Snakebreaker

Odius finished his twirling and looked dazed around him. It seemed the three backed out from battle, looking violently at him. These people, they really didn't want his kind in this town. It didn't matter how this was going to go. Even if he were to defeat these three, more and more would come. He would just slaughter constant seekers and the result would lead to nothing. It meant leaving this place but what other choice was there?
"Fine, I will be going." He finally said, a hint of annoyance finally showing in his tone while putting his blade back into the sheath. Having to leave Mitch and the others was a hefty fine, but he would find a way to return.
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While the altercation between Odius and the trio of keepers did command a wide berth from the townspeople, if wasn't as if no one had dared to watch, even if they chose to remain at a distance or hidden in a building. One had to remember that among these people were those that had dared to take a stand against a dragon, though most either fled or were ignorant of the possible danger. Furthermore, fights like these were an unspoken source of entertainment for the Crucible Town. If you missed out on an event like this, what would you have to talk about at the end of the day?

Amidst these spectators with varying amounts of subtlety, there was someone that the one known as Odius might recognize. A tall and lanky hobgoblin knelt awkwardly against an unmanned trinket stand, but his feral visage and maroon red skin gave him a distinct appearance that made any attempt to remain inconspicuous futile. A craggy shrill voice called out to Odius as the hobgoblin arose from his substandard hiding spot. "You can't leave. The Crucible still requires your aid."
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In the moment Odius was attempting to walk out the gate, he spotted a strange individual of red skin speak to him. To be forced to leave and then to be called out to from the crevice of the wall. Another stranger wanting to bother him for some apparent reason. Odius turned to the creature with hand to hilt, blankly looking to the hobgoblin. "I have been bothered plenty today. I no longer want to partake in silly games." He stared coldly at the creature, yet saw a genuine concern in their eyes.

If this person was true that Crucible needed help from someone that couldn't be accomplished from the Seekers, he would be more than happy to ignore authority figures and commit to an individual sense of justice.
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The Hobgoblin's necklace of softly shimmering black teeth jingled at his light sniggering. Having Odius's attention made him markedly pleased. With zeal the hobgoblin spoke, a level of certainty in his voice.

"The Keeper's intentions are praiseworthy, but misguided. The threats to our livelihood do not lie solely with the undead; Turning our blades against the ones that promise to cleanse the plagues of lost souls like mine is an act that only seeks our own destruction."
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Odius stared blankly at the person for a long moment, carefully thinking of his response. When the hobgoblin made no noticeable movement worth reacting to, his hands rested to their sides. "I don't know much about this world nor my existence in it. I just wish to keep all forms of peaceful life preserved. I have to. I don't like to experience prejudice, but I don't care so long as my goal is achieved."
Odius stepped someone closer to the hobgoblin to give his full attention. "If you have any need or require help, I will be sure to help at the first second of request. I have enough strength to attempt to bring purity to all."
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The hobgoblin's fierce maw curved upwards, giving a gratified smile. Bowing, he introduced himself. "My name is Cranston Windfall. I have traveled these lands for years and have witnessed the fears of man. Please allow this lowly one to lead you to our..." He paused, looking for a word. "Afflicted."
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Odius raised a confused brow trying to think over the offer being presented to him. From the wording, it seemed like he was asking for a healer. He scratched at his head while thinking of why exactly this man would go to him of all people for healing. Still, that's fine.  If it meant giving aid to people, Odius was willing to lend it.
"Alright, I will attend to your ill and wounded. Fighting for me is not always pleasant."
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As the day wore on, the town's tavern became busy with life. Many desired to fill their stomachs and likely thought to have a good time doing so too. A group of 7 or 8 at the bar counter grew rowdy as time continued to pass by. However their source of discontent didn't come from bad or slow barkeep service, but because they sat idly, awaiting for the arrival of a certain someone.

"Tsk. Where's that friend of yours, Leshandro? Didn't you say he'd be treating us today? Did he decide his coffers were too tight to show?" asked a broad-shouldered woman in complaint. Straddled atop a bar stool, the woman leisurely reclined against the counter and faced the party. One might not say she possessed good looks, but her crude demeanor combined with the disheveled state of her dark curly hair and golden brown skin granted her a sort of natural charm. Though that charm fought to penetrate the layer of dirt and greenery that coated her person, fresh from an eight week excursion from the local Dagwood forest.

Sitting beside her, a long eared man who resembled a black starless night reprimandingly shook a pair of bright white marble rattles as he answered, his voice soothing. "Sister Mu, patience is the key to longevity. Brother Cranston said he would arrive as soon as he possibly could with that person he spoke so highly of. I trust him to keep to his word."

An agreeable looking pair of halfling and skaven at a table not far away nodded their heads to Leshandro's words. Neighboring them, a middle aged couple anxiously hugged a small figure between them, the figure's features concealed by a large patchwork cloak. "My family can't spend much more time here," the father confessed, scanning the tavern's occupants with an uneasy gaze yet again.

Around this time, a tall red hobgoblin pushed the tavern's doors open, excitedly storming in, his gait having a slight limp. Earlier, to avoid Keeper attention, Cranston had taken Odius on a roundabout trip through the town on the way to the tavern; They trekked through alleys, back roads, and even took a detour inside some poor guy's home (to said guy's surprise) before they finally arrived.

