The Garden

Charmeine looked to the taller male, her eyes softening with gratitude as he removed his cloak from his back. She caught the material before it grazed the forest floor, though given what it was intended to become, it wouldn't much matter if it did. The whitette folded the cloak around her arm before scavenging for another spare branch. Although she had to wander from the group, she managed to pull one free from a thicket. After twisting off the spare twigs sprouting out of the dead wood, she returned and plop it down at her feet. Charmeine unraveled and snapped the robed until it fell flat. Shortly after securing the branch in the robe, the angel stepped back and admired her work. Needless to say, she was pleased with herself.

Now the hard part. The Seraph looked to River's limp body, her eyes frowning in disapproval. She couldn't afford to touch him. She was lucky to have her slime friend around last time things went wrong. Needless to say, however, The situation at hand was slightly different. Charmeine circled his body, a defeated sigh escaping her mouth. She bundled her hands with the robe meant for Kira. She pulled River's weight onto the newfound 'bed' by his biceps, crossing them over his chest before jerking away. After laying the robe against the floor once more, she examined her hands. Tingling infested her fingertips, as if her body grew confused by how she managed to avoid direct contact. Other than her nerves playing tricks, she would be okay.

It would of been much easier to ask someone else from the group to move him. However, she couldn't afford to show more vulnerability. She straightened her shoulders, turning to Volga. She was torn to shreds. Somehow she kept upright. Although admirable in some respects, this constant image of strength would only ware at her body until she gave out completely. Charmeine gestured underneath a spare tree. "Lay her down and take a seat. I'll see what the damage is and do what I can for you." She suggested. Though, what could she do other than a diagnoses? She had a few tricks up her sleeve to numb the pain, but to heal? Of course, Charmeine had no knowledge of Rosa scouting out herbs and other plants packed with healing nutrients.

Al

Though his eyes were closed he resisted the urge to doze.

The ripples of pain in his body which came with every breath also helped. He was in rough shape. Most of the damage he sustained in the fight was simple enough to heal from. The blast he received gave him a hard knock, cracking a rib among other things. The worst of the damage however was from the pins. It was never comfortable getting sharp bits of metal stabbed through him and a lot of pins went through him too.

Within a couple minutes the holes were closed. The tissue within his body was the first to heal, sealing up the veins and arteries to there was no internal bleeding. Now his skin was closed, keeping him from losing more blood. He'd of loved little more than to rest for longer but he could hear the others talking and knew he couldn't stay for long.


He looked over and saw them still tending to the unconscious members of their little group. He figured he should be doing something as well though he was reluctant to go over to the group. They were content managing their own affairs. He instead turned to look back at his card. It held and arrow pointing a certain direction, complimented with a number though it held little meaning given that he wasn't given a specific unit of measurement.

A slight grunt of pain escaped his lips as he struggled up to his feet. He was well weary and plenty injured still but he could at least walk now, something that was far more difficult not long ago. He put one foot forward, then the next. A wave of pain coursed through his chest with every step, the crack in one of his ribs still plying him with fair amounts of pain. At least his healing essence dulled the pain of his wounds overall so it was less severe than it would have been for a conventional human.

He continued forth despite it, walking into the woods in the direction of the arrow. He figured it would be best to get a lay of the route to whatever it was the arrow was leading them towards. If there were any dangers along the way better he spot it before the others are drawn into unseen dangers. They had two members out and if a fight broke out suddenly those two would be sitting ducks for whatever might beset them.


He didn't much care for any one of them as people but he wasn't about to let someone who helped pull the group's collective hides out of the fire just get munched on by whatever twisted bizarre entities roam this land. He was braced to encounter something he was sure was going to be something he doesn't expect.

Volga was still trying to walk back when Charmeine took Kira from her. "But..." She mumbled in a dazed protest as she followed the angel girl. With her momentum faltered and her objective obscured, all she could do was sit and watch Charmeine build her stretcher as she fought her exhaustion. She sat there fighting sleep like a cat on a computer desk as she muttered on incoherently about something to do with crows. The others were either recuperating or helping and all she could do was fight sleep. She didn't want to be carried out and she wasn't sure anyone around her could easily do so. She refused to burden her comrades in her mind but her body betrayed her. She muttered something else and fell onto her side next to Kira with a hard thud. Sleep took her then despite all of her protest and resolve.

Rosa disappeared into the woods for several minutes, then she returned with a mouthful of herbs and a canteen on her neck. The water carrier was full too, and bumped about her chest as she moved. It wasn't the most comfortable arrangement, but it was the best she could do without thumbs.

When she arrived back at their temporary camp, she found River and Kira settled into their traveling cots. Charmeine sat next to Volga who was also laying on the ground. This wasn't good. They weren't out of the woods yet, and that big oaf was too heavy for anyone else to carry. She cursed under her breath, but she didn't do anything about it yet. She had more important things to do. She padded over near both traveling cots, sat down, and spread her bounty out before her. She found five different useful herbs and a number of broad flat leaves, she had another purpose for. The water she just slipped off her neck beside everything.

