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((Sorry for the huge delay, I've been grounded. I skimmed as best I could.))

Arthur was about to respond to the other man when the battle started. "Time to earn my pay." he said to himself and Gus. He spurred Augustus forward into the battle, and the freak rainstorm. He got there somewhat quickly and drew his bastard sword, slashing down a swordsman and parrying a lance, the sword crackled and a bolt of lightning arced off the point and through the lanceman's chest. "Who's next?" he said. A few of the attackers stepped back nervously, "That's what I thought." he said, and raised his free hand toward a group, causing a 'gopher trail' of earth to go toward them and end in a spray of deadly stones and a rain of shredded body parts.

Gus had just trampled someone and Arthur was about to fry another when they suddenly just went away, "Hmm, probably scared of you, Gus." he said jokingly, Gus brayed appreciatively. Arthur then rode back to the caravan. When he got there he was beaming, "A fine fight!' he said, "What did everyone else think?"

Luke groaned to himself. The battle had been short, very short, and he had had barely enough time to do anything. A couple of weak fire spells that sent a few soldiers home with singed shirts. He had stayed near the rear, allowing the swordsman to protect him while he prepared spells. It was a waste of magic though, for all he cared he could've just stayed in the caravan.

He looked down at his feet. He wasn't sure what he was doing there. The caravan was small, almost too small to hold all of the sell-swords, much less holding soldiers along with them. Most of the people in there smelled, leaving Luke to calmly accept his place in the wagon and not make a fuss over the crowded conditions.

He was sure that if he had spoken up, about anything, that he would be bullied by the more muscular members within the caravan. He was beginning to regret his decision to come here, but his master had recommended it for his magical training, saying that the experience would be very valuable in his future.

Luke sighed, an irritated look on his face as he sat there. He just hoped that he didn't snap on anybody. Lucard De'Monte was known to have a bit of a personality disorder. And with his emotionally controlled magics, it made him very, very dangerous...

Lhomas was barely able to think as he began to recover his consciousness. Though his body and mind were numbed, Lhomas could remember a throbbing pain from minutes before. He couldn't remember what had happened. As he checked himself for injury, the battle-hardened mercenary could feel the pulsing pain returning, and knew he'd have to rest or it'd be to much to handle.

Climbing back into the caravan, which he now found himself leaning against, Lhomas tried to figure what had occured before he lost consciousness. Vaguely recalling a chaos lights and vibrations, he must have been hit by some wizard's spell or alchemist's bomb. In truth, it was a Sayn mage who had casted a forceful spell on Lhomas, but there wasn't much real evidance of the attack. After being hit, he must have pulled himself up behind the armored caravan for safety. Admiring his own instincts, Lhomas scoffed at the passing idea he'd been aided by one of his comrades.

Though he'd succesfuly evaded death, Lhomas realized his blade was still sheathed. He'd not engaged in the combat, embarrassingly enough. He sat at the back of the passenger's seats and fixed his somewhat jossled armor back into place, lazily dropped his shield beside him, then passed out again.

When her answer was well received, she moved obediently towards the caravan, following another mage inside. But this one, one she had not really paid much attention to, was seeming a bit angry. She looked over to him, watching the one named Lucard. Jinx had taken seat beside him, folding her hands into her lap with a soft sigh.

But her eyes flicked back to him again, curiously even.

"Don't be frustrated. This'll all be over with and done and it won't be too much longer." Her voice was but a whisper, soft yet still strong and stern. Jinx turned her darkened green eyes down to her lap, a wet braid or two slipping over her shoulder. Jinx stared at the inside of the caravan, then her boots, then her legs, and her hands. There just wasn't much to focus on here. Wasn't much to keep her mind from wandering to places it shouldn't go.

She had to learn to control herself, even though she had gone upon controlling herself in the wrong way. Sometimes she wished she hadn't created the tough cold facade of Jinx, and just stayed Pandora. But Pandora would've been lost to insanity and sorrow long ago... But perhaps she is lost to such... Lost to it now...


Her eyes snapped back up and she bit her lip, flipping her hands in her lap and staring at the small swirls of steely blue color on her palm. Water puddled there, but didn't run over. Just collected cool water, making her arms begin to form chill bumps.