Impatient to get to the meat of the matter, the jubilant hobgoblin spoke over Leshandro's words of welcome, introducing the bunch with haste. The halfling and skaven duo were revealed to be Ori and Wraster, and the couple as Robert and Glorida of the Lainen family. As well as the night elf, Leshandro, and the dirty woman, Mu. Yet Cranston made no mention of the figure huddled in the family's arms, though he shot them a curious eye.
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Odius stepped through the tavern along with Cranston as they went inside. It had been some time and they took a bit of a journey just to get here. Not to mention what exactly Odius was required for wasn't specified. The only thing he knew was being brought for some reason to attempt 'good'. An anxious feeling deep down his numbness wanted him to find out who these curious people were or why they even came to him.
The young undead set his hand on the hobgoblins shoulder after strolling a few steps inside; his blank expression tried to convey confusion. "Cranston, you said there were people that you wanted me to heal. I can't understand why we are in a bar then." Teh chains rattled as he walked with him, attention falling over to the few infront of them.

Odius wasn't that familiar with this world or their races so he did not intend to be surprised by seeing more colorfully different species of humanoids. He only treated them as he would anyone that knew how to speak. However, the man with the careless expression of half-closed eyes and pale skin did not share any resemblance to anyone else from his own recollection. If what the Keepers and others said were true, this meeting was going to be an oddity that Cranston was organizing.
He coldly stared at the group infront of them, a hand with a sort of dainty laze to it raising as he greeted them. "Good afternoon."
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Hearing Odius's concerns, Cranston simply answered with a sheepish grin, turning his attention to the group's first impressions. The sight of Odius's sickly form unsurprisingly sent a wave of varying reactions amongst the group, most notably the developing frown on Mu's face and an exchange of looks between the Lainen couple. Comparatively, Leshandro kept his composure quite well, his eyes widening in puzzlement for only the briefest of moments.

"Brother Odius, was it?" the night elf Leshandro asked, a subdued smile on his face. "I've heard about you from Brother Cranston and Brother Mitch, but words don't do you much justice. I hope I'm not just speaking for myself when I say that it's a pleasure to finally meet you." The halfling and skaven duo, Ori and Wraster, didn't fail in quickly in buffering the elf's last statement with noises of approval.
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Odius stepped closer to the group, attention focused to Leshandro seeing as how he was speaking for all of them. The young undead kept his hands to his sides, making sure to not invade personal space. Although airheaded, he knew his state of life was not the most appealing. "The pleasure is mine. Being offered to bring good tidings and health is this broken world is the only thing that keeps me moving." He dusted the bottom hilt of his blade with the tips of his fingers, noticing there was dirt on it.

After an uncomfortable pause as was the way that Odius spoke, he continued. "Cranston apparently wishes for me to see to those that are ill. I don't mind the particular work so long as it leads to the good fortune of the innocent and in need. I'm under the right assumption you all are involved in his request?" Odius's tone was still as emotionless as always, leaving only the actual context of the words to show his true intentions.
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Leshandro raised an eyebrow, giving Cranston a questioning stare. It looked like the night elf wanted to say something, but a sharp and shrieky voice piped up from below. "Cranberry did talk-say 'Oddie ease sickness and harm' for days straight, wouldn't stop," said Wraster as he helped an unsteady halfling out from her seat.

"Last sun a man-thing bet gold-shiny piece Ori wouldn't drink bad-*BAD* water. Furless too weak, too soft! Told her not to I did, I did, but she not listen very great! Makes very bad-*BAD* smells now, Oddie help?" the skaven explained, scratching at his grey fur. Wraster received a pretty nasty glare from Ori, but she didn't offer any protest to his words.

Yet when the disembodied and undoubtedly malicious voice made its appearance amid the party, they were struck dumb for a time. Just who in Crucible Town would dare to say these kinds of things? In a public place no less? As an experienced huntsman that treats the danger regions of Dagwood forest as a second home, Mu broke out her shock rather quickly, unsheathing a short curved saber as she leapt up from her seat at the counter. "Bastard!" she cursed.
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As soon as Jackson had convinced everyone that he was in the Tavern, he summoned a bunch of hallucinations each one looking identical to him and in the exact same position for everyone, all of the hallucinations of Jackson filled up the already busy Tavern,  each one looking right at Odius, only the closest showing signs of moving, it'd move it's arm to Odius and lay his hand on Odius' shoulder. Or atleast it'd look that way for it was just a hallucination. Jackson would throw his voice one more time but speak quietly, right into Odius' ear.

"One day... For now let's see what you'll do next"

Jackson would move towards one of the people in the more empty areas of the Tavern, they were visibly petrified from everything that went down, unable to move a muscle, Jackson quickly covered their mouth with his hand and pulled out a kitchen knife with blood all splattered over it, he swiftly stabbed them in the heart repeteadly to ensure a quick death. After the person had perished he'd move his hand that was first on their mouth, slowly moving it down to the wound and extracting their freed soul. Jackson would escape from the Tavern, the hallucinations serving as distraction.
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A snort followed by a short saber swinging violently through the air signaled the sudden departure of the malicious entity. The bloody malformed being standing in front of Odius dispersed into a turbulent gust of smoke as blade bit shoulder, slicing through with no resistance and crashing into the floor with a thunk. A mere moment of relief passed through the room before a scream let out, drawing attention to a mutilated lifeless elven body in the dark corner of the tavern, left slumping against an open window as a puddle of blood pooled below.