Kira and Volga seemed worse for wear than River, despite being unconscious, so she started with them. The canteen opened pretty easily with her teeth, so she used it to wash out the worst injuries on the two of them. Of course she held some back, because she knew she would probably need it to help others. She used a little more of that precious water to make poultices for both Kira's hands. She shredded a portion of two of her herbs with her claws, mixed them with water, and wrapped them in two broad leaves very carefully. Dirt mustn't get inside. Rosa did this twice, one for each hand, and then wrapped more leaves covered with a sticky paste around the two smaller poultices to keep them still and then moved the pasty leaves further up Kira's burned arms until they were completely covered.

The bleeding of her other wound seemed to have stopped, but that didn't mean it was healed. She checked to make sure there was nothing inside the wound, and cleaned it out again with an astringent and disinfectant herb that may sting a little if Kira was still conscious to feel it. She put one more bandage over that particular wound to keep anything from getting inside and to prevent it from bleeding out.

Volga's injuries were a little outside of her present supply, so she only treated the worst of them, and left the mild scrapes and scratches alone except to keep them from getting infected. She also tended the bruises and burns on her face to make sure nothing would interfere with her breathing. A single poultice on Volga's possibly broken nose finished her treatment. Comfrey helps bones heal faster and smells like cucumber, so at worst Volga will be smelling like cucumbers for the rest of the trip back to their home camp.

Finally came River. As she noticed earlier, he seemed to be in better shape than the ladies. She checked him to make sure and then located his torn ankle. The cat grimaced but she went to work on that. She prayed to help his tendons heal correctly, because she didn't want him to be permanently crippled if the tendons didn't knit back together properly. She wrapped his ankles with more of her pasty poultices to speed the healing and repair process.

As she was doing all this her own exhaustion started catching up with her but she shook it off, picked up the water bottle on her neck again, and sought out the rest of the party before attempting to wake Volga. She wanted to make sure all injuries were tended before leaving.

Ivan could only watch as Charmeine made the cradles and loaded the two incapacitated party members into them. A somber mood besetting him at the sight of the mighty barbarian warrior looking lost, dazed and quite honestly looking like they had lost the battle. She was battling to remain conscious that much was obvious to him, but it still came as a surprise when it became apparent that no amount of fighting could keep that battered body from giving in to the fatigue.

From the corner of his eye he noticed Allen almost looking like before they had split up walking into the forests beyond. For a moment forgetting that his left side is paralyzed he fell back down when trying to get up, by the time crawled up from his laying position Allen had disappeared from sight. Ivan sighed in defeat, as Rosa came back to the party with a supply of what he could only assume were medicinal plants. Even the feline was more useful than the grand magician in this situation, he couldn't even prevent one of the others from running headlong into danger.

As the feline went on to treat the two who were in the worst shape of the group he looked at the lazul card to see if perhaps this had anything to do with Allen behavior. It read 'door located' and showed an arrow pointing like a kompas into the forests Allen had disappeared into, with a number. Whatever this number meant was linked to the door, most logically it would be a distance, but without unit and within this worlds logic it wouldn't be unlikely it had some other meaning he couldn't determine. At the very least it gave them a direction to go, if for no other reason to find Allen and this door.

As the feline wrapped up the treatment and appeared to look for other injuries to treat Ivan took a moment to make sure his minor wounds were covered by his garments. He couldn't burden her with treating such minor injuries when she's likely also overburdening herself to do so. He thanked the gods for the fact that his head injury hadn't been sustained earlier in the fight and he'd been able to stop the bleeding before it had a chance to become visible through his hair. Just to be certain he briefly engulfed himself in lime green light giving most of his injuries a boost to their initial healing, however in that moment he felt like an anemic, losing sight once more and lightheadedness combined with headache besetting him once more. It cleared up the right away afterwards, but it was a clear sign that he couldn't afford to use any of the other blessings or he'd risk being put into the same state as the three unconscious party members they'd already have to contend with.

---

River's dreams were rocked with nightmares. Visions of fire and steel clashing with ice, white hair and red lips, a mass of graves to the fallen. The dream ended with him awakening, and his body surged with a well of frost prepared to continue the fight before he noticed the greenery above his head and relaxed. He felt something wet on his cheek and wiped away the tear that had formed.

Dreams never lead to good things. He could feel his wounds and grunted in annoyance, shifting to look at himself and noticing the work done by Rosa. The treatment would make his recovery much faster, and with his powers active with his consciousness all his wounds except for the large chunks taken out of his feet would seal themselves closed over a few seconds. His feet would require some more doing.

He looked to the group and saw their exhaustion and their injuries, even the cat and the angel tending to the others were looking ready to hit the dirt if they had to do much more. Kira was out cold next to him, her arms wrecked by her own doing. He lacked the option to be conservative.

