(Story Event) Prison Rescue: Success

The Getaway

With the death of Warden and most of the guards overseeing the prison either slain or surrendered, the imprisoned squad cheered and celebrated their release. For most, it has been years since they have seen anything but the inside of their cells. However, a gale came and brought with it a welcoming surprise; they were freed, at last.

Astor

As the group spent some time picking themselves up, Astor grabbed onto his weary face with his still-trembling hand. It had been an excruciatingly long day and he almost felt like he was ready to crumble onto the floor.

Yet, it was not over, he had no idea what was going to happen when he, his groups, and the freed prisoners make their way up the stairs. Would they find their comrades waiting for them with open arms? Or will be greeted with arrows and spears, which had brought them here. Shaking away his hesitation, Astor spoke up with a pretentiously willful voice,

“from now on, all of you outcasts are free to join Astorea as its citizenry, it doesn’t matter where you came from or what you have done, so long as you stand with my nation, I will provide you with shelter and a new life. I am uncertain what is beyond these stairs, however, pick up arms and fight for your freedom. Let’s go!”

After finishing the brief speech, Astor opened his UI tapped on the spell window, summoning an icy shield that he held up in front of him as he began making his way up the staircase, charging through the entrance into what appeared to be a barrack littered with corpses. Astor immediately, smelled something burning in the distance, which drew his attention and made him tighten his body as he entered a state of alert.

Before he had time to react, a guard flew toward his direction, crashing into him. With no strength to weather the impact, Astor collapsed onto the floor. A feminine figure approached the group…

 

The day before the rescue, D’vangelline split up from the orange rescue team in pursuit of a supposed 6th outpost. However, it turned out to be a set up to capture her. Even without the majority of her riders, the princess was an accomplished warrior, and as such dispatched the ambush with six of her cavalry.

She spared the spy in order to figure out how they were able to track and set her up. The scout saboteur mentioned that they received words from a patrol and decided to put together an impromptu bait for her. D’vangelline was not interest in whether or not the spy’s words were true and killed him anyways; there was no room for mercy in war.

By the time her and her rider came back, the orange team (@Kaede Hoshi @Alonso Thorlion @Emil Trevelyan @Aerana @Seigi @Megan Tritor) had escaped already, after setting the fortress’ forge and equipment storage ablaze. The entire town was in a complete panic. D’vangelline used this chaos and tricked the guards into believing that she was one of her younger sisters by putting on a disguise as well as swapping out her banners. They bought her trickery hook, line, and sinker, allowing her to waltz into the fortress, where she and her men quickly headed to the barrack, which was right next to the keep.

A group of ring-eyed soldiers did not fall for her disguise, however, and heckled her about her business. Knowing that she could not reason with such people, D’vangelline and her group slaughtered the entire barrack, leaving not a single man to tell the tale. That was where she met Astor and his group.

"I am D’vangelline de Falder, first daughter of King Theodore de Falder, and I am here you save you all, who have been wronged by my father, from imprisonment. There is not a lot of time, so you must excuse me for not engaging in pleasantry. We have to get out of here and fast, my father is about to invade Astorea.

But there’s not time for me to disclose to you all everything I know. We can talk about all of this and catch up on the status of the back at your capital. For now, we must escape the barrack and head for a portal one of my men had been able to set up near here. If we get there, we’ll be able to quickly get back to Castle Dormon.

I actually came with a big entourage of your people who came with me on an eventful journey to get here, but most have returned to their wagon by now. But don’t worry, I commissioned the Ynglar for portals that the entourage could use to teleport back to the castle. They should be there, waiting for you all now.

Anyways, please get into the wheat wagons waiting outside, I will do my best to escort everyone out of here, so put your trust in me and stay hidden until I give the signal that it is safe to reveal yourself."

Knowing that many of the injured players and prisoners were shaken up physically and mentally, she helped escorting each of them out.

“One at a time, there you go. Yep, put that foot up first, careful, careful. Yosh, okay, that should be everyone!”

Once D’vangelline finished loading the people up into the wagon, she hopped into the one at the very front and gestured for the other six to join her. The wagons formed a trail and followed her out…

If you had follow D’vangelline out, there were several wagons full of hay being manned by the Princess’ troop. After hailing to the nearly dead group, they began to steer the horse and directed them to the central gate. It was their last hurdle.

Guard

“Hold! Where are you going with those hay, Princess Esmelie?”

