Therefore, I am Evil

---

When Luce was finally able to open his blue eyes, they were greeted by absolute darkness. He was on the floor and, for the time being, completely immobile.

Slowly, a red light flickered into his view, coming from all directions as if from some deep flame-although there was no fire in sight. It was dim, too dim to fully light up the figure sitting in the elevated chair placed before Luce.

As Luce's limbs began to regain feeling, accompanied by an uncomfortable pins-and-needles sensation, the figure began to talk. "It seems you have died," he said. The light built up enough to mostly illuminate his face-his vision was known throughout the lands as Avron, the second-most powerful demon lord of Hell. "You almost took your opponent out with you. Considering who that was, it has impressed me. I do believe I need you more on the surface of this world than down here in my hellish pits."

Avron stood, his form pulsating with dark power, smiling down on Luce not unkindly. "I actually enjoy rewarding my followers, Luce," he intoned. "As you know, I am keeping a close eye on the throne of Hell, and I would need some help doing that. In return, you can have the rest of the world... And maybe even a few more of your heart's desires." He pulled Luce to his wobbly feet, looking at him eye-to-eye, even though Avron was several feet taller. "You fight for me, and you'll be rewarded. Do we have a deal?"

Luce smiles mischieviously. "With pleasure, master."

---

It was dark in the city-not a surprise, for even though it was getting warm, the weather had not quite ended its winter course and clouds still scattered itself across the sky. It was a large city, which occupied many temples and did not devote itself to one Being-one of the few cities that did. Worshippers of Cocytus occasionally had a scuffle with those of Avron, but little more than that. Religion was not a major part of the city, which was more known for its thriving marketplace. Yet there was a tension that day that originated from one of its many temples-that of Avron.

The monk guards of the temple were attempting to diffuse the tension as they waited on their ledge above the large door, knowing but shoving from their minds that the monks of Avron knew more than they were saying. The monks that served as guard were carefully being kept well out of the loop. "Well, listen to this argument," one was pointing out. "Evil is sexy. I am sexy. Therefore, I am evil."

"The argument is invalid!" the other guard argued. "The middle term is not distributed. I wasn't born yesterday."

"Hah, you've pulled more illogical arguments than I care to count," the first guard spit. "Does the term 'post hoc' mean anything to you? And don't even get me started on the ad hominems you fling around like candy."

"Oh please," Came a small voice from inside. "Listen to you two, exchanging mindless drivel out here." A drow emerged from the temple, tossing several gold coins in her right hand. "You guys are about as harmless as two little daffodils commenting on the weather."

"It is not mindless!" one guard complained at the drow.

"And we are not harmless," the other guard growled, tightening his grip on the hilt of his sword.

"Down, boys," another monk said, coming in off the street from his trip to the library. "Save your energy." The guards silently steamed at this obvious reference to the situation from which they were kept oblivious. Save their energy for what, that's what they'd like to know.

The drow sneered as she gave a sidelong glance at the guards, hardly acknowledging the interfering monk. She made her way into the streets and into the nearest tavern.

The tavern, although even more dark than the street outside, was light with gossip. Apparently, an ardent supporter of Avron had been found dead in the territory of Cocytus a few days back, and things have been far too quiet in the temples of Avron for anybody to be at peace.

Within the tavern, a drunk man was bombarding a newcomer with the gossip. The newcomer was silently glowering at him, one side of her face hidden in a curtain of pink hair, the hairs on the back of her neck bristling at this assault. "They's gonna attack any day now," the guy slurred as the woman's grip on her drink tightened until it threatened to break her glass.

"That's it," she said, standing up and slamming down some money to pay for her half-finished drink in one move. "If I sit here any longer I'm drawing blood or breaking bones, whichever comes first." She sauntered out of the tavern, brushing past the drow woman as she did so.

Outside the temple, the guards were suddenly strictly instructed, in hushed tones, to allow no more visitors inside the temple-and to never go inside, no matter what, until they were instructed to do so. The great doors creaked shut with a slam that made everybody within earshot fall silent.

The drow did not move out of the way when the woman came, but simply allowed the contact to happen. She scanned the room, taking in all the different kinds of people present. Finally, she settled herself into an area that was far from hidden (of course indulging in herself in her ego). The drow snickered to herself at the uproar of those around her.

A rather short woman was taking advantage of the small uproar of the tavern. Every few moments, a sight of copper colored hair could be seen, meandering about aimlessly. Her purpose was being fulfilled, however. She inconspicuously took a few coins from a coinpurse here and there. After awhile of doing this, she sat back down. Too much activity in one day would mean she would be noticed, which meant bad things. Stuffing the coins she had gathered in her own coinpurse, she looked around, observing the other people around her.

Blood dripped from the knife within the temple, the animal from which it came from still twitching, the droplets forming a pattern. The monk in control of the knife chanted. For an instant, the monk was conscious of every soul nearby-those beating hearts of this fellow monks, a few people on the street, the busy tavern across the way... For that instant, he stared into the eyes of a few aware souls that glowed a bit brighter than the others. Then it was gone, the pattern was shooting out beams of light, and the next thing he was aware of were ice-blue eyes peering up at him as a man materialized in front of the grouop.

The woman with pink hair started in the street, her one eye shooting more awake, scaring a nearby couple. She stared them down then glanced over at the temple. She had felt something coming from there... And she wasn't sure it was a good feeling. She touched the part of her face hidden by her hair, wincing as if she was in pain.

Aran glanced over his shoulder at the temple before turning back to the tavern door, and finaly opening it. He peered inside with slight disgust at the room that probably had never been properly cleaned in its life. There was a little boy at his side, and he asked the boy, "Are you sure this is where the party is?"

The boy nodded vigourously, "Oh yes, sir! This is where the party is every night!"

Aran gave another look around inside and his eyes stopped on a particularly sexy drow female. "Woah, she must be damn evil if she's that sexy" he said under his breath. He grinned, gave the boy a coin and walked inside.

A couple of near-clean orcs were playing cards in a corner table of the tavern. It was difficult to tell which were having more beer spilt on them: the table, the cards or the orcs themselves, but beer was spilling a lot. For a moment one of the richer looking ones froze as if something was pressing him in the liver (soul resides in the liver, as we all know), but soon he recovered, but it was too late: his companions began to suspect him of cheating (which he was guilty of, by the way).

Aran walked towards the only point of interest in the tavern with his charming face and comforting smile on. Too many men were grouped around the dark elf for his liking, so he emanated small dark energy just enough to make the men close by feel uneasy. When their clamour quited down a bit, he said loud enough for the bartender to hear him, "Bartender! What crime are you committing by leaving this wonderful lady here without a drink! Bring two glasses of your finest wine, and I'm expecting nothing below Charlmen '45s."

The bartender looked at Aran suspiciously, his eyes just barely containing a bit of greed. "And just how are you gonna pay for that?" he said, taking down a dusty wine bottle from a high shelf, where all of the more expensive wines were kept. Dusting it off, he takes out two wine glasses, but waits for Aran's answer before even uncorking the bottle.

The drow woman stayed silent as Aran ordered the wine. Stealthily, she put the coins she had been toying with earlier into her bag. After all, who was she to deny a man the pleasure of buying her something? And a top-of-the-line something, at that.

Aran gave the bartender a pleading look. "Please, don't bore the ladies with your fuss over coins." He threw his pouch full of gold coins at the bartender. "Make sure we stay happy all night long," he said. He drew a chair up close to his lovely drow company, sat down on it comfortably and asked, "So, have I won the honour of knowing your name?"