"I want this to be over as well." She whispered.

Rege dodged the arrows and surveyed the area as the army retreated Swinging into the cramped caraven he smashed himself against other like sardines, "What now?" He asked the woman commander, he looked back outside wondering if the battle would get tougher, No hoping they would, "I can't accept money for easy jobs" he murmured, resting the spear against his sholder he drew a rag and began cleaning the blood off the blade and his knuckles eventually tossing the rag out to the muddy ground, he watched it slowly soak and heaved a slow sigh the adrenaline wearing off on him, "Anybody got a rag?" he asked, a fellow sodier nodded and handed him one, Rege wiped his wound and tied the rag to it, he wouldn't have it healed just yet with magic

Seeing the man he had met just before the fight injured he got off Gus and went over to him(Gus followed obediently, close behind). He looked at the bloody rag where the wound was, then at the man, "I believe we have met before, in brief. I am Arthur Rahngin, battle mage and magic master." he smiled and extended a friendly hand, "But you may call me Arty or Rahng." Gus nudged Arthur's shoulder blade and he smiled, patting his snout, "And this is my stallion, Augustus, but his nickname is Gus. He is as a brother to me." He looked at Rege's wound again, "Would you like me to heal that?"

Lucard looked over at this girl. This is the first time that she had spoken to him, and the words did comfort him a little. To know that he wasn't the only one within the caravan that did not relish in the splendors of war was relieving. He looked back to her, and for a moment their eyes met. Something about her was... Different. Her dark green eyes seemed to send a jolt of energy into him, causing him to awkwardly look away.

What this was, he did not know. He did not know her enough to be attracted to her, much less feel awkward when their eyes met. Perhaps, he thought, that it was their magical energies that had caused him to feel the discomfort. Magic had been known to do that, to travel from one person to another, often when visual connection had been made.

The eye was a strong conduit for magic. Whether it be the iris, or the entire eye, changing color due to magic use, or the energetic jolt that had been transferred to Lucard, the eye was important to magical users everywhere.

He casually looked back over to her, though made careful not to make direct contact with her eyes. He smiled a little, then leaned a little closer so that the soldiers would not hear him. "It wouldn't be so bad if we didn't have these rank* soldiers accompanying us."

((*As in smelly))

((I've waited quite a while, for plot's sake, I godmod thee.))

The sound? Boots colliding with aged wood. The smell? Unwashed sellswords. The sight? A pack of sardines in a wagon, a tad more roomy now, what with the disappearance of the soldiers accompanying them. Jessica rested back on the carriage for comfort, it was difficult to make out what everyone said save for the unison their chatter came in. Lucard had leaned into Jinx; not a very professional sight. They could at least wait until we're done with this... Then again, they may be guaranteeing a future. That is, assuming we come out alive.

Something much better than the padded wall: the caravan had begun to move out. Added to the choir were the thunderclouds of horse hooves. With any luck, they'd find a decent place to sleep, as the tactician couldn't bear the thought. Dealing with Alfonse's constant snoring wasn't tough - it was even comforting at times. However we weren't talking about a fatherly figure, but rather mercenaries. The kind that thrive on having women and drinks, like pirates, but they were a threat to more people.

Meanwhile, an agitated rider tried his best to keep calm. It was only Nath's Holy King's best soldier galloping beside himself. Surely, it was peace and serenity that had brought the huge general to where he was today. Or so Alfonse prayed for; pleads unanswered as Karl Nath began to make small talk with the former merchant.

"So, Alfonse was it? I've only seen Alt-Neh once. Hear it's full of beautiful women, even met a few... Whad'ya think?"

The hearty laugh was renowned by his knights, mostly as an annoying old man's cackle. Even if Karl was only in his late 30s, that beard was pretty discomforting, eating off virtually the entire lower half of the long face. Sunk eyes and a bent nose, it all harbored an older appearance and had the soldiers speak of him (behind the general's back, of course) as 'Beard Lord Karl.'

Alfonse replied, trying not to pay much attention to the vulgar gesture and speech.