The tavern came back to life in a panic, a flurry of boots clogging the entrance of the building as people fought to get out. A few of the braver souls investigated the body, trying and failing to hold back tears. "Sammie'r! Sammie'r Jufie, get up! I still need you!" a voice cried between sobs.

A sullen mood overcame the group, Mu cursing beneath her breath. The Lainen family hugged the cloaked figure tightly while they silently mourned for their fellow man, burying the figure's face in their embrace. Cranston gave Odius a solemn nod and moved to help calm them down.
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Odius had his hand go to the wrist of the stranger the moment he began to touch him. Though, at moment of contact, his hand went straight through his arm. 'An illusion...?' What would a creepy illusionist want from him anyway? His body almost crumpled to the floor expecting to be putting his bodyweight on a limb.  When composing himself, he felt a very small feeling deep inside. Very deep down, there was a sense of the slightest fear. It was the first time sensing it. Still, anyone would shudder at the sight of spontaneous broken necked humans.
Taking a breath, he moved over to the commotion of a dead body on instinct and through the dispersing illusions with no given attention to them to not be distracted. He hunched over to the corpse being held, grazing a hand over it. Even as he did, he felt no sense of life to connect to. Odius couldn't heal this person. They were already dead beyond belief. "Well then..."

He stood back up, still staring at the body in the arms of others. "We have a killer on the loose. Whatever reason that may be, we should have all warriors on alert. I can atleast heal those that still need it now that the real danger is gone. Then I think I should go into hiding to protect innocent civilians from the crossfire." His expression was still empty but his eyes seemed more fearsome and stern than before this event. His perspective washed over the others, awaiting to return back to the business he was needed for.
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After patting a few backs, Cranston yanked the ill and now somber halfling into the air by the back of her collar, offering her to Odius like a sack of potatoes. "We must make haste. It wont be long before Keepers arrive here in force."

"The Keepers? This is exactly the kind of thing we need them for! Hateful undead bastard! It's humiliating!" Mu spat, pulling her saber out of the tavern's floorboards with a grunt.
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as Odius and his crew swept past an awestruck Celia and for the doors of the Tavern, Connor met them. One white haired male staring down the other. The acrid scent of blood hung in the air, flowing out from the opened door. Inhaling deeply, he spoke. "Odius. I see you're still continuing your charitable actions." For a moment, he wondered if Odius would recognize him. The undead had not been present for the standoff against Boetius, instead busy with healing the injury of the boy he'd brought forth. Here Connor was, in his full demonic glow impeding the group's path. "I would say someone important has wishes to speak with you, but she seems to have found you first." A nod of his chin toward Celia within the tavern indicated she was the one of which he spoke. "Was there a fight inside? I can smell the blood, expired already." Nudging past the group, Connor approached the mess upon the floorboards of the tavern. The man's body still being hugged tight by a sobbing woman. "He has passed," He said solemnly, holding his hand out. The wound in the man's chest bubbling slightly as he beckoned the lifeless blood within forth. Connor didn't seem to care if the woman would scream or not, he wouldn't allow blood to be wasted. Especially somewhere he was cut off from the well of his father, it was a precious resource indeed. Whatever the woman's response, he'd coax every drop from Sam's lifeless veins. Holding it up above a palm in an undulating orb. Reaching out, he then shut Sam's eyes, whispering a Greek prayer for the dead.
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"Ah."  Odius stared up and down the being that stood before him. Their appearance seemed somewhat... vastly different. Still, he nodded. "It has been some time." There wasn't much else to say when Connor spoke of the death knight's presence being important to someone. Yet again, someone has come to seek out his attention. It was starting to grow tiresome trying to figure out if a summoning would be either calm or violent.
As Connor turned to head into the building, the knight's eyes met with the strange woman again only to find two and two click together. Suddenly, he realized they were BOTH here for him. At first he felt like keeping conversation brief from all the sudden debauchery. However, words were needed to press what the real important matters at hand were. His voice rasped out, emotionless yet louder than the last time he spoke.
"I am not sure what you two inquire of me this time, but..." Odius, lightly jostles the sickened halfling child in his arms, her heavy breathing quickened from before. "This child is dying. I was asked to help her and their family. If I am needed for anything, this comes first." His walk headed toward the side of the building for a secluded location out of the eyes of the Keepers if they were to appear to the crime scene. In his motion toward it, he continued speaking to Holst and Connor if he were still listening.
"These people need a hero. Especially with a killer on the loose."
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This newly made widow didn't have the chance to witness the traumatizing event of her beloved's sudden gruesome death, as those inhuman projections had captured everyone's attention, including her's. Yet watching Connor's act of draining her husband's body of blood, turning the still warm body into a desiccated mummy while he laid within her arms surely didn't make for a much better experience. An intense feeling of dread overtook the widow, causing her to faint, but not before producing a despaired high pitched scream.

A clawed hand reassuringly pat Odius's shoulder. "We can be at ease in leaving this case to the Keepers and the Town's guards. The Crucible does not lack for heroes. What these people need," Cranston explained, sticking a finger in Odius's face, "is a *savior.*"
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On cue, the halfling child groaned in pain, her bowel movements creating a grinding thunder. Evidently, her body refused to keep the food the ailing child had eaten earlier in the tavern long enough for her to regain any strength. Her skaven playmate recoiled at the noise, as if the sound had caused him to relive a recent trauma. "Ori bad-*BAD* stink soon, Oddie-man make help?" Wraster anxiously pleaded, pulling at Odius's pant leg.