A guard approached the line of wagons and beckoned D'vangelline to stop.

D'vangelline de Falder

Without batting so much as an eye to the sassy guard, D’vangelline glared him down.

“Do you not realize half of the fortress town is set ablaze? This is precious food from the King, do you want to watch it burn? I am escorting it out of town for a while until the fire calm down. But, I don’t know, at the rate it is going, your family is going to burn with the rest of the food if you don’t go and help put out the fire."

Guard

D'vangelline strong conviction and icy stare made the guard shrivel up as he quickly saluted to her before bowing his head before her in what appeared to be a genuine gesture of reconsideration for his disrespect of the crown.

“A-A-APPOLOGIES PRINCESS, I WILL GO HELP PUT OUT THE FIRE OUT, PLEASE FORGIVE MY RUDENESS!”

With that, D’vangelline and her riders let out a huge breath of relief as they quickly drove away from the fortress. Once they were on the road to the portal, D’vangelline gave the formerly-imprisoned squad the okay to reveal themselves and headed right toward the portal, racing against time.

Although the wagon was able to travel for two miles, they eventually broke and the group had to finish the rest of their journey on foot. It took a few hours for the group to reach the rendevouz, but as soon as D’vangelline waved her flag, the Ynglar Astral Mage began his ritual to open a portal back to Dormont.

Stepping through the portal induced an incredibly nasty feeling, almost as though the rift traveler was being stretched and have various organs displaced as they plowed through the gate where they eventually ended up back at the Astorean capital. They were back at long last… home, sweet home…

This story event took place after all of the imprisoned and rescue threads.
Everyone who was a part of any of the imprisoned thread have 1 post to wrap up their prison arc! No word-count!
Tag other people if you would like to interact with them.

Continuation here...​

 

Despite the entire mission being a great success, Alpha didn't feel an ounce of relief or joy. It had been a harsh day after being imprisoned, tortured, and forced to fight her way out. Underneath her nails was rapidly drying blood and the ends of her hairs were scorched and crumbly. Just the flutter of the stale wind through the hollow prison construct managed to fray off some pieces. Parts of her became nothing more than ash in the light, shriveled, broken, and destroyed beyond repair. She couldn't help but feel it was an analogy for something. She had, after all, lost more than just a good amount of hair and her overall cleanliness today.

Beretta. Naixi. And, finally, Ursa. She had been unable to save any of them. Although she'd known none of them well, each and every incident drew a stake into her heart and hopelessness overwhelmed her like a tidal wave engulfing a small, frail child. It reminded her of Terry. Of Arachna and Azog and Vermilion before the latter had become a trusted ally and mentor rather than a peculiar vampire. It reminded her of Narth's gentle face as he betrayed her trust and her own horror as the guards gutted her in two with precise knives and cold, cruel looks. She shuddered at the thought yet she couldn't seem to remove herself from her own mind. Despite free from shackles, chains, and prisons, she still felt trapped inside.

And it was by fear.

She poured her heart and soul into saving each and every one of them. She tried her very best to avenge Beretta. She tried her very best to change fate for Ashiore and Naixi (like she couldn't have done for Terry and herself). She couldn't even stop Ursa from sacrificing herself. She couldn't even revive a soul. She couldn't even help herself as she was skewered.

And that scared her.

Before this, she had often enjoyed exploring Terrasphere without an ounce of worry. If she died, she would be resurrected. If something bad happened, she always had the power to end it. And now? She felt powerless. As if her entire life was meaningless and she couldn't truly go against fate.

As everyone began to climb up the stairs and listen to Astor's speech, Alpha was too distracted to listen to a single word he had to say. The entire predicament now seemed distant to her. Her hands trembled. Her eyes were wide. Her knees shook just by standing and her lungs felt heavy. It was as if her breaths were beginning to grow suffocating (and wasn't that a conundrum).

And she was frightened.

She was frightened by the prospect of death. The unknown. The Risen. The concept that had took and plundered everything away from her. Even in a virtual reality where death never really stuck, it still took the lives of others. And she knew it was worse in reality, where a single mistake could lead her to simply fade away so suddenly. And she would never have a choice in it.

"I hate this," she mumbled, balling her hands into tight fists. Her nails dug into her palms, drawing fresh blood that stained and coated her fingers with a new later of red. "I hate this," she growled.