"Sounds... Lovely. I-I can't wait until we arrive, Sir Karl."

It'd be fantastic to sleep in a bed for once, only Lord knew how many times they'd lived in that caravan, Jessica and him. Alas, finding a willing inn would be impossible considering their mission was to ransack and take over. Such wandering at the mind; keeping the horse in the right direction was subconscious by now. The change in the scenario went unnoticed...

Nightfall. It had just gone dark, stars were visible and the moon hung high in the sky. There was no current of wind to drown out the smelly caravan. Passing along the clear path through the forest, the ground shifted; a light tone of yellow, likely built of worthless gem. An entire road paved with these, a clearing to both left and right, it was a single pathway to Alt-Neh.

Where Sannas was an empty beach with shacks, Alt-Neh was a bustling city. Even now, some walked with lit torches to guide themselves across the maze the buildings made. Their presence conspicuous to the citizens, as the monster they called a house on occassion made way to a huge arc, holding up a metal gate for them. Just why would they do that?

Raaa...RAAaaa...RAAAAAA! Loud battlecries, the assault back at the shore had been heard of; heralded by the survivors. They would meet an end soon by the foolish move, Karl's men had gone in already and were nowhere to be found. Both caravan and those riding with it would see an end if not for a God's miracle. Alfonse regained himself, only to notice... They cheered?! By clusters, men piled around the group, jubilant in their actions. At the front of their band, a little girl cried in joy to see her heroes.

Mommy... It was them, w-wasn't it? They chased th-Sniffle--the bad men away...

Her mother held the girl close, being careful not to let another bump into them. In shock, and having ceased to a halt, Alfonse sat at the cabin mesmerized. They all whispered amongst themselves, some actually chanted 'Heroes' over and over. It was all an unlikely happening, what if they'd died and went to Heaven? No sense in keeping it this way. In a lapse of consciousness, he got off the seat to approach a man, only to be bombarded by hugs on mid-walk.

"You--Ah. Excuse me, w-what is this all about?"

"How can you not know?" "You've saved us!" "Of the bandits. They stole our valuables and now you've thrown them away."

The multiple answers overwhelmed both inside and out, as a tactician's trance was made void. Jessica got up from the seat and walked out hunched, trying to avoid physical contact. Alfonse, you whelp... If we're in trouble because of your wreckless riding, hoo, will you see me mad.

People's cheering strengthened as the initiate mage got off the wagon. They were proud to see another one of their helpers; regardless of what this did to their plans. With a smile on her face upon seeing the crowd-infested Alfonse, she was quickly consumed by her own bunch: it was nice to feel affection for once. But to think they'd end up attacking the place...

Lucard sighed as his mind wondered. Away he went, deep into the swirling depths of his thoughts, lost to all contact of the real world and focusing in on himself. Part of him, the young, good-natured boy that had grown up in the quaint Mev'Tok village, was seriously reconsidering his place among the mercenaries. Their goal was to loot and pillage. They were nothing more than barbaric vikings taking whatever they pleased. His good-sides morals and sense of ethics was greatly empending his position on this crusade.

On the other hand, the side of him that was full of hate, of anger, of greed, and of lust, very much relished in the idea and mere thought of running throught this country, taking anything he desired. Women, possessions, and, with the very darkest of magics, taking ones own Mana to supply his own to greater powers. This side of him had no problem with killing and looting, so long as it benefitted himself.

Lucard noticed the woman, Jessica was her name, get up and leave the small wagon. They had arrived in town and he hadn't taken notice. He stood, hearing the cheering outside, and brushed off his red robe. He then stepped off the wagon and onto the stone street, only to be surrounded by people wishing to thank him for his role in the battle.

Then came the guilt. Lucard could not bring himself to make eye contact with any one of them, each touch bringing a mouthful of the taste of bitter hypocriticism. Here he was, being applauded and thanked as if he were a hero, and yet all to soon he would be using his powers to bring the people of this town to their knees.

Yet another of the ethical and moral decisions that were literally tearing him into two seperate people...

Arthur, lacking an answer yet again, went along with the caravan. After a bit a riding they came upon a town that was full of people...cheering?

