One of Wish's hands was wrapped tightly around the hilt of Victor's sword, her knuckles nearly white. Let them try to interfere again. Quinn had the audacity to stop her from healing Victor at one point, grabbing the shapeshifter and hanging him lifelessly in the air, with broken arms and legs that Wish had not gotten to mend. And then Deanna, quite childishly, came over to mock Wish stating how she wasn't the only bad one in the relationship. It was at this point that she couldn't stop herself and tossed both of them into - or nearly into - the water. Deanna took a backhanded slap and then a kick to the stomach, sending her to the edge of the roof and Quinn took a blast of magic to the chest, throwing him into the water. This might have seemed liked a foolish idea, considering Victor was going to be dropped from Quinn's grip as well, but Wish surrounded him in a barrier just before he could hit the roof and placed him gently back on the ground.

Wish had been pushed to her limits by Deanna and Quinn; she had enough of this whole situation. In truth, she wanted to leap off the roof and get away like so many others had, but she stayed because she was a devoted healer and friend (if not more) of Victor Sage's. She would not leave him behind to die. And so, Wish attempted to heal him the best she could, tiring herself out to her wit's ends.

As Quinn and Deanna had finally gathered themselves, Quinn on one end of the roof in his wolven form talking to some sudden stranger who had the courage to come on the tavern roof and Deanna on the other side seemingly staring off into nothingness, Wish felt she was safe to start healing Victor again, though she worked quickly for fear of being stopped once more. During the time she healed Victor's legs and arms, she received a warning (verbally and glaringly) from both Quinn and the stranger he was talking to for knocking Quinn into the water. Wish took these warnings with a grain of salt, that is to say, she did not take them very seriously at all. Why was it that they all thought that they could intimidate her and push her around? Was it because she was Fae? Maybe because she was short? Maybe because she lacked in the muscle department when compared to other female fighters in battle? Oh, but she was not entirely helpless. Far from it really. There were so many things that they did not know about her, Victor included.

When she was done healing Victor, a warm light washing over him and then dissipating, Wish held him against her chest still. Leaning down, she kissed him on the forehead softly and then nodded, though her actions were noticeably weary. Fingers laced into Victor's hands and she gave his palm a gentle squeeze.

"Everything's okay now," Wish said, looking him over to make sure she had not missed healing any broken bones or open wounds. "You'll be a bit sore for a few days though..."

As she was holding Victor against her, the silence had been broken by Deanna's sudden and unexpected laughter. What's so funny? Wish wondered. It's probably best that I don't ask. Deanna's fit of giggles, however, did sound insane. How could someone laugh at such a situation when people had died all around them? Wish, unfortunately, did not see anything worth smiling or laughing about. Particularly in the last few hours, the situation had gone to utter hell when it never needed to in the first place.

She was further caught off guard when Deanna turned to face them and became somewhat serious, asking (well it was more of a command) for their help in scouting around, as it was quite obvious they all could not stay on the tavern roof forever. Eventually the sun might come back out and it would be too hot to stay on higher ground. They also did not have a chance to grab any food while rushing to save themselves from the tidal wave. And while Wish was the first person who wanted to get off this forsaken roof, she couldn't go anywhere. Slowly she stood, helping Victor to sit up as she did so, and shrugged questioningly at Deanna, her arms lifting into the air for a moment.

"In case you have forgotten the events that transpired in the last hour or so, let me remind you," Wish began, hoping she could get her words out before she collapsed. She was trying to prevent her legs from shaking beneath her too much and it was not because she was afraid, but because she was exhausted. "When you came back onto the roof with Quinn, you backhanded me quite hard so that I nearly rolled off the building. In this descent, my wings were injured by some of the nails on the tavern's roof. After that, you demanded I put up another barrier, by myself, while you were too busy mauling Victor. And of course, I needed to have some insurance you would let him go, so after the barrier was up, shielding all of you from the next tidal wave, I had to make sure Quinn was fine."

"Then once I got to Victor and began to heal him, Quinn and yourself decided, that... oh I don't know, hey maybe it would be fun to fuck around with Wish some more? There goes so more of my energy. And then the rest of it was spent on making sure Victor lives. If none of this has sunk in, let me summarize. I cannot fly anywhere right now thanks to my ripped wings and I am too goddamn tired to do anything else. I'm not sure you entirely realize what it takes to use magic, to hold back a tidal wave and to heal two people in a row, one of which was very close to death."