He tapped his chest and the violet pyramid floated out, covered in chips and cracks, along with it came two blue spheres which attached themselves and dissolved into a glue to fill the damage. His tendons began to slowly knit themselves together in strings of blood and flesh in response.

Sitting for a moment he tried to think of what to say, but he wasn't sure anything that came out of his mouth would have any meaning.

He took a deep breath and started the best he could. "I'm glad everyone's alive, there's nothing I can say to justify the danger I put you in. I made a foolish mistake when I entered the zone, I sensed a Named One and panicked and immediately confronted him in order to protect you, and I lost. I should have had more faith in your power. I'm sorry, and thank you." He apologised.

"I can handle Volga, the way home and our destination is just ahead whenever you've gathered enough strength." He added after a few awkward seconds.

---

After some time trudging through the forest, Allan would slowly feel the shift in the air as things started to cool down. Frost began to coat the grass, and over time that frost would extend to the trees and their trunks. Then the weather began to even out again and heat up, yellowed grass paving the way. Finally they reached equilibrium and the weather returned to normal, the forest giving way to their destination.

In a swath of blues and whites, reds and blacks, a battlefield frozen in time sat in the unnatural clearing beyond.

Two armies clashed in silence, their weapons frozen mid-swing. The ground was divided into threes, on the left was a wasteland of ice and frozen ground, to the right a blackened field of ash ribboned with molten steel, and in the middle was a corridor of untouched dirt. An army of ice statues shaped to look like people collided with a similar army made of a myriad of metals. Both armies were filled with strange characters, no two the same. Amongst them were familiar faces, Dominic, Lazarus, Blitz, Luka, but they were few amongst the many unfamiliar warriors.

Contradictive fireballs of ice still swirled in their barrage yet refusing to move forward, accompanied by clones of many other spells and long-ranged attacks such as arrows and lightning bolts. The other side held much the same, although items such as arrows and bullets were instead found littered across the battleground.

On both sides many of the statues and barricades were shattered or damaged by all sorts of sources, suggesting whatever occurred here had lasted a long time before reaching this frozen state. Spires of ice and medieval towers of metal rose on either side, many of which now contained some form of prayer or rune written on their surface. Above a purplish red sun presided over the battlefield. The scale of the field on either side made it seem as if two cities had gone to war.

In the midst of the clashing warriors sat a wooden door, written atop it read "Property of Pravus".

---

Al

As he staggered on into the woods, slowly making his way through, the environment seemed to behave rather oddly. At first it was strangely cold, giving his breath a bit of mist as he trucked on. As he continued the land changed, starting to get warmer and warmer as he progressed. Soon both temperatures met in equilibrium and he emerged to the sight of an old battlefield, grand in it's scale.

To the left of him was a barren tundra littered with spires of ice. On the right were the volcanic fields of ash dotted with composite metal towers. In the center these two elements seemed to have collided some time ago, the results appearing to be what remains of a draw as neither side seemed to had overtaken the other.


Al looked at this scene with some trepidation. It certainly looked as though a fair amount of magic was at work given just how thoroughly sculpted this strange duality was. The center was a grey and barren land, neither hot nor cold as it laid unclaimed by either force. Perhaps against his better judgement he continued down this grey line, wary of disrupting the statues that lingered.

Though he was not the best at remembering names he could recognize a couple of the statues he passed by. He did a slight double-take, not expecting to see these figures among the many strange entities left still in this part of the land. What on earth could of happened to erect statues of these people? Strange magic, that.


He was freed from his thoughts at the sight of a door. The door the card was apparently pointing to it seemed as Al checked, watching the arrow shift to point at the door no matter how he angled it. Atop the door it read "Property of Pravus." Or at least that was what the card translated the words to mean as the message was written in a foreign language. As he approached he just sort of came to a stop.

"I should probably wait for the others first..." He muttered to himself, uncertain of his destination. This entire place was suspect and the mysterious door was not lending him any manner of comfort. He stood still for some time, still questioning his predicament until he finally settled on a decision.


"Ah hell, a bunch of unconscious folk aren't going to be of much help. Might as well bite the bullet." He muttered, setting forward towards the door. He gave it a hardy knock, well, as hard a knock as a half dead guy could give.

"Oi! Hello!? I got a card here that says this is the way out." He shouted at the door, expecting some form of answer. What answered him was only silence.

"Aw hell, don't tell me I've got the luck to show up when nobodies home." He grumbled, turning and starting to walk away he saw a shadow in his path. The shadow quickly grew larger until...



A large figure impacted the ground, shaking the earth beneath his feet and causing Al to stumble a bit. This guy stood as easily twice as tall as him, clad in a strange silver looking cloak which seemed to almost constantly be cascading. His face was covered in a grey plague doctors mask with strange glowing arcane symbols engraved onto the lenses. The hat seemed to be wrought of a similar fabric as the mask was, looking rather beat up and tattered to boot. His strange green leather glove gripped a large intimidating weapon which most closely resembled a sort of spear.