He went in, magnificent in his flowing violet robes and on Gus, with his shining white coat...and was swamped by people cheering him as a hero. He took the chants and cheers openly, smiling, but on seeing a woman that looked pretty commanding get out of one of the caravan carts he said, "Ahh, I take it that is the commander I have been looking for. Gus waded through the crowd to her, "Why are we being cheered as heroes?" he shouted over the din. He sincerely hoped he wouldn't have to use his considerable powers to destroy them.

The long march was filled with idle murmurs from within the caravan. Occasionally Vincent's eyes drifted over to check on Alfonse, but for the most part conversation was not something either of them seemed to find overly entertaining. Of course, nothing seemed to be entertaining with the air of arrogance choking anything he would have thought to say. It was obvious Karl was disliked, yet feared, by all of his subordinates, but the story was not the same for Vincent. Fear was uncommon, and the sight of this man did nothing but cause his stomach to churn in dismay. "So, Alfonse was it? I've only seen Alt-Neh once. Hear it's full of beautiful women, even met a few... Whad'ya think?" Spoke Karl. While the information did bring a slight smirk to Vincent's face, the half-smile soon turned to a scowl at the realization of who had spoken it.

Draped in nightfall, Vincent was becoming a bit weary. He had no idea of where he was, and even began to question the navigational skills of Nath's men. Both thoughts slowly drifted to the back of his mind as a loud roar was heard in the distance. Squinting, Vincent could see what must have been their destination, but there was a multitude of people rushing towards them. "Had the enemy already sent word back to their home? But why would they attack us head on?" Vincent's questions were soon answered, but not by what he had expected. The loud roar he had heard was simply the loud cheers the people gave, apparently to their arrival. Confused, Vincent halted his steed beside the caravan as a multitude of people began to swarm. Alfonse seemed to be their first captor.

"How can you not know?" "You've saved us!" "Of the bandits. They stole our valuables and now you've thrown them away." The words filled Vincent's head with possible solutions to what they were referring to, but before he could define a definite reason, he himself had been approached by a small group. The fatherly appearance of Alfonse must have warranted hugs, but the very dark demeanor of Vincent gave the crowd a slight sense of fear. Low murmurs escaped the crowd as they all watched him, smiles still stretched upon their faces. "Without a doubt he must have helped save us." A single whisper escaped into the air. Vincent, slightly annoyed by their stares was about to ride off to the other side of the caravan, but before he could depart he was greeted by a girl. Not even a teenager, the young girl rose her hands up to Vincent. Within them were a small amulet, obviously crafted by the girl due to its lack of sturdy structure. Vincent leaned in to take the amulet as the girl was quickly snatched up by her mother and dragged back into the crowd. He only chuckled slightly in response, placing the amulet into a pocket within the confines of his cloak.

"Maybe we are doing something right... Or maybe these are the people we intend to wreak havoc upon. Mother, let not your darkness be tainted with the blood of innocents tonight. Let Father take in the sight if such a massacre is to occur." Vincent mumbled to himself, eyes drifting up to the moon.

Jinx turned her eyes up, and Luke's own hues were there, awaiting for their eye contact. It was a simple and miscellaneous little event, but it wasn't even a full second before she had turned her eyes back to the hands in her lap. A charge seemed to buzz into her. Perhaps it was a stir of magicks, perhaps not. She had felt the same jolt when she met Yen, the short-lived lover who had impregnated her with Dez.

Her eyes fell shut, and she seemed to sink back into herself, locking herself away into the depths of her thoughts.

"It will be over soon enough sir Lucard..." She whispered, her lips barely moving in the tiny breath, her head seeming to haze with thoughts of her young daughter, her passionate affair, and the tragedy that all came like a hurricane sent to tear her life apart...




Soon darkness had fallen, but Jinx wasn't totally sure she knew of it all yet. Instead, her mind was fogged and her eyes closed.

But cheers and yells seemed to draw her forward, Jinx awakening again. She took a long deep breath.

The woman leaned back, relaxing as she curled her fingers, nails grazing the metallic blue symbols still imprinted upon her palms. As she touched them, her necklace and bracelet charms seem to flicker a softer blue. She combed her hands then into her hair, pushing the braids back over her shoulder.