The bartender expertly weighed the pouch, then nodded. It was enough to at least buy a few hours of the fine wine. He poured each a glass, settling it expertly on the table, then glanced up. He heard orcs beginning to grumble, a sound he severely disliked.

Meanwhile, the pink-haired woman was creeping towards the temple. She saw the severe security and, after that creepy feeling, she wanted to check it out. She reached out her hand to the door.

"Stop right there," a guard snapped from above her head, the two guards still perched on the ledge warily. The woman glanced at them, then grinned wickedly.

Before answering, the drow woman lifted the glass and tasted its contents. She paused a moment after the sip then bowed her head. "Yes, I do believe you've earned it." She swirled the glass, reflecting the wine in her goggles. "Isadora."

Meanwhile, a charming and sexy man appeared in the temple. He grimaces at the still wet blood from the sacrifice, and does his best to step around it and not let anything stain his clothing. He then flashes a winning smile at one of the more attractive monks and heads toward the door.

"No, no, wait!" the head monk declared. "We summoned you, and you have to follow our orders! In the name of Avron, kill those who are against us in the temple of Cocytus!"

"I have a better idea," the man replies, leaning seductively over the attractive monk from before. "How about you follow my orders, just for one night. I promise it'll be worth your while." He grabs the monk's hand and begins sucking on his index finger, quite sexily.

As the attractive monk turned a nice shade of red, the older monk stuttered a bit. "No! We summoned you for a purpose! There's a rule book! If I have to--" He went over to the door, swinging it open. He hadn't taken one stride outside before a slice of red took him down.

"Oh shit, you fucking scared me!" a woman's voice declared from right outside the door. The woman with pink hair held a fan in each hand, one now dripping blood from it's red cloth-colored edge. She looked at the other monks, an almost guilty look crossing the visible side of her face. She had obviously been sneaking about. "What?" she said. "He jumped out of nowhere. His fault, really."

The monks not currently dead or claimed by the summoned champion hastily exited the room from various doors. The woman eyed the champion. "You don't really look like you belong," she pointed out.

The man turns to the pink haired woman, letting go of the attractive monk, who scurries away with the others. "Yes, well, I was not exactly prepared for a summoning. I hate it when they do that. Like I have nothing better to do than just appear whenever they please. Once during this 8-person orgy I-"

"Yeah, yeah-whatever," the woman said, cutting him off. She could feel that he was powerful-it make her face, the part hidden by her hair, throb a bit. But the way he was acting, she wasn't terribly scared of him. Plus, if he was the one who called her in here... She picked up the sacrificial knife and appraised its jeweled handle with a glance, pocketing it. "So, you going to do what they said?" she asked, interested. She had been hiding behind the door a bit longer than she had appeared to.

"Oh no, of course not," he replies without even considering. "I have my own mission to fulfill, the last think I need is a bunch of whiners giving me more chores." He eyes her a bit suspiciously now. "What exactly is someone as sexy as yourself doing in a temple like this?"

"I... don't know," she answered, surprising herself at her own honesty while immodestly failing to deny her own sexiness. "It just felt like one of those things that I should do." She paused before replacing a plate, which looked as if it was gold but was really not. "I'll come with," she declared. "On your mission. I won't say I don't have anything better to do, because I might, but... you smell like money." She grinned semi-wickedly at him. "Plus, a lot of people tend to need my help eventually and while I'm not sure you're one of them, you might be. Every mission needs a healer." She stuck out her hand for him to shake. "Moli, Healer Et Cetera. And you would be...?"

He takes the hand and brings it to his lips. "Luce, the Champion of Avron, at your service." He gently kisses the hand, subtly using a bit of his tongue. "And it would be a pleasure to have your company on my task. Killing people isn't nearly as fun on your own."

"Thank you," Moli says, regarding the kiss but taking back her hand. "Interesting tattoo." She looked about the room, not seeing any more valuables save what was bloodstained and gross. "There's a tavern across the street. I'll pay, and you can outline me on your mission."

He takes her arm in his, escorting her to the tavern. "Beautiful, you don't have to buy me a drink. I'm really easy."

"I'm sure you are," Moli replies. "I'm not." She grins at him, gently removes his arm, and steps into the bustle of the tavern.

The bartender looks up and almost recognizes Moli, but doesn't. He sends a pretty barmaid over, who asks the two if they would prefer a bar or a table; Moli chooses the table, thinking the bartender was a bit too eager for gossip. The two sit down, and Moli leans towards Luce. "So, you were summoned from the fiery pits of Avron himself," she says, smiling mischeviously at her new companion. "What sort of mission would you have? Something to do with Cocytus?"

"Cocytus... not so much. I suppose it depends on how you look at it. My mission is to kill some pretty boy with a generic romantic name." He considers this for a moment. "I wonder if he's a virgin..."

Isadora looked to the newcomers. She could strongly detect the scent of Avron on the man. With one ear, she listened to Aran and dedicated another to try to catch what the two were talking about. If it was Avron business, she felt she had every right to know, just in case she might need it later.

"Oooh, assassination attempt," Moli says, just before the barmaid came back to take their drink order. "I'll have-"

"On me!" the drunk guy from before slurs, having recognized Moli, stumbling his way over. Moli's grin instantly turns into a murderous stare.

"Do you never pass out?!" Moli hisses. Changing her tone, she adds, "I'm with someone!" She grabs Luce's hand and makes a small production of giving Luce a sexy look.

Luce considers the drunken man. "Normally I'd suggest a threesome, but drunken men tend to have difficulties performing." He then takes Moli's touch as an indication that he is allowed to touch her, so he proceeds to caress her thigh under the table.

Moli's eyes whipped open and the hand holding Luce's tightened its grip, nails and all. Moli stands up, glowering a bit at him as she released his hand. "I don't like to be touched," she says, taking a step back.

The drunken man sees her ass right in front of him and takes that as an invitation to grab it. She was slightly less forgiving with him, spinning around and kicking him strongly in the chest. He stumbles backwards and into the orc's poker game, money and cards flying everywhere. Moli adopts a sheepish look, attempting to appear cute, as the orc's expressions become a bit less than friendly. "He grabbed my ass," she explains in a pouty voice.

The orcs all bounced up from their seats as the man came tumbling across their game, and as one they dove to the floor to gather as much of the bets into their own pockets as they could, accompanied by hisses and grunts and the occasional elbowing each other in the eye sockets. Only the richer looking one was keeping out of the mess, looking at Moli and her escort from the shadows. This was a strange evening, he thought to himself as he adjusted his position for a clearer view.

"Hey! What's going on here?" the bartender yelled, as the orcs made for an impressive road block and commotion. The bar was abuzz with curiousity as people from nearby tables leaned to get a better look at what was going on. The drunk man wobbled up, clearly angry, and headed towards Moli. On the way, he stumbled over an orc, landing a spot at another table and spilling some expensive-looking wine.

Isadora jumped up immediately, grabbing the man's neck and slamming his face into the table. "You fucking bloody bloke!" She yelled, upset that the wine had soaked onto her bag.

As the drunk guy recoiled from the table, his face now soaked with blood and in immense pain, another man jumped in a slightly uncoordinated manner. Although he was a bit too drunk to recognize anybody, he seemed to be in a fighting mood, and thus spat, "Put down that guy! He'sh my friend!" He lunged towards Isadora, threateningly. Moli, recognizing that the 'enemy of my enemy is decidingly not my enemy' phrase worked well here, casually stuck out her foot. The man sailed into yet another uninvolved table. One man stood up-and up, and up... He looked down at the involved party, his muscles rippling in extreme annoyance.