So while Wish did not leave the sunken tavern, she did turn her back on Deanna and headed over to the other side of the roof. On her way, she took Victor's hand and led him with her, helping him stand. Once they had crossed onto the opposite side of the roof, Wish lied down onto her side and let out a much needed breath. While her olive colored eyes were closed, keeping the gloomy, gray clouds out of her vision, she could not sleep. How her body ached to, but with death looming all around her and the sounds of helpless voices in the air, Wish could not manage it.

Two tidal waves made their marks on Aleris, plunging the continents of Eiler and Elved into watery chaos.

On Eiler, Grand City has been nearly submerged. The water filled up to about two stories in height and many people have taken refuge on rooftops or high hills. Other buildings, less sturdy, were completely demolished in the tidal wave. Jade City, luckily shielded by the mountains, received less damage, the water flooding their streets up to five feet. The cities of Joi however, were less fortunate. They are completely submerged and much of the beautiful art held on the streets and in those buildings has been lost. Several hundred people have also taken shelter inside Aurora's temple, safe within the Goddess' care, though they must wait until the water recedes.

Though Elved was also hit by tidal waves, most of its cities fair better. Vandual and Garis Town, mostly inland, were minimally flooded due to them being close to river edges. Shimmer Town was protected from major flooding as well as the town was built upwards along a cliff. On the other hand, Bariston has been flooded to the same heights of Grand City. Galenous' temple and those seeking shelter inside, though close to the ocean, were guarded by the God of Autumn.

Many people have gone missing, likely taken into a watery grave. It will take up to a week or two for the waters to recede back into the ocean and while it does, the sun, once again hot and unyielding, creeps out from behind stormy clouds.

It took three times longer to reach the Grand City than the Kharl'at predicted, though the dragon wasn't to blame. In fact, it was Djarins' fault.

The desert nomad had called a halt to the caravan, four hours after he'd regained consciousness. He had been propped up against the corner of his cart, a waterlogged wooden box pulled by three dragons, and from this vantage watched the grim landscape of the dragons' warren pass by.

Aside from slowly churning masses of smoke, the walls were featureless. Thus, his attention was inevitably drawn to the black obelisks - the spirits of the dead dragons. He couldn't help but wonder at the differences in each black monument. Some where small, fat, and proud. Others rose elegantly above them and pierced into the sky. Each had runes, but for all Djarin could discern even these symbols were unique.

After staring at these statues for so long, Djarin noticed something peculiar. His right eye - the blinded one, stabbed by Blend on the deck of a ship only a week prior - saw something. Cracks, in the obelisk he was looking at. He closed his good eye, and the vision remained. It was then he called a stop and once more motioned over Ternal, the dragon.

"Dragon, do you see that?" He motioned to the statue. Djarin was walking around the obelisk slowly, his feet shrouded in thick smoke as he studied the statue. His good left eye kept closing and opening as he tried to make certain he was seeing it with a blinded eye.

The dragon shook its head.

"You don't see the cracks? Or the smoke?" Djarin had his good eye closed and was intently facing the obelisk.

"No." The word echoed through his mind.

"I see.. there's cracks in this. I can't see it with my good eye.. it's.." Djarin reached out with his left hand and rubbed his fingers on the obelisk. His eye was still closed. "This crack.. do you see this?" His fingers pushed into the stone, piercing the polished surface as if it were water.

The dragon hissed violently, baring its teeth. "Stop!"

Djarin pulled his hand back, afraid the dragon would lash out. "Why? What happened?"

The dragon seemed enraged. "Don't you see? You.. are a messenger of Chaos. This place defies everything you stand for. We must leave at once."

What did he mean? Djarin studied the obelisk, once again closing his good eye. He could see through the blinded socket of his ruined right eye a teal crack, puffs of grey smoke rising from the surface of the contained dragon spirit. Djarin was causing those wounds, simply by his presence, by the chaos he brought to this delicate realm.

Order. Chaos.

He understood. In order to become what he was destined for, Djarin would eventually destroy this place. Everything. He would return it to Chaos. As the Kharl'at said, he was a messenger of Chaos, for better or worse.

For now, to achieve his goals, they needed this place. They needed this order. Chaos would have its time.

Djarin chuckled at the irony of it. His spirits were high, despite the pain in his dismembered right hand. "Kharl'at, let's get on with this journey."

--

It was several hours before the next interesting event. Djarin wasn't the first to notice this time - cries of alarm, followed with the grating replies of dragons, filled the air. The cart ground to a halt and the nomad climbed out of the back, followed by Fingers. The sailor had become his shadow, following Djarin wherever he went.