Then, the caravan stopped. More and louder, these cheers came.

Apparently... Apparently they had become heroes, when their truths were to be villains.

Soon Jessica crawled out, and Vincent, and she followed Luke's exit. The woman followed behind the red-robed man, and then she halted.
A child.
A girl.

She stood before the rest of them, her mother near her. She looked so gorgeous, and so beautifully youthful. The child was an angel.

Jinx felt it; longing. She stared at the child, her lips parted open. Her eyes then gave a flicker of luminous green as she stepped forward again. This girl was so beautiful. She was so wonderfully young. So perfectly sweet. Jinx watched her, watched the girl with a crazed look of desperation. Shortly, Jinx flicked her gaze to Luke, who was nearest to her. He looked... guilty. But her look might frighten. Moisture was gathered along her lids, her eyes almost a lime green, almost glowing beautifully between the confines of her long dark lashes. The look was needy, and spoke that he should understand her; when no one knew the truth and no one could understand.

Jinx jerked her head back, spotting Vincent moving towards the girl. Soon, the mother withdrew the child into the crowd, and she disappeared.
And a new emotion swept over Jinx like a plague.

Envy.


It wasn't fair that these people had a good life, had hope and smiles, and she had her hope and happiness ripped out from her grip.

She turned sharp and stepped a bit away, staring up into the sky and away from the crowd. She had their back to them. She didn't want to see that ungrateful mother, or that magnificent child. She didn't want to see the happy people. The gracious faces.

Jinx drew her eyes down to the forest, and upon doing so, they darkened to a color that looked black in the shade of night...

Lucard watched all around him as the people of the town chanted their names. He truly felt sorry for these people. To them, this mercenary band was a group of people sent to protect them and their children. In reality, Lucard and his companions were there to raze this realm to the ground. It wasn't fair! Why should these quaint people have their lives taken from them? Why should their lands taken from them? They had done nothing wrong to anybody!

He felt sorry for them... They had no idea what was to come... They were so ignorant...

How could they be so stupid? To praise and cheer for their executioners! Perhaps such naive people deserved to die for their ignorance... Perhaps their souls would mourn in the afterlife at their costly mistake... Mourn, and cry down at the mercenaries who had taken everything from them...

And perhaps Lucard should be the one to send them to their graves. Such blind hope for heroes deserved to be ended! He would look up to the crying faces of the souls... And he would laugh his cruel laughter at their stupidity!

Lucard snapped back to reality, the guilt of his thoughts washing over him like tidal waves...

What's happening to me...?

((Sorry for the whiney, ethical Lucard posts. Their main reason is to show the conflict within him))

To break, much as their own job was. But this broke thoughts and cheering as opposed to buildings and people. Poom. In the distance. BLOOOM! Closer now, a giant? After a light thud, the constant beating resumed, growing ever louder until stopping behind the crowds.

"I need to have a word with them. Move."

The source of the rasp found itself alone after quick moving, as all citizens dissipated with a discrete wave goodbye to their heroes. Such presence, up until now, Jessica could only say she'd felt intimidated like that by Karl Nath, and even then, for a general, he was awfully... Well, bad. In comparison, Karl was but an ant, the 6'5 frame (without armor) had nothing on this monster. Bronze-clad the armor, simple, with few plates to it. Bent at some spots, scarred at others, it was clear that giant had nothing to do with petty little soldier games.

"Children... I'd been waiting for you."

This next effort to speak came out as a horrible sound, so deep and rough, adding to it the echo from an empty town, they could be talking to the very devil.

"This is no place to chat in, however. Nor is it the time, we will talk during dinner. You all look tired, too, you'll stay with me for the night. It's the least I may do for you in thanks.

Wait-- repay? Just what? At any rate, this could be a chance to rest up before raiding. Dinner? A bed? For a giant, it seems kind. Too kind... Nonsense, Jessica, you're being skeptic; surely this 'person' is appreciative of our great actions. Real great, by the way. Maybe I can scurry out of this deal, I can find a better one working as a castle tactician, that position in Mev'tok wasn't so bad now that I think about it. They'd have no chance to keep thinking, as nearly out of thin air, they appeared. Dark robes showing nothing but the glint of shiny hues, silver and discomforting.