A gathering began to take place outside the tavern, word started to spread slowly to those outside. One could be sure that by morning, the whole town would know of the recent event that took place inside. "Ah, poor Sammie'r! Does his sister know yet?" one of the many sympathetic voices lamented.
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His eyes were more narrow when concentrating on the young. She was deathly sick and left any longer unattended would've meant death. However, his powers were strong enough to remove this curse. In moments, the dark tendrils from his fingertips thinned. At the same time, the color in the childs face began to return. Odius now spoke to all still around him but in a weaker tone than before. "She will be perfectly fine soon. She just needs some sleep." it was faint, but a satisfied smile curled the deep corners of his mouth.
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The sudden relief brought a flood of drowsiness, the halfling child in Odius's arms falling right to sleep. A sweet smile spread on her face as she began to make a barely audible snore. Seeing this scene, the Lainen family's faces brightened up in awe, finally calming down a bit from the panic of earlier.

The night elf Leshandro nodded admiringly, chin resting on hand. "Oh my, Brother Odius. That's quite impressive work. Perhaps you really can help Sister Mu with her problem."

Cranston chuckled in glee, the gaze he fixed on Odius growing more fanatic. "If I may, I rented-," the red hobgoblin interrupted himself with a fake cough, "I purchased a strong oxen from a local farm. I would be pleased to gift it to you as a sacrifice for the salvation of Crucible. There are yet more sins to cleanse." To the skaven's dismay, Cranston proceeded grab Wraster by the skull and turn him around, showing off the stump of a tail that had long been chopped off as an example.
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Seeing the subject of his shame become the target of the group's attention, the skaven squirmed miserably. "Wraster come from dumb black birdy-bird place, lots of man-filth. Tummy get angry with me, so I eat-eat snack off man-filth table. A man-thing get angry with me too, even though snack is too clearly, too obviously mine. Told him but man-thing not listen very great like Ori," Wraster defended, now squirming under the uncanny feeling of having nerves reconnect to a still regrowing tail. "If see angry man-thing again, I chop-chop man-thing's tail instead."

The group regarded the man that accompanied the human beauty with vigilance. The Lainen family tried to stay polite, but with their recent experience still fresh in their minds, could not keep themselves from gasping in instinctual terror at his demonic appearance. Still on edge herself, Mu's hand subconsciously touched the grip of her now sheathed saber, her sensitive nose sniffing a familiar stench of blood.

Cranston however felt quite great as he recognized this man as Eldigan. The sanguine angel that had come down from above, bringing with him an injured boy so that Odius could work a miracle in front of the masses. If not for this event, would Cranston have found his purpose? No words could convey Cranston's gratitude, he simply bowed and made a silent promise to repay the favor should an opportunity arise.
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It seems they weren't going to be leaving just yet. Actually, this played in Odius's favor. There was a few unsettled matters at hand. Infact, Odius had not seen Mitch for a whole day. It was troublesome to have dropped off those errands to him and his parents at their doorstep without being able to say anything. Their hospitality was greatly adored and gave him ambition to have done all those chores that he did for them. In a low tone, he addressed the small group around him. This was mostly directed at Holst and Connor, but those such as Cranston and Wraster had to hear.
"I am afraid The Keepers have labeled me an undead. Whether it be true or not, I am basically a wanted criminal here for that fact alone. As much good as I wish to give, staying here any longer means further upsetting them." Odius pointed a pale finger over to a house while he walked towards it.
"A wonderful gentleman lives there who enjoys my company. I must give my temporary goodbyes, we can speak briefly there, and whatever is decided will mean I must leave quietly out of this town while it is still night. Please, follow me."
With the group furthering towards the shabby building, Odius was quickly greeted at the door by a surprised Mitch holding a lantern within the cracked doorframe. Before he even had a chance to mutter a word, Odius was already in the doorway. "Disciple Mitch, I am terribly sorry for my disappearance. I hope I got all the produce you and your family needed." He stepped into the dark front room of the house, shadowed by the lack of light inside.
"I know this is sudden, but the Keepers are kicking me out. I need to take my stuff and leave along with these new people that need me. I have no choice but to leave swiftly. If you would, let us all have ten minutes to discuss here while I gather my belongings and I promise I will no longer be a burdened to the household." His dead stare seemed almost uncaring, but he genuinely enjoyed the company and time he spent with him and his parents in this household for the week that he was there.
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Mu visibly grimaced at Odius's words, trading looks with Leshandro, her furious whispering shortly followed. "You didn't tell me he was an undead," she accused, her disapproval clear.

"Be at peace, Sister Mu. I was not made aware of this until now either. Regardless of whether or not Brother Odius is truly an undead being, he has shown himself to be a man of virtue for his time here so far. We came here to ask a favor of him, and that has yet to change, so please remain respectful," Leshandro whispered back, shaking his white marble maracas in a bid to calm her down and receiving an angry snort for his efforts.

A surprised Mitch, still half asleep and half geared after being awoken by the warning bell tones, dumbly held his home's front door open as a small group of people tunneled in after Odius. The Norwood's home had ample space for the four people that currently resided there, but having so many tightly pack themselves into the small living space hardly left much room to breathe.