The entire evening went downhill from there.

When Moli was finally able to extract herself from the bar brawl, she found herself outside, amazingly intact, with all of her belongings and only a small cut on her jaw to show for her trouble. She straightened her hair a bit and looked back at the bar, waiting.

Aran was more pissed that in the commotion he lost sight of the lovely drow than he lost a good amount of gold in beverage that was not consumed. Still, he enjoyed the brawl, and he might be able to find Isadora later so he composed himself. There wouldn't be any barmaids left after to serve drinks (he couldn't help himself), so he thought best now to leave. As he just left through the door he notices Moli standing outside and stops short.

Isadora became annoyed with the drunken men well below her level. She reached into her now-stained bag and pulls out a small bomb, enough to cause some injury, but mostly as a commotion-stopper. A loud bang and smoke filled the joint, in which Isadora made her exit.

Aran catches Moli's eye as he exits the bar. Upon seeing the man whose expensive-looking booze she indirectly spilled, Moli turns slightly away from him to hide her face, looking off down a nearby alleyway innocently as she inched towards some shadows to wait for her new partner in crime.

Unfortunatly for Moli, bright pink hair isn't that inconspicuous. He didn't blame Moli for his spilt wine, but recognized her as the one who started the brawl and thought it cute that she was trying to hide from it. He started walking towards Moli and says with a smile, "Hey there, that's quite a fight you started back there." He just then notices that Isadora had also made her way out and was now torn between the two ladies.

Luce exits the bar, mumbling something under his breath about the price of his clothing, and attempting to wipe some blood off his cloak. He spies Moli and goes to join her, now noticing another attractive man with her. He smiles charmingly at him.

Rather than join the others, Isadora began to straighten herself up. After her clothes were in order, she adjusted her goggles and fixed her hair. The procedure seemed very methodical, perhaps even ritualistic. When finished, she watched Luce, studying the tattoo.

"Eheheh, thanks," Moli replies to Aran, twirling a thin strand of hair and glancing at Luce. "It was pretty impressive. I don't do anything half-arsed, now do I?" She nods towards Isadora. "That your lady-friend?" She was a bit nervous, but the man did not seem to be accusatory or angry in any way, so she just decided to ride it. Most of her greatest adventures began this way.

Just then, as Luce was closer by and Aran wasn't so absorbed in another process, Aran notices something strange about the other man. Maybe he was linked with what he felt earlier, though he still wasn't sure what it was. He looked at Isadora and she was also staring at tattooed man. Perhaps pleasure turned into business this night. He let loose another charming smile for Isadora and said, "Please, join us."

As usual, Isadora weighed her options, wondering if there was someplace else she should really be. She stood with her hand on her hip, making it look like she really had a lot to decide from before finally stepping forward to be a part of the group. "Is this how you paint the town red...or...should I say pink?" was Isadora's first remark to Moli, indicating the odd hair color.

"Well, it wasn't entirely planned," Moli said, blatantly ignoring the comment about her hair. "I'm... very impromptu." Movement caught her eye, and Moli glanced over to see the first of many slightly bruised, bloody and broken people exiting the bar. "Ah, care to continue this discussion... Away?" she asked, moving in the direction of an inn she had seen previously.

"I've been waiting all night to hear you say that," Luce replies smoothly.

Moli smiles sweetly back at him, still walking. "In case you hadn't noticed, we left the bar with nothing booze-related going into my system," Moli said. "I'm not nearly drunk enough. We'll get separate beds. No, separate rooms." She broke eye contact with him and glared at the inn, instead. "I'd get separate inns if I could," she grumbled under her breath.

"Maybe no alcohol in your system but certainly a lot all over it from the brawl," Aran said with a corner smile, shaking a drenched sleeve. He glanced at Luce and added with a less humourous tone, "So who are you two anyway ..."

"My name is Moli," the pink-haired woman replies, deigning to introduce her companion. "I join adventures as a healer. Any successful adventures need one... Look me up in the future." She winked at Aran. "Currently, though, I'm taken."

"And I am Luce," says the attractive man in the cloak, reaching out and charmingly kissing Aran's hand, shooting him a piercing and seductive look. "Who might you be?"

Fear, doubt and repulsion all ran wildly through Aran's eyes. He quickly withdrew his hand and answered, "Aran, an adventurer currently without and adventure." He got closer to Isadora and put his hands around her waist. "But otherwise currently unavailable," he added, looking into the drow's eyes, hoping she'll go with this if only very temporarily.

"Mm..." said Isadora, catching the meaning in Aran's look. Briefly, she considered how this would benefit her, rather than just tossing out a favor to the man. After all, would playing up to Luce prove beneficial to her, as well? "An adventurer without an adventure," she began, "A healer with no company, and a mercenary currently without a mission. Now I wonder, how do you fit into the picture?" Isadora decided to steer away from the topic of relations, though not exactly removing Aran's hand from her. Stay down the middle so as to keep potential parties in the clear.

Luce turns to Isadora, not phased in the slightest by Aran's reaction. "I am, my beautiful lady, the charming young gentleman that actually has a mission." He reaches for her hand and brings it to his lips, a trademark greeting of his. Looking directly into her eyes, he adds, "And when I say gentleman, that doesn't mean I have to be gentle, if you prefer it rough."

Isadora squinted her eyes and pursed her lips, finding it strange that others insisted looking her in the eyes, eventhough they were hidden by darkened goggles. For all they knew, she may not actually be looking at them. She didn't necessarily dislike Luce, in fact, she found him amusing, and rewarded his comment with a lady-like giggle. "Darling, whether you're gentle or not depends on the moment." Somehow, her own words conjured up a vision of her last mission, a scene that was the exact antonym of 'gentle'. Isadora covered her mouth with her right hand as she let another giggle out for the memory.

Moli's eyes glinted. From her experience, excursions of this sort were more successful if they had more people. Of course, there was usually a limit if each wanted a fair share of the reward, but Moli had long since picked up that Luce had a large goal in mind. If she didn't know any better, Moli'd be willing to bet that he was out to take over the world... With that thought, Moli smiled. "It's interesting that our talk would lead to 'missions.' Luce does have a task at hand, and it seems to me that we'd all benefit from working together," Moli said in a sultry voice, quick to speak without voluntarily giving Luce the chance to contradict her. It was his quest, but Moli was determined to bring more people on board to use as meat shields. "Could you agree that it would be best to join forces?"

Wynkyn shot out of the ruins, followed by some angry orcs. He ran up to the group and behind them, interrupting their conversation with his usual orcish charm. He stopped right behind them, hiding and shouting at the other orcs who had stopped a few feet away, mistaking the fancy group as Wynkyn's friends. "Hah haa!" Wynkyn shouted at them, triumphantly, although still covering behind Luce. "Now whatcha gonna do?" He gloated. The other orcs replied by starting to throw things at Wynkyn and the group.

A shoe almost hit Moli's head, enough to ruffle her hair a bit-which she did not like. With her lips drawn up in a sneer, Moli sidestepped a bit and shoved Wynkyn back in front of the group, using just a tad of black magic to increase her strength. "And why would we help you, orc?" Moli asked. Her hand flipped and a miniature fan sprouted from the chest of the orc that had thrown the shoe-and a notch from her belt was gone in the same instant.