"I hate this!" she screamed to a world that wouldn't listen to her calls. For once in her life, Alphabet Chocolate truly hated something. And it was at that moment that she resolved that death and fate would never touch her with their chilling, skeletal claws. She'd become stronger than Gods or fate or death itself. She would defy those of the Elysid Court and she'd make Terrasphere a place where people like Ashiore, the woman who had revived her, wouldn't be sad with the loss of cherished friends. She'd make Terrasphere a place where it was endless fun without hopelessness. She'd make Terrasphere a place where a difference could be made and nothing was predestined.

Because she was Alphabet Chocolate, and she'd be damned if she yielded to anything. Even the Gods themselves.

 

Pieces of ice crumbled, crystals of snow falling apart as Ursa’s swan song broke to pieces, melting away as suddenly as they appeared. Ah. So that was it. That was her final hurrah, her great act, the miracle she paid with her own life. How grand. How glorious. She saved them all with her sacrifice. They could leave this, finally. They actually managed to survive all this and break out without any help from reinforcements. They did well. They fought hard. They never gave up even as their health dipped to the breaking point. So many sacrifices. So many selfless actions. So much of everything. They succeeded, like the heroes they were.

But…

WHAT THE FUCK.

IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT IT HURT

He should have loved this! A miracle born from self-sacrifice, not cheap tears! A final strike encapsulating the entirety of one’s existence, a crystallizing blow that would be spoken of for decades to come! He should be happy! But it was a spear gouging out his heart instead. A dagger exposing his spine. A spike rammed into his skull. A pain that burst like hellfire to hollow out his insides until everything dissolved to monotone as he fell apart from emotional agony. He shouldn’t have spoke those words. Shouldn’t have spurred her on. Shouldn’t have said any of that stupid bullshit when he knew, WHEN HE KNEW, that she only had one life. Life was short and much too cheap? That only ever applied to fuckwits like himself, drunk on immortality and here just to have a good time. Why didn’t she run? Why couldn’t she have taken a step back? Why couldn’t she just look at him and see what everyone else saw, an adrenaline junkie that was more interested in fulfilling impulses rather than living? Why did she listen?

His face twisted, contorted, shattered, disintegrated, falling to pieces and pieces and pieces as he gave up on masking his grief with anger. His persona. His strength. His tenacity. The chilling realization that if he hadn’t been so addicted to the idea of flashy, cool bullshit he’d be packing enough firepower to take down the monsters in her steed. A soundless scream stretched on for a transient eternity as she cried and cried and cried, hot tears gushing out of her eyes as her face burned with frustration and self-loathing. Why did it always turn out like this? Why was even a fantasy world, full of wish-fulfillment and fictional superpowers, bent on crushing her? What the hell’s going on? Can’t anyone tell her that?! A tooth broke as she clamped her jaw shut, but Danielle couldn’t even register the pain as she fell, her too-long limbs and her too-large hands grasping at the life that slipped between her fingers, grasped at the floor that was so hard to see with her tear-blinded eyes, grasped at the reality that made no fucking sense.

Snot clogged up her nose, grief clouded her mind, and all that remained was the pain and the grief, cycling between each other forever and forever and forever and forever as she lost all the pretty words she could have used to give her friend a breathtaking elegy. It never got easier, and fact and fiction never fucking mattered. Nails chipped, broke off, exposing the fleshy, bloody weakness beneath. Another tooth cracked under the pressure of her clenched jaw, physical pain preferable to emotional as her heartbeat escalated a hundredfold, hammering against her ribs until it became an eternal roar. And slowly, oh so slowly, Danielle stood back up, in the body that was too big for an inconsiderate, impulsive imbecile like herself. Three damning words rasped out of her shredded vocal cords.

“Shoulda been me.”

This was not the finale she had hoped for.

Her time with Ursa had been short, and much too priceless.

Bloodied hands wiped away the tears, leaving red streaks over his face instead as Cain knelt down before the still form of the Lightning-Eyed Tomcat, her flaxen hair resplendent as firelight reflected off crystalline snow. Even at this distance, he knew she was cold, no lingering warmth remaining due to the nature of death self-sacrifice. In the distance, he could hear the unintelligible babbling of those that claimed to have come to rescue them, those who had come to their aid only when everything else had been concluded. Astor, making more promises, shadowing Cain’s own grandiose speeches just an hour or two ago. A Princess, speaking of betrayal and promising aid, interested in a war even when her sister was still out there, missing. Politics and backstory. Lore and allegiances. Decisions and consequences.

