A Skirmish and a Champion

16:54] The mutant was wandering through the desert lands heading toward the north, he had avoided the other launching point due to the unfortunate circumstances which preceded his current standings. Yet that was just how things went, just like how when he climbed the steps toward the location of boars he found a mortal. It had been quite a while since he had been out and about, the many probably would soon be forgetting him.

"What a curious conundrum of consequences currently continuing. The faces so youthful, so concise. What could be the outcome of such a wondrous occasion? Would thou know the answer before fate deemed the necessary?"

His head tilted to the side, they were strange. Though Rigs was far stranger, his right bulking arm was a purple coloration seething a green hue miasma which spread through to the rest of his figure. One could only assume what he was happened to not be from the regular world of creation, nay he was an awakened. This was no mere mortal, this was a mutant.

"Friendly fiend or fondly found? Struggling situations are so spicy. So what say thyself?"
(Rigs)
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[17:02] Lyulf? He'd been pulling a throwing knife out of the skull of a boar when he heard the sounds of someone approaching it. The young man didn't pay them much head at first. After all it took a special kind of person or being to threaten him. Still, when a voice echoed across the still air to him?

He brought his full attention to the speaker; his gaze taking in the sight of the Mutant. An abomination of the Mire, that much was evident. Yet, one that he'd not seen until now. Either that meant they'd kept in their swamp or were simply newly twisted to the service of dark gods.

"Speak plainly freak."

The mutant's dialect didn't translate well for Lyulf. He found the flowery prose to be annoying at best. It was like listening to a poet or other such artistic type. The throwing knife he'd pulled from the boar skull was kept out. Instead of putting it away he'd start to toss it up into the air, catching it at the end of each arc. Up and down it went as he continued to speak.

"I've got little patience for your kind and I don't know what cruel god put you before me. So, why don't you take the chance and crawl back into your swamp?" The young soldier of Achyon's lips pulled back into a scowl. He wasn't one to parley with monster often. Even less so when he couldn't understand a word they were saying.
(Lyulf Yayle)
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[17:13] "Plainly speaking pursues positively pragmatic perceptions. Perhaps peasants can only handle the regular speak, so for now I will give you a taste of reality for you to see me as something which clearly isn't true. Your view is skewed, a freak before you is a brother to others. A friend of fiends, a fragrance of freshness."

There was a pinch of movement around as he was waving his arms around, using them as an extension of his speech. It was quite a fascinating example of himself, to maneuver the hands with the end of each word as if trying to act out a play which he had been rehearsing for. Though there was no play, merely the life before him speaking foul words of misconceptualized realities.

"Cavernous pieces of creations with limited liquids isn't exactly a swamp, though perhaps the youthful are just the empty vessels that are clear to the eye. Unless you are far more empty than the others, though how would I know? I spend not time with the many, rather with the other. Speaking of such things would only be so viciously clear to the Rigs. Yet unknown to the norm."

Nodding at the end, perhaps there was nothing to gain from the flesh of this mortal. Though they were quite annoying to think they could command him around, how dare they.

"Though I will speak your words. I crawl not back, I would sonder rather slowly. If I felt like it, that is."
(Rigs)
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[17:18] Alexander had just been passing by, intending to take the desert route to Starfall academy. When he spots Lyulf confronted by... Something that seems off. A being with an odd right arm while emitting green miasma from his body?

He began to suspect the worst- A being from the mires.
With this suspicion in mind, Alexander holds his staff and carries it by his side as he steps closer.

"What is going on here, exactly?" Alexander inquires, gray eyes narrowing themselves upon Rig. Ready to react in case he'll make any threatening moves.
(Alexander Vol Hellstrom)
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[17:26] That Cerulean gaze narrowed as Rigs spoke. They really didn't stop talking did they? It was really like they were some kind of performer or actor. At worse the mutant gave off an aura of a politician. It was as if they'd been rehearsing for just such a moment.

However, they'd not been far off in their assessment of Lyulf. He wasn't high born in any sense of the word. No, the lad had not only the luck but the speech of one of Achyon's lower-classes. Just another youth who'd been given the black-leathers of a private and trained in the ways of war.

"You practice that or something?" The young man's knife continued to be tossed up and down. "What did you think was going to happen when you approached with that speech? Think I'd realize that you freaks are actually people?" Each word was said with a more irritated tone. A fiery underbrush that bespoke of raw hostility.

Just lookingat the monster reminded him of the day the Mire had overran the walls of Achyon and went on their slaughtering spree. "Here's the thing, I don't care about the definitions. I don't care about whatever flower-like prose you've cooked up. You're a monster and your 'family' has harmed my city enough."

He almost didn't notice Alexander's approach. So consumed with the sight of the Mutant across from him. Well, he might was well answer the corporal. "I'm about to put this freak six feet under." The word was offered moments before that tossing knife came down and was caught betwixt his thumb and index finger.

With a twist it was hurtled across the gap between himself and Rigs. The mutant might have been content with speaking, diplomacy, but that wasn't what Lyulf was interested in. No, he wanted to get some simply payback from the blood spilt years ago.
(Lyulf Yayle)
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[17:28] Swoosh!
(Lyulf Yayle)
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[17:28] Snatch.
(Rigs)
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[17:32] One was never alone forever, that was certainly the case when another seemed to approach from the north. How things were so curious at times when the perfect timings would be deemed by fate. Not that it really mattered much to him, he was just here to enjoy the momentary connection with mortals. How odd they were thinking of him in their own ways, even the Vampircal ones would consider him to be a freak when they were just as complex as he was.

"What goes on before your eyes is one expressing themselves incorrectly, bashing upon the other with their words of hate. To think how I've done nothing but exist and preconceived notions spread like a virus through your heart."

The blade was thrown upon the words finale, though his left hand would reach up and grasp the knife before it reached his left eye. Holding it there for a moment he smiled behind the helm, how cute was it to think that this little one would be capable of harming him.

"I expect an apology, child. Else you will find the answer to the sought problems, though it will not be me finding myself in the ground. You will see just what it is to invoke the motion, you wouldn't enjoy the commotion."

Tossing the blade to his left with a flick of the fingers, it would shoot down and plant itself in the ground.
(Rigs)
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[17:34] From as far as a mile away, the fairy could feel a disturbance in the wilderness. Not only the potent aura of occult that encompassed Rigs, but the emotion that permeated from Lyulf as well. A feeling that he'd normally avoid, but a familiar friend garnered his curiosity.

"Such infernal hatred." Perthro muttered to himself. Hovering closer and touching down on a nearby tree branch, his wings remained unfolded to flee at a moment's notice.

Alexander would be able to notice a faint trail of fairy dust that fell from overhead, cluing him in to the position of Perthro.
(Perthro)
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[17:37] At first, Alexander thought he might have been able to resolve this with words somehow. The person standing in front of Lyulf was talking instead of charging in recklessly after all. If nothing else, it would have allowed him to gleam more into how that man thinks, perhaps even get some information on the mires.

All that went in a flash as Lyulf grabbed his knife in a throwing position- And tossed it straight towards Riggs!

And yet, even after catching the blade, Riggs was willing to offer a way to perhaps end things peacefully.

Problem is? He doesn't think Lyulf would take that offer. "I am not your superior officer, as far as I know." Alexander speaks up. "But I'll say this: I suggest against stirring up fights in the wilderness, away from any back up. There are far more enemies than there are allies out there on Esshar." Alexander warns Lyulf, trying his best to reason with him.

After all, the fairy's arrival only serves to give an example to what Alexander is warning about.
(Alexander Vol Hellstrom)
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[17:38] Nefarian stood as an 8-foot Titan armor that was frozen in Ice and fumed with the essence of blood. The Dullahan had glowing red eyes under his helmet but it was pura mana that took the form of eyes, he had no face and no head as every other Dullahan.

Nefarian approached the group and noticed a familiar monster, Rig. The Dullahan kept his gaze on the opposing group with his ghostly gaze. On his back was a Mithril long sword, on hand rested on the hilt as he watched them.

He said nothing at first just took note of all those around him and wondered what was happening. He could put the pieces together and realize a fight was going to break out, he wasn't sure but he hoped it would turn into a fight.

"This blade is rather new.."

He looked to Rigs as he spoke...

"So I mean if you would like some assistance against the Scum..the blade could use it."


(Nefarian)
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[17:39] Perthro says in telepathy, I have a bad feeling about those two. The lifesteam would be calmer if it were rid of them, but be careful.
[17:40] Perthro says in telepathy, *lifestream
[17:48] Rigs caught the knife? Well, now that was surprising that scowl seemed to shift into a grin. It meant this monster was a warrior; not just another freshly raised corpse masquerading as a threat. Honestly though? The rhythms and the prose was as annoying as ever. If perhaps Lyulf had been of a different leaning. One more akin to an appreciation of the arts or even simply someone with a calmer head on his shoulders? It'd probably have kept him from attacking the mutant.

"I've got no preconceived notions. I've seen what you wretches do once you get the chance. Shame you didn't consider such lofty thoughts when you attacked my home."

His hand simply reached down and gripped the hilt of his plasma-caster. The Justicar already began to glow softly as its fuel cells came to life. A powerful weapon; far more lethal than anything as simple as a piece of sharpened steel.

"I offer you nothing, except a bolt ofplasma between the eyes." His attention was grabbed by Alexander; his gaze though? Didn't leave Riggs. He wasn't about to shift his gaze from the mutant. Still, he could listen and he'd not draw the gun just yet.

"I didn't ask for your fuckin' suggestion." His tone was harsh, aggressive, it wasn't like the boy was beyond reason always but here? Now? He'd a target for his anger. "So, here's a suggestion for you. When you've got the Empires enemies in your sights?" Now the plasma-caster slid from its holster, coming up to level at Rigs.

"You take them out."

A glance was given to the Dullahan as they approached. So, there were more than one? Well, he looked over to Alexander and offered a wide grin. "So, you going to help me stomp some foes of the Empire? Or lecture me on peace and diplomacy?" He felt a tickle at the back of hismind, something talking to him. It at first stoke the young man's temper but then?

He realized what it was; how cruel the fate's were.
(Lyulf Yayle)
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[17:53] It was quite the amusing predicament that seemed to be riddling down through the river of time, how a Dullahan's approach didn't shift his gaze beyond the words spoken. There was something he was waiting for, expecting to receive his apology. Would one not simply give him that? Resolve their issue before needing a tissue?

"Assist with what you can handle dearest brother if you can hold a candle otherwise no need to shamble."

The rest of the words from Lyulf was so very human, clear as the sky was blue how they spoke. It was funny that this was how things always seemed to be with him, though that was just his way. Being near youth sparked anger within them, each and every time since his awakening.

"Attack your home..." placing a hand upon the bottom of his helm he thought of that "Right the siege, I remember culling bodies and lightning fires. Not all things go to plan but be damned we did make it quite the distance didn't we?" finally he turned toward Nefarian having an oh shit moment, not realizing that they were absolutely massive until just now.

"I don't think they are going to apologize, offers were extended for those who recommended." shrugging he turned back to the youthful one, this was going to be interesting. "Time is nigh, clock is ticking. What say we get to picking?"
(Rigs)
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[17:57] A heavy sigh escapes Alexander's mouth, shaking his head. While fighting the people of the mires can prove beneficial to Achyon in the long run?

That is only if they win. When you are outnumbered, one has to value the lives of your own troops more, less you'll end up running out while the enemy has more to spare. Speaking of numbers? Another being, clad in armor, has just arrived to stand besides Riggs.

As he feared, the enemy's numbers are rising each minute they stay here, the mere tension between magi drawing eyes and attention from the surrounding.

"We will have to speak about this at a later time, I suppose." Alexander laments, reaching a hand towards his coat's pocket to put on his bronze cap-The signature hat of Achyon's soldiers.

"For now though? Since you've already started this- We might as well finish, and make sure we return to home safely." The corporal claims, fixing his cap in place as he aims his staff towards the people of the mire, the metallic crow's skull at the top of his staff almost appears to be gazing at them.

"I dislike the idea of fighting while outnumbered, but I'll dislike it even more to leave a fellow soldier behind."
(Alexander Vol Hellstrom)
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[17:58] The boars decided to keep their distance from the crowd, it was likely they could feel the immense mana from them all. The Dullahan didn't know what he was able to handle yet which is why he needed to battle more so he could grow and gauge himself to see where he needed progression.

He was use to being in a body and being bound to armor was different when channeling mana, the circuits were exposed and all over so it took a different kind of focus, one the Dullahan was birthed with naturally but he was still getting use to his body.

He said nothing but simply waited again, he held his blade in his hand this time examining them and wondering which he would be facing off against, he didn't want to get in Rigs way but it would even the battle more then it had been without his presence.
(Nefarian)
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[18:11] {Won Aggressive RPB against Rigs}
[18:11] ** Lyulf Yayle has inflicted an injury upon Nefarian. ("Temporary Injury", "Temporary Injury", "Temporary", "") **
[18:32] And so, a brawl came out- The two soldiers of Achyon clashing with the beings that came from the mires. With Alexander not being familiar enough with Lyulf's tactics, the corporal has decided to fight by standing in between Rigs and Lyulf. That way, he thought, would allow him to keep Riggs at bay while Lyulf handled Nefarian.

A decision that paid off in the end, as Lyulf proved capable enough to take care of Nefarian on his own, leaving Alexander to fend of Riggs.

Thanks to the headmaster's advice from a year ago, Alexander's fighting has grown more aggressive, more direct. Instead of keeping distance? The corporal first attempts to destabilize Rigs from afar by striking through his blood: As Rigs attempts to move, he'll find himself having difficulty using his legs as the blood in his blood vessels begin to solidify inside them, hampering his ability to run.

Once he succeeds in slowing down then Riggs, the corporal rushes in with hisstaff extended forward! Alexander shoves the crow's skull that decorates the top part of his staff straight into Riggs' chance, as the eye sockets of the skull begin to glow with a vibrant green light...


From the sockets, a burst of acid expels outwards, splashing at full force upon Riggs' chance! The acid proves strong enough to even burn through his armor, and then effortlessly burns through the skin, damaging the flesh beneath. Worse still, acid doesn't easily fade away once it burns through. It'll keep causing damage until either someone helps clean the remnants, or it would finally evaporate on its own. Only then would Riggs be able to start healing from it.

With his part of the fight seemingly over, Alexander glances towards Lyulf to check on him, to make sure the fight ends in the private's favor.

This, would prove to be a mistake by the corporal's part- Giving Rigs the chance to make his escape if he so desires, while Alexander foolishly looks away from him.
(Alexander Vol Hellstrom)
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[18:37] The two soldiers of Achyon were vastly different and perhaps it would help to break the notion that all those who wear the black are interchangeable cogs of the machine. No, they were each and every one a unique set of gears meant to work in tandem as they ground down the resistance of the wild-lands.

Despite their differences, in magic and temperament, the duo fought well side by side. One's mastery of the natural world turning the very land they sought to tame to their benefit. The other a being of marching progress, the fires of industry rattling off his form as metal and plasma was brought to bare against the Monsters of the Mire.

Not to say it would be an easy battle. No, even combined the twin-warriors of the Mire were a threat. Where one's master of the deserts winds scoured the battle field in a thick sand that sought to drowned the life and bury the Black-hats the other was a swordsman of deadly skill.

"Take down that damn poet! I've got the Bucket!" The shout was given as he dashed away from Rigs claws. Those tainted pieces of bone had already torn into his flesh once. Leaving three lines of fresh scar trailing across his features. He knew when he was fighting a foe that was a true threat to him.

Yet, when Alexander interposed between him and the mutant? Then the gunslingers focus shifted fully onto the Knight. The sounds of the others fighting could be heard in the background. This was one like Torgon but much lesser. Still, the potential for another wretched king to arise form their lot wasn't something that Lyulf enjoyed.

"I'm going to break your spirit and lash you to the Empire's engines of progress." As he spoke his hand came to reach for the thick-chain of cold-iron at his waist. Then with a twirl his plasma caster rose and was fired. Shots of streaking purple roared towards the Knight.

Dancing to and fro Lyulf attempted to keep the swordsman from cleaving him in twian. Yet, time and again the young man's quick footwork served him well. His chain lashing out like a grappling hook! Time and again smacking the sharp blade to the side or wrapping about the suits waist. Yanking them forwards; just in time for Lyulf to place the super-charged Justicar against the Dullahands suit.

"Welcome to the Industrial age."

The words left his lips as the purple glow from the revolver brightened. Then the rush of plasma sent the Dullahan crashing across the field. Straight into a tree. He heard the splintering of the bark but not of the suit itself. What a tough creation it was, that or the spirit within gave it an unnatural hardiness.

Still his hand reached out to the Dullahand; that twirling chain of Cold-iron rushed across the distance and wrapped about them. Curling around their limbs and chest. They'd brought the monster to heel and yet. He looked towards Rigs and Alexander. The corporal was holding his own. Giving Lyulf a moment to walk over and crouch next to the downed skeleton.

"There's one of you freaks. Wreathed in shadows that serves Torgon. Find them, tell them that I'll make them pay for hurting me and let the Bell-toller know that now? The debt was on his shoulders." This was another monster of the Mire that Lyulf let walk free. This time as a messenger, this time as a showing of strength to the King who ruled within.

With a wave of his hands the chain's that'd locked the Dullahan down softed, half-melding into his armor so as to allow them to move. Who knows, perhaps someday that cold-iron would even help them in a battle. For now though? Lyulf turned and walked back to Alexander.

"See what I meant!? Fuckin' stompin' out the empires foes."
(Lyulf Yayle)
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[18:42] Triumphus says, "You two..."
[18:47] The Dullahan let his Ice and Blood synergize as he casted spell after spell, he then attempted to surround himself in blood and ice to keep them away from him however this was a fight he was not ready for. He lacked much at this time but he would keep moving forward despite all that.

Nefarian tried to avoid Lyulf strikes but he was to much and knew how to use his magic well. The Dullahan found himself being tossed through trees and took various hits from the Plasma.

Chains of Cold Iron surrounded him and buckled him up afer he fell to the grass, he found himself bound but through the entire fight he hadn't felt much due to the epicness of his armor but when the chains began to meld with him it was a pain unlike anything he had ever felt, it burnt his spirit as well as it bonded and gripped him even further.

As he lay bound and beaten he heard the mans voice leaving him with a message, he knew it was for Nior based on how he stated it and would rely it if hemade it back. At this moment he was unsure of his fate but he kept his Gaze on his enemies as he lay there, he wondered what the condition of Rigs was and was unable to see him where he was positioned on the grass.

"I see.."

The Dullahan would pay this respect of relying the message due to his loss and their win. He felt his shame fill him up, if he had a face it could be seen all over.


He begins to think to himself as he sat in his failures, he couldn't be so easily taken out or he would never surpass Torgon but he wouldn't give up either until Death claimed him for a second time.
(Nefarian)
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[18:48] Nefarian says, "brb 1 sec"
[18:48] The fight wasn't what he would have wished for, but then again elsewhere would be a bore. To throw down against the two, a unified front looking slightly blue. It wasn't until the range came into play, that he knew nothing could sway. This was merely the way, from the bolts to the bone.

It would appear linear as they clashed together. The focus of Alexander mainly upon him while Rigs was more attuned to the two, trying to work in tandem with his fellow brute. Struggling they were with the combined force, it was a great challenge indeed but they did not heed for there was a battle to be waged not a war to be won. The mortals were overwhelming that much could be seen, but the reality was shallowly starting to gleam.

"Industrial age, allow me to turn the page."

As their revolver rushed toward the Dullahan he did try to warp our chains and pains across the field but little would it yield. No matter what he did, this wasn't his crib. So he would eventually ponder down to wonder what practically was this exactly?

A loss, without the sauce. Double was certainly trouble, though he was not subtle. "Freaks! Not at their peaks, plebeian mortals. Be it head to head the outcome would have been dead to dead!" though as he was unable to shift through reality, he would raise his cape and exit stage left.
(Rigs)
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[18:56] Perthro finally emerged from the trees when the dust settled and the armored fiends fled. While the intentions of these Achyonite soldiers may not have been all that pure, the effects of their actions could be felt. A sense of calmness returned to the forest where it had once ached for it.

The sprite of the wilderness made himself visible, his translucent wings reflecting rainbow-colored fractals as they fluttered. A trail of sparkling fairy dust followed as he beelined towards their line of sight, hovering in front of them.

"Thank you, human Lyulf. Other one." he offered his gratitude to the two soldiers, bowing. While their interests may have solely been to flex the power of their nation, it just so happened that they performed a virtuous deed. One that a scion of the lifestream could commend.

"You taught those two a lesson, and for that you have my gratitude. The forest should be calm for now, while they nurse their wounds. No longer does it achewith their corrupt presence."

The butterfly arose from his bow, looking to Lyulf. The human that knew his name. "I believed in you. Search for me in the forest tomorrow, and I'll offer you my blessing in return. I'm still aching a bit from last time, else I'd do it right now.."
(Perthro)
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[18:59] Alexander looks towards the small fairy, narrowing his eyes to try and see her better. He had expected her to be another enemy, thinking she belonged to the mires as well.

But, instead of attacking, or even fleeing- He thanks them, instead? Bowing to them after they sent those two away? "You... Aren't with them?" Alexander asks, bluntly. So far, he hasn't known any fairies that weren't with the mire.

Well, it would be more accurate to say that he hasn't seen any. Fairies aren't easy to find, after all.
(Alexander Vol Hellstrom)
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[18:59] The Justicar spun in his hand for a moment before the sound of it sliding back into the leather holster could be heard. A contented smirk was plastered over the youths' face. This had been more than a fight; it'd been a skirmish between Achyon and the Mire! He could feel the grinding of his gears!

It wasn't until he noticed Pertho out of the corner of his eye that his temper became to settle. The fae could feel a radiation of satisfaction from the Human. There was a cold thrum of anger that lay under the surface of a now calm lake of positivity. A far cry from when they had last seen him; he was older but Lyulf doubted the fae could tell.

"Eh? If it isn't Peppi; I'll admit I didn't think I'd ever see you again." As he spoke the sound of his boots digging into the earth proceeded him crossing the space between himself and the fae. He'd crouch a few feet away from them. His cerulean gaze leveledintently upon their features.

"Which forest though? You got any clue how much damn forest there is?" Probably not, the fae was after all not a person. Still, the young man brought a hand up to run through his hair letting out a sight. "So, what's this about a blessing? I'm not hurt you know." He'd not seen the fae for years but the knowledge they were still hurting told him how hard it'd been for the wonderous creature to aid he before.
(Lyulf Yayle)
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[18:59] * You have been awarded 1 Roleplay Points! *
[18:59] "Hmm? No, I'm not. Does that really come as a surprise?" Alexander's blunt inquiry would be met with a blunt reply. No fae in their right mind would be aligned with Shadowmire unless they were corrupted. Either that, or extremely misguided. Perthro was neither of those things.

"Well, they pay no mind to me when I show up there. So, maybe that perception of my people does exist." Being a fairy did have it's perks! "But, make no mistake. I can't stomach being in the Shadowmire for more than a couple of hours."

He was a holy-aligned fae, after all.

Perthro's attention returned to Lyulf, raising an eyebrow at the nickname. "That's the name you chose? I suppose it works!" he chirped. Anything was better than being called by his true name.

"Just go out on a walk, I'll find you. Have faith." he affirmed, smiling. Which basically meant to add Perthro's writer on Discord, at Matthew#2619!

"You'll find out when it happens, but it will be worth your while."
(Perthro)
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[18:59] Faith? Did the fae even know who they were speaking to! Still, they'd offer a shrug at the mystique of the diminutive figure. If they wanted to rely on some mystical mumbo-jumbo to ensure Lyulf found them again than so be it. After all stranger things had been happening as of late.

He glanced over to Alexander and offered a nod. "Don't worry, I know this one." It was all he offered, not really wanting to elaborate anything about the hows or why's at the moment. His attention returned fully onto Pertho.

"What you don't like it? I thought it was rather creative. Anyways, I'll take your word for it. Who knows perhaps I'll run into more Freaks to knock back into their fetid hole." He really wasn't one to mince words was he?

Standing back up the youth stretched, the sound of bones popping was a welcome thing. The feeling that it washed over him? Even better! "Well, Peppi, I suggest you watch out. Don't want you getting smoke from some savage or zealot because you spoke to us."

His cool gaze seemed to trail to the trees. As if he expected more foes of the Empire to come bounding out at any moment. Lyulf for all his hot-headedness was at-least an vigilant sort.
(Lyulf Yayle)
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[18:59] Alexander crosses his arms with the staff still held in his hand, still a bit suspicious.

As far as he knows, this ''blessing'' could still be a trap. A lure to bring them away from Achyon and straight into enemy hands. For now though, he'll play along. It isn't like Perthro tried to tell them when and where to next meet him, -yet-.

If such a trap exists? Then perhaps he'll be able to work around it and turn it to Achyon's advantage. Only time will tell, then.

"It is surprising indeed, when you take into account that the people of the Shadowmire have tried to invade out home to rescue their fairy leader." He retorts, eyes shifting a bit towards Lyulf. With the way he spoke, it seems that the private was at the front lines when that invasion happened.

"By the way," Alexander looks back towards the fairy. "My name is Alexander. If what you say about not aligning with the Shadowmire is true, than it is good to meet your acquaintance." Alexander says, though he still maintains a bit of distance, keeping his body closed at Perthro's presence. Trust doesn't always come easily, after all.
(Alexander Vol Hellstrom)
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[18:59] "It's.. serviceable. Not as eloquent as my true name, but a substitute is a substitute!" he chirped in response, seeming to have no problem with being called 'Peppi'.

"Anyway, yes. I'll be leaving now. I'd like to remain on neutral terms with them. Not out of any desire to play nice, but I don't want them to stomp on me.." Perthro was rather weak to be making an enemy out of Shadowmire, after all.

Returning his attention to Alexander, he nodded.

"I've heard of her. She met her end recently, right? I never knew her, but it's all rather unfortunate. That a fae had taken that path in life, I mean. Not that she needed to be put down, that I understand. Anyway-"

Hovering away, he bowed once more. "Goodbye, human Lyulf. Human Alexander."
(Perthro)
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[18:59] "Take care Peps."

It was nice to see the fae again but it was clear that they had places to be. Flower crowns to weave or something. He didn't know what fae did with their free time. He offered a wave to them as they began to fly away. They'd see them again soon enough. After all what was a day?

He turned his attention towards Alexander; reaching out and slapping the man on the back. "Damn good fight and damn good timing. I'd have been toast with how many monsters were crawling out of their holes." Lyulf had seen the writing shift once more of them showed up but still!

He was a hot-headed sort.
(Lyulf Yayle)
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