[BlueInTheShell]

"Ah hope it was just people being dumb at the guildhall. I coulda killed trolls to help the people, you know? Not that ah don't think what you are doing isn't helpful, yes?" Deadwaltz said with a small shrug.

A rest was welcomed by just about everyone it seemed, and the moment Arabella called for one, Deadwaltz took to finding a tree she deemed somewhat safe, and dropped herself onto the cold ground with a small smile; the large woman pulling the two swords from her back and examining them; only to lick a finger and polish a smudge from the more decorated of the blades. She could overlook the rest of the party in this spot for herself, and if something did decide to show up and harm them? She could act first and start the hue and cry for battle. While she cleaned maintained her weapons, the woman sang to herself, rocking her head from side to side with her own little beat.

Who shall sing to me?
Into the Death-Sleep sling me?
When ah walk the Path of Death,
And the tracks ah tread are cold, so cold...

Christoval prayed to whatever deity decided to coerce the mentors into letting them rest, and the weights were waved away and handed to the halfling, Christoval sucking in an incredible amount of air when he could lower the two bags and take a moment to rest for himself, the young knight looking over towards Kastivi with a cherry-colored face and giving her a small thumbs-up. "I do it all for everyone here. I'd carry all of you, and all of your stuff if it meant we all came back safe." He gasped out, taking in a few more bits of air. Finally mustering up the energy to reply to Percival with a bit of a stern glare. "I don't ask for your soul, sir. I just want to make sure our healer's mind isn't foggy. I don't want you to have to live with the guilt of being the reason of us lies dead on the ground." his voice was blunt and irritated, and the young knight's fists clenched while he moved in to sniff the canteen. "Prove you're saving it then. Give the flask to me."

"Healing. I have tried several times to attempt to heal people. It does not work well with my line of magic. At least in the terms of comfort it is supposed to bring." Wisp replied with a shrug of her shoulders, before lifting up a bit of cloth covering her arm to reveal a small mess of scar tissue along her upper arm. "The Devils below view healing as a punishment. It it supposed to hurt because you failed to not get hit." She explained haphazardly, her eyes craning towards Christoval and Percival. Crossing her arms over her chest, Wisp multitasked the babysitting and conversing with Arabella. "...And if she gets tempted into joining my line of work?" Wisp asked, pursing her lips. "Hells below. She's too innocent for what the trade-offs are."

[sylvanSpider]

Arabella laughed, shaking her head, “Yes, this is important and I'm sure there's a reason you're with us. We'll see what that is when we get to where we're going. Those goblins aren't going to kill themselves, and I can think of none better suit to do it for them.” Arabella took the weights from Kastivi and fastened them to her own ankles, putting the other set on her shoulders so as not to upset her back and throw off the balance. After all, someone had to carry them when they weren't being used by another person.

Kastivi sat down where she was, finding a nice rock to rest her weary haunches and reached for her toes. Ara would be pleased to see her stretching in between her workouts, but she wasn't about to call attention to it; she wanted to go without weights as long as possible. Still, she could feel a bit of guilt well up in her chest. Both sets of weights went to the halfling any time they weren't in use. Truly, her strength went further than she'd bother to say, but then, she knew that even those to a person like Deadwaltz were probably nill. Arabella sat down beside Deadwaltz and watched her sharpen her swords as she sang. Soon, her voice joined Deadwaltz's in a harmony, letting Waltz take the melody:

I sought the songs
I sent the songs
when the deepest well
gave me the drops so touched
of Death-fathers wager...

Kastivi blinked. She'd heard Ara sing before, but she never expected her to know the words that the barbarian sang, especially considering the references to gods she'd never worshiped, let alone mentioned. Kastivi colored, glancing down, “I would do the same, again and again. And I know you and I are not the only ones to share that sentiment.” She wiped some sweat from her brow before leaning back, propping herself up by locked wrists, “I truly believe that this expedition is going to be a success. Who knows, we might even get to see a step closer to peace.”

“I have nothing to prove to you, apprentice knight. Tell you what, if you can tell me of a single adventurer that has died within the past five years under my care, I will give it to you,” Percival said, narrowing his eyes at said knight. “Be grateful it is I and not your mentor doing the healing. I don't punish you for taking hits, her healing does. Not that I see anything wrong with it if it gets the job done.”

[BlueInTheShell]

Deadwaltz flashed a small smile back towards Arabella, teeth just poking out from her lips as she snickered and mimicked the motions of twisting a greenskin's head's from it's torso, making the "Spllllrrrkzzzt." Noise that came with removing muscle and flesh from a mass of living being, albeit in a more cartoonish fashion. "Ah'm sure your apprentices could do the job on their lonesome. They walked this far without whining too much or quitting. It's us old people calling for the break, am ah not wrong?" She grinned, nodding her head towards the young knight and the daughter-to-be. "In months they'll be better than all of us, no?"

Wisp looked over towards the two singing, and drifted herself over towards the little duo, keeping her eyes closed and just taking in the melody between the halfling and the barbarian. It was invigorating, even though the topic of their keening was a bit on the morose side. Tapping her foot in beat with the two, the Dark Mage added her own voice to the group; ethereal tone haunting and adding an angelic hint into the harmony, all the while Deadwaltz continuing her song with a bit more fervor.

Cattle die, kinsmen die.
You yourself will also die.
But the deeds about you will never die,
If you win a good reputation...

Christoval watched the now-trio of ladies lamenting their woes in song and puffed his cheeks, rubbing the back of his head and turning towards Kastivi. It certainly wasn't a song he would have heard in the fields with a plow, but music was a welcome addition to the trek. Pouring sweat himself, Christoval used the hem of his shirt and tugged it upwards to soak some of his own fluids away, and let out a deep, heavy breath. "And when we get back we can celebrate and convince the mentors to have a bit of leeway in the following day. I know if I manage to make Wisp a bit pleased, she tends to let me get away with murder. The non-literal kind. Though I feel like she'd let me get away with actual murder. Not that I would do that." He said, stammering and grinning like a loon. "I talk my thoughts out too much, sorry."

The conversation with Percival was taking a nastier twist, and Christoval's eyes locked on the man; icy hues narrowed and a stern, unamused look on his face casting a rather serious, matured note on an otherwise youthful knightly prospect. "You have everything to prove. You're claiming you're the best, and you're acting like a healer in his last verges of life. Like I said, prove it. Hand the flask over if it isn't such a bother." Christoval's nose flaired and the young man puffed himself up, ready to move towards the man before a loud crack, followed by a plume of sulfurous smoke erupted between the two - Wisp standing there with hellfire for eyes that burned towards Christoval, and then towards Percy.

"I'll punish you both if you don't shut both of your mouths. The next word out of either of you better be compliments, or I'll get the 'Get-Along' Shackles and make you both march in them." Waving Christoval away, who moved back towards his bags with a bit of grumbling, Wisp set herself on Percival, moving in closer to the man.

"And if you keep harassing my boy, when I send you to Hell myself, the ones who are going to escort you to damnation are gonna be friends of my Patron. He owes me a favor, and I'm more than willing to waste it on your damnation for harassing my apprentice. I have enough trouble with the Guild with apprentices as it is. And I know no one will believe me if Sir Percival refused to heal my dying knight." Wisp growled, extending her hand. "Your flask. Now -I- need a drink for you two ruining my walk."

[sylvanSpider]

The halfling sat down on a rock that was jutting into the path, glad for the rest on her feet and wishing that she'd taken the first shift with the weights. She couldn't help but laught with Deadwaltz's impression, finding it all the more funny with the fact that it wasn't too much of an exaggeration in the barbarian's case. “I'm certain they could. I know Kastivi is more than capable, and my hopes are high for our young knight as well, but I fear they wouldn't be half as entertaining as you, Waltz,” Ara mused, pulling out a piece of bread looking stuff wrapped in a leaf. She broke it and handed over a part of it to Waltz, “It's pretty tasty, and we can do with the added strength it'll give us to have something in our bellies.”

Wisp's addition to their little chorus was a happy one, and Arabella didn't miss a beat as she proceeded to raise her voice with the two other women, repeating the last verse one last time:

Cattle die, kinsmen die.
You yourself will also die.
But the deeds about you will never die,
If you win a good reputation....

Saying when they finished, “And we will build that reputation with this mission with our success.” She gave a resolute nod. Kastivi didn't know the song, but it was beautiful nonetheless and she wished that more parties would sing more. Excepting herself of course. She was tone deaf and couldn't sing to save her life. But, she could whistle, and if it got too quiet she would do just that.

Percival returned that icy glare but was grateful when his master chased him away before he had a chance to retort. The entire argument felt childish and he wished the annoying apprentice knight would leave him alone. “If you were paying attention, you'd see that he started bothering me. I don't see that it's his business what I do so long as I'm successful when I do it. And I always am,” Percival retorted, half spitting the last words out. “So long as I am alive to heal your precious apprentice, I will,” he muttered handing over his flask, “Don't drink too much of it or you're going to have a very upset white mage. Peh. I don't see him bothering you about drink...”

[BlueInTheShell]

Waltz latched onto the bread with a clumsy attempt at being dainty, looking at the bit of bread and stuffing her face with reckless abandon. Smacking her lips and brushing crumbs off of her chest, the Barbarian raised a brow and itched her backside; the woman adjusting her rear and shifting her weight from one side to the other. "It's not meat, but ah like the bread. Tastes like goodness and farms. If that makes sense." She beamed, eyes moving over towards the younger two. "Ah wish ah still had the same innocence those two have too. Ah miss being so naive. Ah wanna see the world anew again sometimes, yeah? And then bash everything like ah did the first time." Waltz added in, snickering and looking to the halfling. "...Yah might wanna step a bit back. This sword doesn't like magic. And Ah don't want it hurting you, but ah gotta clean it or he gets pissier than a starving owlbear."

With the song ending, Waltz wriggled in place. It was a somber song, but then again, there was little to have joy in when it came to the matters in the North. It was a struggle for live in such a frozen rock, and even the slightest error could have been fatal. Waltz, snorted. It was probably why everyone was so bitter and accepting of fate up there. Unlocking the magic blade at her lap, the woman pulled out the gleaming blade; and beginning to polish it - The woman immune to the fact when the blade was drawn, the sword let out an almost overwhelming, palpable aura of fury and rage for the magic-wielders in the area; Waltz humming like a loon and giving the sword a small bit of polish.

Scowling and muttering under his breath, Christoval began to rummage through his own pack, pulling out a meal ration and splitting it open; the younger knight breaking a chunk of tack biscuit and stuffing it into his mouth. When you don't have anything nice to say, just stuff your mouth with food. He could hear his mother's lecturing about people like Percival in his head, and while the man was both an elder, and the party's sole healer, there was something about him that didn't stick with Christoval. Healers aren't normally this...This haggardly, right?

Wisp glowered at Percival, brushing a tuft of onyx hair behind pallid ears as she snapped her fingers; a set of spectral, purple-hued shackles emerging in her hands. Just a bit of show of course, but each excuse sputtering out of the healer's mouth was another minute Wisp thought about plunging something sharp into both of them as a lesson. Zero Tolerance. "You think I care about who started this whole argument? The boy is simply looking out for everyone, including yourself. If you weren't so enamored with poisoning your liver, you would see that." Taking the flask, Wisp raised a brow at Percival, and unstopped the Flask, taking a few drops and rubbing it in the back of her mouth. "...I have a sore tooth. I'm numbing it, and he knows that." She spat back at Percival, capping the flask and shoving it back towards the healer. "Continue being so sour, and you'll have to tend to a very upset Dark Mage. I'll keep Christoval from you if needed. But your mood is irritating. Stop it."

[sylvanSpider]

Arabella succeeded in being dainty as she proceeded to break the loaf several more times, passing the pieces to the various members of the party. The adventuring life was for her, and nothing pleased her more than a short snack rest and looking forward to the rest of the day on her feet. The sights, the sounds of the wild were enticing for her. It was her main reason for leaving her comfy hole in pursuit of an education – an education that took place in the world of tall folk. She'd managed just fine, and succeeded despite her size. “It makes perfect sense, Waltz. This is the remnants of the bread that was given to me from the ranger of our last expedition. To me, it tastes like campfire and nights under the stars on the plains.” Arabella got to her feet, the second the sword was drawn she could feel it, so she moved to the other side of the camp.

Kastivi could feel it, too, and she knew why Ara moved away. She was glad she was this far away from the sword. Waltz spoke of it like it was a sentient being, and Kastivi wouldn't be surprised if that's what it was. She'd heard of weaponry of that nature before, but she knew that they were rare if they existed at all. “So where is it exactly that we're going? Is it far from here or close by?” she finally asked after recuperating from the initial shock of the aura of the sword. “I won't complain either way, but I'd like to know what kind of weather we'll be facing,” Kastivi said, laughing.

“Does it really matter to you, Kas? I've seen you travel through blizzards in nothing more than the garb you have now, and you were no worse for the wear,” Arabella said, snorting. It was true, too. Where other Daughters had to work to summon their energy, Kastivi was the exception. Her training consisted of repression rather than the actual summoning and she seemed far more comfortable in cold climates than she did in warm ones. She wondered how she lasted as long as she did in the southern nations.

Percival took his share of the loaf with a smile and a nod. After all, it wasn't Arabella that seemed to have it out for him. Turning back to Wisp, however, he took back his flask and put it back on his belt. He didn't drink from it, however, and he noted that she of course turned to her apprentice (who seemed to already hate him) for confirmation. Like hells he was going to turn to that twerp – unless he was going to heal him. He wasn't about to let his streak of no dead adventurers come to an end just because some self-righteous prick decided to piss him off. “That's fine, I can keep to myself,” he grumbled, taking a seat just off the path and opening one of his books, retrieving a quill and ink well from his breast pocket.

[BlueInTheShell]

Christoval looked towards the rest of the group while they were moving away from Waltz and her weapon, the boy oblivious to any stirrings coming from the blade, though he quickly moved over to take the offered bit of bread from Arabella, offering her in turn a chunk of the jerky he was eating. "Doesn't taste like campfires and warm nights, but it makes it seem like you've swallowed a rock, and keeps you from being hungry over long treks." He said, smiling and sighing; the boy shaking his snowtop of a mane. "I just wanna get this job over with, I don't trust out healer." He muttered to himself, collapsing onto his rear and staring upwards at the sky.

Deadwaltz grunted and lifted the blade for a moment, letting it shine in the sunlight before she seemed satisfied, the barbarian sighing and shrugging her shoulders. "Yah, yah, sword. Murder everyone here. Bathe in the mage blood. Yah gotta start looking at things differently. They can be yah friends and free yahself, if you weren't so keen on killing all'a mah friends." She replied to the weapon, scrunching her face up and shoving the blade back in its sheathe, and then moving to keep the weapon locked back in place. "Yah should ask Wisp. She knows this place like the back of her hand." Deadwaltz huffed, nodding towards the Dark Mage.

Wisp hissed a little at the Barbarian, who snarled back and laughed before she fixed eyes on Kastivi and shrugged her shoulders. "This time of year, it will be chilly in the morning, and blistering while the sun is up in the Noon. You might as well just dress to stay cool, and endure the brunt of the chill." The last bit seemed to be aimed towards Christoval, her nose flaring and the Dark Mage motioning a hand towards the young knight. "As you can see, my protege is going to die in the sun from the amount he is sweating," She added, "Christoval, if you didn't get the hint, I meant for you to take off your cloak. Now."

"Yes ma'am."

Back on the assault of Percival's precious liquor, Wisp snorted and watched the man act so impishly, before moving to follow him to his seat, the Dark Mage Bending at the waist so she was eye level with him; Wisp leaning in close and pecking the tip of his nose with her lips. "You're cute when you're irritated." She mentioned with an offhanded gesture, before moving back towards the rest of the group, hand up to cover the grin along her face while she side-eyed a puzzled looking Christoval.

[sylvanSpider]

“You don't trust our healer?” Arabella asked, cocking an eyebrow and gratefully taking the jerky, promptly tearing off a bite. Of course she left her voice low so as to avoid any unwanted ears, but the surprise couldn't be hidden, “You know he's renowned for what he does, right? The pool of healers, admittedly, isn't large, but of them he's by far the biggest fish. We're fortunate to have him with us you know.” Arabella shrugged and tossed her head in the direction of the man they were speaking of, turning her eyes toward Christoval, “If you're talking about the drink, I disapprove as well. But his magic is effective and he hasn't let anyone die since, well? Long enough that I don't remember. He might have been green then.”

Arabella turned her attention to the barbarian who was a suitable distance from her, sighing with the relief the moment the sword was sheathed. She wasn't alone in that relief either. Kastivi and Percival felt it as well, more at ease without the threat of that thing tearing through their flesh. “Mm, I'll make it a point to walk with her then when we're back on the road,” she mused, tapping her chin. “Kastivi and my own adventures haven't led us through these parts often.”

Kastivi laced her fingers behind her head and looked back at the branches that hung over head, reveling in the soft breeze wafting through their leaves, “All the better then, I think. I prefer the cold. After adventuring further in the north, I don't know how I ever survived in the South. It feels less heavy, makes you feel more alive, doesn't it?” Wisp's threats earlier were still heavy on Kastivi's mind, but again, she was eager to make more friends than enemies, and she was clever enough to know that Wisp was not an enemy she could take. At least, certainly not yet. She laughed, “Christoval, you should listen to your Master. They often give valuable advice.”

Percival didn't expect to be followed. Judging from the goody two-shoes knight he was going to be dealing with, he assumed he might as well be traveling as a solitary pedestrian. The Dark Mage bending at the waist in front of him taking him off guard. The first thing he saw (though unintentionally) was cleavage, though his eyes only stayed there for a split second before he realized what he was looking at and he turned his gaze up to her eyes. It was in this moment that he felt her lips on his nose, his cheeks immediately turning a dark shade of crimson. “C-cute?” he asked, but she had already turned to head back to the rest of the group. Tugging at his collar and straightening his hat, he resumed his writing. He was on a very different kind of high now.

[BlueInTheShell]

"I don't trust alcoholics. They have a habit of mucking something up, no matter how well reknowned or skillful they are. Sooner or later the poison has a habit of doing what it does well. Getting people killed." Christoval replied, before shaking his head. The boy didn't even know most of the people he had been signed to venture with, and save for Wisp, would have assumed most of them weren't any sort of major figure in the guild. Keeping his tone muffled enough to converse with Arabella in silence, Christoval huffed. "Someone's reputation shouldn't let them be able to do what they want. This is coming from someone who hasn't even begun a path to being an actual knight."

"Well if yah do, then don't ask her too much about some of the places. If she's super short is usually means she's sensitive about whatever she is griping about. It's something ah picked up real quick working with her." Deadwaltz replied, puffing her chest out and then inhaling harshly through her nose, only to spit out a wad of phlegm onto the ground. "Well yah should count yourself lucky. Ah know some chiefs or lords or whatever yah call them are squabbling. Means at some point people are gonna start arming up and killing each other. When they could be killing monsters that eat them."

Waltz looked over to Kastivi and grinned like a loon. "Now yah are talking sense! The cold is the best. Tests you. Makes you work harder to stay warm. It's why ah like it. Ah used to swim in the deep bits of snow naked all the time when I was younger. Mah dad stopped that when he told me snow sharks would bite mah ass. Never went in snow again. And then ah learned there were no snow sharks when ah tried mah hand in the guilds the first time."

Christoval grunted and set about taking off his cloak, letting the arquebus on his back into display; the blackpowder weapon dangling and jingling. Tucking the garment into his bag, the young knight looked over to Kastivi and smiled, "I am not sure what invaluable lesson I have learned from hearing about what parts of Wisp's feet are sore and where to rub, but I see what you mean." Snickering his face turned over to watch Wisp bending over to kiss Percival, his face going pink. (Percival got to see her chest. Christoval's eyes got the backside.) "I err...Well, I mean, something has gotten to come from it, right? The foot rubs I mean not...You weren't paying attention to me, yeah? Nevermind, drop it."

With her seeds planted, Wisp perched herself in her own little spot, pulling out a set of stones from a pouch at her side and placing them on the ground, moving each one with meticulous precison, though it seemed each stone was moved at random, until she plucked one up and squinted at it, grunting to herself and tucking them all away. "Grey stone. Great. The dead are telling me of bad comings."

[sylvanSpider]

Arabella's face softened and she leaned forward, toying with the jerky in her fingers, “You talk like someone with experience in that field. I won't push you to tell me, but I do agree. It isn't right. People do die. Be glad he's not drinking now.” Her eyes went back to Percival, though only for a moment. He was there, book in one hand, quill in the other. She wouldn't be surprised if he was preparing extra spells for the day. If his reputation preceded him, the drink caused him to almost over-do it, bracing himself for the worst. But Ara didn't buy it. If he did, it was because he was a cynic of some sort. The drink was good for two things: numbness and forgetfulness; he was more than likely using it for both. “This coming from a man beyond his years,” Ara mused, taking a bite from her jerky and kicking her weighted feet.

“It's good to take a note on, indeed,” Ara said, almost wishing she could. It was best to be aware of members in your party. Weaknesses, after all, she could only make up for if she knew them, and one could only know to fall back on a teammate in strength if the teammate was made aware of her own. “I'll be sure to keep it geography related, if possible.” Ara plopped the rest of the jerky into her mouth, chewing with a thoughtful expression, “It seems everyone is always fighting at the expense of the poor and powerless when we would all be the better if we could just get our heads out our asses and make peace.”

Kastivi beamed back, happy to have someone who wasn't scowling at her perpetually talking to her. She stood up and stretched, arms reaching as high as they would go and stood on her tip toes, “I'm glad someone has good sense on this expedition. Can't say that I've ever gone swimming in the snow in the nude, but I can say that I've enjoyed a breathlessly cold night or two. And, it's probably a good thing there are no such thing as snow sharks. There'd be no adventurers in the north anymore. We'd all be dead.” She laughed; the thought of each of the party dying in the jowls of something like a snow shark was humorous despite its morbidity.

Kastivi blinked seeing the long powder-packed barrle on Christoval's back and stopped herself from touching it. She'd never seen one before and she lowered her hand laughing sheepishly when the knight's attention was on her, “I'm sure she's taught you more than that...hasn't she?” Kastivi looked down, fiddling with her hands and barely noticed Percival's looking away to the healer and dark mage's exchange, and didn't see it herself, “No, no...I was paying attention to you. I'm just... sorry that you don't think she's helping you much.” She spoke in barely a whisper, “Maybe we could help you train. You'll be going against mages at some point anyway, right?”

Percival glanced up from his book every so often and hearing Wisp's voice over the din, he now looked to her, “The dead? What do they say?” Percival knew better than to disregard a black mage and their dealings with the dead. Nine out of ten times they were right and should have been listened to. He'd been on several expeditions that would have ended much sooner than they did had they simply listened to black mage. When one was speaking of bad omens? He'd have to be extra ready.

[BlueInTheShell]

"Not so much firsthand experience, as I've heard stories in the guildhall. People who got sloshed before an easy job. Next thing you know what you planned to face isn't actually the thing bothering you, and it gets the group mangled and failing the guild's mission it sent them on." Christoval replied, venom and irritation in his voice. Casting a peek towards the man and then towards Arabella, Christoval's face soured even more. "If he ends up getting someone harmed and I smell a hint of juniper in his breath, I'll...I'll reprimand him myself. Especially if...Well..." He droned off and looked over to Kastivi. "I just don't wanna see people I like get hurt because of stupidity."

"If yah want yah can also talk to Wisp about demons. She likes talking about them a lot too. Mostly because she knows ah got locked up in Hell for a month, and knows ah think she ain't crazy for knowing all ah that." Waltzed added in, hiking a massive thigh up and scratching underneath, only to pull a small beetle from her skin and flick it into the woods. "Ah mean, not that ah wish for it, but if yah got some Elves or Greenies invading, it'd probably get your asses in gear, yah?"

Waltz then inched towards Kastivi, still chuckling, and gave her a couple of nudges in the rib with her elbow. The dark-skinned southlander was a snow lover? Something she didn't expect at all. "Yah sure you don't have a little bit a Northerner in yahself? People down here hate the snow. Pansies." Waltz said, cracking herself up and rubbing her face with a oil-coated hand. "Yah should go swimming nekkid in the snow, if so yah knight person oogles you more. And he can defend you against the snow sharks." Waltz said, waggling her eyebrows and nudging her once again. Those two were so cute. And she liked the sound of Aunty Deadwaltz.

Noting the young pyromancer's glances at his arquebus, Christoval unslung it from his back and offered it towards Kastivi so she could examine it more intensely, the knight shrugging his shoulders. "Put black powder and a metal ball in the tube, use a spark to launch the ball like a sling." He said, putting it's use in layman's terms and grinning at her question. "I get more educational lectures than I do any martial training. I mean, Wisp has a weapon, she just doesn't have the skill needed to really teach me anything combat related." He sighed, before thanking the gods his small bout of staring at his master's bits went unnoticed. "I have to give her credit though. I know enough about magic to at least know what might be coming my way and how to defend against it. That's about it. If you wanna help train, I won't say no."

Wisp blinked a few times, Percival's voice bringing her slightly back into tune with the living. Yawning the dark mage shrugged her shoulders and snorted. "Evil things in the woods. I guess we have more eyes on us than just goblins I suppose. You know the dead. They speak in riddles and like to torment the living sometimes with cryptic nonsense." It was almost theatrical how a cold wind blew in front of the dark mage, the woman rolling her eyes at the timing before looking to the rest of the group. "Should we continue? At the very least we can make it to the monastery and not have to worry about camping in the dark with shadows looming over us all."

[sylvanSpider]

Arabella followed Christoval's gaze, first during the threat toward Percival, then to Kastivi as the topic went to more tender grounds. She raised her eyebrows, “By people, do you mean Kas?” She chuckled, shaking her head and stood up to put a hand on his shoulder, “I'm not going to stop you. Just, don't let her fall for you only to go off and die, alright? Fight hard, but fight safe. I take it Wisp has been training you enough to know to watch the battlefield closely? To read your opponents?” She shifted her weighted feet and sighed, “I'm thinking we should probably be off. Those goblins aren't going to slay themselves, after all!”

“I fear my knowledge in demons is a bit lacking,” Arabella said tapping her chin and looking at the barbarian, “Perhaps if she is willing to speak of it in layman's terms, I might ask her about that as well.” Never one to turn down an opportunity to learn, Ara put the idea in the back of her mind for later use. She didn't want to cut her conversation short with Waltz, so it was going to have to wait. She'd have plenty of opportunity later.

Kastivi jumped, hardly expecting anyone to be in her bubble at that moment but immediately burst into a smile when she saw it was Waltz. “I ah...suppose I can't be too sure, but both of my parents looked like Southerners, at any rate. But I don't think I could ever hate the snow. It's too peaceful to hate, really. That and the heat just feels...heavy, if you know what I mean.” Kastivi blinked, wondering what it was that Deadwaltz was doing, but came to the conclusion that that was just part of who she was and it was best not to question those sorts of things. She laughed and shook her head, “But if there are no snow sharks, then his job would be too easy, wouldn't it?”

Kastivi took the weapon in her hands. It was heavier than she thought it would be, her hands dipping down when the full weight was on her. Wooden in parts, metal in parts, and smooth, it was hard to believe that if wielded properly this thing could kill people. “Like a sling? And black powder? It sounds...unusual. But it works like a sling that is much harder that you don't actually have to sling, right? If the rumors are true, anyway. It propels it out of that hole at the end?” She was so curious about the spark and where it came from, but she handed it back to Christoval in a hurry. After all, anything that required a spark in her hands was more than likely to go off. “Her skills are in other areas, so that makes sense. Your skills would be predominantly against dark mages then I suppose. They're dangerous, so I'm sure that knowledge will be useful in the future.”

“Unfortunately,” Percival said, looking up from his book and shutting it, having heard Ara just moments before, “My business is with the nearly dead, rather than the dead. Less cryptic and more moaning in some sort of agony. Once they pass that threshold though, I can't say that I know as much.” He put his book in his pack and stood, stretching. “I think we should. We've given the younglings enough time to rest.”

[BlueInTheShell]

Christoval was had, and he couldn't help but snicker and grin like a sheepish loon when Arabella managed to hit the nail on the head of love, the younger knight nodding a few times and sighing. "Am I that obvious? Darn, I thought I was hiding it a lot better than I thought I was I guess." He grunted for a second and looked over towards the diminuative hand on his shoulder before nodding a few times. "I don't plan on dying. I have to become a knight first. Or a Paladin. And Wisp drilled me relentlessly on watching the battlefield and such. If you want, the next time we rest for good, I'd be happy to show you what I can do. I'd even go against Waltz!" He laughed, looking over to the large woman and then regretting his bravado when she glared at him, eyes wide and a giant toothy smile that only seemed to resemble a wild animal.

"Word of Advice. Don't deal with demons, Arabella. It's more trouble than it's worth." Wisp sniped in really quickly, before turning her focus elsewhere, leaving the Barbarian woman to nod and huff. "Ah'll take you on, but if ah win, yah gotta wash mah ass when ah bathe." Waltz replied towards the young knight, flexing an arm with biceps nearly the side of Arabella herself, and winked at the Halfling before addressing Kastivi. "Well, if yah do have Northerner in yahself, it ain't showing. Yah look as southern as Percival looks miserable. Ah! Yah right, it would be too easy. Ah hope it's not just goblins. Ah ain't gonna get a proper workout if it's the little runts."

Christoval nodded, and looked towards Kastivi her confusion and doubt prompting the boy to begin the arduous process of loading the arquebus one he snagged it back from her. First there was a bit of primer that was loaded down the barrel, followed by a small bit of the black, sulfurous powder he had mentioned, before Christoval fumbled on his person for a round for the arquebus. "Yeah, you're right. It's really strong. A lot stronger than a sling, but easy enough to use. When it's not wet. Or jammed. It's a sensitive weapon, but it'll put a hole through just about anything. Lemme show you!" Christoval said, before frowning and shaking his head. "Oh no, nevermind, I only have a few arquebus rounds left...I'll keep it primed at least though." He grumbled, "Hm? Oh, I mean, Dark Mage practice is tough, but it does blend a little bit of others in there. Hellfire is still fire nonetheless, so I feel like I can deal with pyromancy with a bit of decency."

Wisp gave Percival a deadpan look, and shrugged her shoulders at the healer. "The nearly dead are worse than ghosts. At least I can stop chanting and the dead stop blurting things out. I have to put a dagger in the nearly dead to make them stop." Back on her feet, the Dark Mage arched her back and yawned, and then sighed gently. "I would kill someone or throw them on an alter to be able to ride a horse now. Christoval. Leaves the bags. I'm making you run to build endurance."

Back on his feet, Christoval turned and cocked his head at Wisp, before his eyes went wide and he shook his head. "No. Nono. Not this again. At least give me a few seconds of a head start!"

"One...Two..."

And almost as if he teleported, the young knight began to foot it in their direction, Wisp chuckled and looking towards Arabella. "He has about ten seconds before I summon a hellhound with the instructions to fetch him. It's amusing. I can carry the baggage."

[sylvanSpider]

Arabella took a gamble in her assumption, but the odds were on her side, and she knew she had him as his cheeks turned crimson. “Yes, you might be, but I think in this instance it will work in your favor. Kastivi is clueless in those matters – she'll need it spelled out for her if you catch what I'm saying.” The halfling's eyes were shining, “So long as you stay true to your word, you have my approval.” She leaned forward so she could whisper without outside ears nosing in, “Do you intend to pursue?” His will to live was heartening. She wondered if that was a constant for him or if it had to be learned, like Kastivi. When she'd first found her apprentice, her apprentice expressed for many nights that she wished Ara had let them kill her. After Ara got after her for saying it out loud, she could see it painted on her face. Arabella had gone through...different...measures with Kastivi than she had with the others. She taught her to see the beauty of a flower, no longer crisping at the edges with her learned repression. She taught her the names of constellations, the myths that went with them. She told her of the Old Gods, the New Gods, of wars of eld, of how good always prevailed. Of how Kastivi was good. Of how Kastivi would prevail. “Oh, you are brave, ser knight!” Arabella exclaimed clapping her hands together. “Very well, the entertainment can begin when we make camp for the night. For the time being though, we should get moving. There is only so much daylight in a day, after all.”

Arabella jumped, not expecting the voice of the black mage behind her in her ear, and she did her best to hide her agitation, “Very well then, I'll not ask about them.” She mustered a chuckle, though this seemed slightly less sincere than those that she'd had in jest with Christoval. The words spoken at the inn were not forgotten it seemed, but they were forgiven. “What say you, knight? You ready to take that gamble?” She looked back at Waltz just in time to see the wink, her cheeks coloring though she wasn't entirely sure why.

“I don't think any Northerners are insane enough to stay in the Southern Nations long enough to sire a babe, let alone one as dark as I am,” Kastivi said with a shrug, “I am just in awe more people don't enjoy the snow. It's magical.” She sighed happily, looking up as if at the skies, as if she'd see clouds with the first hints of those pristine ice crystals, her gaze meeting instead only the interlaced branches of the forest above their heads. Her attention turned to the knight all too readily – she hoped she did not look too eager. “Well, I don't know if I want to see it in action or not. When do you decide to use that over say...your sword?” She knew of some methods of hand to hand combat, of course, but armed combat was a different beast entirely, one that she knew was fanged. She'd only ever heard of arquebi in passing, and she was glad that he told her what it was and how it worked. It was probably best if she avoided handling the barrel.

“Generally,” Percival said, lifting his gaze to meet that deadpan look with tired, sober eyes, “The nearly dead's moaning turns into praises and gold. I will take the nearly dead over the dead any day.” He cleared his throat, “Unless said nearly dead are infected with something, they generally smell better as well.” He watched as her attention shifted to her apprentice, a smile blooming when he realized what was happening. He wouldn't rub it in the knight's face however, in fact, Christoval likely didn't see his grin, but he was going to be entertained by it regardless.

Kastivi watched with wide eyes as the knight took off, “I ah...I take it that's our cue to leave?”

“That's our cue to leave, youngling,” Percival said, still grinning and shaking his head. “How long does he usually last?”

“Good thing he's not weighted anymore,” Arabella said, shaking her head. “Aren't you glad I don't train you like that, Kas?”

[BlueInTheShell]

"They say the hardest quest in the world is confessing love when your heart is screaming, and your brain is still trying to process every feeling that swarms when you look at someone you like. I...If I can somehow be a bit more blunt when it comes to saying I like her," Christoval began, rubbing the back of his head and flicking eyes towards Kastivi and then towards the Halfling, "Then I'd persue right here and now. For the moment, I'd be happy just sitting next to her and laughing. At least until I have a banner and a title of my own, so she's not just being romanced by some peasant." Christoval had seen it all the time in the villages and the smaller cities he had visited. Younger fellows pursuing women they loved with all their heart, only to be spurred and laughed at when the man in question's only virtue was hammering steel into shape. Or being able to tar a roof so it didn't leak when the rains came. Any man could take a beating and beratement from others. But when it came to watching a man's spirit break when it came to seeing his beloved laugh and toss his affections aside for someone more resplendent? Christoval wasn't going to take that chance himself. Not at least until he could call himself 'Ser Christoval' instead of Christoval, the Farmer from Aleside. Swallowing at Waltz's sudden acceptance of his challenge, Christoval sighed and took pride in that fact he wasn't gonna be the sole apprentice casualty. "At least I'll just be getting clocked in the head, Arabella. Kastivi has to endure a session of Dark Magic with Wisp."

Wisp grinned and snickered to herself; bringing up hands to hide the smile that oozed with malevolence, before she nodded and waved her emotions back to a dull, tired state. "If you do wish, however, I would be happy to offer you a small token of peace. At least peace until we in civilization once more and I can torment you, Arabella. It would protect you and your little daughter-to-be from the clutches of the things in the dark." Wisp puffed her cheeks and looked while Arabella swooned over the muscled barbarian, before swishing over to the Halfling to bring a hand and whispered words to her ear. "Waltz cares not about gender when it comes to love. You blush like Christoval swooning over Kastivi."

"Ah know a few who are mad enough to sit and linger in the Southern Nations mahself." Waltz hummed, bringing up a finger to her lips in thought when she was done showing off her musculature in her arms and furrowing her brow. "Mostly because they like the fact yah skin is call chocolate-looking and such. Northerners like things that look not like things from the North." Deadwaltz threw her hands up into the air at the snow comment, eyes wide and grin stretching a mile a minute. "Ah know! Snow is the best thing in the world and ah will fight everyone who says otherwise.

"Well, I mean, this thing is gonna send a bullet through steel. I try and save it for something big and nasty, or heavily armored. It's also loud and can scare away things like goblins." Christoval explained matter-of-factly, slinging it back on his person before chuckling. "Probably would be the best if you didn't hand onto it. A wayward spark, and we might end up hurting someone, or the gun could just ignite. And I don't wanna have to lose hands."

"The dead don't give gold, but their words can lead to riches if you appease them properly. You would be surprised just how nosy the spirits in this world are when it comes to sniffing out your wealth. Christoval hides his gold in his britches. Left side. That was something I learned today." Wisp grunted towards the healer, mouthing the count in her head and then just grinning when she said ten; a hand outstretched while she muttered a few verbal components. Her outstretched hand lowered and it looked as if the woman was gripping onto something in the thin air before the earth in front of her burst open; flickers of flame and magma churning and bleching out a skinless hound the size of a large warhound; cataracted eyes scanning the living in front of it while it came to with frothing, bloody dewlaps - finally letting out a howl that seemed to show the beast in near constant agony, before it trotted over to the dark mage and nuzzled her side; leaving a trail of saliva and foam that ran down her legs.

Reaching down to pat the hound a few times; the monster wincing with each stroke, Wisp cocked her head over towards Percival. "About 2 minutes before exhaustion sets in. This thing is tireless. Though before when I first started doing this, he didn't make it longer than 20 seconds. He's improved." Towards the two Daughters of Ash, Wisp shrugged a shoulder. "...If you wanna see how fast your apprentice moves, I can have this one fetch her too."

Almost sensing another task, the hellhound locked its gaze on Kastivi, bracing itself to pounce on the woman, before Wisp snapped her fingers, and looked towards him.

"You. Fetch my apprentice. Alive. Intact. So much as a missing finger, and your master will be sure to know your failure, hound." Letting out a hellish bray, the beast sniffed towards the ground and catching the knight's scent, lunged in his direction; whooping and bellowing the entirety of the way. The beast was free, and Wisp looked over to the two bags and took one in each arm, grunting and immediately breaking into sweats as she hefted them.

"Percival, would you be a beloved dear, and assist me too?" Wisp swooned, batting her lashes and him and feigning exhaustion.

[sylvanSpider]

Arabella was silent, listening to the future knight's worries. The they he spoke of...they weren't wrong. She could remember the first time she'd told her first she loved her. It was so long ago now, in a much different setting, the only similarities between then and now were the common elements of a quest and campfire. “If only it were that easy, right? If only that feeling in your chest could somehow be formed into words and that you knew, with one hundred percent certainty, that those words would be reflected back at you. If only self-doubt would cease long enough for you to see the obvious. She likes you, too, you know. Those looks you give her? I see her giving the same ones to you when she thinks no one's looking,” Arabella said with a wry smile and a shrug. “If you truly believe that Kastivi is one to put rank above her heart, then perhaps you are wrong to start looking for love at the moment, but not because you lack the titles. You have much to learn if this is what you truly believe. Tell me, Christoval, how would you feel about romancing a peasant? After all, that is what Kastivi is, if she could even be considered that now. She's from the Southern Nations. Jacha, to be exact.” She paused to look up at the branches as if trying to decide whether she wanted to go on one of those informational tirades that Kastivi was now well-conditioned to. Of course, this was mostly for show, it was going to happen regardless. She liked sharing her knowledge. “It's one of the three: Osta, Dreir Drela, and Jacha. Do you know anything of these? I do not hold it against you if you don't, few bother. There is no need to know much unless you are a merchant and even then, your dealings would consist of the lords of the land that the serfs rent. Of the three, Jacha is the poorest but with the strongest populace – physically speaking, I mean. They're farmers, the lot of them. Well, those without titles, but those are the few. It's hot there. Humid. The vapor lingers in the air and could almost drown a person. My visit to the Three Nations almost made me glad of my size,” Arabella continued with a jovial chuckle, “Imagine tilling the earth, planting, and harvesting with heat that wraps around you to the point you can't tell if you're drenched from your own sweat or the air. That is what Kastivi comes from. Her family, like almost all families of Jacha, were farmers. No, she's not going to be looking for titles, and her lover, whether that be you or not, should also look beyond them. Now, ser knight, I am not saying that your cause is not a noble one. By all means, please don't sway from your course, but do not think that Kastivi will think less of you without it.”

Arabella cast a look over to Kastivi to make sure that she was still blissfully ignorant of the conversation. She was, thankfully, paying attention to Deadwaltz, “She seems to be looking forward to it, though I wonder if she will be able to endure as well as you have.”

The halfling raised an eyebrow at the obtrusive dark mage, curiously, like she almost couldn't believe what she was hearing, “Is there a catch? I do not wish to be paying penance to some demon I do not know the name of.” She spoke from the perspective of ignorance, of course, and she knew this. But Wisp would have been well aware of that as just moments before Ara was asking for information. Arabella looked down, using her shortness as an advantageous way to hide one's coloring cheeks. “In that, Waltz and I are similar,” Arabella said in lieu of confessing her love of the fairer sex – though “fair” might not have been the proper way of speaking about Waltz. “She's...she's nice to look at,” Ara stammered, lacing and unlacing her fingers together, wishing there was some ready opening out of the conversation.

“Then you haven't spent very long in the south, have you?” Kastivi said laughing. “My people are stubborn and tend to rent the same plots of land they were born onto until the day they die and pass it on to their children to do the same.” Her hands rest gently on her hips, the tops of which were exposed to the cold of the mid-Northern air. She seemed content as ever talking to the barbarian, the glint in her brown eyes conveying as much to those that happened to witness their conversation. “I like things and people from the North,” Kastivi answered, using all of her energy to not glance at Christoval as she said this. “Chocolate is nice, but vanilla has its benefits as well.”
Kastivi scratched her head, still trying to decide what she thought of the weapon. She knew why she'd never seen one before. If she had held onto that for much longer, there was a high chance that it would have gone off. It was miracle that it didn't when she held it in her hands. “I also don't want you to lose your hands,” the Daughter finally said, relieved when the weapon was back on his back. If he had no hands, she'd never be able to know what it was like to hold them. She gave another reasoning if only to hide the color in her cheeks, however, “You won't be able to grip your sword without them.”

“I'm curious as to how the spirits got that information,” Percival said, scratching under his beard and casting a glance at the knight with the hidden money. It was money that he didn't want to touch knowing its whereabouts. Percival, not expecting the random spell-casting, jumped back, head almost hitting a stray branch and he grabbed his hat, yanking it off the top of his head before it could fall into the pit of fire. His eyes were wide as a hellhound clawed its way to the land of mortals. “A...warhound?” the healer muttered, eyes betraying his amazement. “I've never seen one in person, though I have read of them.”

Kastivi stood frozen in place, watching as Christoval took off, the hound close at his heels.

“If she doesn't get hurt, I don't see why not,” Arabella mused, tapping her chin.

“You can't be thinking of letting her sick that thing on me?!”

“Oh, I can.”