not trusting her, you felt secure enough to make your claim that you were doing the right thing. But here's the thing, I realized from the tomb, when we saw that mural come alive, there's a pattern to all things, Brother."

"We have no idea how that man maintains who he is, if the information we gathered was correct. He was a Sin Eater, he deals with darkness on a regular basis, and somehow he remained sane. Maybe he has some other relic that could have protected him. Perhaps he had some way to purify the artifacts. We didn't speak with Lemuel about it and we knew very little about him. We jumped to conclusions... and we paid the price." He reached up to where is ear was, and glanced down at Drot'ook

Drot chuckled lightly, despite himself.
"Perhaps he is already insane. They are the best at hiding it you know... Gar was that way I think. Insane... Troubled... At least more than we are, but the bastard was good at hiding it... "
Drot puts a hand on Charles' shoulder, then cups his hand that was over his missing ear.
"I know what I did was the wrong thing, using the staff, there was so much evil in it...."
He sits down again and turns to his notebook.
".........I have read so many books, made so many observations. Nothing has ever come close to this last entry......"
His voice becomes soothing as he begins to read his own journal.
"Upon breaking the ancient scepter, a billion particles, brighter than the midday sun, burst forth. They immediately scorched my leg; exploding outward at a rate that killed most, leveled all, and then reacted with the debris of an artifact of equal power's particles. These went on to form a rift in the void that was quickly mended when the "Hero of the Oasis" sacrificed his life. His leap into the rift and subsequent and, still to this day, continuous destruction of the Demon Lord's forces, is all that stands between the city of dancing waters, and obliteration."
A tear had welled and fallen into the notebook at some point, during Drot's reading. When he finished, he stared at the page, silently shaking his head.

"... and some of us paid a steeper price than others." Charles finished. "A small but fitting story for Gärwin's bravery."
He sighed.
"Maybe the Sheikh is mad, but we'll likely never know now, Drot'ook. We'll never know how a lot of things could have turned out. "

"Making Kahtia use her enchantment spells on Tesswyn is easily the worst thing you have done. I don't know that I can forgive you for that." He crossed the room back to the door and stopped. "But I'm sure you've thought about that a lot, maybe you've even spoken with them already... we have to make it up to these people... and especially to Kahtia and Tesswyn."

"But!..."
The orc began, but he sputters and stops knowing there was no point. Arguing would only make things worse. Unfortunately that what not everyone's opinion, and the prominence of The Berserker's opinions was quickly growing. The orc began snarling to himself, speaking with two voices, albeit quietly.
"IT SAME! FIGHTING HEADS AN FIGHTING HANDS! NEW GODLY! OLD GODLY! DEMON GODLY! CHARLLLS NOT SORRY! GARIN NOT SORRY! TESS NOT SORRY! PRETTY LADY NOT SORRY!... DROT......... WE NOT SORRY!"
A coughing fit overtakes the orc as he lifts himself onto his bed. He grabs his tattered sheet and covers his face with it, but the redness in his eyes spreads to his hands.

Charles had been trying to work past things but he just couldn't let it go.
"Drot?! What the... what's happening?" Charles crosses the room.

It dawned on him, finally he recognized what was happening but he'd never seen it happen so slowly before.

"Drot? No, wait, you're the Berserker.... Give Drot'ook his mind back!"

Drot sits on the bed with his entire body tensed, as his red and vascular skin fights back and forth with the fuller green skin. In this moment, a voice comes out of Drot that you've only heard once before, a sunny morning by a lake in the desolate.
"Well, Charles, that's not quite right. We share."
"WEL, CHARLL, YOU NOT RIGHT, SHARE-ING!"

Charles looked at the changing skin of the Orc, hearing the mixed voices, it was disconcerting for him. "So you're one in the same? How's your mind holding up?"

Drot finds reprieve in Charles' change in tone, and he visibly relaxes, looking more normal.
"F- fine Charles, we've just come to a disagreement and, well, you know how he gets sometimes."
A smile creeps across Drot's face, the first time he'd smiled in a while. No longer fighting inside, Drot looks at Charles for a moment, searching his face.