He didn’t give a fuck about any of that.

In life, she was gigantic, but in death, she was too delicate. Each step broke him a little more, but still, Cain ascended, Ursa cradled in his arms. The weight of two countries was nothing compared to the weight of her remains.

The war could wait.

The muse had a friend to bury.

Ashes and snow danced out into a clear blue sky, the first taste of fresh air infinitely sweet.

 

Yay! Everyone was back together! It was so hard... so tiring... but.... but the rescue teams did it! They saved the prisoners, even if Magi was not in the group that did it, at least she helped right? That was enough to celebrate about... right? Why did so many people look so depressed then? Magi Heart was so relieved to be away from the killing and the slime. That she had forgotten something. This was not over. In fact it was about to become much, much worse. A war was about to happen. So even though they saved their friends... that they saved everyone... they were all just going to go right back into killing each other in a war? Was there no way to avoid this?

Magi Heart saw someone she remembered in the group she was yelling and looked terrible. No way... @Alphabet Chocolate ? She must have been one of the prisoners... Magi did not have the chance to go to her unfortunately. Did she die? Death was so terrible in this game... Magi remembered how she felt right after her death. It took a while to even get it off her mind enough to speak as she had become a mute for quite a while.

"Is this... even a game.. it doesn't feel like one anymore. It's like... like some cruel experiment. Sigh... some magical girl. I can't even keep my friends from falling into this grief."

Magi sighed and hoped Eldhi was okay. She did not see her in the group.... if she was dead... that would be even worse. Then as she thought alone. Wendy remembered the tablet she had read in the crystal land... That weird really quiet place had a tablet that read a really amazing tale. The star maiden that came from the sky and saved all kinds of lands and peoples. It was just like what she wanted to do! People lived in peace when she did it! If only Magi could learn more about her... but she had no idea where she could find the statue.

Maybe she should get out of this game and this war... but that statue could be her last hope. If the star maiden's spirit really resided in it and could give her inspiration and direction... maybe she could fix all of this! Maybe that was the point of this game... maybe... to find a really hard thing like that.

Magi Heart held this hope deep in her heart and held back her tears and grief. It was becoming time to do something, anything to figure out a solution. It was either that, or logging out forever and having the stress of how many people are still suffering with this to torment her.

She knew what she had to do...

 

Ashiore felt a small vindictive rush when the warden's body collapsed to the floor with an arrow sticking out of his face. For a brief moment nothing mattered. Not the fiery boars that continued to divide, not the ring-eyed guards who continued to advance, not anything else except the sheer satisfaction of seeing the warden's still-warm body hit the floor.

Of course, then things started exploding. Things began falling. Honestly speaking, Ashiore was barely even conscious after that entire encounter, so everything that happened in between that and when she next found herself fully aware of what was going on, was just a blur of motion and people.

The outburst of @Alphabet Chocolate made her jolt, and she looked at the distraught and angry young girl in concern. Right... Ashiore had to revive Alphabet during that skirmish with the guards in that corridor. The sight of her body sliding to the floor, blood flowing like rivers was... And then Alphabet's reaction when she couldn't revive Beretta, or when she tried to help Naixi-

The reminder that her faithful lion wasn't there anymore hit her like a punch to the gut. She couldn't do anything when Naixi fell except fall to her knees in disbelief. But there was someone who did try, did do something when Ashiore was too struck by her grief to even move.

Ashiore didn't have much to offer now. But she had to at least try. It was, literally, the very least she could do.

"A-ah, Alphabet," she started, hesitantly reaching out to put a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I just... I want to say thank you. For trying to bring-" It was difficult, then, to acknowledge what had happened, to make concrete what had transpired by speaking of it. Swallowing, she side-stepped the words, waited until she could have some time on her own, to take in that finality. "I didn't do anything--couldn't do anything, and you did. Thank you."

Asking if the girl was okay in this situation seemed trite. Everyone was very much not okay. Gathering up the last of her resolve, she gave Alphabet a quick one-armed hug and said, "If you need anything... I owe you. Really, anything."

And with that, she climbed into a cart with the others. She found a corner and huddled up tight, hugging her knees to her chest, no more Naixi to curl around her and keep her warm.

She never had a stuffed toy growing up. Never had any pets either. Maybe it was stupid, to be so upset about a virtual lion, something that wasn't even real. But that was fine. Of course powerless, cowardly fools would do stupid things.