After Mitch had invited Odius to stay with him and his parents, the two spent the following week patrolling the town, thrashing troublemakers, doing chores, and healing the sick. Mitch's own chronically ill mother failed to be an exception, Odius healing her of the bedridden status she's had for longer than Mitch can remember within moments - An action that has earned Odius the status of "Forever Welcomed" within the Norwood household.

"H-Huh? Keepers? They're kicking ya out? Why? I thought everyone like yer magic man powers," the drowsy fair-skinned youth slurred, his words getting faster and clearer as he spoke, like an engine shifting gears.
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Ever since Mitch first met Odius, Mitch had the feeling that Odius would soon become a big name in the Netherworld, and the week they spent together only served to intensify his feelings. He already resolved himself to do whatever he could to ride on the magic man's coattails, but this development came far faster than the youth expected. "After all yah did fer us? That aint right! We can tell Master Boetius. He wont let some good fer nothin's kick ya out like this," Mitch suggested, clearly indignant.

"Taken by disease last year," Cranston answered Odius's question shortly.

The words spurred the hesitating Lainen family into action, a pained look on Mr. Lainen's face as he brought a small figure covered in a patchwork cloak through the room to Odius. "Our daughter was taken too. We buried her near the river because she loved to play there," the father choked out, his eyes getting watery. "But three days ago, she came back to us," he cried, pulling down the hood on the figure's head to reveal a young lady with a deathly pale complexion that could rival Odius's. Her reddened eyes looked up pleadingly at Odius, a network of purple veins visible beneath her skin.

"Please save my little Pooky!" wailed a woman from behind Holst, more or less still standing on the hem of Holst's dress.
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It was a particularly difficult situation. There Odius stood: a wanted criminal with a small forming cult and the weight of two children on his shoulders. The pressure was growing heavy in the amount of responsibility he had to take in coupled with it having to be done in a timely fashion. An audibly emotionless exhale came from him, placing a hand on Mitch. "This world is full of people who all have their own goals and dreams. I don't impede on such complicated matters. I only protect the innocent." The fingers carefully fell from the shoulder limply as he walked to the undead girl.
His posture was imposing and stern standing infront of her directly. Her parents seemed to stand behind her almost as if worried at his action. The caution washed away when Odius's cold hand rested on top of her hair and ruffled it lightly. He, always, showed his emotion only through action rather than his face. "I don't know how to fix this. I'll find a way. I can take her with me and keep her safe from the Keepers until I can find a proper fix for this. A promise is all I can currently offer." He jostled the apparently orphaned child in his other arm, thinking how this was all going from here.
Whatever the parents may say, he still turned to the guests who inquired on him. "Well, Connor, Celiana..." He continued to rub the undead child's head. "We should move as soon as possible. On foot or other means, I can complete successfully."
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Mitch nodded sagely to Odius's words, acting as if he understood exactly what was happening. *"MAH, TELL MASTER BOETIUS I'M GOING ON A TRIP!"* he yelled, though the only response he got was the screech of his cat Bird from down the home's hall.

Several hard to read emotions flashed over Mr. Lainen's face, but he eventually gave Odius a hard nod. "I understand," he said, his voice strained. He bent his knees to look the undead girl in the eyes with a bitter expression on his face, the mother joining him with a heartfelt hug. "I'm sorry, Kiara. We couldn't protect you 3 years ago, and we can't protect you now. You're a big girl, so you have to take care of yourself now," Mr. Lainen spoke, his words devolving towards a sorrowful whimper at the end.

Clearing his throat, the teary eyed father stood up from his sobbing family. "Please make my daughter happy, Mr. Odius," he requested, his voice severe.
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Mitch paled a bit at sight of man lugging his uncomfortable passengers sprouting a set of wings, memories of the event that happened just a week ago resurfacing. The youth has seen bloodshed before, but seeing someone tear themselves open like that in such close proximity left a big impact that couldn't be dealt with in a short amount of time. Fortunately, he kept his dinner down with a forceful swallow.

Only after that did the fair-skinned youth really notice all the people Odius had brought into his home, fumblingly fixing his equipment. As a sociable native who's spent his entire life in the Crucible, he recognized everyone present, apart from the woman in the elegant dress. Before he could ask about the situation, the night elf Leshandro stepped up.

"Oh, my. How unfortunate. We'll just have to give the bread a try, Sister Mu," Leshandro playfully consoled, though Mu cursed at the notion. "Sorry for cutting this visit short, Brother Mitch, but we really must be on our way. I'm sure you've got somewhere to be as well, so there's no need to see us out," the night elf bowed apologetically, making his exit with others in tow.

"Place smells man-filth. Make smell daffy-daffy like classy lady next time," Wraster criticized on his way out.

The original crowd had come down to just Holst, Cranston, and Mitch after everyone went their separate ways. The tall and lanky red hobgoblin had a long history as a proud cleric, and the fair-skinned youth held no fear as a well known member of the town's guard. Therefore, they very openly followed along with the cautiously skulking woman. Mitch in particular held no regard for the woman's attempts at subterfuge, striking up an unceasing conversation. Moreover, due to the nature of the qi technique Mitch practiced, he faced no difficulties in doing so despite their quick pacing.

"Heyo! M'name's Mitch. What's yours? Never have I ever been too far from Crucible town before..." His rapid-fire words trailing off into a series of questions ranging from where she lived to her favorite food. Of course, Mitch happily filled in any lulls with information about himself and the town he grew up in. Cranston didn't keep silent either, stepping in with details about Odius and the events that happened in the tavern.

