Veszelya had never considered herself much of a pessimist. It took a person with at least some modicum of hope in her breast to peel herself off the floor of a crypt and stumble blinking out into an unfamiliar hillside, much less to then take that resurrection in stride enough to make it all the way from Limgrave to Liurnia. But it was getting a little difficult to hang onto that optimism, now that her laborious two-day trek from the lakebed to the cliffside had culminated in...this.

She had found the tower she sought, most certainly. A vertical stone structure very much like the other two she'd previously encountered, it jutted grey and weather-worn out of the hilltop. It matched perfectly the description Miriel, the great turtle at the Church of Vows, had given.

"That tower is the seat of the Sorceress of the Stars. No relation to the Carian Royal Family, you must understand. Indeed, she is rather something else entirely..."

The grassy approach to the tower was dappled with vibrant blue flowers and standing stones of crumbling granite. The few trees there were slender little things, allowing an unimpeded view of the bright blue sky beyond the cliffside. Zelya fancied it a seat that any mysterious sorceress might covet - only slightly marred by the fact that there was an enormous giant planted squarely in front of it.

He had his back turned for the moment, but that could change at any minute. Besides, his angle meant that once she snuck around the side of him, he was bound to notice her creeping past to the door, and then she would be stuck between him and the tower. Even if that funny helmet cut off his peripheral vision, the Tarnished doubted her ability to sneak ably on legs experiencing such a terrible bout of pins and needles. The sorceress gritted her teeth, and did her best to adjust her crouched position without making any noise. Miriel was a nice enough turtle, but not only had he failed to mention the giant, he had also failed to mention that this tower was, in fact, distinct from the other tower that had nearly set her brain alight. Perhaps his venerable age was making him forgetful.

Ten minutes of watching him from behind a rock, and the giant hadn’t moved. Zelya sighed. Forget it. She would make the break, and hopefully she could manage to hammer on the door a couple of times before being pulped against it. Sucking in a deep breath, she gripped her staff, rose, and began sprinting towards the tower as quietly as she could manage.

Only Roger’s window

@wishcast

At some point in the night the wolves howling had stopped. The caravan of merchants the soldiers were accompanying had been followed by the howlign of the pack like by an echo throught he whole track through the forest. Like an echo, or like a warning. In the night the carvan had put up fires and the soldiers had patrolled aroudn the camp while the merchants slepw oth the thick canopy of leafs above their heads like a blanket, yet eventually the howling had stopped and the snarling had started. So loud. Too loud. Much too loud because the wolves had been so close.

Now in the morning most of the wolfpack had escaped to hide in the thick shadows hanging like curtains between the trees and those that had not fled were still laying dead on the damp forestfloor where they had been struck down by the guards and now the grey sunlight falling through the treeleafs drew grey circles like headstones around them. The merchants in the camp were busy to break off camp to be on their way as fast as possible before the shadows between the trees past the glade could turn long enough to catch them before they could leave the forest safely. Instead of the howling and the humm of tensionthat had lay over the camp, now there were nothing but busy chatters and hasty footsteps whispering over the glade. Yet the packs howlings echo still lay thickly in the air like the scraps of a past nightmare in a sleepy heads mind.

The merchants and other soldiers washed past Mar who was sitting on a cart like riverwater while she sat still like a stone with her spear put on the cart beside her and her leg smeared with black blood like with black tar from a bitewound put up a sack of flour. Her ears flicked up and down attentive after everyone passing by and the scraps of conversations moving over the glade. Through the canopy of leafs above her head streaks of dull, grey sunlight fell on the glade to draw puddles of silver on the forestfloor and made the pale cloth she pressed on her leg look almost as if it was glowing. The Halforcs stark freckled ears flicked up and turned in her red hair forward by the sound of one of the members of the caravan kneel down infront of her to reach for the bitemark on Mars leg.

"...you do not have to do that, milady." Mar said quietly, softly, almost gently. She did not pushed the others hands away, but she did pulled in a sharp breath and promptly straightened her back as if she was seconds before battle adjusting her way of stance to hold a heavy shield. A shield to keep Auryn away. A shield to keep distance between them. A shiled Mar should have used the night before to better hide her leg.

@wishcast

The dark fae's pale face cracked into a smile. "Isn't it, obvious?" he chuckled, "I was lonely." His long fingered hands reached out for the woman's waist.

@wishcast

The second the other womans hands lay down on Mars shoulder to put the blanket over the Halforcs shoulders, Mar flinched as if she had been slapped . Straightening her back with her lips pressed so hard together it hurted, the woman - gently, much too gently, so gently as if the other was made og glass- took Auryns Hands from her shoulders. Then she stepped to the side softly to be out of her reach; the damp sand beneath her sandals rustled like silk and at the far edge of her midn she felt the edge of the waves lick on the side of her sandals. It was so early in the morning that the harbourtown at the end of the road was still sleeping deeply under the thick layer of mist hanging over it, over the travlers, over the line of grey colourless beach, over the like liquid steel looking waterline, over the streak of boney white trees growing beside the beaten path through the beachsand. The forest into which the pale, leafless trees growing along the shore would turn into was thick and wild, so the path to the town lead along the beach with the shoreline to the left with waves that seemd to reach of every travlers feet and the line of trees to the right where between the pale branches darkness hung thickly that was ready to swallow everyone foolish enough to not walk along the shore. The mist lay around them so thickly that the oceanwaves were barely visible and were nothing but a wisp of noise at one side, barely hearable against the noise of feet walking on damp, grey sand beneath. It was quiet- the harbourtown that was only a dark shape int he mists greyness was quiet, the waves were nothing but a whisper and the forest lurked darkly as if holding its breath before jumping to attack. The sea was ready to devour whoever got too deep into the icy water, yet still the forest just waited and was ready to bite with dark teeth that were old branches. This way the path by the shore was safer than any other alternative even if it was cold, the sand beneath was damp and the harbourtown was still too far away. Mar felt that her voice was too loud agaisnt the stillness of the much too early morning. She cleared her throat stiffly.

He seemed more the startled animal than the one that had left a gash on his arm before fleeing back into the woods. Backing away, Adam clamped his other hand around as much as the wound as he could though the blood still seeped through between his fingers. "Who are you?" he asked in a voice that was dry and sounded as if its owner had not slept in days. The dark circles around his eyes served of proof of that but his eyes themselves were strangely bright.