"I guess I'm getting a better picture now." he sighed.

"We made so many decisions Drot'ook, and many of them were the wrong ones. It's not even that we just wasted our time out here... we broke apart."

Drot stands and hops over to Charles, a quizzical look on his face.
"We let our egos, and fear lead us, at least I know that I did. There may be other factors as well, but if we make it out of here with our minds intact, it won't happen again... I'm ashamed I got so close to losing my family..."
He puts a hand on Charles' shoulder and leans on him for support. Drot bends down and peers into the man's face for a few moments.
"Charles, it looks like you've aged years since we've been in the desert... H-. how... Hmmm..."
He touches a wrinkle on his face, briefly, and straightens back up. The gears in this mind working through the possibilities.

Charles frowns at Drot'ook's words. "The desert certainly wasn't kind to us in any way."

Drot reaches for his notebook, the leather bound cover was blackened and nearly destroyed, but the orc hadn't had time to worry about that.
"Indeed... But I'm not trying to make light of the situation. Your face and skin, from what it was a few days ago, now looks like it belongs to a man decades older than yourself. This is far more than mere stress and fatigue... "

Charles looked at Drot'ook with some disbelief. "What? That's not possible Drot'ook."

Drot gave Charles a deadpan gaze, and raised an eyebrow.
"You were flying through a desert storm a few days ago, and we just survived an explosion that ripped a hole in the void, but accelerated aging is impossible?"
He grinned at the priest, knowing full well that he was being obtuse.
"Although I don't know much about it or its intricacies, time magic could be at play here, perhaps an adverse effect of the mask... Did you... sleep with it on?"

"What? No, I took it off when I slept. It was too hot to keep it on then."
Charles sighed. "I just... I don't want to believe what you're saying."

Drot thinks for a few more moments before continuing.
"When we get home, I will look more into it. You seem in good health, as well as it can be anyway... So don't worry about it too much."
Drot leans on the broken table.
"I didn't mean to change the subject... Is there anything else you wanted to talk about? I've forgotten where we were in the conversation..."

Charles seemed distracted by Drot's words but he shook his head. "No Drot, I said my piece. Gärwin's death has me on edge and I've been busy with helping here... ..." His shoulder's slumped. "I think the truth is I'm just delaying in leaving here because I don't know what to do next. We came here for a reason and now it's gone. I meant to make us whole again. Gärwin too. Hell, maybe even help Kahtia. I had this vague idea about raising an army to battle whatever came through the void if we couldn't stop it. But then Gärwin did. If the New God heard me and then acted maybe he's fine, but if not, now his soul is in Hell."

Charles gave a soft, derisive chuckle.
"It's strange, we had this momentum going when we were all together and for a while it felt like we could just keep moving along. I don't know if Kahtia will help with that or not. But without Gärwin, we're going to need to take some time and recuperate."

Drot nodded.
"I agree..."
Drot raised a finger in protest, and shook it at his brother to punctuate his next few words.
"Yet not as strange when you look at it from a distance, Charles. Just think, what's the strongest driving force for corruption?..."

Charles looked thoughtful. "I suppose some perspective helps. Uh... Temptation?"

Drot cocks an eyebrow and gives a curt nod.
"Perhaps for some, a matter of circumstance. I would consider it to be power. "
The orc closes his eyes, concentrating, as particles of magical energy form around him. He breathes deep and inhales them; his tired wounds from the day mending slightly.
"Even we got caught up in its grasp I think, it's one of the most drastically changing variables in our lives."

"I can't really deny that, Drot. So what do you suggest now?"

"Once we've done all we can here... I have a school to get back to. There are still people relying on us back in the village, Pell and Billy, all the others. That's what I need to do Charles. I've tired; tired of moving around, tired of risking my life for things I don't believe in... I came on this journey, not because I have sin to be eaten but because I believe in you, and I know that you believe in that. I am more than willing to continue to help you get what you seek, a cleansed soul as it were, and anything else. You're my brother Charles, and that will never change."