"Oi, Mitch! Just what are you doing out all the way out here at this time of night? You know what those bells're ringing about?" inquired the guard on duty at the town's exit.

"Ah, ya wouldn't believe it. Some eerie noodle neck guy just stabbed someone to death in a tavern full o' people and walked away scott free. Whole town's on alert lookin' for 'im," dutifully explained Mitch, not missing another chance to talk.

The guard's complexion took a turn for the worse. "Oh, I'm so sorry. Lord bless their soul. I-I don't think I can accept anymore solitary assignments from your master, Mitch. Job's already bad enough without things like that running around," they complained fearfully.

After their party finally exited the town's walls, Cranston pointed at a cart pulled by a peacefully grazing ox. "This is the Ox I had re- legally purchased for the sake of fueling Odius's good deeds. Unless someone has a better idea, I think it will serve our purposes well in getting us where we need to go.
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The undead girl squirmed miserably in Connor's grip. "T-too high... Too high!" the timid Kiara finally spoke, panic in her voice. She, like many others, admired and envied the birds that ruled the sky, wishing to join them. Existences like Connor only proved these desires to be feasible. Yet after the initial sense of wonder wore off, the undead girl started to realize just how high up they were, awakening a fear of heights.

Mitch stood there in surprise for a moment as Holst prepared the cart. "Ya work with animals before, Ms. Holst?" he questioned aloud. The woman in the stylish dress didn't exactly give off the impression of an experienced workhand, so the stark contrast left by the adept treatment of the common ox made him curious.

Cranston took the initiative to climb in the cart with Holst during Mitch's moment of absent mindedness, so the fair-skinned youth could only grab the reigns and give them a whip. The ox began to trot forward with a huff, tugging the rocking cart along behind. Off they went towards a destination known only by the mysterious woman and her flying companion.
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Mitch’s question wasn’t surprising as Holst had the appearance of a pampered woman. If she was to travel with these people, it was only fair of her to give them some information about herself.

“I may look like a lady, but my life here didn’t start off easy. The things I can do now as an enchantress were learned throughout the many years I’ve spent in the Nether.
In the beginning, I couldn’t teleport. I had to travel by cart or by horse, and even on foot.”

The woman looked at her feet, lightly wiggling her toes. Not a speck of dirt could be found on them even though she walked around without shoes.

The cart took a light turn to the right as it followed the dirt road siding the southern part of the forest. The three of them had been travelling for about an hour now, and Holst turned around at the right time to see the building of The fallen angel bar appear from behind the trees. She smiled at the sight, hoping that her friend would be there to welcome them all.

“We’re here…”

Holst hopped down the cart as soon as it stopped in front of the tavern; purple smoke cushioning her landing. Surely Connor, Odius and the others would be inside by now. She quickly made her way to the door before pushing it open, and turning around to face Mitch and Cranston then…

“It’s a very nice place, I hope it will be to your liking ~”
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"I can't really say if you're an anomaly here. I have no idea what normal is for this realm. If you're asking about where I came from though, no. Undead are created by necromancers, for a multitude of reasons." Connor turned his attention to Kiara, and he gently hushed the girl. "Quiet little one, I will not drop you." However, to keep the girl from  panicking further, he lowered their altitude. "Usually they are unintelligent, simply magically animated corpses capable of menial tasks and easily felled back to the dirt they came from. Sometimes, through exceptional means or magic, ones such as yourself come back. Fully conscious and with an array of unusual abilities." His wingbeats slowed, as he descended the quartet in front of a well worn looking tavern. "Come, Lady Holst will be along in due time. I'm sure you have many more questions for me once inside." Connor had really only arrived a good half hour ahead of Celia, his usual high speed flight hindered by both extra weight and a need to keep his passengers from meeting a gruesome end. Ushering the three inside ahead of him, Connor took one last glimpse toward the sky before following suit.
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Odius was glad to finally have his feet to the ground again. It wasn't a sense of fear, but having the control of his mobility stolen from him caused him great agitation. Take a moment to adjust, he walked closely with Connor and Kiara towards the tavern. "I am very patient, I just want to make sure these two have a moment to relax. They have been through a lot and I rather not worsen their moods with my personal business. Their good health is my current concern." It almost seemed like instinct, but it seemed like he was brushing the child's hair with his fingers when speaking. A fatherly sense had stricken his very core from his good nature but he was not inclined to personally believe it.
"I am willing to accept whatever you need from me. This world is riddled with problems and even being able to give a single bit of effort towards making it better would be worth it." The statement was made simply, almost said in a factual tone as if he had no hesitance when taking the lead towards the door with his two newest followers. Though, deep down, a pit of worry on how to accomplish any of this lingered.
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The girl calmed down a little when Connor lowered his altitude, but only after her feet touched ground did she truly begin to relax. Though she quickly found a new cause for worry, feeling a knot begin forming in the pit of her stomach. Not an unreasonable feeling to have, considering her current circumstances of entering an unfamiliar building of wooden make under the lead of two men in the dead of night. The cozy atmosphere of the dim candle lit interior caused her cheeks to flush a shade of purple, glancing nervously at Odius.