It had a long nearly pitch black shaft, the fabric of the grip surface making everything else seem brighter by contrast. The neck of the spear was a pale golden metal ornately shaped into the head of a dragon. From it's mouth jutted a strange white crystal, the contents seemingly shifting within but only when not directly observed. The crystal was cut so that it formed the blade of the spear, it's edge sharper than glass and harder than any terrestrially known materials. The bottom of the spear was finely crafted into the shape of a dragon's tail, still sharp enough to drive into an opponent with relative ease.

Along his back, held in place with a mechanical clamp fixed to the back of his cloak, was an ancient shovel forged from an unknown design. It certainly looked it's age, bearing marks of it's ceaseless use. Even still the edges were kept sharp and it looked no less sturdy despite the scratches and small dents.


Al looked up at the stranger who in turn looked down at him. His face was set in a concentrated frown, looking straight into the lenses of the ominous mask without fear. The hollow darkness behind the lenses seemed to peer right through Al, staring into his very soul like the abyss itself. He stood strong, stomaching his pain and pushing it aside so he could stand tall before this mysterious being. The only part of the mysterious man's body that was bent forward in even the slightest manner was the front of his mask, looking down at him all the same. As they stared at each other it was almost as though they held an unspoken conversation, their words clear only in their eyes.

Then simultaneously they both spoke, uttering the same sentiment they held for one another as though they were speaking with one voice.



The sound of their voices echoed across the battlefield, the only sound that could be heard for miles. Such was the oppressive silence that gripped this slice of land.

As if willed by it's owner the door swung out, smacking Al aside as the beaked figure walked in. As he hit the ground, a cloud of dust billowing up into his face, he could hear the door slamming shut, issuing a deep wooden resonance.

Al pushed himself up from the ground, coughing and brushing the dust off from his body. "Bloody hell." He swore, standing up on tired knees and rubbing the arm that was hit by the door. He shuffled his way over and sat down near a statue. He was careful not to touch it as he held some concern that if the magic that made these statues still remained then touching one might transform him into one of them, trapping him here forever like the rest.

He just sat, looking down as he awaited the arrival of the group while his body slowly mended itself. It wasn't slow compared to humans but it wasn't a grand prix race car speed either.

Ivan watched with a piqued curiosity as he saw River using some form of arcane arts to fill in the damages, whether it was a true form of healing or not he could not tell. What was sure though was that such a power would have been quite appreciated by the other two River had been sleeping near.

River apologized for his foolishness and folly it truly was. "You must have been aware of the difference in power between you and that lord. While I won't deny the valor in your willingness to face a foe that much more powerful to keep others out of harms way, I can't deny the foolishness either. I doubt you had any illusions about being able to beat him, yet you confronted him, alone. We relied on you to guide us through this world, had that lord killed you as he certainly could have, we'd been lost and been none the safer from that lord. So how about we don't throw ourselves headlong into danger when there is no need to do so?" Ivan reasoned to River. He'd seen too many die from the same folly, exposing themselves to danger unneeded by entering the undead infested city for whatever reasons they may have had, and it never sat well with him that so many had died doing something pointless.

Using his functional arm he then stood up and dusted off his robe. "I'm ready to move whenever you all are. Though I think we shouldn't wait too long, just in case Allen has found himself another predicament." He said to the rest of the group.

Rosa startled to hear River's voice. She paused what she was doing and turned back to look at him. He tried to take on a lord, a Named lord on his own? Great, now she knows that gaucho loco has a Name which makes him more powerful than Nameless lords. She didn't take that information as easily as the human magician. "Idiot," she hissed and lifted a paw to smack his head. Neither did she feel the least guilty about it. "A hundred years and you're still brash as a kit." She could have said more, but the human magician also brought to her attention that the grumpy human could be in the same position. "Oh great! Another idiot on the loose."

She looked around, gauging the situation. Even if he was awake, River definitely can't walk; Kira and Volga were still unconscious. The magician was standing but not very steady. One of his arms was limp, and she wasn't sure of the strength in the same side leg. Did he break something? She could try to set the bones, but her way of doing it would be just as painful as the original injury. She still had some comfrey left. What about Allan though? Last time she saw him, he was a bloody mess. How could he have stood up and walked away though?

Only Rosa herself and Charmeine were still in what could be called good shape, and at least one of them had to stay with the injured to protect them. Charmeine had a greater range than she did in a fight. She still didn't like the bird, but she needed to trust the truth. "River, Charmeine, and Ivan stay here. Healthy people need to protect the sick ones." She expected River to understand her, but growled at the other two before leaving to chase after the grouch. "I'm going to look for him."

She picked up her remaining herbs and bandage leaves and started into the forest, slowly at first, until she identified Allan's trail, then she moved more quickly to follow it. Unfortunately, it took her through more cold and fire. Why is there so much fire in this place? She shuddered and strained until she came out into somewhat normal weather.