"Some secrets are best kept, Charlemange. And when they are finally revealed, they are the sweeter for it." her voice echoed in his mind.

He began to replay the conversation with Tesswyn over and over again in his head. He had been so distracted with her saying she needed to get away that he hadn’t parsed her words entirely but now he was carefully examining it. She couldn't leave with him but she could leave with Kahtia? How in the world was Tesswyn supposed to be able to clear her head with Kahtia around?

Then at one point after over a week it clicked, leading to a chain reaction of Charles going over his conversations with Kahtia, the one where she’d convinced him to let her come with them. The one where she’d stated her goals. He saw several contradictions from what she’d said at first to what she’d claimed later. Had it all simply been to win his sympathy, and he'd played right into it like the fool that he was.

The Book… oh no! The book that she claimed was vile and had driven Withir Buckling mad so he had stolen it from her. The one she had claimed that returning to the tower Arcana was potentially important to the world. She got it back… so, now what? She just said she couldn’t go back now but was that true? More importantly, where had she even gotten it from?

Then he started pacing, going back over the earlier conversation he’d had with Tesswyn in the desert, the morning after she hadn’t come back to their tent. The morning she’d been dressed in one of Kahtia’s outfits. Tesswyn had been ashamed of something...

Charles stood in front of the mirror breathing heavily, the man who looked back wasn't the same face he was familiar with from just a few weeks ago. Charles now saw the lines in the face, the grey in the hair, a scar on his head, and missing an ear now, but even with all of that the resemblance was still there, that was the thing he hated even now.

" She seduced Tesswyn.” the man in the mirror said, matter of factually.

” She has that book and now I have no idea where they are or what she’s doing to Tesswyn! What the Hell?! You lied. You lied and you manipulated Tesswyn. Damn you! DAMN YOU KAHTIA!” he shouted, voice growing louder than should have been normally possible as it reverberated in the walls of the house.

The man in the mirror gave him a grim, wry smile and a dry laugh.

"What did you expect, Charles? Did you really think that she was going to stay with you after this? Look at yourself. Heh, I'd have run away with Kahtia too. Besides, "

The mocking face contorted into anger and he smashed a fist into the mirror, cracking it. Heedless of his hand, he turned his back on the fragmented reflections of the man in the mirror and went to his chest. Flinging the top open, he began to throw his things onto the bed. How he'd wanted to come home, but after everything that had happened, it felt empty now.

He heard a knock at the door. Soft but insistent. He didn't move at first, standing there while blood dripped onto the floor. The knock came again, more insistent this time. Charles responded, crossing the house and opening the front door.

Standing outside was a woman who looked maybe 30 years his junior. She had red hair, had a staff in one hand, wore simple but well-worn clothing, a crimson red cloak on her back. A tattoo shown on her right cheek, marking her as a devotee and fully trained member of the House of Healing and she wore a holy symbol of the Ouroboros, a serpent eating its own tail to mark her as a follower of the New God.

"Pardon my intrusion, Sir. I was led to believe this was the house of the priest of this village, a man named Charles. Is he in?" she stared at him discerningly as she spoke and must have caught either the recognition or the surprise in his own eyes. A look he had seen many times before.

Charles let out a deep breath and shook his head, his sense of urgency creeping back up.
"It is good to see you again, Astrid. But I'm more than a little bit shorter on time than when we last spoke, so you'll just have to pop back up into my life another day." he turned away from her.

It was her turn to be surprised as her mouth hung open for a long moment before she began blinking rapidly to speak. "... ... Charlemange?! Oh... oh by the New God, Charles what happened to you?!" she put a hand to his wall as if to steady herself and followed in after him.

"Oh, you know, battling demons, surviving natural disasters, becoming a paladin of the New God, helping to build a town, exploring tombs... ugh, finding ancient relics and using them without knowing anything about them. Losing friends and having my heart broken when the love of my life left. Just the usual things to age a man."

