I'm the sword, tell me where.

He can keep himself upright as he feels a tendril of something spoiled coiling through his throat and chest like the crawl of a bruise. Under the skin a tenderness has set in with almost a sore and resounding pain as breathing stretches his skin across his ribs and bones while his insides tightened with each inhale that filled his body. The pressure was almost like a burgeoning had begun somewhere deep inside his chest and settled like a heavy, burdensome weight not unlike, unlike—

He gives a small, hearty clearing of his throat as Henry takes a particular interest in him. He can't blame the man, he had come to Henry for a reason and that reason was his proficiency with unknowable things, at least in Lon'qu's eyes. He knows what Henry dabbles in could be considered more as an alternative medicine, but he's not sure how he feels about it even after their service together. He's still not trusting of magic, even as he dips his own toes in it sometimes, he's still distrustful of it.

His eyes are alight as he takes the petals into his hand. It almost looks like the leaves are decorated in rust — and that's unbelievably cool! He's never seen this up close before, but the description and the blood-covered petals click with a flicker of memory: petals in his throat, constricting his chest...

Henry nearly jumps up from his seat. The thought of slowing down bypasses him completely; instead, he feels that his limbs are buzzing from the way all the puzzle pieces fall into place. Excitement ripe in his voice, he waves the petals in front of Lon'qu's face — as if he hadn't seen them before? — and gasps. "I've heard of this before! It's a fascinating disease. Super interesting — like fits right into my interests! Thanks for showing me this, Lon'qu!"

Well, the exhibition probably wasn't Lon'qu's reason for coming to Henry, but anyway — "If left untreated, I heard it KILLS ya! Something, something, and the flowers suffocate you until your corpse is nothing but a flowerbed! Just petals and petals," he gestures by swiping his hand from his mouth to the ground, "and petals and petals, all spilling out of your face. Blood and spit and all, nya ha!"

"But it's super painful, and we can't have someone like you go through that, huh?" He claps Lon'qu on the shoulder, smile unwavering. The cure and avoidance of death is payment for Lon'qu showing him this disease, of course! "Too bad I don't remember if there's a cure, buuuuut—"

He lifts the petals up. They aren't fresh, not fully alive anymore, but there's one way that he can get fresh flowers to chat with! Henry tosses the scraps aside and places a hand right in front of Lon'qu's mouth, beckoning.

If his expression wasn't already steeled he might have had to make himself suck up his worry as he found his tongue larger, thicker, in his mouth and putting pressure on his teeth. The tension in his jaw was already set uncomfortably tight when the old, rusty petal did stir something within Henry's unsettling preoccupations. He twirled and bathed in the aura of the room, a confidence Lon'qu could only declare: Henry. While the other was not a man who Lon'qu had in deep association with for personal reasons, he was nothing but an... honest fellow.

A clap on the shoulders for his eccentricities and Lon'qu wants to take it all back.

What he was asking for was impossible, he tells you, but his brain steels his worry behind reason. Surely, a scientist must see a creature to study it... But that reason was soon sleuth internally to be false hope in his eyes as he thought harder. For every second of Lon'qu's freezing dread of not knowing, Henry was extending a palm and giving such a heartfelt inquiry for his own interests.

A burning column in his throat is without explanation now, he had felt the signs of movement under his skin like a snake coiling his body. The warmth is skin deep for a second before he realizes his ribs weren't tighter, per say, but at least not worse. Like a snake uncoiling to burst in speedy determination.

He turned the hand palm away with a wrinkle of his nose, honestly bewildered by the... audacity. "All  that  information  and  no  cure  swimming  around,  I'm  guessing  your  playing  with  me  after  that  declaration," he let his displeasure be known, "or  you  really  don't  know  it.  I  have  not  qualms  with  your  attempts  to  talk  to  plants  but..."

A long, pregnant pause settles between them as Lon'qu actually has his eyes dart to the walls. Nervousness.

He picks up on the urgency lacing his words: amiss within my constitution. How curious! This is like... a mystery! A puzzle! His book is tossed to the side as he stands eagerly from his seat; it's something interesting for the day!

“Oh, I always have time! Did something happen to you?” Henry leans over to take a closer look at the side of Lon’qu’s face — one side with piqued interest, and then the other with furrowed confusion. There's nothing noticeable, really, beyond the stoic face he’s seen before. “You look fine on the outside.”