Aran was already in fighting the orcs. He didn't like how he lost his cool just before and how he made a fool of himself in front of a lady, sure he lost her attention for good. He was taking this out fighting the greenskins, putting in some dark energy to make his punches more effective.

Luce attempts to remove himself from the incoming battle. He's already gotten blood on his cloak today, and he'd rather not have to spend the whole night washing it.

Although the group had wandered pretty far from the bar, a bit of motion caught Moli's eye, as she had long backed away from what appeared to be turning into a street brawl. She witnessed three men in long robes stride, almost at a run, into the bar. She recognized the robes as being unique to a smallish, violent cult of Cocytus, one that wasn't well-liked with any of the other temples. Three minutes later, a loud crash accompanied a huge fireball burst from the bar door, drawing everyone's attention. The three men walked calmly out, fire raging up against a shimmering barrier. They stood in the street, acting as though they had accomplished something. The three don't see the group, although with the fight only momentarily paused in shock, it wouldn't stay that way for long.

"Wierd," Moli said, her tone implying she thought it was anything but. "Anybody else get the feeling that was meant for one of us?" She didn't think the entire group was the target... After all, they had just met right then. Although the orcs were pretty violent at the moment and didn't seem very popular, so it could have been for them.

"Could have been." Came Isadora's somewhat distant reply. The drow was already some distance away, her hearing heightened by her elfish ears. It was apparent the new brawl was of no interest to her, and she could honestly leave or take the group. After all, she was a mercenary, and she wasn't getting any money from this brawl. Isadora leaned up against a building some ways off, so as to stay away from the action.

Wynkyn managed Moli's shoving with a semi-graceful somersault, which was interrupted by the explosion. He stood up rigidly and stared at the ruins, certain in his self-centered ways that the explosion was meant for him - maybe he had done something to upset Cocytus again. He glanced at the group and the last orc standing threw a rock that hit him in the back of his head. Suddenly he felt a strange urge; that he shouldn't let these people out of his sight, no matter what. Maybe they could protect him.

Moli used a bit of black magic to make the last orc trip over his own shadow in order to shut him up; unfortunately he happened to fall into a pile of junk. As the stuff clattered to the floor, Moli felt the eyes of the three who had come from the bar lock into her for a second. When she looked over, they were staring at Luce, who was a bit of a distance away but not out of sight, in a strange manner. And then they were running towards the group.

"Oh my," Moli said. "Well, this is the time to decide whether you want to stay with us." She was now talking with everyone that was not her and Luce. "We... what are we doing?" She had sidled up to Luce to ask him the question, curious at this moment. She had a few seconds before the three sorcerers caught up to them.

"I know a safe place and a fast way to get there," Wynkyn said quickly, wanting to impress. Without waiting for any response he whistled loudly, and his steed - a very large goat - trotted from around the corner and stood by him, covering them from view a little. He did a vey slow one plus one in his head and came to the conclusion that they'd need more steeds for the brisk departure they might need. He knelt for a moment to do the summoning, and wished that at least some animals would be near-by. He glanced at the others to see whether they were impressed.

"Leaving here would be a good idea," Luce admits, obviously uncomfortable. "Show us the way, Orc."

Though not exactly caught in the fray, Isadora also understood when the time was to lay low. She reached into her bag, her arm deeper than what would seem physically possible. The drow thought hard, searching for something, before taking her arm out of the bag. A horse emerged from the ridiculously small sack and in the street before her. Isadora hopped on and fell in tow with the group.

More goats were coming towards the group from all directions, small and large. Wynkyn was surprised to see his summoning working so effectively. He grouped some of the goats that were large enough to be ridden, and adviced the smaller ones to advance to meet the sorcerers, to try and stall them. He offered the goats to the others, muttering calmingly to the animals so they wouldn't be afraid or mean, and mounted his own, ready to take off.

Reluctantly, Moli sat upon her goat's back, trying to look as dignified as one can while riding a large goat. "Where do you want us to go?" she asked Luce in a low voice. He looked like leader material-and she didn't want to order about the group in front of him if she was going to be pulling the strings. Or at least, that was the plan.

Luce looks around, havok being wraught everywhere. "I'm through with this town. Next one isn't too far off, let's hit some taverns there."

"Alright for bar-hopping!" Moli laughs. Her goat breaks into a suprisingly quick gallop, Moli trying her best to lead it.

The whole group was caught up in the escape. The three mages stopped as they ran away, their eyes, hidden by cloaks, burning into the group.

It wasn't long before they entered a trail through some light forestry, and not long after that before they entered the village. Although they had been primarily situated in one of the more important cities, there were several outcroppings of civilization not more than a half-hour's ride away. This particular village boasted just one place of worship, dedicated to the Goddess of Destruction, Minas. It seemed to be a lively place, as many lights were still burning and there was more than one group careening drunkenly through the streets.

"Orc!" Called Isadora, "Where exactly did you plan to take us?" She had only been here a time or two - therefore it was rather unfamiliar.

Wynkyn, who had thought they were following Luce, was just as confused to be here, hoping that no one would remember his last visit. This was not his kind of town either, but he didn't want the others to see that. He looked around, trying to spot something, anythingworth spotting. The goats were starting to lose interest in being steeds and were getting restless. "Perhaps..." Wynkyn started, but didn't finish his sentence.

Moli, however, was totally at ease. She hopped off the goat and stretched, actually feeling slightly energized, even though it was pretty late at night. "I say we get drunk enough to not remember anything in the morning," she said, her fondness for alcohol not at all subtle. "Then we talk."

"I like the way this girl thinks!" Luce replies enthusiastically. He sees the nearest bar and heads toward it, leading Moli with him.

Aran was just as enthusiastic to the idea. He was more used to sophisticated parties but he didn't mind at all standing by while female company got trashed; Moli, Isadora or any other woman that might be at the bar. He smiled brightly and followed the other two, "Right behind you."

As Isadora got off her steed, she noticed the others were heading for the tavern. She looked around, unsure of where else she could go, and decided to join the company.

When Moli woke up with a piercing headache, she had two very important questions to answer immediately-one, why the headache? And two-what was she doing on the floor of some strange room?

It took a few seconds before memory answered the first question, but she figured that she'd have to sit up and look around in order to determine the second answer. Moli didn't really feel up to it, so she lay on her back staring at the ceiling a bit, glad her hair covered half of her face even when she had been blackout-drunk. She also felt that her clothes were all still on-a good sign.

Luce pushes the body of a sleeping woman off of himself in order to sit up. He feels a headache coming on, but he's not sure if it's from a hangover or just the awkward position he ended up sleeping in. He realizes with horror that his shirt is missing, but upon seeing it across the room hanging over a light, he relaxes.

Isadora was cradled in the arms of a chair in the corner of the room. She saw the sun through a window and hid her face, not in the mood to be up and about. It's not like she had been given a task. She hoped the others would also stay quiet and sleepy to allow her some time to fall asleep once more.

Wynkyn's mind woke up before his body did. His thoughts were racing, trying to focus on either the moment at hand - where was he? -, or to the events of last night - how did he get here? Unfortunately neither was working very well, since he couldn't remember the latter, and wasn't yet in a state of investigating the former. Bits and pieces of last night were coming back to him, images mainly, of bars, drinks, beautiful women - well, women at least -, men chasing them, goats, more drinks, floorboards raising up from the floor to meet his body... Nothing coherent. He opened his eye, but the light was too painful so he closed it again. "Hhnngggh?" He asked.