The convoy was flanked by bizarre beasts, even stranger than the dragons, though smaller by half. They were still twice the size of a man, and prowled about on three legs - two at the fore, and one behind. Despite the seeming handicap, they moved gracefully. Their skin was black, and thin veins of crimson poured from under their eyes and down the sides of their bodies. Wolfish teeth glistened from frightening jaws.

The creatures were circling the group, hesitant but predatory.

"What's going on?" Djarin asked as he approached the three Kharl'at which pulled his cart. All three dragons had removed their harnesses. The first one turned to him and clicked out a series of alien noises. A distinctly feminine voice filled his mind.

"Lesser Hounds. Septorians. Sent by the others."

"What others?"

"The Kharl'at who did not embrace our revelations.."

Djarin recalled the sinking ships, the war under the waves. So, the war was not over between the dragons.

"Do not fear, Seer. The Hounds are wise. They will embrace the revelation." The dragons eyes glinted violently. "If they do not, they will die."

Sorcery shook the caravan, and suddenly the fight was on. The vicious demons rushed into the group of dragons and humans, their teeth ripping out at flesh and tearing away limbs. Men and women fell, screaming, but the counterattack was already prepared. Sprouts of black sorcery bloomed from the ground like plants, reaching upwards then spiralling. The Septorians got entangled by these enchanted vines, which greedily clenched the demons and pulled them to the ground.

Less than a minute had passed before the conflict was over. Bodies littered the floor, corpses of the three races which partook in the brief clash. For all he could see, Djarin only counted three human casualties, and only wounded dragons. Five of the Septorians lay on the ground, bound by black tendrils of enchanted rope, and another lay headless twenty yards behind them. A dragon circled it proudly, its teeth dripping blood.

Djarin walked forwards and placed his hand on the side of a Septorian. Muscles rippled beneath him and the demon hissed viciously. But inevitably, it embraced the twisted, mad truths Djarin was spreading.

--

The caravan, now patrolled by five friendly demons, had reached the city. The passage from the dragon warren to Aleris was surprisingly painless. The churning walls of smoke around them congealed, flattening into shapes. The plane of water, the peaks of buildings. The grey shades took on color, the smoke coalesced and condensced, until before his very eyes was reality as he'd known it. Water lapped against the sides of buildings.

They were in the Grand City, and it was underwater.

The dragons had cleverly positioned them on a rooftop, and Ternal swam about in the murky saltwater, studying him carefully.

Djarin motioned towards a pub. Twenty pairs of eyes followed his gesture. "Do you see that?"

"Mortals," the dragon clicked disdainfully. Several people were stranded on the roof of the tavern.

"Let's show them the revelation!" Djarin cried eagerly, and they headed towards the inn.

--

Thus far, the burning Chaos that Djarin had embraced refused to spread. Flames of it grew, sputtered, and were extinguished by tidal waves or draconic wars. Aste'Tenur was its only victory, and short lived. But, as all skilled fire starters know, a true flame requires fuel. The drowned city of Euphoria, the ravaged city of Aste'Tenur, even Joi - their fuel was washed away by the gods.

But the Grand City was a tinderbox, now more than ever.

Djarin prayed to Tempesturo he would be the spark that set this city ablaze.

(Continuing from Chat Logs, but starting a few days later...)

Wish had gotten through the worst of it. The tidal wave, Victor almost dying from Deanna's attacks, her injured wings and being sapped of nearly all her energy - both physically and emotionally. Somehow, despite the flooding and obvious misery from other Alerians around them, Victor and Wish had once more made it past a large hurdle in their lives. Of course, the flooding was still a problem and food supplies were going short, but as the days had passed, other options had been opened to them.

For one, thanks to Deanna's strange healing methods, Wish could fly again. Victor, after taking a few days of rest, would be able to shift so they could explore their surroundings more, moving from one drowned building to the next. While the water did not recede much into the ocean yet, it was slowly on its way. Wish tried to look out to the castle many times to see if it was in ruins, wondering if with Victor's new position as an Alerian soldier if they could take refuge there. However, she could not get a good glimpse of any damage the castle had taken, if at all.

As she was feeling revitalized, Wish took this opportunity, with Victor's help, to swim beneath the tavern and see if they could find any food that had been sealed away. She almost regretted doing this, as there were quite a good number of dead bodies submerged in the water, floating lifelessly with their mouths still hung open as if in fear. Trying to divert her vision, Wish made her way through one of the tavern windows. From this little expedition into the tavern's very watery kitchen, she and Victor were able to secure a few jars of food that had been tightly sealed and not damaged from the tidal wave.