"No, Charles, no. This isn't a time for jokes, this is unnatural!"

"Really? I never would have guessed... anything else you'd like to point out to me Astrid? Anything your keen mind has observed from my current state of affairs?"

"Your hand is bleeding... and since when did you start wearing a crown? I always thought you'd hated the idea of rulership."

"My hand is fine and the crown is… well it's been more helpful than you know."

Astrid sighed and began to pray "May the reach of the New God heal my former apprentice in his time of hardheadedness." His wounded hand healed magically.

"Thanks, but I could have done that on my own. I've learned some things since you last saw me. No reason you had to use more powerful magic like that on me." he said begrudgingly.

"It wasn't powerful, it was very minor, actually. I've simply learned enough to no longer need direct contact with others. I'm a true healer now Charles. Though I am glad to hear you've learned more of healing magic. But will you please tell me what happened?"

"Hubris! I was... I told you already.” Charles seemed tired. “A death mask, a relic we recovered from a tomb in the Waste, offered power beyond what I could control, and it drained a good portion of my life away and then it was destroyed, causing a magical explosion. Now what are you doing here, Astrid? Don't tell me you came solely to seek me out to see how I was doing?" Charles said, crossing his arms.
She seemed troubled by his words, peering at him more closely. ” No. I was traveling when I heard about a burgeoning town with a new trade route in the middle of the wilderness. I thought to come this way and see what I could do to help these people, once I arrived, I learned that there was a priest with your name who had taken up residence. I had hoped it would be you, but I didn’t expect this. ”

… … … … …

” That’s how it always is with you, isn’t it, Astrid? You always arrive much too late after the fact, or you leave far too early to be any real help. You can’t do anything to help me. The shards of the mask are buried too deep. There’s some residual power there. It was pushing me towards a fate I didn’t want but I think it’s too late. ”

She seemed hurt by his words but she continued speaking calmly. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Charles. You were always drawn to violence, soldiering on, and thinking things were unchangeable. Even after 2 years it seemed like you still thought everything was predetermined. I can heal you; your fate isn’t determined solely by powers beyond your kin. As long as you truly haven’t given in to them. As long as you don’t want them, your fate can change. Remember the Third Truth, Charles.”

Charles looked up at her. ”The Divine depends on the mortal. No the other way around.”

”Exactly. The New God doesn’t want those who follow out of fear or any sense of helplessness. It wants those who follow by choice. As far as I know, the New God is the only one who teaches this in practice and lets his followers know that it is their choices that matter. ” she paused for a moment. ”Despite what you said, Charles. I won’t be setting up a shop in a town anywhere. There are plenty of shrines, churches, and houses full of worshippers who have done just that, but I’ll continue to wander, helping where I can… it is how I came to find and help you after all.”

Charles was silent for several long moments then spoke quietly. ”Then I suppose you had better get going.”

Astrid shook her head again. ”It seems like you’re just sitting around here again when you ought to be moving yourself, I’m not just going to leave you. I’m coming with you, actually. I can teach you as we travel. I do believe your heart was broken, correct? ”
Charles seemed to accept what Astrid was telling him. ”Yes, but that’s not the point. She might be in danger and she left with the person I think is dangerous some time ago and now I have no idea where they are.”

”Well she’s not here in this village, right? This is what I was talking about with people settling down in one place, you get too complacent. Pack your things and lets go find her!”

Charles eye twitched in annoyance. ” I literally just pieced what happened together moments before you arrived.”

”And you can tell me all about it on the way.” she interrupted, shouldering her bag.

” I… I have to get Drot’ook!”

”A friend of yours? Good, I’ll fetch us some more horses, you go get him.”

Charles shook his head and waved a hand. ”We’re not taking horses. We’re flying.” with that he went to grab his things and prepare the skiff.

Charles eventually found Tesswyn at the edge of the miner camp. Charles heartbeat was fast and his anxiety had spiked but he had to set it aside once again.