The cat stopped there and saw a strip of dirt dividing a field in two. On one side was scorched earth of fire and the other absolutely covered in that cold white stuff that Volga used in their battle. Standing in the midst of this strange sight were people, creatures. Some were familiar, which gave her another shock. "What happened here?" she yowled even if no one could hear her. She approached the divided land but she didn't want to go into it.

She stopped again when she finally saw something that was not cold and white, scorched, or shiny and hard. Allan! She found the grumpy human. How did he get so far with the extent of his injuries? She looked back on the trail behind her and saw none of the others. Then she turned back to Allan's still form. He also looked better than she thought he would. Last she saw him he was covered in blood, and still bleeding. Now, well he still was covered in blood, but his wounds were certainly not as bad as all the blood could account for right now. Still she needed to make sure he really was okay.

Charmeine watched the feline work with a quiet stare. The group members were healed one by one, except for the Angel herself. The whitette scowled, pressing her back against a tree and crossing her arms. She was near the end of her rope. Rosa didn't 'forget'. She did it on purpose. She didn't want to waste her precious herbs on someone she found repulsive. The angel took a seat and used the skirt of her dress to clean herself. She scrubbed through the layers of caked ash and mud. Aside from a nasty bruise and a few scrapes, she was fine.

The group was met with another face at last. River had finally came too. A spark awoken within the Angel. It was all piling up. The lack of cleanliness, the aggravation of healing someone whom died anyhow, the fear of not making it out, and now the lack of treatment from the damn cat? Charmeine got to her feet once more and cracked her neck, the shade of her eyes seemingly having duel identities as both a calm lake and a shard of glass.

"... You apologize? Hah, you apologize?" A quivering grin tugged at the corners of her mouth, though it was anything but happy. "Hah! Y-You have the audacity to look us in the eyes and apologize for this shit?!" She gestured her arms violently behind her, gradually approaching River and straightening her shoulders. "We could of died. We almost did. And you want to say you're glad everyone is alright?! The only reason Volga and Kira aren't groaning in agony is because they're passed out, Ivan is screwed up, Allen is-- is-- goodness knows where, and now the dumb cat has taken charge!! Why?! Because YOU obviously couldn't lead us!!"

Charmeine raised her arms to shove him back, but only clenched her fists. If she touched him, then she would be in big trouble. "Do you know the chances of running into one of those?! A hundred to one-- no -- a THOUSAND to one! That's all you demons do, bring about bad luck! And you still want to take us further, even with two unconscious in mind? Please." She stepped back and looked him over. "I've had enough adventure for now. I'm staying here, as I was suggested to do. When you come back, IF you do, then you take us straight home. Or whatever we called the damn place we crawled out of."

The seraph flipped her hair over her shoulder, pressing a hand to her chest. She could feel it rising and falling in rhythm with her heart beat. She was ready to rip his head off. However, she left her speech at that. She had nothing else to say to him.

Allan

For some time he did sit. Nothing much happened. He recovered a bit. While the more significant wounds took longer to heal basically all the bruises, scuffs and minor cuts he had sustained were gone. His rib's cracks were taking a little longer to mend and the many holes were now the few holes, small ones at that.

He saw the cat approach. Rosa, he recalled, was her name. She was alone. It wasn't bad, it wasn't good. It would of been annoying to of come this way to make sure everything was clear only for them to drag their helpless selves into potential danger but it would of also saved time. As it was he was going to have to walk back there and back again to where he sat.

Seeing little need in laying about any more he pushed himself up from the ground. Pain shot through his body as he forced himself from the floor but luckily a nice benefit to his power was that it dulled his sense of pain a fair deal. The more energy he had the less his wounds hurt and the faster he healed them.


With a wince he was on his feet and starting to walk away from the door.

"I'm going to get the others. Don't touch that door until we get here." He warned her, walking a bit hunched over from the pain as he passed her. He had no idea what was up with the masked man but he didn't like him. He figured if River woke up any time soon he could squeeze some answers from him since answering questions seemed to be all he was good for to Al.

Just like that Al was on his way back to the main camp where he first left to find this strange battlefield frozen in time. It was going to be an easier trip since he wasn't hurting quite as bad as he did when he left.

Rosa started setting up her supplies again when grumpy Allan pulled himself to his feet. She paused to watch him. He stood with effort, wincing at the motion. Wait a minute! She stood up herself, since she sat on her haunches to sort the supplies. He started walking back to the camp, or at least back the way she just came. She started to follow, but stopped to retrieve her precious herbs. She was already uncomfortable with this eerie sculpture garden and weird door in the middle. Losing her supplies to whatever unholy magic contributed to this unpleasant scene would be another disaster in her eyes.