Grabbing what they could, they headed back onto the roof of the tavern and put out the loot they found. It wasn't much, but what they gathered still appeared to be edible. Flicking water off her gossamer-like wings, Wish looked towards Victor and then nodded back in the direction of the water.

"Not going down there again," she said catching her breath after having held it in for some minutes. "I think it is time we venture away from this roof and see what else has survived."

Another reason why they could not stay on the roof for much longer was because the sun had come out again. The gray colored clouds were gone and the rays of the sun beat down on them without mercy. They would bake if they stayed on the roof much longer. Wish already had more of a tan than she wanted from their days in Heruin. Staying out in the sun like this would only make her into a lobster. But then again, she found herself wondering if there was any ground that was still not submerged in water?

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Deanna and Quinn returning. After the therianthrope pair's own expedition out in drowned Grand City, they came back onto the tavern roof. Wish was a little surprised, but not totally to see the two. She gestured to what Victor and her found beneath the tavern's depths.

"We found some of this food in the tavern and it looks to be good still," Wish started. "So we can take this and start heading away from --- ."

Just then her words were interrupted by a booming sound and a loud splash of water. Wish went very quiet and then turned her head in the opposite direction thinking, What now?

Settled on another roof was a small army of about twenty or so strange looking people and dragons. Wish studied their clothing and from her time in Aleris, she had not seen anyone dressed in such a way. Outsiders. She couldn't imagine they had come to visit Grand City as this was not exactly vacation season. So it must have been something else and that something else was likely to be trouble.

Her gaze went from Victor and then to Deanna and Quinn, her olive colored eyes questioning. "This cannot be good," she said, her voice a light groan.

{Cont from chat..}

Melvin had slept for a while and then she had coerced him awake. He hadn't ripped her limbs off or scarfed down her head, so all was well. So far. She had then spent some time trying to convince him he shouldn't eat the soldiers and wished she would've shoved the carcasses into the water. Well, he still nibbled on the solider and said it tasted like a sheep's butt, then tried to play it off like he hadn't ever tasted a sheep. Left shaking her head, she had taken care of the horses and even made him a pirate flag loincloth. To her chagrin, it was snug on him and barely covered him. She's have to try and remedy that.

With the horses fed by her conjuring up some oats and apples for them, Melvin had asked if she could bring him a deer. With her being so tired, she said she didn't know if she could or not. She had promised he could hunt the surrounding forest back in the valley when they got back home. With the city nearly fully submerged, there was going to be all sorts of dangers now. And none of her family knew where she was yet. She had thought to leave a note! She hadn't thought to be gone this long though.

After sitting for a bit, she thought up a couple ideas, especially after Melvin said he couldn't swim, and she had said it wouldn't be a good idea to swim in the now fouled waters. She encouraged the horses to bed down for the night and then she convinced Melvin to do the same. "We should rest, save our energy. Come morning, we'll figure out a way off this mini-island of ours. Be sure to drink some of that fresh water, but we should ration it. Tomorrow, I think it might be wise if I did some searching to see if I could find us some food or maybe conjure some up. Umm...if you can't sleep...maybe you should keep guard over me and the horses." she suggested. They had to worry about looters and bandits now.

Before she went to sleep, she tried to encourage him to puke up all the man-meat he'd eaten and then had shoved the dead men into the water with a brief sincere prayer for their souls. She wasn't sure lighting a fire would be a good idea, so she huddled in her cloak and slept well away from where the dead men had lain.

---------------------LATER....

With the sun warming her wings, the pale faery girl had awakened and whether or not she was curled up next to the horses or Melvin, she wasn't sure yet. She groggily sat up and rubbed her eyes and whimpered as dirt got in one of her eyes. Grabbing the hem of her blouse, she rubbed and dabbed at her eye til it was out and then stood to stretch. If Melvin were still awake, he would be able to make out more about her now. Most notably, her wings. They were transparent and butterfly-esque. With the sun hitting them, they sparkled, like a dragonflies.

She stood roughly about four foot and ten inches and weighed maybe 90 pounds soaking wet, if that. Her untamed snowy white tresses fell to her shoulders, dancing upon her moon-kissed flesh. Though pale and often outdoors, she had a slight tan, though the sun could burn her just like anyone else could be harmed by it. Her violet eyes were speckled with gold as he had seen earlier and her face had an ethereal quality to it though she appeared Human.