"Tesswyn, I-. I don't know how tomorrow is going to turn out, we've been busy today but there's a lot of things I want to ask you. I need to talk to you."

Tesswyn looks up at Charles. "Okay. Let's talk." She gestures for him to sit beside her.

He took a deep breath and sat beside her. He was silent for a time, opening and closing his mouth for several false starts. After the third time he started in. "Where to begin? You'd think after 6 months I'd have had everything I wanted to say to you planned out." Charles let out a mocking chuckle at his own expense, the move seemed to ready him though and he looked over at her.

"I guess the first thing I have to ask you is... why did you come back? I know you weren't planning to."

"I had a vision. You and Drot were in danger. I came back to help you," Tess says matter-of-factly, though it's clear she is tying to hide some emotion from Charles. "You would have died if we hadn't arrived when we did."

He looked up at the sky. "A Vision huh? I don't know that I follow exactly, Tesswyn. You lied about why you were leaving and about whether you were actually going to come back." He looked back over to her. "You said you needed to clear your head... and left to go run off with Kahtia. Why should you care what happens to me after the fact?"

Tesswyn looks down at the ground and sighs. "Yes, I lied. I was hurt and scared and confused. I didn't know how to handle losing Garwin and seeing what that mask did to you, so I left with Kahtia.

"I thought that... Whatever was developing between us, I thought it might lead to something more. But it didn't. I was hoping for a depth to Kahtia that just doesn't exist. She doesn't care about me the way... The way that you did." She looks back to Charles. "I don't love her. I love you. It was a mistake to leave the way I did, and I hope that you can find it in your heart to forgive me."

Charles stared at Tesswyn. It hurt, it hurt him to know that he had been left for a potential outcome.

" All my life Tesswyn, I've eventually been abandoned by the people I came to care about for one reason or another. I was beginning to think that Kahtia was a manifestation of this worlds attempt to take away the person I loved. Once I'd realized she'd seduced you the night after we'd escaped from the tomb, I felt like such an idiot for not seeing what I had been looking at that morning you were wearing her dress with my own eyes. Later, I couldn't understand why you left with her of all people to 'clear your head' when she was the most intoxicating woman to be around.

"When I realized she still had the book she had been searching for, the one mentioned in Lemuel's journal, I thought you had been enchanted and taken away for some dark purpose. I spent months looking for you but you had already left West Hold and it seemed impossible to find you with our current means." He paused to take in her appearance more fully.

"Tesswyn, I shouldn't be surprised. Kahtia is a seductress and seems to have a talent for digging her claws into other people's lives. When you both suddenly came back, I thought it was some sort of ironic, twisted joke the world was playing and began to wonder how long it would be before she ensnared Drot'ook."

Tesswyn shakes her head. "She's not all bad. There is potential for her to be a better person. She needs friends to help her realize that potential."

Charles face fell. "What she may or may not need isn't important right now. What happened to you? Where did you go? Does she still have that book?"

"We wandered across the Northern Reach. Caught a ship at Gateway. Ran afoul of pirates, wrecked in a storm, almost drowned. Washed up on an island where Kahtia learned storm magic. Found out the Seer is actually the Dark God Grimnir One-Eye and became a host for daemonic spirits. You know, the usual bullshit.

"She has the book. I tried to convince her to destroy it but she claims she is going to use it to track down and eliminate other artifacts like it or the mask and scepter. But I'm not so sure those are her true intentions."

Tesswyn's answers gave Charles pause. He nodded as she listed off everything she was saying while he was still sorting out his feelings. He would likely never have found her without extremely powerful divination magic by the time he'd acted. The revelation of the Seer being a Dark God was foreboding, but the fact Tesswyn became a host was even more ominous. Then there was the more immediate matters: Kahtia refusing to give up the book and what Tesswyn suspected, and lastly, Charles sorting out what Tesswyn had just asked of him.