The small group walked in together except for Connor who waited some distance behind the three. Connor followed with them from behind. The scene was unfamiliar to the undead, lazily letting his gaze trail over the wooden furniture and unique decor that gave off an olden religious inspiration in design. Being someone who could not recall or desired the services of a bar any longer, he simply decided that sitting and waiting for this person named ‘Holst’ was the only thing worth doing. It seemed like various tables had assortments of dried meats/berries with salted nuts in the open for guests. To keep sustained as much as he could, he took a small dish of the former and sat in a secluded booth away from anyone who happened to be present.

Hooded figures and many individuals decked out in armor and weapons surrounded the place. Odius was not quite pleased to bring children here. He covered his lower face as he gnawed at the dried meats, feeling a deep sense of awkwardness having to devour infront of two people he barely knew. Not to mention being looked at while eating made him feel unsettled. The light flames of overhanging lanterns flickered yellow over his paled appearance, staring at the two almost menacing. It wasn’t that he meant to give off this expression, he just felt anxious on how to communicate with the two sitting before him.

“I… greatly apologize. For bringing you to a place like this. It smells of smoke and spilt beer.” Odius had set Ori on the opposite end of the table which he planned to sit at. It didn’t feel right to sit next to someone that was still a stranger to him. He mostly just tapped his heavy fingers among the table while waiting for some sort of response.

Kiara took her face out of the banana nut muffin she’d been enjoying, crumbs clinging to her chin. “No, Mr. Odius,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s nice here. I’m sure Ori would like it too.”

A moment passed by before the girl asked the question that burned in her undead heart. “Mr. Odius, w-who are you? My Mom said you’re a healer…”

Odius thought long and hard about this question. It wasn’t exactly that easy to answer something he didn’t fully understand himself. His fingers transitioned from tapping to lightly scratching the polished wood of the table. “That doesn’t have an easy answer. I awoke in this world. Woke almost similar to you. I was alone, however. I also have few memories. Memories from a different world. Different time. I’m… pretty sure I was a bad person. I’m here to make up for that. Do everything I can to make up for those things and be good for people. If people need me to heal, I am a healer. If others need me for my sword, I’m a swordsman. I couldn’t tell you that I have any simple title.”

He took a moment, giving an audible exhale after his talk, his face still emphasizing dullness . “Apologies. That left me winded.” It was true, it took some energy to say all that. Odius never had to speak very much. Even with Mitch, he kept his words short. Saying more than a few sentences was more practice on his lungs than he trained for and therefore was somewhat a task for him.

Kiara nodded in understanding, her faintly bloodshot eyes aglitter at the confession of Odius’s noble goal of redemption. “It felt like waking for me too, but I wasn’t alone… There was a person there, in a big black cloak. They said they gave me a second chance to right wrongs and told me to live fully. T-They were already gone before I could say anything.”

Odius’s fingers stopped, thinking for a moment over her words. He didn’t entirely understand who or why someone would have done this, but he did understand what Connor mentioned when he spoke of necromancers. The undead knight removed a pocket mirror from his sack, center-placed in his palm and held at head height directed at her. Both his blank expression and her reflection were aimed straight at her. “I came here with the clear feeling and goal to change life. Something for myself and to satisfy this. I don’t want you to feel the same. Your life was taken before you had a chance to live. You should think carefully what you want and go for it like your life depended on it.” He put the mirror down on the table. “Atleast, consider that once you’re cured. Not the way the Keepers consider cured.”
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Mitch happily perked his ears up for Holst's explanation. After all, she had not spoken very much earlier. Though his expression turned strange at Holst's mention of teleportation. Cranston had less restraint, directly snorting, his pointy ears flapping against his skull. No words left their mouths, but the message could be clearly seen: *This woman prepared one oxcart and now she thought she could teleport?* Of course, the magical ability Holst had shown during their departure left an impression on the two, but how could that compare to the act of teleportation?

Cranston walked into the bar without a second thought, not paying any mind to having Holst hold the door open for him. Mitch however only followed Cranston's example after some hesitation, and felt embarrassed to do so. "Looks like a fine place, Miss," the lad praised sincerely, his eyes scanning the array of alcoholic beverages in detail.
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Cranston promptly took a seat besides Odius, Mitch racing behind him to take the opposite seat. Cranston adopted an inquisitive look, resting his chin on his fist, waiting for Celia to spill the beans while Mitch sunk his face into the amber alcohol. Kiara herself seemed interested in the brew, slowly but surely nudging a cup in her direction with a finger, as if she feared any sudden movements would cause her chance at the liquid to disappear.
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Connor nodded at Holst's question, averting his gaze from hers as she spoke to him. He didn't know why, but he did feel a twinge of guilt looking like he was goofing off. Wiping his mouth, he followed behind her as she made her way to a table.  Though instead of sitting down, he leaned against the booth. Interjecting in front of Celia however, he began speaking. "We... Simply are acting proactively. This place, is changing. You mentioned it yourself, you're fresh here. So are many others, of course many people are native to this world, but people like myself have been leaking through for some time. Not all of them possess a positive and helpful interest like you. I've experienced my fair share of them. I'm simply helping the Lady out of a conscious decision to alleviate her issues of those individuals. We also do not know the volume of what can exactly end up here. So far it would seem just people."

--

As there was no place left in the booth from the number of people that were already sitting in it, Holst was left with an issue. She wanted to sit and have a drink, but she also didn’t feel like dragging a chair all the way from the other side of the tavern. As Connor spoke, she looked around to make sure that no other patrons were looking their way, and raised a hand to her side, her slender fingers moving as if pulling onto invisible strings. The hardwood floor cracked and winced lightly as the boards began curving upwards, elongating and morphing, until a wooden stool was formed out of it. Sitting herself on it then, she turned her jade green gaze back to her companions..