Moving to the water barrel, she washed her face and then her hands and since there were no towels around,she dried her hands on her blouse, which was no grass-stained and becoming rather filthy. Frowning at that, she sighed and took the ribbon looped around her wrist and tied her hair back as best she could into a pony tail of sorts. With that done, she then fed the horses again before moving to Melvin. Awake or sleeping, she'd nudge his arm til she got his attention, in case he was spaced out again.

"Hey...we need to talk. And I'm going to need you help. I know you can't swim, so I was thinking. With all the damage the waves did, there's bound to be enough wood here to make a raft of sorts. See, it takes me a little while to regain my energy from doing magic, and I don't want to depend on it unless we have no choice. And we have to get the horses off this hill. If we could make a raft, we could get to safety. Or if we could find a life boat from one of the ships, that might work too. You wouldn't have to swim. I'm willing to try maybe a Levitation spell, or maybe even just sprinkling you with some of my Faery Dust to make you and the horses fly." That sounded like a really good idea.

"I got it! I'll make the horses fly with magic and we can ride them! I know it would be strange for you, but maybe if you turned to your Human form, it wouldn't be so bad." Wasn't sure what he would think of her ideas, but at least she was coming up with some. She knew he'd be hungry and needing to eat. "What do you think? The sooner we leave this hill...the sooner you can hunt. Just promise me, -no more- people. Please." The expression she gave him was a hopeful one.

Verial could enter dreams with no problem; it was a family "gift". However, he often did not like doing it as dreams are usually personal and unlike some of his other kin, he tried to root his feet firmly on the grounds of reality whenever possible. Nevertheless, when he saw the condition Aursra was in, succumbed to a state of sickness mostly from her subconscious, he knew he would have to take another leap into the world of dreams.

For a moment, Verial stood going to Mycha and took her harp gently from her hands, putting it aside. When he was done, he carried her over to a spot on the bed where she could get some rest after her long hours of strumming that stringed musical instrument trying to soothe Aursra's nightmares. A hand went to the little girl's cheek and Verial nodded, though she could not see it.

"I'll take care of your mother. Don't worry," Verial said. "You get some rest now, Mycha."

After the little girl would be asleep, Verial went to Aursra who was lying across the bed. Though she was not aware, Verial pulled her into his lap and wrapped his arms around her sleeping form, one hand gracing her forehead. She had a fever and Verial could tell something was keeping her locked inside her dreams. Though there was a certain sort of recognition he got from Aursra's body whenever she heard his voice or felt his touch from however far away she actually was.

And then just like that, with his hand upon her forehead, Verial felt a tug into Aursra's dreams and went to join her. He had no idea what lurked around the corner. After all, the first few moments before descending inside a dream are complete darkness until the setting would be revealed for Verial. So quietly he waited and stood, not daring to venture into that black void before the illusions of the subconscious came to light.

(continued from chat)

It was, in Deanna's humble opinion, for the best when Quinn swept her away from the tavern's rooftop for what he termed 'seek and find'.

Not only would it give Wish and Victor some alone time, but it prevented Deanna from snacking on Wish again, which after her method of healing, was indeed a likely possibility. Wish's blood was highly potent, a drug of some sorts for the therianthrope, and the side effect was Deanna feeling pretty damn good. Too good.

She and Quinn took advantage of her state of mind, and enjoyed their solitude on a nearby rooftop which Deanna was pretty sure a general store of some sorts if memory served her correct, which was a bit foggy presently. The sun beat down upon their skins and although neither seemed to notice or mind, eventually they would have to remedy their situation. Deanna always thought the sun was a delicious welcome from the cold, but too much of a good thing could prove hazardous and eventually would.

Despite her newfound bliss, some part of Deanna's working brain nudged her up and onward. She managed to coax a reluctant Quinn into separating, knowing that they would cover more distance apart. Agreeing on a rendezvous time, Quinn shifted forms once more as did she, and they departed their little private sanctuary to scout for signs of people and perhaps if they were lucky, food.

Needless to say, a therianthrope in her bestial form was not a welcomed sight. It was far easier for Deanna to leap from one rooftop to another in this physical state, but for already frightened civilians who were stranded like they had been (and still were to some degree), her presence was an unwanted and terrifying one. It did not matter that she offered explanation and even assistance to those who looked like they might need it, for all the refugees of Aleris saw was a monstrosity looking for a meal.

Disgusted, Deanna finally gave up the search for supplies, and hoped Quinn fared better than she. The only information she found of use was that almost all of the rooftops of the buildings that decorated the streets of the Grand City (or rather, those that were tall enough to rise above the seawater), were littered to near full capacity of any who managed to escape the wrath of the tidal waves. Deanna was heartsick by the time she found her way back to the secluded area where they made their brief camp.

She shifted back into her human form while waiting for Quinn, half expecting her nose to bleed and the headache to return. Deanna had a theory on what was causing her body to react in such a manner, but was afraid to bring up the issue with Quinn. He worried enough about her, and considering that she wasn't absolute on the matter, didn't see the reason to add another frown line to his forehead. She was mulling over these thoughts as she peered down to regard her reflection in the waters.

The sun burned brightly overhead and surprisingly enough, the water appeared clear enough for her to examine her facial features. Still youthful in their own way, but there was a tightness around her eyes that hadn't been there before, or had it? Perhaps a few lines around her mouth due to frowning. Annoyed, she slapped at her image, wondering why she was concerning herself with such tedious thinking when they had far more important problems on their hands. And that's when she saw the body floating by.

Deanna recoiled in horror at the sight. Not that she hadn't seen corpses before, hell she even helped create a few, but the sight of the once golden haired little girl floating past the general store, her eyes wide and sightless, her skin a sickly grey color, filled Deanna with despair. Another sad little casualty in the cruel game played by the gods. Another reason for her to curse them, to loathe them. She could do naught but watch as the child corpse floated on by to horrify another unsuspecting survivor foolish enough to gaze into the watery graveyard.

A sickening thought passed through Deanna's mind, and she wondered what sort of vile creature she was for even considering the course of action she was about to take. They're just bodies. Don't think of them as people. She repeated the order to herself even as she began taking hefty breaths before diving into the unclean seawater.

The dead floated silently by everywhere she went and Deanna forced herself to see past them until she would come upon one that might be of use to her. The shifter was in top physical condition, and happened to be an excellent swimmer. She could fill her lungs with far more oxygen than an ordinary human, and with her heavy bone structure, required little to no energy spent to swim further under the waters. The salt originally stung at her eyes, but after a few moments she no longer felt the burn. Deanna had forgotten how much she enjoyed swimming, despite her watery playground littered with the remains of former Aleris citizens.

It didn't take long for Deanna to enter the store through one of the windows. The structure itself managed to remain intact, just like her beloved tavern, but there was no mistaking the damage done internally. Though dim inside the store, Deanna's eyesight had adjusted and she could see fairly well even in the poor light. Time was of the essence and she wasted none trying to discern if there was any suitable food to consume. No, Deanna's eyes were on a far bigger prize....fresh water. Ah! She let out air through her nostrils and sunk further down to where clay jars miraculously stood, their waxy seals unbroken. Grabbing three by their handles, she carefully weaved her way out of the store and to the surface, and not a moment too soon for her lungs began to burn.

She broke surface and gulped deep breaths of air, feeling a bit lightheaded. Her chest rose and fell as she set the jugs on the rooftop of the general store, before resting her arms on the ledge so that she could catch her breath. The shifter nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt something skim against her bare leg, and she turned quickly to see it was the body of a young male drifting lazily behind her. Deanna swallowed the bile in her throat and made a lunge for him, grabbing him by his ankle and pulled him toward her.

Don't look at him. Just strip him and be done with it. Nimble fingers tore at the buttons of the faded shirt he wore and worked just as quickly on his breeches. She knew she was desecrating the dead, but clothing was a priority for her as well as food and water, and at the moment, Deanna was lacking in the former thanks to her mate.

She heaved herself out of the water with the borrowed clothing in hand, and as she stood, water dripping off her nude form, she came face to face (well almost) with Quinn. Deanna threw her arms around her mate, grateful for his safe return. Quinn was nearly a foot taller than she at 6'8", and her head rested just shy of his shoulder. She felt him murmur softly to her as he kissed the top of her head. After several long moments, the two withdrew from each other's embrace and began examining their finds.

Deanna took note that somewhere along the way, her mate managed to procure a pair of pants, and she took great pains not to question from where...or whom. They fit him along the waist but were far too short for his long legs and fell just below the knee. Still riding her high from the fairy's blood, Deanna began to laugh at the sight of Quinn who shared in her amusement. He fared well for next to him was a flaxen sack that had a small assortment of apples, dried meat and salted fish. Deanna showed him the three clay jars she found and both hoped that they contained water, or if not, then wine. Something was better than nothing.

Quinn stripped out of his pants and handed them to Deanna who, with her own found clothing items, stuffed them in the sack as Quinn shifted once more into the werewolf that he was. He bundled the clay jars in his massive arms and began the trek back to where Wish and Victor were on top of her tavern. Deanna allowed the change to overtake her as well, the effects of which would eventually wear her down. Changing was not something did as easily as sneezing or blinking. It took physical exertion and a mental toll as well. It was in a word, exhausting, but a necessity. Deanna followed Quinn, sack in hand until finally they landed heavily on her rooftop.

Their companions appeared surprise to see them, and Deanna had to smirk as she wondered if it was due to the fact that they returned as promised, or had their hopes dashed that Quinn and Deanna actually returned...alive and well. Either way, the therianthropes donned their clothing quickly as Wish showed them her finds. Apparently the little fae was busy fishing in her tavern and managed to find edible food. Deanna's amber orbs found Wish's olive ones, and the shifter winked at her, a faint smile gracing her lips, but before she could make any crude comments, Wish had her attention diverted elsewhere.

Deanna had heard the sound that drew Wish's gaze, and she was sure Quinn had as well. She had finished knotting her shirt when she turned and settled her gaze upon a rooftop not too far off. And blinked.

"No, fae. This isn't good at all. I know I've said this before but..." she glanced at Quinn who regarded the newcomers with that casual ease of his. "I think we are so fucked."

Dragons. There were dragons. Lots of dragons. And people. Their garb was unusual and like Wish, Deanna deducted that these travelers were not from their lands. They had not acted in a hostile manner yet, but that meant nothing. Dragons, as far as Deanna was concerned, were weapons. She had seen what some could do, and these particular dragons made Verial and Kyrian look like household pets.

The four of them watched the newcomers warily, waiting for signs of trouble to come. Deanna began to tense, as patience wasn't a virtue she could claim. If they were going to attack, she wished they would get on with it already. Quinn placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, yet she noted his gaze hadn't wavered from the sight of the Outlanders. His outward calm was a ruse. Quinn was sizing up their potential opponents and mentally strategizing.

"Yeah," she sighed as she leaned against her mate. "We're fucked. Great."

Djarin studied the figures on the rooftop a moment, considering his options. Like the cities of Aste'Tenur and Euphoria, he had two approaches - hostile, or friendly. And like the two cities before, he chose the peaceful option. Communication would bring them to the revelation. And then there would be no need for a conflict.

He turned his good eye to Fingers. To his surprise, the sailor glowed. This glowing could only be seen through his blinded right eye. With it, the man looked like a flame. Turning his gaze to the others around him he noticed the phenomenon again. Everyone had this warm glow, burning but not consumed. Was this the blessing of Tempesturo?

He looked over at Deanna, Wish, and Quinn. They also had the flame. So it wasn't Tempesturos' blessing, unless they had already accepted Chaos, which he found unlikely. Their spirits, then?

He was even more shocked when he looked down to his missing right hand. There, visible plainly to his missing eye, in-tact fingers burned brightly. He clenched this invisible fist and smirked. What does this mean? He didn't know, but he felt elated at the sight of his long-lost hand, even if it was only in spirit.

Still grinning, he glanced back to Fingers and spoke in the Tral tongue. "Come with me, sailor. I'll need a translator."

Djarin climbed onto the back of Ternal, the one-eyed dragon. Fingers followed his lead and climbed onto another Kharl'at. Their legs dipping into the salty water, the pair rode towards the roof of the inn.

"Tell them we wish to speak to them," Djarin said, and Fingers hollered out the translated message as they approached the trio on the rooftop. "That we bring a revelation of Tempesturo that will save their lives." Djarin didn't wish to force them - not yet. But he needed more allies, he knew, if he was to approach the King. And something about these people on the rooftop implied power.

They were only feet away from the edge of the roof now, close enough that Fingers didn't need to raise his voice. The dragons they rode stared at the men and women on the taverns' rooftop, while from some twenty yards away the rest of his small band waited tensely. It was clear they were all ready to spring into action at the first sight of conflict. Djarin, the one-handed, one-eyed nomad, seemed oblivious to this tension as he studied the three on the rooftop.

"Tell them to take my hand." Djarin reached his left palm out towards the rooftop in a gesture of good will, knowing if they took it to help him onto the roof, they would be privy to the workings of his mind, the insanity of Tempesturo - knowing they would likely be converted.

--

The revelation Djarin offered is in equal parts simple and complex:

The simpler description involves immortality, the promise that sacrifice is only temporary. In fact, it is a mortals need to cling to their desires that makes them so weak. This first revelation is what defines the pack of travelers from distant Heruin - none of them had thirsted for food or water for weeks, yet they remained in perfect health. Djarin took such sacrifices further, and already he was beginning to reap the benefits.

The more complicated part of the revelation he has spread involves not the sacrifices of the mortals, but the sacrifices of the Gods - namely Tempesturo. It is through his Chaos that balance is maintained. It is the nature of Chaos that all things must eventually change - in fact, this is the only predictable aspect of the otherwise destructive force. Thus, to resist change is to disturb balance, to impede Tempesturos' divine duty. This second aspect ties closely into the first, for sacrifice inevitably leads to change, making sacrifice necessary.

By resisting sacrifice, one resists change, a fools errand. Life requires death - for life to exist, the sacrifice of death is required. The future requires the past - for the future to exist, the past must be discarded, sacrificed forever. Everything relies on these concepts, even the seasons. For spring to exist, winter must ravage the land. It is obvious that sacrifice is inevitable, and that resistance only impedes the divinity of the gods. Through sacrifice, a person can achieve divinity themselves, and help Tempesturo in his blessed responsibility.

In many ways, these revelations change the fundamental beliefs of those who embrace them. The twisted truths Djarin revealed inevitably led to one conclusion to all followers - that this knowledge must be spread at any cost, to hasten the end of this cycle and the beginning of the next. Sacrifice and change has come onto Aleris, whether or not those who lived here embraced it, and Djarin and his followers were here to ensure that this message was heard.

Unfortunately, this was a revelation best shared through contact. Words were not enough.

Take my hand, Djarin willed as they waited in the water, his left palm extended towards the nearest figure on the roof.

I have a theory; When things look like they're about to get better, that's when the shit really hits. Now don't get me wrong, I'd love to have the happy-go-lucky attitude that Quinn appeared to have, however it's just not realistic. Life has shown me that with every good thing, comes a bad thing. It just so happened that our good thing was that the trio of Quinn, Deanna, and Wish had found some food and water. The bad thing, well we were now facing down an army of outsiders and dragons. DRAGONS for crying out loud!

I'd sat by and allowed Wish to go swimming into the tavern. I'd even stood by while Deanna and Quinn took off after having healed Wish in a most...unorthodox way (to say the least). However when you're staring down an army with Dragons, standing on rooftops surrounded by water, all you can really do is stand and wait to see what will happen next. Well, that and prepare a barrier that would hopefully hold them back if they decided to attack rather than talk peacefully.

Luckily that was exactly what they intended to do apparently. Two of the men broke off and came over towards us. One spoke and the other translated what he said. It was interesting to say the least. How someone would know both languages well enough to translate for them peaked my interest. Tons of questions went through my mind before I finally figured that I'd ask them later. Assuming there would be a later.

What I heard however wasn't something I liked at all. I've been preached at by many people in my life and none of them sounded any less crazy than the last. And this guy so far didn't sound much different. The main difference between him and everyone else was that he had a small army and dragons. Crazy people were bad. Crazy people en mass were even worse. He wanted to talk, so I figured the best thing to do would be to listen. At least for now.

I reached my hand out to take his and help him onto the roof of the tavern. As our hands met my mind exploded. Images flashed through my mind and with those images words, feelings, meanings. Sacrifice with the promise of immortality. But it was more than that. It was sheer lunacy. I was looking into the mind of a maniac. And worse yet, it was a maniac with followers.

My power came from my belief, the problem was, so did theirs. This was going to be a battle of will and conviction, not just might vs might. As both Wish and Deanna had said, this wasn't good. This wasn't good at all. And the longer we kept our hands together the more power I felt coming from the one eyed man, trying to convince me that his way was right.

I yanked my hand back away from him, and fell backwards in doing so. It took me a minute before I remembered the others. Wish, I couldn't let her touch him! "Stay away from him! Don't let the one eyed man touch you!" I felt someone coming up behind me to check on me and pushed them away. "Stay back!" I didn't know if I'd just pushed Quinn, or De, or Wish, but I didn't want to take my eyes off of the two men before me. They were dangerous and I didn't want to lose sight of them.

Faith is a strong thing. Faith gives us power. Power that can help make the world better or worse. And what I saw inside that man's head wasn't better. It was worse. A lot worse. I had a bad feeling about this.