A brief moment of pondering: maybe it’s something emotional? Something personal? Ooooh, maybe he was cursed — but Henry isn’t really detecting anything within his soul. So something important? But what could be so important as to warrant a sudden visit and conversation? He gives Lon'qu little — or no, really — time to respond, instead jumping in with one more theory.

He can keep himself upright as he feels a tendril of something spoiled coiling through his throat and chest like the crawl of a bruise. Under the skin a tenderness has set in with almost a sore and resounding pain as breathing stretches his skin across his ribs and bones while his insides tightened with each inhale that filled his body. The pressure was almost like a burgeoning had begun somewhere deep inside his chest and settled like a heavy, burdensome weight not unlike, unlike—

He gives a small, hearty clearing of his throat as Henry takes a particular interest in him. He can't blame the man, he had come to Henry for a reason and that reason was his proficiency with unknowable things, at least in Lon'qu's eyes. He knows what Henry dabbles in could be considered more as an alternative medicine, but he's not sure how he feels about it even after their service together. He's still not trusting of magic, even as he dips his own toes in it sometimes, he's still distrustful of it.

... But that does not mean that there is no merit to any game. For example, the current game that is sweeping the monastery, she finds entirely fascinating. Perhaps the prize of “a stick” is not exactly noteworthy to her, but perhaps it isn’t about the prize. It’s about proving one’s prowess with the sword, about fighting with something lighter and more brittle, about holding one’s own against their companions and, most importantly, doing so in an arena where they were unlikely to sustain any serious wounds.

In fact, when one looked at it that way, it was a very fascinating game, indeed.

Fiora is crouched above a well-trodden path, in hopes of finding a worthy opponent for this game, and she thinks she has found one — when he spots her first, and calls her out of her place.

"Bah... ! For goodness sake!" He exclaims.

He had been expecting sand to get thrown at him, and his behavior was worse then if she had thrown sand at him. While he knows it's a good chance he'll run into a lady anywhere on campus he had faith in the face this seemed a tad too childish for someone grown to indulge in. But then again, with some familiar faces in passing who weren't students, he should have known the numbers were far too skewed...

Maybe he just was too hopeful. Or maybe he was just not a good people reader. Or something else he can't explore as his heart rate beats out of his chest—his adrenaline leaning towards flight as he barely holds himself still.

Niles pulls an arrow from his quiver and draws it back on his bowstring. It's pulled tight, his right hand holding the nock is just barely touching his cheek while his left arm, straight in front of him, aims as he looks for a clean shot between the other allies striking the creature with their weapons. It's a few more seconds before Niles sees an opening: between the creature's heavy swings of his mismatched limbs. He releases his arrow and it flies into the back of the creature's shoulder with a wet shlunk. One of the monster's limbs claws at his back in a half hearted attempt to rip the arrow out before resuming it's pursuit of Victor.

NILES 10/10HP hits THE CREATURE 26.5HP with IRON BOW at RANGE roll: 17; 1.5 + -0.5def = 2, THE CREATURE 24.5/31HP THE CREATURE 24.5/31HP cannot counterattack.

A piercing roar cuts through the air, followed by a thud and a scream. Earth itself ripples from the force, and Henry catches a brief glimpse of it in the distance: borrowed fists taking aim at the scrambling kid.

THE CREATURE 24.5/31HP hits VICTOR 19/19HP four times with FISTS OF RAGE. [ Roll: 9, 11, 4, 12; 4 x (2 + 1 DEF DEBUFF) = 12 DMG, VICTOR 7/19HP ]

It hits — not once, not twice, not thrice — and what flickers in Henry's eyes is a mixture of concern and growing intrigue. The target of this monster's range (Victor, was it?) was pale to the point of translucence in the moonlight: whether it was from the fear as violence pummeled down upon him, or whether it was from the scarlet wounds that now marred his body, Henry didn't really know. Oh, but how is it possible for such a monster to be created, and for such a creature to require an entire crew to kill? How could a kid like him be capable of creating such a thing?

Well, there's really only one way for Henry to get his answers, and that's by making sure Victor gets out alive! Will he, at the moment? He shrugs to himself: probably not, if he has to be honest, given the uncontrollable rage of this creature... but that's okay! Right? As long as they kill the creature, then...

Oh! Maybe Henry can claim a limb for his own research?

Henry claps his hands together, collecting his next spell in his palms. Now that there are allies here, he should start making claims before the others start scrambling for it, too. Not that they ever do, but: "Calling dibs on his leg, by the way!"