“Don’t tell Clara I did that..”

Bringing her glass to her lips, she took another sip of the burning liquid before letting out a soft, satisfied sigh. The woman was back into her comfort zone, and it showed on her features. While very upright, her posture was relaxed, composed, and so was her facial expression. The tension which had been showing in town was now a thing of the past, and she was now ready to converse. Putting her glass down then, grazing the edge of the smooth surface with her fingertips, she took a deep breath before finally speaking.

“The truth is this… For over fifty years, I have been keeping myself secluded from the outside world and, as Connor just said, this realm began changing. Where there were only natives, are now a numerous amount of outsiders. People from other realms... Other realities...”

Holst took some time to think about what she was going to say next. There was so much she didn’t know yet, and she didn’t want to go into too much details about the things she knew, or talk too much about who she really was. Even though the people who were sitting around the table seemed to be potential allies, the lady still had a long way to go before she could trust them fully.
“The Netherworld is changing. This realm is changing in ways we do not yet understand. The only one who knows the answers to all my questions is far gone now, and I have been waiting for him for all these years, but deep down I knew that he would never come back. What I am trying to say is this...  I am now trying to gather as much information as I can in order to bring back balance. Things are shifting fast, outsiders are pouring in, some of them ready to destroy this place as a mean to get out and back to their own world. The appearance of undeads and unknown diseases are also a new thing. I need..”

The woman glanced at Connor, suddenly realizing she wasn't alone in this..

“We need all the information you can give us..”
Bringing her glass to her lips once more, she gulped down the rest of its content before resting the now empty container back onto the wooden table.

--
Odius was still blank in expression, taking in all her words. It was hard to consider how to answer. "I can't share much to you. I have barely any of my memories of my past life before this world unlike the others who have come. At the very least, it seems like others have different methods they've shown. None the same. Maybe. I haven't been here long enough to know."
He scratched at the wooden top of the table yet again. This time out of agitation. "If multitudes of us came to this world for many different reasons, there might not be an actual answer. I'm not sure what's worse: that we don't know the reason or that there isn't a reason at all."

His palm laid flat, torn on his convictions and his previous thoughts in this world. At first, he thought his purpose was completely known. Now, it was all shrouded. None of this would come through in his appearance of course. It would appear as though he was holding himself strong just as any other time. If he didn't know his purpose, how could he assist these people? It wouldn't matter, as his conviction was still strong regardless if there was possibly no end goal.
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Celia's casual display of magic nearly startled the undead girl into spilling her carefully acquired drink, her eyes widening in surprise. She knew of people like wizards and mages, but to join a gathering of so many riled up the butterflies in her stomach. Kiara tried to make herself small as she quietly took tiny sips from the glass.

The red hobgoblin lifted up his feral visage, his pointy ears twitching in contemplation. After testing Odius's ability in Crucible, he thought to offer some information to leave and impression. "I once served the overly ambitious lesser god of crimson gold, Okrapir. In my time of service, Okrapir plotted against a god above his league, and my soul was banished to the void in the resulting fallout. I don't know how I got here, just that I was already living a life here before I came to."

"Yeah, we get a lotta outsiders in Crucible. Lot more than usual lately, too," Mitch added, nodding.
--
A void was in his mind as he spaced out in the wood grain of the table. Odius had no clear thought or image in his head until Kiara almost spilled her drink. His hand lifted slightly up in an instant, keeping her drink steady. "Careful. You'll dirty your hands." It brought him back well enough to catch his thoughts in the conversation. Atleast, the importance of meeting here. "It's important to understand why we come here. If for no reason, it's a natural occurrence.  Which will mean just prepping for the inevitable. If there is a cause, we can change it. To know why will mean our next step. Well..."

His dull eyes scanned over the party at the table. Mainly to those that weren't Holst or Connor. "If we are to be any service to this world, we might need to be sure our own strengths are better. I can offer what I can but..." His eyes went over to Cranston. "I'm still curious in what reasoning you view me as a prophet."
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Kiara nodded gratefully, her cheeks aflame with a purple hue. She took yet another small sip from the glass, numbed fingers tingling where Odius's had brushed hers.

"Not me, I'm a strong-" the fair-skinned youth began in protest against Connor's words. He, after all, trained the cultivation technique bestowed by his master on a daily basis for years now. Such words belittled his efforts, sparse pockets of wispy qi laboriously squeezing through his meridians in revolt. However, his instinctive objection stopped there as he remembered once more just who said these words, the youth paling as memories of the man's self mutilation reemerged.

The magically attuned could possibly sense Mitch's inner turmoil, though his qi lacked presence, not coming off as much more refined than a body's natural energies. Compared to the network of thick and sturdy roots of Boetius's cultivation base, Mitch's qi felt akin to a group of disorderly and sickly preteens, more likely to harm themselves than anyone or anything else should they happen to gain untimely freedom.

Pleased to see Odius taking an interest, the hobgoblin smiled gleefully, softly chuckling. "A prophet is a good word, yes. Your skill set and principles allow you to foster a following easily. You've done quite well on your own so far, but I think I can help you get to the next step," Cranston said, his voice shrill and craggy.
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