The door opened suddenly and loudly, Aran stepping inside, beaming, "Good morning everyone! Sun is shining warmly in its noon position I thought it would be a good time to wake the lot of you up. Slept soundly I hope?" He started prodding a few people on the floor with his feet to incite them to wake up faster. He was up and energetic, so should they.

"To Hell with you," Moli snarled at Aran, dodging his foot, tempted to take it with her as a trophy. Then she realized something-noon? A memory of people attacking them conveniently resurfaced, and she scrambled up. They could return any moment, or they could have given up... Better safe than sorry. "We had better go."

Luce enters through the same door as Aran, his hair in disarray and his shirt only half buttoned. He smiles charmingly as ever at both Aran and Moli. "Well that was a great way to start this trip," he says.

In a nearly blind fashion, Isadora felt around the table by her chair for her goggles. She kept her eyes shut hard until she finally put the goggles on and fastened them. Daylight was certainly difficult for her to handle, and she avoided being in sunlight if possible. "Go? Go where?" Isadora swung her legs from the arms of the chair to the front. "I mean, do we even have somewhere to be?"

"Well, a tavern, obviously," Luce replies. "Somewhere dark and shady, where we can conduct some shady business."

"Yeah," Moli agreed, her headache catching up to her in a twinge. "Plus, the light is too loud." She was perfectly willing to go somewhere quiet-at noon, a tavern isn't too rowdy-and get this group coordinated. Man, she thought, after a pause; I must really be bored. This is taking more effort than I usually make.

"Food," Wynkyn growled from his corner, scratching himself. He was about to begin his morning ritual in honour of Cocytus when he remembered his companions. They probably couldn't be trusted to be in the presence of such important ritual without some punishment, he thought, but wasn't sure if they should be punished by him right away or if he just should leave the ritual for later.

Isadora stood up and stretched her right arm. "Well then, off to get some alchie in before it's too late to be acceptable."

The group's entrance into the bar was hardly noticed; the regular crowd was just there for socialization and maybe a few beers for those who worked through the night. A larger crowd had begun to gather about a particular table, but it didn't seem very important.

Isadora sat down at a table, showing a little interest in the table gathering a crowd.

Wynkyn proceeded to order some food for all of them, not caring who would pay for it.

Moli was walking towards the table when she felt power itch over her face. It was subtle; she wouldn't have felt it at all if she hadn't studied magic, or been a girl of a Goddess. Her attention thus gathered, she managed to hear a few choice words: 'gold' and 'suicide.' She slipped off to the table. The crowd parted for her, just slightly, and she disappeared for a second. She nudged her way back out and headed towards her group. "Luce, guys," she said. "You might want to come see this."

The small crowd gathered at the table, after some of them stared after Moli, heard this and burst into conversation. They parted for the group pre-emptively, and glimpses of the table showed through the crowd... It looked empty. Save a smallish, round ball on the table, next to a large sack, there was nobody there.

Aran's curiosity was picked. He got up from his chair and walked to the gathered crowd. He wanted to move to the front of the circle but pushing people around wasn't his strength, so he addopted a semi-wraith form that made squeazing through much more easier. Of course it also gave him quite an eerie look but he didn't care about commoners' opinion right now. Once up front he went back to normal to analyse more attentively the mysterious object.

Aran could see now that the ball was made of glass, or crystal-some clear substance. Inside of it there was a figure, distorted by imprefections in the glass and the shadows of the tavern. The person in the ball seemed to be staring at Aran, as if waiting for the rest of the group to come-like it already knew about them.

"This here person's got a quest," somebody said to Moli in hushed tones. "Too much money for one trip, we thought-but where they were goin', it wasn't enough. Not for dying. Still, a lot of gold."

Luce too goes to check out what the crowd has gathered for. As he pushes his way to the front to get a good view, he gropes a few people along the way, including both Moli and Aran. "What is this?" he asks casually about the ball.

"Maybe I can answer that," the figure said, now that the group had gathered. The people of the tavern were right around them, pressing in. Moli elbowed a few ribs to back people up, making sure to step hard enough on the foot of the person she thought had groped her to hear a resounding 'crack' as a toe broke. He yelped and withdrew; the rest stayed.

"I need you to transport a scroll. I'm willing to pay all the gold in the sack up front, with an equal payment upon delivery." The figure stopped, as if waiting to hear the reaction. The sack was pretty damn big.

The instant Isadora heard money was involved, she got up from her own table and made her way to the occupied one. Being taller than Moli, she was not as easily ignored, and shoved people aside as she saw fit. "Let's go somewhere private." She said to the figure, used to dealing with mission details somewhere secluded.

Aran turned to face the others with a jaunty smile, shrugged his shoulders in a 'Heck, why not?' fashion and said, "Sounds easy."

Wynkyn had also risen from the table and listened intently; he couldn't see past the crowd very well, for some strange reason people weren't very eager to make room for him. He agreed with Aran - it was almost too easy. More like a job for mules than normal adventurers. Except of course mules didn't want all that gold, Wynkyn did.

At Isadora's suggestion, the figure raised a hand-that much was clear-and waved it a bit. The crowd around the adventure group suddenly grew bored with the quest, thinning out and going to their own tables. Soon, they were not alone, but anybody near them was clearly not listening. "A disinterest spell," Moli noted. It was pure luck she knew what it was-her speciality was in healing. If the certain white magic master hadn't used it so often on Moli, she would never even have heard of it. It wasn't difficult to perform, just not very well known.

The figure didn't seem to care that Moli knew exactly what it had done. "Inside the sack is the scroll and a map to your destination," he said-the voice was definitely male. "You'll be delivering it to the supposed refuge of William Masonek, upon Mount Kinte. Knowledge of his whereabouts is confidential, and unauthorized release of that knowledge is punishable by death."

"Mount Kinte?" Moli asked. "Jeez, could he choose a more dangerous spot to build a refuge on?"

A dragon's innards came to Aran's mind, but didn't let it out. "Cool, Moli knows the way, so we're set then?" He reached for the sac of gold to feel its weight.

Luce grabs the sac of gold before Aran can get to it. "As the unofficial leader of this group, I think I should get to hold on to this for safekeeping." In an attempt to change the subject quickly, he turns to Moli. "Lead the way, Beautiful."

Moli gave Luce a skeptical look. "Well, first I'd lead us to a nearby shop where we can get supplies," she said. "For example... you might want armor." She indicated his utter lack of visible protection. "Weapons, maybe. Food. Enough to last us a while. Food is good. Essential, and all that. You might have to spend some of the money."

"So I take if you accept the quest?" the figure in the globe said. "Excellent. I'll leave you to it-it's self-explanatory." The globe began to collapse back into itself until it had disappeared.

"Man, how did it do that?" Moli asked, staring at where the globe had been. "Teleportation? So why don't they just use that on their precious scroll?"

Isadora folded her arms in front of her chest, pursing her lips just-so, "I never elected you for our leader." She furrowed her brow, "Should the one in charge really be some lust-driven full-of-himself swinger?"

Wynkyn flinched a little before realising that this time he wasn't referred to. He did agree with Isadora about maybe not letting Luce lead, but didn't see anyone else who would be any better. He didn't trust women to manage the pressures of leadership.

"That's why I reached for the bag of gold first." and Aran reached for it again. He mostly found amusing confronting Luce about his leadership and was just playing along.

Frowning, Moli was conflicted about whether or not to interfere. Isadora wouldn't be as easy to... 'suggest' things to. Besides, she knew Luce was the Champion of Avron, or at least that he thought so. She could feel his power. It would just seem silly if he were to follow someone else's orders. She gave him a look telling him to inform the whole group of the matter.