She made noise to call him back, but he only turned to tell her not to touch the door. The cat huffed and shook her large spotted body. Like she would! She hadn't even touched that strip of dirt in the middle yet, and had no wish to move any closer than she already was. This place gave her the creeps, just as much as the dead city. If she managed to map any of this crazy Garden, she'd name this section Nightmare Forest. Dead cities and statues of frozen or scorched humans and other creatures. Nothing says nightmares more than that in her opinion.

---

The demon could not hope to argue with the angry seraphette or disagree with Ivan's words, he could only hope to fix his mistakes.

Although a little explanation couldn't hurt.

"Truthfully, I had no intention of participating in that game, only when I sensed Henry did I find myself stepping into the fray. I defeated him in the last cycle and was foolish enough to think it would be so simple this time. It's as you say, we demons trail bad luck wherever we go, it's just usually more self-contained. Had he moved to harm you I can at least say I wouldn't have allowed it, regardless of cost." He said, taking a moment to observe his knitting wounds.

The uncomfortable pain of each cell repairing itself was like a million little fires filling his open wound, snapping and boiling his muscles and blood. It had been a great many hundred years, but the sensation never got any more pleasant.

"I'll carry the injured whenever Allan or Rosa return, they should have found the door by now, and I'm tracking their life force if anything goes wrong." He added, sinking into resting on his palms.

All that was left was to wait for the pair to return, he just hoped Pravus was in an amicable mood. The Gravedigger was rarely in the mood for surprise and unknown visitors.

Vicious words like the poison of vipers spewed from the mouth of the Seraph, who in a most twistedly lost her temper. The thought of defending the demon had crossed his mind, but Ivan felt no intention of doing so as Charmeine had only been spewing an untempered version of his own thoughts. Though the insults based on the demons heritage was perhaps uncalled for.

The demon then mentioned having a history of sorts with the lord that had been hosting that game and mentioned that he was tracking Rosa and Allan via their life force. "It would seem both of them are moving towards us, if we are going to wait until they return would you mind telling us what you know about this Henry? I have a feeling this isn't the last time we'll be hearing from him and I'd prefer having some knowledge of what we'll be dealing with." He asked the demon, hoping it would at least give them a more even playing field the next time they'd meet.

He then closed his eyes and focused on the three crystals he had tagged the legion members with. It appeared they too had been able to escape from the collapsing game world. They were too far away and there wasn't enough of the crystals left to send a explanatory message even if the three were to by chance get close enough to one another. Expending all the energy left in the crystals the words "Meet Vinn" were passed on through the crystals. All he could do at this point was hope they had heard it and could actually figure out what was meant with it. Moments later he opened his eyes again feeling some unease knowing that the odds were against him actually being able to help any of them.

Rosa wasn't keen on going back through magical weather anomalies, but neither was she keen on staying on the edge of some sick sculpture garden. Also because Allan was an idiot, she felt a need to look after him. He was planning on returning to the camp, so someone would need to carry those travel cots. He was in no condition to, and as a 'mere human' in her opinion, he wouldn't be strong enough, even if he never was injured.

She still can't comprehend how was able to get up and walk this far or what was going on with his wounds disappearing. Was he another damn magician? She never noted any magical power with him, but he also kept away from everyone else at the camp, so she never had a chance to test it, neither did she really want to. Damn magic! Somehow that damned magic brought her here without killing her though. She also needed to do something related to this magic herself. Why her? She ruminated over the strange cold shard in her room and this more recent acquisition of a strange paper scrap.

Her fur twitched and she sneezed. A picture of the annoying furball popped in her head, and she looked over her shoulder. Was someone or something watching her? Whatever it was, it felt different then the presence she identified as her Mother, colder. She stepped behind Allan and shook again. Death sweeps in with silent steps. Death? Where did that come from? Was someone dying?

Al

He continued on his way back, looking back on frequent occasion at the cat woman who was still following him. He was rarely ever comfortable with having anybody at his back. This was no exception.

When he returned he saw that their tour guide had woken up, less worse for wear than he expected. His scowling face panned as he scanned over the breadth of the camp, looking at who was able to move and who wasn't. During his walk back he had recovered enough that most of his wounds were mostly healed. Even with the divine power coursing through the injuries they still hurt but the pain didn't distract him too badly.


"Looks like the idiot's up. One less body to carry then."

He grumbled, walking until he was pretty much in the middle of them. Volga was out, Kira was out and the mage looked lamed. Out of the three of them Volga seemed the heaviest given she wasn't a pint sized elf or a scrawny mage. The only two around who seemed up and able to carry the others were the angel and River. It would be unfair to make either of them carry the heaviest since he was sufficiently strong enough to lift Volga up anyways.

Seeing little need to argue the matter he simply reached down, grabbed the viking around the waist and hoisted her up onto his shoulder like a limp doll. Once on his shoulder he was about to turn on start on his way back to the door but he noticed his shoulder was well set in her stomach, making her breathing more difficult. It was more troublesome but he wasn't doing this for his own comfort. Instead he slid her from his shoulder and into his arms, supporting her underneath the thighs and back as he carried her bridal style. It was the most comfortable way to be carried, at least while unconscious anyways.