HENRY 10/10HP hits THE CREATURE 24.5/31HP with MIRE at RANGE. [ Roll: 17; 0.5 - 0.5 RES = 0 DMG, THE CREATURE 24.5/31HP ] THE CREATURE 24.5/31HP is inflicted with -1 DEFENSE.

She had been so certain. She had been so sure that this creature had been created for the purpose of serving Victor. That it would do his bidding. Perhaps it had been sent to attack them for snooping and learning too much. A mindless being.

Altena thinks she might have assumed wrong.

"We don't have to fight!" She wonders if it might be able to listen to reason but it simply lets out an anguished groan in response. Subdue it then?

She sighs and brandishes her lance again. It does not feel right fighting something that is not attacking her or her allies unless provoked but she is not sure what else she might do.

ALTENA 8/10HP hits THE CREATURE 25.5/31HP with IRON LANCE. [Roll: 10; 1.5 + 1 = 2.5HP, THE CREATURE 22/31HP]

This time, her lance strikes true. She had been watching the others strike and attack, watching the way the creature responded. It seems her diligence has paid off.

THE CREATURE 31/32HP counterattacks ALTENA 8/10HP with FISTS OF RAGE.

[Roll: 12; 1 + 1 - 1 = 1, ALTENA 7/10HP]

[Roll: 15; 1 + 1 - 1 = 1, ALTENA 6/10HP]

She anticipates the strikes of its fists again and, even if she is not as quick on her feet as she is on her wyvern, even if she is unable to dodge out of the way, she is ready for the hits. She's still standing and she still has some fight left in her.

After the arrows fly, the flames dissipate in intensity with a burning air in its wake, and the wyvern ducks out then the creature roars in its own way. Chest pushed up, arms thrown wide, and while mostly releasing sounds of pain, he was unsure if the creature was just unable to form words anymore, and air escapes as it charges. It wanted to run over Victor no doubt, but Lon'qu had seen the efforts of his teammates—even if Victor and he had been on dour terms.

LON’QU 6/10HP hits THE CREATURE 24.5/31HP with IRON SWORD. [Roll: 8; 0.5 + -0.5Def = -1HP, THE CREATURE 23.5/31HP]

Drawing his blade backwards he dashes forward to slice at the encroaching fist, and meets the downward strike with slicing through its fingers. The sensitive area to some is hard and bony on this creature, even if the fist still bleeds, but the pain was evident as it missed its first target. The shock was for naught as Lon'qu felt something amiss as the creature continued to fall forward, still heavy on its feet, unless—

THE CREATURE 30/32HP counterattacks LON’QU 6/10HP with FISTS OF RAGE. [Roll: 15; -2HP, LON’QU 4/10HP]

[Roll: 19; -4 HP, Crit!, LON’QU 0/10HP]

One of its hands was cut open by his blade. One grabs the blade it had been cut by and drags him with its heavy grip, his arm wrenching back to expose his chest as he's caught off-guard. It was fast, too fast, when two large fists from the other side of its body struck at Lon'qu's chest. The collision was audible to all if they could hear over the war-like commotion, and Lon'qu hit the ground with a solid, heavy noise. Unmoving on the ground was Lon'qu in a puff of dust and burning grass...

...and the creature snaps the iron sword as it finally drops it.

The creature lumbers on. It's too big. Too pieced together. Too alive when it should be resting peacefully.

The mystery of the grave robbing is, at least, solved but Altena has to wonder at what cost. It's unnatural and she cannot help but equate the situation to one she's seen before.

"He can create Deadlords!?"

They need to be stopped. Both of them. But, right now, Altena's focus is on the creature.

Brandishing a lance, she calls out to it, attempting to draw its attention.

"You! Stand down!" She has seen how powerful the dead brought back can be but she is ready. Those bodies. Those people. They deserve to remain at rest.

ALTENA 10/10HP misses THE CREATURE 31/31HP with IRON LANCE. [Roll: 3; 0, THE CREATURE 31/31HP]

She lunges toward it and misses, surprised at how agile it is for its size.

"Ah!" The creature retaliates. Of course it does. She would not expect anything less but she holds her ground and stays firm. Even as it swings both of its fists at her in a rage.

THE CREATURE 31/32HP counterattacks ALTENA 10/10HP with FISTS OF RAGE. [Roll: 9; 1 + 1 - 1 = 1, ALTENA 9/10HP]

[Roll: 8; 1 + 1 - 1 = 1, ALTENA 8/10HP]

"Be careful!" Altena warns the others. "It's strong!"