"Gods, Tesswyn, this world is dangerous. I know it's late to say it but I'm so glad you're alive." he said, He was quiet for a time before he spoke again, his face hardening. "I'm still angry at Kahtia, Tesswyn. Maybe you don't see it, or maybe you just don't want to, but Kahtia has either been lying to us or she has already been influenced by the book. Her story kept changing about what she planned or wanted to do with it. It drove several people mad already, hell, the first things she told us about it was that it was a vile, evil thing. Because of that I kept going over everything I knew about her for days and I came to a realization. Kahtia is a very clever and very manipulative person. Even when I caught her in a lie she refused to answer several of my questions one of the last times I spoke with her."

Tesswyn sighs. "I know. Let's focus on our task at hand first. Once we finish with the dragon and whatever the f$#! else is lurking down there, we can call her on her bullshit and get to the truth. Together." She tentatively reaches to take Charles's hand.

Seeing Tesswyn still extending her hand to him, Charles did not hesitate any longer in grasping it in his own. As he did he felt a sudden surge of emotion as a part of him he'd thought lost forever was recovered. "Well, it's not like this old man will get too many more chances to have a beautiful women with him, will I?" he spoke with a half smile in a good natured sarcastic tone.

After a few moments a different wave of emotions took Charles, and he squeezed Tesswyn's hand tighter. "I know it's selfish of me to say this, Tesswyn, but I am glad Kahtia didn't turn out to be what you were hoping for in the end. It won't be the same between us, you know? For more than the obvious reasons. But I want you to know that I forgive you."

He embraced her in a hug. "Tesswyn, I still love you. I'm sorry I can't give you all the time I had, but I promise to never abandon you with the time I have left. We'll deal with the dragon in the cave tomorrow and then we'll deal with whatever comes after that."

Tesswyn doesn't say anything. She just pulls Charles into a long, passionate kiss, months worth of emotion pouring out of her.

You throw three grenades, dividing them as you choose among the targets. When a grenade reaches its target, or if it encounters a solid creature or object before then, it explodes. The explosion deals 1d6 + 1 damage from fire to everything in a sphere with a 1-yard radius centered on the target or a point within the creature’s or object’s space. Each creature in the area that gets a success on an Agility challenge roll takes half the damage.

The name came from the slaying of the drake they had encountered, though its namesake wasn’t resigned to its death. The dragon’s phantom appeared in town one day, wreaking havoc amongst the townsfolk. Mouse and the others worked together to once again fell the deadly foe. Though a fierce opponent, the creature was handily defeated. Its undead form was no longer protected by the runic scales that troubled them in life, and was swiftly defeated.

Being a former gutter punk himself, Mouse took it upon himself to take custody of some of the children orphaned in the attack. Despite his cold exterior, the machine empathized greatly with them. He’d seen it before, several times, when he had been living in the orphanage. Some battle or plague would always leave its survivors and with his newfound wealth, he felt a responsibility for them.

He toiled for weeks in his workshop, trying to teach what little he knew to his newfound students. Though there was a few incidents, most of them found that working helped them put aside their pain, if only for a little while. In a near disastrous accident, AA-03 found himself accidentally shot by a prototype firearm. As he fell, the children surrounded him in tears at their mistake. He embraced them then, playing the tune of his childhood. It was fortunate for all of them that the machine was far more durable than the average human.

Once he felt confident in his own research, he gathered his companions and AA-XIII and got to work. Twice he was met with failure, and twice he cursed his own inexperience. As he waited for fresh supplies to arrive, the clockwork threw himself into what little books he could acquire from the library. Being a machine, he did not need to eat or sleep, dedicating himself entirely to his research. On the third week of his efforts, Mouse was struck with a sudden surge of inspiration, and finally freed Mehdi from the shackles of corporate control.

As they celebrated, Mouse was quiet, perhaps moreso than usual. He had discovered a tracking chip implanted on the other automaton and it was more than likely there was one within him as well. This discovery though, was kept to himself. They’d made a great step forward now, let the others celebrate their victory. They could face this problem another day.