 

The warden was dead, and the prisoners were free, it was over. They had managed to get out as he laid on the floor feeling the cool stone press against his back he weight that he had been carrying on his shoulder for this entire time, lifted for a few beautiful seconds. For those second the pain and humiliation of being captured and chained like a common beast were pushed to the back of his mind. For the first time in days, he didn’t have to worry about anything trying to kill him, as he laid back hearing a voice break through the silence. It seems that the excellent king Astor was off the people who have trapped down here sanctuary, even batter and bruised it seemed the king was a great man; there was little wonder why his lord followed his rule. He also lead the way out of the prison; he could see that the man had to be exhausted. He has taken a good beating in the fight, but he still moved forward. Rolling his head he looked at a charred spot on the floor, the place where Usra gave her life, she trades one or many it its simplest terms. Pulling out three arrows and jamming them head first into a crack but the charred spot, there was a possibility for a bit of a tear escaping him but then he pushes that back down.

However, there was still something he needed to do he had made a promise to himself earlier, making his way back towards the cell block to where he had been saved from the jackal. He had to get back to those animals he wasn’t going to leave them behind. The memory of Usra sacrifices playing in his head he was going to leave no one behind. Pulling open the bars and pleading with him to get them to follow promising to lead them to their master if they would just follow him outside. He didn’t know if it was the sincerity of his voice or his ability in the beast mastery class, but he was able to get them moving and back to the room where they had felled the warden. He almost dropped to the ground in exhaustion from the effort of getting them to follow him, but he only needed them to follow for a short time longer.

Pulling himself up the stair that was leading to the only way that they would be able to escape the prison. He was tired so exhausted it was days like this that this world felt more real than earth, it was hard for him to think that his body was somewhere else when he could feel the weight of his footsteps. Each step on the staircase felt like his feet were made of lead and he was dragging them through a swamp every step took more and more energy out of him as he made his way towards the light. The Jackal wound for his shoulder was on fire he could feel the bit of cloth he had just after the battle to try and bandaged it was wet almost soaked through. However, this pain was something that he could deal with it was just pain of physical nature. Pulling him out of the darkness and into the light the radiance of the sun it was a gift from the gods above that he had made it and with the companions trailing out behind him waiting for their owners. "Go..go find your owners they are here somewhere."

They …they were out it was finally over, for a few second a tear or two welled up in his eyes pooling before a few were able to fall down his face before he was able to wipe them away. Thankfully his hair blocked most people from seeing his expression at the moment, people not players but people of this world the ones they called NPC had died down there down there in the dark. Usra had given her everything to help us escape, and she paid with that with her life, how was that fair it should have been one of them. At least they could come back when they died she was gone for good. This was the first time he had failed so completely in anything on Terra. However, he would not bring shame to her sacrifice any more than he already had. A slight chuckle escaped him for a few second before he was able to clamp down on it he had managed to have pets but not her. The women who help him escaped from their cell in the first place.

His wounds caught up him in the moment of grief, the jackal bit all the fighting and even that final battle with the warden. He was barely alive at this point, and his energy was almost completely depleted. So he knelt there his longbow slung across his back and his quiver at his side, basing in the sun. He heard @Alphabet Chocolate anguish her declaration against everything hate was a strong word and one that a person did not use lightly. It seemed that the loss of Usra had hit everyone hard even in those moments when he bothered to turn his head to see around him. It was just a painting of pain that looked back at him. It was clear on those faces that they knew it should have been one of the players to take the bullet. Was this what it was like when is lord had found Dawngrave in flame and ruin. To know that each person you have come to know and loved has died and unlike us, they will stay dead. He was usually able to deal with things like this by just rationalizing the action, but this was not that. What type of man could just use people like that to imprison their own to cause the death of a friend and comrade.

He felt hands on his shoulder, there were strong it was a comfort least to look over and see an angel waiting to help. She carried him over to one of the carts and rests him down. It was like his mind shut down from exhaustion in that moment he wasn’t able to remember much after that.