"You don't have to come along if you don't want to," Luce replies to Isadora. He pulls the bag protectively close to himself. "But I'm the one with the quest, the reason you all decided to stay together in the first place. Therefore, I am the logical leader. Especially since I haven't even told the rest of you what my quest is."

"Let me guess..." Isadora put a finger on her chin in a mocking way, "Something to do with our Avron, little champion?" She gave him a look that would be best described as I-know-it-all.

Wynkyn flinched again, and then tried to give himself a mental sticky-note to not be so jumpy. But the idea that he'd go himself following Avron's quest was making his "religious ethics" wiggle uncomfortably. He would have started to analyse the situation to find out the best course of action for dropping out of the group had he been that kind of thinking person. no, he saw the situation more as damnit what have I gotten into - ah well, I have to see it through now, don't it, and ty to avoid the consequences when they come. "He does have a point," Wynkyn said. "First come first serve, he's holding the quest now," he continued, referring to the bag.

Isadora put a hand on her hip. She knew she was overruled, and it overly annoyed her. Usually, she never took orders unless she was paid to do so, and even then she was given a task, but was under no rule of a 'leader.' She even looked to Aran, shaking her head; they weren't exactly 'comrades' before, but they had shared wine, which was just as good as comradery for the time spent. "Fine. But I want my fair share of the pay-off, and I want it in writing."

Aran felt his cloths. He never had anything on him except gold coins. "Anybody have pen, paper and something sharp?"

"We can get something from the innkeeper," Moli said. "But I sign no contracts in blood. Let's keep it legitimate in the normal sense. People sign with ink and are happy."

"Deal." Isadora reached into her bag and pulled out her usual contract. She looked it over and frowned. "Hmm, yes we should go to the Innkeeper. My contract makes no sense in this context." She shoved it back into her bag and walked towards the door. Most of her contracts dealt mostly with power and just some money.

Aran followed Isadora, but gave Moli a quick, weird look before. He had never signed a contract with anything else but blood. What's so binding in signing if you don't use your own blood?

Moli was with the group as they reached the front of the inn. She was glad nobody was talking more about signing in blood-she had a bad experience. Blood contracts were good up until the point she wanted to bail but couldn't. She never had the attention span to read fine print and she wanted a way to bail before having to give up something vital. Again. She collected a handful of sheets of parchment and a pen from the innkeeper. "Let's do this," she said.

Luce takes a seat at a table in front of the parchment and pens. He is clearly pouting. "Do we have to?" he whines.

Wynkyn glanced at Luce. He doesn't want to sign... he thought, and began having second thoughts of Luce being leader. "What's the matter," he asked Luce, taking a seat too, "can't read?" Or don't you trust us, he added in his mind.

Luce answers the question with a glare, but says nothing.

Aran sat down with a wide smile, but he tried not to look directly at Luce. He was looking forward to a big X mark where the champion's name should be.

A grin crept across Isadora's face for Wynkyn's jab. "Yes, we have to, this way, we can make sure everyone gets what they want." She used her right hand to smack a sheet of paper and drag it across the table to where she was sitting.

Under an hour, they had a very suitable agreement. Of course, Luce had to explain everything, at least most of it. They knew he had some sort of deal with Avron, and the main goal was to kill William Masonek. The quest, it boiled down to, was not to be completed until William died. The others would lend their help. The treasure, including payment and whatever they found along the way, would be divided equally amongst themselves. Moli wanted any sort of items, spells, or potions that dealt with light or dark magic, her specialities. Isadora managed to get into the contract a clause stating that Avron would increase her natural power upon completion of the quest, although by how much was unstated-Avron did like to reward his followers, but if she asked for too much, unpleasant things might happen under such an assumption of his generosity. Useful items were to be divided upon finding, and all the other clauses dealt with normal adventure-type things, like their roles in the group, food rations, et cetera. Except...

"I refuse to put that in there," Moli argued. "'If something goes horribly wrong and we're all going to die or the world is going to end in 10 minutes, everyone agrees to have sex with Luce.' Just... no."

"Oh, come on," Luce says. "What've you got to lose? I mean, it's not like you won't be allowed to have sex with me in non-life threatening circumstances..."

"The only contractual physical contact you'll get from me in this trip is if you need healing," Moli replies. "The rest is non-obligatory. That means optional, by the way," she added, making her point by signing her name on the bottom of the contract.

Luce sighs with irritation, but gives up the point. There's still a good chance he'll get some action on this quest anyways, and he finds comfort in knowing that he's the official leader of the group. He signs his name alongside Moli's. For those who care to look, he signs his full given name, in neat yet slanted cursive (he's vain, not illiterate).

As was custom, Isadora looked over the contract eventhough she knew exactly what it contained. Then, she signed her name: Stylistic, yet not as showy as Luce's signature.

Wynkyn inched away from Luce at his remarks of wanting to have sex with them, and then signed the contract after Isadora. He leant back on the chair, looking around at everyone with a triumphant smirk. They were now officially his friends and he had the contract to prove it.

Aran scribbled his name lastly. "Great, now that the theatrics are over we can get down to real business." Apparently he did not give much importance to this contract signed in ink.

"Right," Moli said, pocketing her copy of the contract into her bag. "We'll leave today, so let's get supplies."

The group got the usual gear for a journey and a horse on which to carry it all. The horse was a rental, basically, and had actually been trained for adventurer's quests, so it required minimal care. They had gotten those who wanted it some armor, and a few weapons for whoever needed one. Other than that, they limited their purchases.

They must have all been in a hurry to get underway, because within the hour they were off.

---

---

After a while, the group had reached the beginning of the mountains-not saying much, because they were only a few hours away from the town they had just left. But to some of the group, it seemed like it had taken forever.

"Why didn't we do this quest in spring sometime?" Moli grumbled, patting her clothes. "It's so dusty." Of course, it was also hot, but in a few moments it was obvious that there was another reason.

The group rounded the corner of a giant outcropping of rock and stopped short. Over a few miles of forests, there was just the tip of a castle, and a giant plume of smoke rose from around the building. Everything they could see over the tips of the trees was at least singed, save for most of the stone castle.

"How quaint." commented Isadora, staring at the burning area. "and I assume that's our destination?"

"Nope," Moli said. "We're still at least a day's travels from even being close to our destination. That," she said, pointing at the burning castle, "is a small town I liked to visit. They were decidingly neutral in all aspects of politics, so they didn't spend money on wars or squabbles. Which doesn't explain why they're on fire, but does explain why I'm itching to get over there." Moli looked at her group members, her eyes glittering in an unusual fashion. "I say we loot the place. It hoarded some serious treasure, back in the day, and help isn't going to come anytime soon. Whatever attacked it isn't an army, or we would have found them by now, and the occupants probably are just taking what they can carry and leaving. That leaves a lot of silver behind... if it isn't melted."

"I like the way you think, Pinky." Isadora said, walking ahead of the group now. "Well, come on!"

Luce makes a face at this idea. He doesn't like the idea of getting his robes dirty, which he's sure will happen in the smokey fire. But the girls are already off before he can protest or even point out that he's the leader of the group. He sighs and follows. Maybe there will be a lost and confused peasant in need of his strong arms and penis to comfort.

They weren't but a half-mile from the burned village when a lost, confused-looking peasant woman stumbled in their path. Her face had the glazed look of shock. Her clothes were singed, but not unrecognizable-she had rather nice clothes, but not nice enough for nobility, which meant she was probably a maid. Moli's sharp eyes noticed the small designs that repeated on her outfit and recognized them as the ensigna of the court. Dollar signs went off above her head. "Oh you poor baby!" Moli said, placing a hand on the maid's shoulder, which was both comforting and helping to keep the dirty girl far enough away that she didn't get her clothes dirty. "Are you alright?"

The young lady's large, blue eyes filled with tears. "Are you here to help?" she asked. Aside from one cheek that was slightly smudged with ash, it was obvious that she was a very pretty girl. Her rich brown hair was still mostly tucked into the hat that went with her uniform, but strands of it had escaped, and brushed against her face.

Luce's eyes also light up. He mutters a quick thanks to Avron, and then approaches the woman, all chivarly and heroism in his manner. "Of course we're here to help." He brushes the stray hair out of her face, his hand lightly caressing her cheek, and he locks her gaze with his seductive eyes. "What exactly do you need?"

The girl gives that look that Luce must be used to, the one where they're suddenly much too distracted to properly talk. "I... There might still be people in the castle... er... trapped..."

"Then we must go to the castle," Moli said, pleased at the way this was going. "Do you know a way in?"

"Of course," the girl said, swooning a little, still staring at Luce. "I... used to work there..."

"Perfect."

Wynkyn had been too busy fidgeting with eagerness to go search the village ruins to pay any attention to the discussion at hand. The smoke in the air smelled inviting to him. He threw a quick glance at the girl Luce was entertaining and went back to fidgetting.

"You just leave everything to us," Luce says soothingly, putting an arm around the girl. He leads her over to a slightly secluded place, not because he'd be embarrassed to be seen, but because he feels that people who want to watch him in action should at least pay him for the service.

"Alright, let's loot the houses," Moli said once she figured the two were far enough away, not that she thought the girl would be listening. "After Luce gets laid, we can use the chick to get inside the castle for a final sweep." Moli talks like she knows what she's doing-which she might. She has already spotted some larger houses of nobility, which she thinks might have more treasure than the castle itself. The noble's she's known were more into hoarding stuff.

Not worried, just curious, Aran wonders what caused the fire in the first place. He's hoping it's something they can fight which could make things more interesting than they were. He grins at the thought of a big dragon but then he's not so sure he wants to fight something that might be so hard. He joins the others in the pillaging.

Isadora had already began to rummage through the debris of the closest shop, entering through a broken window. Sifting with her foot, she turned over what she guessed was a small part of the wall to reveal some scattered coins, probably former belongings of the nearby body. The drow sighed as she picked up the small change, thinking it was hardly worth it. Isadora walked over to a shelf and ate some food that were relatively unscathed from the mysterious tragedy. Stepping out through the window again, Isadora joined the group.

Moli immediately heads towards a house of nobility, grinning as she stepped through the frame of a window that had obviously shattered in the heat, the walls still standing. It didn't take her long to find the most random hiding spots. "In the pillows!" she exclaimed, laughing as she emerged with a diamond ring and a few bracelets from what looked to have been a charred pillow. "Man, these people are freaking paranoid!"

Luce emerges with the girl from before, their clothing slightly disarrayed. "Now, where is the castle of this beautiful little town?" he asks, his voice oozing sweetness. "It is very important that those who run this place are well taken care of."

The girl giggled, almost a different person than the confused maid of before. "Yes," she said, brightening up. "There might be people alive in the castle."

Holding onto Luce's arm, she led them to the center of the village, where the castle stood. "We have to go around to the servant's quarters," she explained as she led them away from the main entrance. "The rest is probably locked up... At least I have the keys to this door." Moli smiled to herself, hiding it behind a fan. At least the girl wasn't useless.

Moli cast a look around, casually wondering what had caused the fire as the girl fumbled with her keys. She'd ask the girl if she cared enough; she had a feeling it was just looting gangs or rogues hiding in the forest, and maybe an army. Moli never really paid attention to politics, so she wouldn't know about a brewing war or any other such nonsense.

Luce also wonders the cause of the fire, but unlike the others, actually bothers to ask. "So, how did this dreadful fire come about?"

The girl's mouth quickly became a straight line. She looked away, becoming distant. "It doesn't matter," she mutters, the door finally swinging inwards. "They're all gone anyway."

Moli sighs and walks past the girl. "Stay out of my way," she says to the girl, harshly. "If you want to be useful, that is."

Isadora also brushed past the girl. "Everyone has a usefulness...it's just whether or not they've outlived theirs." She looked askance at the girl as she passed before looking ahead to Moli.

Moli looked at the hallways. There were no tapestries covering the walls, and there was evidence that they had been burned off of the stone. However, the stone was left untouched, without even a scorch mark. Moli didn't bother to process this, instead griping internally that the lack of tapestries made the castle about ten degrees lower than she was comfortable with. She subtly crossed her arms. "Alright, people, first-come, first serve," she said, grinning and heading straight towards where she thought the personal quarters would be located.

"Agreed." came Isadora's reply. She, too, began to make her way to the rooms where she thought the most cherished and expensive things would be kept. She was no novice.

Wynkyn had followed the group into the castle, unsure of what had happend between Luce and the maid, but then again he probably didn't want to know either. He kept within earshot and eyesight while he wandered the halls and peaked into the rooms in search of something useful - he knew he wasn't everybody's favourite person and didn't want to get ditched.

Aran was going through the rooms aswell, but maybe not as enthused as some others. He was more pondering over who had cause the fire, where they had gone, and why would they leave any loot behind if they go to the trouble of burning everything. Aran kept an eye out for any other servants who might give a clue.

Entering into the first room, Moli immediately hit jackpot. There was a pile of stones on the floor, and even at first glance she could tell they were valuable. She scooped a few up and stopped, frowning. They were the sort of things a lady would wear-necklaces, earrings, and more than a few rings... all just fallen to the floor. Weirder still, a few of the gems were free-standing, although they looked like they had been part of a dress. Moli looked up to see that the stone directly above her was black with smoke. She slowly put the valuables into her purse, thinking hard at this point.

Luce enters the room after Moli, staring at all the gems. The village girl is no longer with him, as they are now done using her. He gave her a lie about having an important mission and promised to write. He spies the dark gem near Moli. "Now, what have we here? This is a bit strange."

"Yeah," Moli said, frowning at the smoked stone ceiling. "I just found a pile of stones that looked as though... well, as though the woman wearing them just disappeared into thin air." She picked up the remaining gemstone. "I feel like this is familiar, like something I've heard before, but I honestly can't remember."

In a nearby room Isadora also discovered some priceless jewels, their owners oddly vacant, as though they, too, had vanished into thin air. "How terribly unfortunate...for them." said the drow, inspecting a rather large ruby.

Up ahead of the group, a door is slightly ajar. From within the door, a small light shines, and if one was to listen closely, there is a small shuffling sound.

Isadora's long ears twitched and pricked, interupting her inspection. Freezing entirely, she listened further to focus in on the sound. Swiftly and silently, the drow left her current room and back out into the hallway. She spotted the light and moved forward slowly: she was not afraid, if there was anything in there, she would rather startle it than prepare it for her coming.

Aran had wandered into a darker room of the castle, and felt around for some light. He found a candle holder, but no candle in it. He looked outside in the hallway for a torch, and found only empty torch holders ... It felt very strange to him, but before he could give it much thought he noticed Isadora sneaking towards room. He crept out of his room to see what she was up to, and then noticed the light inside the room himself.

Wynkyn poked his head into the room where Luce and Moli stood, and looked around. "How boring" he commented before disappearing again, going down the hallway to peek into other rooms. He hadn't managed to find anything interesting, only ashes and dirt and the odd useless piece of twisted metal.

Luce spies the door as well. "The plot thickens," he says, joining Isadora on her creep up toward the light.

The drow looked behind her, raising an eyebrow at the followers. Isadora turned her head back towards the door and put her hand on it, gently pushing it open completely.

Moli comes up on the two just in time to be able to peer in with the rest of them.

Inside the room, a giant, three-foot salamander hugged the ground, turned away from them. The animal was like a live coal, bright, glowing red and black at intermittant points. On the tail, however, a large flame grew, crackling as it burned a foot into the air. The salamander turned. It had no teeth, but its eyes were another shade of red altogether.

"Fire salamander," Moli said in a release of breath, jumping back. "Don't touch it. Not the tail."

"No duh." retorted Isadora, taking a step backwards.

"If you catch on fire... It burns through organic things," Moli explained, looking around and finding a long metal candlestick holder. She picked it up, gripping it with both hands. "It can't be put out easily. At least it can be injured."

Aran was bracing himself for confrontation, though he wasn't sure how to take on such a create. He might be able to channel cold, but it would never powerful enough to bother a fire creature like that salamander. Aran kept watch for any sign of hositility, and asked, "What would it be doing here anyway?"

Wynkyn regrouped with the others and saw the salamander. "Oh no, you're not tricking me into doing any of that disgusting water magic stuff," he blurted out, forgetting that his companions didn't know of his water magic inheritance. "I refuse," he declared like a child about to be forced to eat broccoli.

Moli blinked at Wynkyn, surprised at his admittance, and then swung the candlestick holder towards Wynkyn, brandishing it under his chin. "You have water magic? Good. Use it, or you'll be wishing..."

The salamander twitched at the sudden movement of Moli and coiled itself to attack, leaping through the air. Moli swung the thick metal pole back towards the creature, slamming it back towards the other side of the room with a solid thump. "Good news!" she said, panting. "It's lighter than it looks."

The salamander hisses, its left foreleg injured.

Luce is noticably worried. He slowly backs away from the room. "I think you guys can handle this little lizard without me, so I'm just gonna go gather up the rest of those gems..."

"You pigeon-hearted whelp!" Isadora's head shot back towards Luce. She couldn't stand these up and coming villains. All they could do was talk about power beyond any measure, but any sign of danger they flee like blind, suckling kittens. "Live and let live bastards." grumbled Isadora, turning back to the salamander. The drow rummaged through her bag, in search of something useful.

Aran channeled chill and feelings of dread and nausea towards the salamander, in hopes of gaining time for the group to form a proper assault. He did not want to keep his front for long as it was costing him much energy.

Wynkyn flinced at the approaching candlestick-held salamander and yelped "get it away" and waved his hands a little. As the lizard was forced to the other side of the room, Wynkyn relaxed and was able to regain his composure. Even he admitted that they needed to get rid of the creature. "Fine, let me think... something like a watery weapon..." He focused his energy to think of a Blade of Water or something that he could give to Moli to fight the creature with, but they all failed: the closest he got was managing a whirlpool of water around his own natural weapons, fists. He shuddered at the thought of having to touch the disgusting little thing, hoping that someone else would be able to kill it from a distance, but all the same ready to strike it with his water-covered hands if it came closer.

The salamander hissed once more at the group, trying to scare them off. It was feeling the effects of Aran and wanted out of the room. It started keening at the group, flame on its tail flaring up in self-defense, a wild animal caught in the corner.

Moli backed up. "Maybe Luce has the better idea," Moli said. "For all the wrong reasons, of course... If we get out of its way, it might not attack." She was worried about the sound it was emmitting--it was rather loud, and this small fire salamander probably wasn't the only one in the castle. She also wasn't too keen on burning alive.

In Isadora's grasp, deep inside her bag, was a water gem. She knew that if she indeed had to fight, it was her only water-based weapon at her disposal. Yes, she could try to fasten it to a sword, but...that may compromise the quality of the gem itself... thought Isadora. As a Mercenary and self-proclaimed Treasure Admirer, she simply could not allow that. The drow shook her head, "Unfortunately..." she began, jerking her head towards Moli, "Pink here may be right. The Larva isn't worth it, and we've got more important things to...take care of." Like pilfering. she finished silently. The hand inside the bag dropped the water gem, and Isadora took another step back.

Wynkyn also backed down a few steps towards Moli and Isadora. "So should we just... close the door and trap it inside?" He asked wavering, not taking his eye off the salamander.

Aran gave an annnoyed grunt. He stopped channeling his magic and closed the door hastily. Resting his back on it, he frowned, and asked, "Wouldn't we rather finish it here quickly rather than have it regroup with the others?"

Wynkyn turned sharply to look at Aran, and as he lost his focus his watery fist sploched to the floor. "Others? What others?! How many are there?" He asked with panic creeping to his voice. All of a sudden he felt a lot less inclined to loot the castle.

"Shut up, Orc," Moli said half-heartedly. The keening noise from inside the room had stopped. "I'm not much of an expert on these things," she admitted. "If it does get out of the room, it might seek its own kind... assuming there are any," she added hastily. Not that she believed in the slightest that one fire salamander could do this much damage to a town when it couldn't even handle a small group of people. "I don't know if it would hunt us down. I don't know how aggressive these things are."

"Anything fire-based is prone to an explosive temperament." Said Isadora, "But unless we really anger it, I would think that it wouldn't have any reason to track." Again, her hand set forth inside her bag, producing what appeared to be a large handful of what could be called bombs. "And if, for some reason, it is a hunter..." She set the bombs on the ground before Wynkyn, "the orc can put a bit of water magic, if he's capable, into these. We'll close the door and line them up against it. If the Salamander tries to burst through it, these little bundles of joy are set for contact. They'll immediately explode, somewhat injuring the Salamander." Isadora placed her hands on her hips, then gave a shrug, "Unless you have some other plan up your sleeves."

"Good enough for me. So we trap this one in the room," Moli agreed, not coming up with a better plan and not really wanting to. "Then we take the most direct route out of here." Moli paused, then added in spite of herself, "looting on the way but not taking too much time doing so. Alright?"

The sound of a plan released most of Aran's irritation. "Alright," he answered, then added, "I'm kind of disappointed though that no one is taking over this empty castle and the surrounding lands. It's just begging for a new ruler." He added, as an after thought, "But I guess staying alive is much more interesting ... for now."

Wynkyn begrudgingly knelt to enchant the bombs to explode water. He finished with a snort of annoyance and stood up, edging to get moving.

Luce is already several steps ahead of the rest of the group, and thus hasn't heard the new plan to leave. He has busied himself with gathering the prettier gems.

"Taking over is a much more thankless job than you would think," Moli was saying to Aran as they passed Luce. Moli little more than glanced at him. "Especially if the place you are planning on taking over is currently inhabited by fire salamanders." She was still holding onto the candle holder, as it was the best weapon she had in this situation. She spotted a hallway that they hadn't gone down, and assumed it was leading to the main door out. "Shall we?" Moli asked, pointing down it.

"Besides," chimed in Isadora, "I'm a mercenary, not a dictator. I leave the ruling in other peoples' hands. I leave it up to them to pay me." Isadora ventured down the hallway indicated by Moli.

---

Evil is Sexy
I am Sexy
Therefore, I am Evil