LON’QU 10/10HP hits THE CREATURE 31/32HP with IRON SWORD. [Roll: 9; 0.5 + -0.5Def, THE CREATURE 30/31HP]

While his teammate goes before him he realigns himself with the tendons of the creature's lower body. Going for the wrists or multiple limbs sounds like a good idea but if he misses even once while within hand-to-hand range then a sword will only protect him so much. He adjusts himself closer to the ground and aims for the lower half of this foes mass, and he draws the blade through the discomfort nonetheless. With the carnage and swinging around the creature is sure to not hear him at least knocking steel against his guard, and that split second is enough to cut forward.

It saw him for a second near his lunge and attack arc, so while he didn't slash at anything delicate it did still cut through its calves with a hearty slice. His strike was dampened from his folly but he doesn't take any mind outside of adjusting his attic for next time, he looks to turn around alongside whatever this was reeling in pain.

THE CREATURE 30/32HP counterattacks LON’QU 10/10HP with FISTS OF RAGE.

[Roll: 4; 1 + 1 = 2, LON’QU 8/10HP] + [Roll: 5; 1 + 1 = 2, LON’QU 6/10HP]

The swordmasters strike was definitely effective but the cuts only caused the creature to fall back in its thrashing. While he's sure that saved him a devastating blow this was not anything to scoff at. The creature's many arms went up as it fell back and to its right, its arms almost punching out like a tantruming child with sounds worse than any far gone Risen. That spin caught Lon'qu in the shoulder once, twice before it went down and scrambled to pick itself up. He was sent flying by such a blow but staying so close to the ground at least allowed him to not go flying anywhere untoward or overly dangerous.

He glances back over at Mr. Clover, smile still wide atop his face. "Mr. Clover, did you have a role in killing her? You can be very honest with us both! Won't tell a single soul," he puts a finger to his lips, before pausing, "probably."

Astonishment is too lax of a word to describe the expression that crosses his face — it's instead a mixture of horror, of anger at the mere insinuation that he was involved in some capacity, finally released after holding itself back. "Pardon me?" His frown deepened as cheeks glowed bright red. "You think I would have a role in the killing of... my own daughter? You—!"

Wow! Henry doesn't expect the finger jabbed in his direction. It's a little too close for his own comfort, and he stumbles back at the man's anger. "It's an honest question," he justifies. "You're a pretty good lead here! Kinda hard to suspect anyone else—"

"Did you academy vermin think to look further downstream?" Oh, are his eyes bulging out of his head? Henry thinks it looks pretty cool— wait, that's not the point right now. "Giant footprints in the mud, sunken in nearly half-meter deep? An indent in the mud that cradled her corpse? Did your little minds ever consider that may be relevant?"

A blink at the man, then another look over at Lon'qu. Hm, Henry can't tell how genuine the anger is, but it feels pretty solid, huh? "Whoopsies." This time, his smile carries more sheepishness than it does empty joy. "I didn't see that, really."

"Oh, I saw them well. You sent me out that far looking after my companion here with your tip, but you pointed me in that direction nonetheless." His expression gave nothing away as he keeps his steadfast grip on his hilt. "Either a large person, a person carrying something far too heavy, or a creature beyond human comprehension, no doubt."

The footprints had indeed been deep enough for the impression of height beyond measure, but proportions elsewhere matter not in the scheme of most things when all you have is a footprint. The footprint gives way that it was bipedal at least, especially paired with a two handed grip for strangulation. While Mr. Clover is not outright his first suspect, the man had not made this any more easy for them, and was rapidly rising on his list for something else.

"And yet you're looking into me when the attackers are on the loose. I suspect you're expecting me to suddenly turn into this enemy and you apprehend me?" Mr. Clover brushes off his cuffs and fixes his sleeves, the chilly air no doubt causes his fingers to move so they don't get too cold.

Oh, but whatever! Clover or not, they're here for a mission — and frankly, Lon'qu is a lot more of an interesting person to work with (and also one that Henry cares juuuust a little more about).

He waddles over to Lon'qu and places his arm atop his shoulder, somewhat as an apology for the spell. "I just got here to take a quick look," he whispered, breath right against his ear. "Did ya find anything interesting? Any signs of fights? Maaaaaybe more body parts?"

"I don't know if you saw the body either." Oh, who was Henry kidding? He was far from a whisper and definitely a lot louder than he had anticipated — all directly at Lon'qu. "But they strangled her for sure! Marks and bruises alllllll," he traced a line around his own neck, holding the note ("-lllllllll-") as he did so, "here."

... Lon'qu should have seen the behavior coming, and he probably did deep down as it was no surprise as the whims carry on nonetheless, but he still lets out a long breath through his nose. At least they weren't alone against this situation anymore and he divided his attention to Henry as he shows and mimics the signs of strangulation. He lets the quirk of airing their business go as he processes what the other is telling him for an extended pause.

"... I did see the damage but I was sent off to find a suspicious person, so I hadn't looked too far into it. Trying to make sure nothing was changed without disturbing it myself." Lon'qu gives an account of the body and related news, just like his previous position alongside Niles. "The damage is deliberate, unlike previous corpses that were torn limb and limb, and strangulation isn't something you'd do to a corpse. Unless it's…"

Vengeance? Revenge? But who'd maim corpses and leave this one... ? Mm. It doesn't seem to add up without prying into this man's life.

Mr. Clover tries to speak up from beside them. "Now, hold on—"

"It was the sister, correct? Victor wrote about his concern for her and yet he has wandered off back home and the father is out here, throwing us around like it doesn't matter. She was young and shouldn't have been far from home to begin with. Yet she was, and only we had any luck finding anything? Hmph." Lon'qu cuts off Mr. Clover and keeps his attention on Henry, although it was hard.

His mouth twitches in disdain as the thought of a little girl dying brings up too many memories he doesn't wish to show, and he fights his face from warping into anger. If he's to be on this mission, he should be calm about this.

It was made pretty clear to Henry what was going on as soon as he saw the body of the girl. Bright red eyes were immediately drawn to the bruising on the neck, blues and purples now desaturated from the ravages of time — a murder, clearly (and not the crow type!). As he brushed his way past the growing crowd toward the exit, he wondered who — or what — would kill an 8 year-old child.

Huh, how odd! The dug-up graves, now this? Was this all the doings of a strong curse, or were there more creatures involved? Seemed like this was a full-fledged mystery on their hands now! And man, oh man, this was definitely an exciting one!

Thus, Henry found himself at the river just shortly after, out of breath from his run here. Doesn't look like a site for death, if you were to ask him, but... there's something off-putting that he's yet to put a finger on. But the goosebumps on his arms... ooh!

He knelt down next to the bank, splashes from the rushing current occasionally lapping at his pants. Where to start with his interrogations? "Mr. Clover," he greeted, looking down at a small, wilting stem, "did you see anything strange recently?"

I did see a weird man. Spiky hair of sorts, very quiet demeanor. At Henry's tilt of the head, he continued. Was just here moments ago, and might still be around — you should watch your back!

"I'll keep a gooood eye out. Try to kill them before they kill me, y'know? Nya ha—"

Behind you! WATCH OUUUUUUT!

Henry jumped back upright, hands glowing violet as he spun to face the mysterious threat. Out of instinct (and perhaps, some itch to fight — it has been pretty boring lately), he didn't bother to take a clear look at the other and sent the spell flying at—

"Oh, Lon'qu!" He waved, grinning — right as the spell whizzed past his friend's head. Oopsies! Then, he looked back down at the grass. "You've got him all wrong! He can't be the murderer..." a pause, "right?"

"Henry! Watch where you're aiming your magic, we already have enough on our plates!" Not only the deceased who were vandalized, but also students up and leaving were no good for anyone. Especially not now of all times, Lon'qu is mostly exasperated. "And you should be more cautious. He told me the same thing about you, but much less with care."

He explains with a hand on his sword hilt, not at Henry, but just in case anything awry happens. In a brief explanation, he gives what Mr. Clover described as Henry. "A 'lanky fellow smelling of death and following the sounds of a murder, crows that do his bidding I bet'. I had a feeling something was amiss and headed the way he pointed me."

Lon'qu is none too pleased with the gentleman on the property as he draws closer. Perhaps the man had been banking on them not knowing each other and for them to take one another out in the forest for him, he can believe it. Even still, custodians and students alike are swarming this case and perhaps find themselves here or there, and this man plays with lives. Lon'qu does not hold back his distaste.

"Mr. Clover, I know I addressed you with my credentials, did I not?

Mr. Clover obfuscated. "The academy simply said they would send workers, how am I to know some thug is a part of such curriculum for the next generation? Not a Knight of Seiros, or even a holy monk, bah. If you're coming indoors or not, do whatever."