Taking formation, the quintet placed itself in a square, with a last one following the giant close behind. Opting to go along, both Jessica and Alfonse walked with a fair distance from the pair of men in the back.

"Jessica, this man doesn't seem trustworthy! Just look at him!"

"You're worrying too much. What could he possibly do against an entire group? He's big, but not that collosal."

In reality, the tactician was just as scared, taking the front and covering Alfonse only due to her knowing his nature. After a glance back, he saw it. The caravan... Those rats! They've gone and taken it from under our noses but how-- Your wagon is fine, as is your horse. Both are conveniently placed in a fort's basement, please don't insult my men further. Mind reading? However kind this freak may be, it certainly wasn't too conscious of eavesdropping.

A short stride after, the pair found themselves leading the pack and entering a pair of grand wooden doors. For a fort, it looked comfortable, with a home feeling, even! At first sight, there were stairways and corridors, people walking along them busily. What a horrible military structure. It's fancy wood, for one. And stairways shouldn't be built so close to the door, if at all-- Did you not ask Alfonse to quit fretting? Woman, you are a hypocrite. Now stay at ease until we have our talk... It'll make for nice dinner conversation, at least. Hehe.

Alucard carried Balian closer to the caravan up ahead. He liked to keep a short distance behind everyone. Enough to where he could see and hear everything, but far enough back to keep his thoughts floating in his own head. Bailian kept his eyes on the worn caravan, but found them drifting to the sharp tongued general as he spoke to the caravan driver.

"Worm," the word remained in Bailian's head. Seeing how the General treated the others as well left a rancid taste in his mouth, as if vomit sat, burning his cheeks and tongue. Before this expidition was over the general would find the end of his life on Bailians dagger.

The cheering crowd drew Bailian's attention to them. Heroes? Yes, he was hearing them correctly. This could work in their favor. If the town's people believed them to be heroes, then it would be easier to convince them that following the King was in their best interest. Bloodshed could be avoided in this city.

People began to crowd around. This always made Bailian uneasy when people did this, unless he was blending into a crowd. There were too many factors, theives, being cuaght of guard, which was hard with the intense training his guild went through, but with a crowd this size could be difficult.

"I need to have a word with them. Move." The crowd began to disapate, drawing the attention to a giant. He was offering the general food and a place to stay. Bailians grip tightened on his reigns. Something was amiss. Never before had he seen a giant that didn't try to kill a human. In any other circumstance, he would have turned down the offer. It was stupid to be following the monster into such an iminant trap. However, he would be of more use to the group, if the giant was indeed trying to trick them, if he kept a watch over the group.

Bailian stayed behind the group, his mind never stopping it's calculations.

((I have godmodded, you're all inside. Feel free to mention just where your steed went. Post.))

'Why are we being cheered as heroes?' Where is he, anyhow... I'd like to ask myself that question, too. The mercenary's question had gone unanswered due to the suprise this mind reader brought to her. Jessica was apparently leading them after the giant, who nodded vaguely at those his eyes met along the way. Children, men, women, of all colors, shapes and sizes. They all seemed peaceful, not to mention cheery when having eye contact. For slaves, they were too loyal. For prisoners, too free. For family, too odd.

"Please, make your--"

"Gah! T-The painting... On the wall, d-did it just move, sir?

"As I said. Please make yourselves at home in the dining room, I'll be joining you in a few minutes; the servants must be gathered to prepare your rooms first."

A myriad of catchy sounds, like those from a wind chime were left on his path along the first floor and up a set of stairs. Meanwhile, the mercenaries found themselves just outside a single, grand room. Decorated with chandeliers at the top, fancy wood at the surruondings and large, nearly room-sized windows at several points. One would expect to sleep in a tent, inside a caravan, or an inn at the very best; luck shone upon them tonight. Jessica looked back for comfort, none was found.

"Nothing to it, right?"

She smiled, in a fake and bizarre manner to try and ease her own comrades. A few cautious steps in, one of the three servants inside directed her to a chair in the long, white table. Alfonse soon followed, nodding off the offer of a chair on the opposite side of the tactician.

"So, Jessica? Are you convinced we're going to die yet?"

"Then I'd best die with my stomach full.

It was a wonderful smell that caused her to speak so loosely: spices, chicken, beef, bread, herbs; it was virtually anything they could ask for as of now, and all because they were 'heroes.' Whatever that may have been about, they may not know in this life, most likely.

"Dinner will be served in five minutes, Master has sent note down here. Please, take a seat."

After seeing their distrust, it was only expected they'd let everyone else seat themselves, as the servant had spoken gently from the door to the outside.

Vincent averted his gaze away from the bustling crowd as they began to scuffle back towards the city, leaving the very robust man standing before them. His voice was just as unnerving as his size, sending a feeling of ill intent throughout VIncent's mind. Caution had been taken to the fullest extent as he readied himself to utter an incantation at the slightest whim of aggression. "Children... I'd been waiting for you." Children? Who did this man think he was speaking to? Elder or not, Vincent grasped an air of arrogance from the man's words as he continued to speak. As talk of spending the night in this man's abode came about, Vincent instantly thought that this was nothing but a trap.

"Jessica, this man doesn't seem trustworthy! Just look at him!" Alfonse's words seemed more than true, but to Vincent's dismay it seemed as if the tactician had been wooed, or intimidated, into taking up the offer. Before Vincent could voice his opinion of the matter he was approached by a robed figure. Words were not uttered, but a hand gesture implied that they wanted him to dismount his horse. Whether or not their hoods covered their eyes to see it, Vincent's own eyes glowed with a deep red flame within them as he simply shook his head. "I'll take care of myself." he said sternly. They didn't bother to argue, and moved on to the next mercenary. Once the figures had escaped from Vincent's sight, he dismounted his steed and gripped the reigns tightly as the group started to move forward into the town.

Upon arriving at the man's housing, Vincent took notice of the rather regal appearance. His wealth was obvious but his intentions were veiled completely. Though still on guard, Vincent chose to leave his horse tied up outside. Hopefully he would not be without it due to thievery, but the steed knew very well how to act towards an unfamiliar rider. Run or die. As Vincent continued to follow the group, his eyes wandered to the surrounding people that inhabited the place. Brief glances were directed at him, but quickly dismissed due to his returning glare. "This is far too risky. What is she doing? He thought to himself, as they arrived at what seemed to be a grand dining hall. The aromas lulled Vincent into the memories of his home, where large feasts were held after ceremonies.

Following Alfonse, Vincent took up a seat next to him, eyes focused on the tactician who sat on the opposing side. He wanted her attention, but once again Alfonse had uttered a question that he was going to ask. The tactician's response pulled a slight smirk across Vincent's face, but it soon faded as his eyes surveyed his surroundings. Whatever these people prepared to bring forth would be a waste if placed in front of him. "I refuse to fall victim to a viper's meal." Vincent mumbled.

((I will be leaving for Jamaica on a mission trip Wednesday. I will be gone until Sunday, but will try and keep up on my crackberry....If I can get a connection.))

Dismounting and leaving Alucard outside, Bailian entered the great hall and took in all of his suroundings. The long table was centered in the huge room. Servents busled about bringing food and wine. If this were a trap, this would be one that Bailian would not fall for. It was the oldest way of drugging or poisoining someone. He had methods of testing the food, but there was always a new drug. He decided not to chance it.

Windows sat high on the walls. They could be a great escape, but would require a climb. That may not be a problem for him, but may be a problem for some of the others. There were two other sets of doors besides the onse they had just entered. One obviously leading to the kitchen, the other one no doubtedly leading deeper into this beasts dwelling. The doors behind them were being shut. This situation was not boding well in Bailian's gut.

Everyone in the party sat as the food was being brought out. Bailian, refusing to sit, found himself a place in the corner, near the doors they had entered. With his back towards the wall he would not have to worry about anyone sneaking up on him. He pulled out some bread from his pouch, and began to eat it, keeping a watchful eye on the others.