 

Done. It was finally done and over with after all that time. She stared across the indoor battlefield of the chamber with both eyes locked on the fletching of the Precision Shot that made nestled into and through the skull of the prison's warden. The falcon feathers would be stiff to the touch if she could unroot her feet from the ground long enough to reach it. To reclaim it as her trophy. She didn't think she could stomach wrenching it from his head though. The irrational knowledge that he would get back up if she removed it nagged at her thoughts, like how sure children were of the monsters under their beds. She wasn't scared of him, but she was scared he could still hurt her little pack. Some of these people meant things to her now. It probably spoke poorly that she was lying to herself though, she knew she was. Her stomach heaved at the thought of what really shadowed her. Kyupin under nails or knives or hammers or-

No, they had defeated him and distantly she was aware that rescue had come. They had made it all that way and Astor opened the door to see what sounded like an ally and people were relieved. The huntress could hear it in their voices as they picked themselves up, as they gathered their things, and ultimately as they left. Time was still short. She should be moving. She should unglue her feet and move after them, but what if he got back up and they took her away again? She'd kill him. She'd kill them all. With arrows and nails, like the ones Astor didn't have, and with fists and with teeth, like the ones she hadn't cut on a soul during the fighting. For the better. Never knew where they'd been, but she was almost disappointed. She had killed him quick. She loathed herself for it.

She should have hunted down the ones that tortured, the hands that bent and twisted and burned and- and she should have made it slow. This wasn't who she was, but it was damn well who she could be. If it meant protecting them, she could be that.

She didn't want to be that.

Gwyn moved mindlessly and without a conscious thought toward Kyupin. The woman barely recognized the weight of the massive serpent sliding off of her to follow at her heels. Why would Nathair? Wasn't. Nathair didn't ride on her, ever, he was too heavy. This one was light and thin, but longer. New. She should name it. Why wasn't she thinking about names? She always- and then she was reaching out to knot her fingers in the linen of @Kyupin Felnya's dress and tried to stop the shake she knew was rattling through her hands. Gwyn- Sabine didn't do defeat. They didn't give up. She didn't fear things. She had stood atop cliffs that reached a thousand meters high with the toes of her boots over the edge and body lax against the wind. Fragile and helpless against a strong breeze that could claim her life in a fall. Never once had she felt the sick upset that made her chest hot and her stomach cold and turned her head feverish with anxiety chasing its tail in circles.

She looked down at Vulcan for a moment, just to meet his eyes and promise herself she hadn't failed two beasts today. The blonde felt awful that she was so thankful her own hadn't been here. It made her feel awful to feel anything good in the face of all the misery.

She slowly dragged her gaze upwards. She cataloged the damages, the wounds, the burns, mottled bruises left on her arm. Kyupin wasn't dead though. She wasn't that at least. Her blue eyes met those of the Felis and she was alive. She'd be okay. "I'm sorry." Gwyn tried to internally pinpoint what she was apologizing for. There was nothing she could have done differently and nothing that their efforts would have changed. "I'm sorry." She felt like she'd been shot and her hand ached where she gripped the other woman's dress. Her eyes were wet, but she wasn't crying yet. Keep it together. Naixi was dead. Ursa was dead. Beretta was gone- dead or logged she wasn't sure. They? They were fine. They'd be fine. Just some spells or potions, just a meal and rest. Just another therapist, maybe.

Right. They needed to leave. The others were going, going, gone, but not gone yet. She didn't care for them though. She followed @Ashiore Evretto with her clouded eyes and scanned over @Corvella and @Alphabet Chocolate. @Eleanor Loan was fine this time, no sacrifice needed except the one that took another life. A different life in a different way. Eleanor came back. She pitied the man she had seen fight alongside her and later revive her. Fail to revive her too. @Cain Darlite was it? She wondered if others would lose people too and dash themselves upon the rocks like with the look she saw in his eyes.

Familiar. Not. Getting there. It was only a matter of time, wasn't it?

The tamer smiled hollowly at Kyupin and managed a laugh that sounded unfortunately close to another sob. Seemed a fine way to end it as it started. "Let's go find Ashiore, yeah? She'll need the company. I'll- I'll message her and make sure we're welcome to sit with her in the wagon out. I don't think any- I just don't think any of us should be alone right now. Yeah? Yeah."

As soon as she got the confirmation of welcome, she'd drag the fragile form next to her and both their beasts, old and new, and cram into the cart. Gwyn didn't know what Ashiore was comfortable with, people came from all over and all had different views on personal bubbles, but she'd pressed in tight between the two if they let her. Drag Kyupin close and press the line of their sides and thighs together where she could still feel the shift of breathing or the pulse of life. She couldn't have anyone else lost. She'd keep everyone who mattered close and under her wing.