She wasn't very heavy to him, not a terrible surprise since he's strong enough to run through brick walls and stop speeding trucks with his body alone. On the other hand he was very weak just coming from a long brawl with an armored ogre of a man and she was resting against a fairly sore spot on his rib cage, the remains of the cracked rib he sustained during the fight. His arms were still sore from the exertion but he wasn't going to let that keep him from doing what needed to be done.

"Hey River, don't wander off this time. We need you to tell us how to get past the crow lookin' guy."

He informed their guide as he started on his way out, expecting the others to follow with the rest of the group in tow.

Volga was mostly muscle and therefore weighed more than she looked to but was nothing compared to a brick wall or moving truck. The real problem was all of her long tangled hair getting everywhere in a particularly obnoxious manner. It was difficult​to imagine how she dealt with it until one noticed the many braids and clumps suggesting that she often simply neglected to. While her bruised battered and scraped body was of little notice to her in resting state, her burns weren't and she would wince and groan in her sleep at the lightest contact with them. Although all of these things were inconvenient, none of them were as concerning as the fact that her sword simply picked itself up and floated beside her as she was carried. It would even turn its flat to her every few paces as if to regularly check on her.

Rosa gaped as Allan picked up Volga. Not only was he a wimpy human, but Volga was taller than him, and thus must be heavier. Most humans struggle to even bear their own weight. Was he really human? If he isn't human, what the heck is he? More blasted mysteries!

She shivered at the sight of the floating sword, remembering the tormenting cold that came from it. Apparently the weapon is magic, and not necessarily its wielder. It didn't matter anyway. All kinds of magic make her ill. Besides, there were more important things to do.

She shook her head, and dropped her herbs next to River. "Hold this for me, please," she mewed politely in contrast to her former behavior of bopping his head. She also looked him over while she was there, and noted his wounded feet were healing nicely. She didn't expect any less, but snorted as she caught scent of magic. She knew it would take some time for him to heal with just the herbs, and they might not have that time to spare, but such practical thoughts didn't change her feelings. It may not make sense, but she didn't think he trusted her, and that was bothersome.

She never grew up surrounded by magic or magic users; therefore her hunting and woodcraft were all she had to survive on various adventures. In those things, she was most confident in her skill. She chose to forget or simply ignore certain foolishness of her youth. River's own foolishness regarding that cowboy was remarkably similar, but she wouldn't tell him that. "Can you walk?" she asked the Neko coolly, not hiding those bothersome thoughts very well.

While she waited for his answer, she went to Kira's cot. She bit one corner, without tearing it, and shifted both the cot and her feline body in sync to get the cumbersome object over her shoulders.

(post rewrite)

Rosa gaped as Allan picked up Volga. Not only was he a wimpy human, but Volga was taller than him, and thus must be heavier. Most humans struggle to even bear their own weight. Was he really human? If he isn't human, what the heck is he? More blasted mysteries!

That darn sword was just as uncomfortable and confusing to see. By some other strange magic it acted like it was alive, but because its wielder was unconscious, she could think of no other source of the strange magic but the tool itself. Even though she was allergic to magic, some of her kin weren't and they knew that it needed some kind of source.

Now wasn't the time for speculation. She shook her head, and dropped her herbs next to River. "Hold this for me, please," she mewed politely in contrast to her former behavior of bopping his head. She also looked him over while she was there, and noted his wounded feet were healing nicely. She didn't expect any less, but snorted as she caught scent of magic. Her fur bristled over the thought of him not trusting her skill, but it still wasn't the time. They would have words after they were done here, though.

She stepped next to Kira's cot and grasped the near edge of it in her teeth. Then she sidestepped underneath and rested the end on her opposite shoulder. The weight of the cot with the body on it felt uncomfortably like a harness. She was not a beast of burden! She only did this because there was no other choice. Because she was unused to carrying something like this, forward progress was slow and awkward, and she kept looking over her shoulders to make sure Kira hadn't shifted in a way that could harm her.

Al

Carrying the viking was rather annoying since her hair was a constant nuisance however he pressed on all the same. He'd occasionally need to spit out stray strands of hair if they blew into his face and namely his mouth. Though he was still injured from his fight he turned his healing to the fighter in his arms. The pleasant light dulled the pain and began to heal her as they continued on. Given her injuries it was to be about half and hour or less to see her along to perfect health.

He looked over as he forged onward to see the sword hovering along next to him. It moved, turning as if it were watching them as he went.

"What the hell?"


He questioned, asking no one really. It was more a fact that he was wondering to himself just how on earth he got stuck with some of the weirder lot. He never much cared for the company of the supernatural. It always seemed to find him, no matter how he tried to keep from it. In fact back on earth the more he tried to keep his hands clean of the matter the messier the whole ordeal got, dragging friends and even family into the mix. At least he didn't have to worry about either of those bunches now since he was worlds, heck, even universes apart from them. So far removed and yet here he was back in the same old business. It was all different of course but beneath the alien veneer it wasn't any different. Just a half brained Thai boxer with some magic tricks against a whole gallery of messed up creatures from a tangle of lore and myth.

It was before long that he finally arrived back where once he stood, out in the point between fields before the door which stood on it's own. Regardless of whatever became of the Viking Al just stood there, Waiting on whoever else was following until the whole gang showed. Perhaps the screw up would be able to illuminate this abnormality for them once they showed. It'd be hard to feel like he was any further in the dark about things but Al never believed in absolute certainty.

If there was one thing he knew he didn't know it was just how little he knew.

Volga proved to be combersome to carry, being taller although lighter than the welterweight. Not to mention her hair. She was more or less dead weight until Al decided to heal her a bit more. During which she began to stir causing her sword to spin on its y-axis as if out of excitement. The tall woman inhaled deeply and jolted in her sleep in a similar manner to someone getting splashed with a bucket of ice water. Her muscular structure felt more like stone than flesh as she tensed before relaxing. "Uuunnnn.." she groaned plaintively before groaning again in pain as the bruises, burns, fractures, and cuts all screamed at her at once "Owowowowow!...". She hissed at the pain once again until her mind registered the dulling effect of the healing. Her eyes fought her to stay closed as she turned to Al half conscious and fighting her exhaustion. "Kira? You've gotten so much stronger.." she muttered to Al in her dazed state as she fought to regain consciousness against the protests of her own body. It was clear that she shouldn't be allowed to move until she could fully sleep off the damages.

Seeing as Allan wasted little time on reunions, seemingly merely coming back to pick up the viking, sneer at the demon and Acquire information about some entity he had come across, Ivan followed Allan on his way towards the mentioned door. Ivan merely hoped that this was one entity they didn't have to fight as he glanced at River for some form of explanation.

There were many questions flowing through his mind about the challenges yet to come. They had just fought a group and barely scratched by, when the other side wasn't even going all out from what he understood. And they seemed to genuinely fear the idea of being hunted by this lord, which would indicate that they'd be no match for a lord or at least not without heavy casualties on their side. With a flip of the coin that lord could have well gone after Ivan and his present company, would they have even stood a chance, especially after the damages sustained in that fight. All in all a frightening concept to be thinking about.

He kept an eye on the sword floating beside Allan, worst came to worst he at least had one arm with the strength left to drag that thing to wherever their destination would be. Though undoubtedly the seemingly conscious sword would not be pleased with such a treatment and certainly Volga wouldn't approve such mishandling of her sword either. If luck were to be on his side once more today whatever powers were keeping that sword by the side of it's master would continue to grace them. But it was certainly odd to see a sword act like a being with emotions, checking on it's wielder like a concerned mother, spinning in excitement as Volga at least partially returned to the land of the living.

At the end of their trek Allan stopped in a greyish field with an army on either side frozen in place. One side cast in frigid ice the other cast in searing metal. It seemed like the display portrayed some ancient clash that had happened here. However glancing over the statues he could see a few familiar faces, perhaps this was a clash of the previous cycle, perhaps older. But one thing is for certain the clash had to have been of great importance to have left this display. "I assume I don't need to tell you all to not touch those statues. Best case scenario you'll burn or freeze your flesh, worst case scenario they will stop being frozen in time." Ivan said to the others as they approached the field of statues. perhaps it was mere paranoia, but the energies that emanated from this field gave of a faint feeling that they were inside the jaws of a large trap waiting for the slightest tampering to snap shut.

Al

"I assume I don't need to tell you all to not touch those statues. Best case scenario you'll burn or freeze your flesh, worst case scenario they will stop being frozen in time."

"Or you end up frozen with them. Trust me, I don't trust those things." He responded to Ivan's cautions, not even bothering to look over as he started to set down the viking's body. Going to a knee he eased her to the ground to not jostle her, giving little issue to her delirious mutterings. Once she was laid to the floor he stood back up straight, looking over to the wizard guy as an alternative since he was consciously making the choice not to acknowledge the sword in any feasible capacity.

"So there's a guy behind that door. I can't say for sure if this is the door out of here."


Al looked back down the road he came on. He couldn't see the others from where he was. Were they late? Did he really manage to outpace them just like that? The frail looking nerd kept up but he wasn't hauling anybody.

"I think the idiot said he knew the guy. Wonder what's keeping him?"

He kinda sorta asked Ivan, not really expecting him to know better despite being the brainy type. So far to Al it seemed the wizard was more of a book-smart type but not the Sherlock Holmes variety of smart. That was to say he didn't think highly of his deductive skills, though he certainly wasn't the worst for it. That enviable award was tied for by both the viking and the cat/lady/thing. He didn't think too highly of his own deductive ability so it was a fairly low bar set by him too.


No, they definitely didn't strike him as too deductive.