And if she finally broke down and cried a tear or two, though quiet without more than a hitch to her shuddered exhales, in the crowded cart? Well, it'd be easy to hide between them and catch her calm. Wrestle it back into shape. Fix the gung-ho, cavalier, thrill-seeking core of who she was, should be, is. She could afford to be weak for a second. They were strong enough to hold their own after all. Strength of the pack and all.

 

Kyupin wasn't used to being the strong one out of the two of them, but as @Gwyn ap Herne choked down a sob, the Felis found herself unable to shed any tears. Maybe it wasn't strength that kept her cheeks dry so much as just... exhaustion. She'd cried so much, maybe her body had run out of tears.

Despite being the smallest of the trio, Kyupin did her best to shelter @Ashiore Evretto and @Gwyn ap Herne from the rest of the busy cart. She laced her fingers through the huntresses own shaking ones and hummed a melody she couldn't quite remember. A lullaby, perhaps. And though she yearned to be with Vulcan, she was glad when the frail wolf picked up on the signals and leaned his head onto Ashiore's feet with nary a whine.

She counted each bump and dip in the road, squeezing Gwyn's hand tightly. Her eyes darted from adventurer to adventurer, taking in every detail she could.

Perhaps if she kept her mind busy enough, kept her eyes open long enough, the flashes of memories would stop. She would not see blood pooling, hear screams as nails are torn. She would not look between glowing, ringed eyes and cruel, gleaming grins, wondering why they were pinning her down and stop tha— Kyupin chewed on her lip as the memory cut short. Her eyes seeked out something else to focus on.

Kyupin knew she had no more tears to shed, but for all she'd dried out her eyes, it seemed her throat still wanted to scream. In sadness? Or in rage? She wasn't certain. The scream bubbled endlessly, boiling in her chest and begging to be let out.

She swallowed it down.

For now she would be strong. If not for herself, then to support the others who had been hurt. They did not need to see her suffering.

Only when everything was over, and over for good, would she sort through whatever horrible memories lingered in the corner of her mind. She would crawl into bed and open that Pandora's box and deal with it all then. But in this moment, she would bite her lips and squeeze Gwyn's hand, humming a song as broken as the spirits of everybody around her.

 

They have succeeded, everyone is free now. The reinforcement has come and they are going to escort us back to the city. It's like every story ever with the heroes triumph over all the hardships and rejoice at the end.

So why is nobody rejoicing right now?

Everybody has a blank stare in their eyes. Some mumbled and whispered something from their mouth and the others kept their thought for themselves. Everybody had suffered enough. Being tortured, imprisoned, and the worst; witnessing your friends dying. Thinking about all of thing that happened in such a short time sends a chill through Corvella's spine. She had to take a life at first, then when she hesitated, a friend's was taken. She still remembers how cheerful Ursa was on the start of the mission, when they were traversing the mountains.

Ursa.

She took something from her boots. It was still there, Ursa's spider-like automaton which was given to her just before all this happened. Tears would have fallen from her emerald eyes down her cheeks right now, but she couldn't cry. Why? She just want to let it all out and scream, but she just couldn't. No voice came out from her dry mouth.

The small automaton moves its legs and rotates on her hand. Corvella stored it back to where she grabbed it before. It will be her memory of Ursa.

The princess of Falderen herself came to help the prisoners, comforting each of them and escorting them to the carts. It reminds her of something horrible coming; the war. The fight is not over. someone out there is responsible for all this. For everything they have done, to Kyupin, to Ursa, and to everyone.

She will have her revenge.

 

The sight of @D'vangelline Falder's golden hair and composed presence filling the room left Astor with many conflicting feelings. For a second, he nearly gave in to the series of emotions that he had never felt before. It was a mix of great relief, accompanied by doubt and a seething rage that left his ruined hand trembling. For the first time in a long time, Astor felt powerlessness slowly covering every inch of his skin as the rescuer became the rescued.

As the princess held onto his frail frame and helped him up into the wagon, Astor could not take his eyes off the dark pit that led into the hell he had just escaped from. With his ego completely smashed and trampled, he felt as though he had left a part of himself back in that place.

When the wagon approached the gate, Astor lay down and curled himself up, shutting off all of his senses as D'vangelline negotiated with the guards.When the wagon continued on the bumpy road, Astor closed his hollowed eyes and enjoy his brief, albeit well-deserved rest.

In the world that had been drowned out by complete darkness, Astor woken to the truth that precises over all. When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground.