action | open, choose your own adventure

[multiclasser]

a. the garden

Tamhas hates this place, if he's honest. He tries not to - making the best of bad situations and all that - but it feels wrong. The Dark Tower is so like Yggdrasil that sometimes, in the corner of his eye - because the Tower is always in the corner of your eye, he's found - he forgets it isn't the tree, thinks for a heartbeat that maybe he can find a way back. Not quite home, but the closest he has. But then he looks and it's a damn Tower, dark where the tree was all radiant, glorious light. And the fractured plate above is stifling. The sun, Tamhas' guiding beacon, feels so very far away even on bright days. A little like Svartalfheimr, but he supposes there is something to appreciate about this place in that.

It could be worse. It could be Svartalfheimr.

And it's not all bad, he supposes. The garden is nice, even if near all the plants are strange. He's always liked work like this, anyway. Steady, menial. It's comforting, soothing, quelling the itch in his hands. Sian would be delighted at all the strange new growing things to look at, even if there's wrongness here she'd hate, a thought which always makes him miss his sister keenly - Tamhas doesn't know a lot about all the various types there are here, and he's a farmer, not a herbalist, but it's enough. He tries to make it enough, anyway.

So, when he's not fighting monsters somewhere, he frequently comes here. Waters, plants, prunes, harvests - anything that's needing done, anything folk might need a hand with. And he takes solace in it, finds some measure of peace here, which is why he looks fleeting surprised when he almost walks into someone. He's usually more alert than that.

"Ah, sorry -" a fleeting smile, turning slightly wry as he inclines his head in greeting. "- you'd think a man would have learned to pay better attention by now, wouldn't you?" There's a cluster of blue banora white apples in his arms; after a moment, eyebrows raising, he holds one out in offering.

b. a street

A lot is strange and different and weird here, but some things are just as Tamhas remembers. Fighting is one of them. Most things here take to his sword as well as most things did back there, which Tamhas is remarkably grateful for. It's always good to do something. So, when he tumbles down from the plate to a street and finds he has company, he's not terribly perturbed.

He doesn't know what he's fighting. They're like the skeletal, feathered kin of Valravn, but different - of course they bloody are - but they come at him shrieking with claws like sickles and Tamhas responds in kind, falling easily into a dance he knows well. It's strange, fighting alone, not feeling the strength of his friends round about him, not having to dodge the spells Morven slings or consider tossing opponents back for Kenna or making openings for Halldis - but then Tamhas realises he's not fighting alone.

Friend or foe? He can't spare the time to figure that out, fending off blows and delivering his own as furiously as he is, but he resolves to hope for the former and deal with the latter after if necessary. He can't even tell if it's someone in the fight, or someone trying to escape it. Either way, he moves solidly between this new party and the creatures, light flashing along the length of his blade as he brings it down, cutting down one and scattering the rest, just for long enough that he can swiftly glance over at the new arrival. In battle, his face is stern, lips curled in a snarl, though that fades in a moment of genuine concern as speaks.

"You alright?"

And then he's turning back to face the next line of attacks, sweeping out in an arc with his sword to meet them.

c. the forest

Sometimes, it's easier to be a bear than a man. That's proven generally true in the woods around World's End. His senses are better for it, for a start, and the prevailing cold doesn't touch him, and there are things that would attack a man on sight that don't so much as look up at a passing bear.

(Sometimes, Tamhas attacks instead. Not today.)

And he's better at hunting as a bear than he is as a man, which he might consider a point of embarrassment, but he reasons that there are things he can do better than a bear. Hopefully. At the moment, he's up to the forelegs in river water, catching fish. But watchful eyes may notice that this bear, huge and golden furred, is perusing his catch with great, and perhaps unusual, scrutiny. Just as Tamhas is not a botanist, he's not a fishmonger, either, and the fish are as weird here as the plants, so every time he catches one it takes careful deliberation to decide if it's worth eating - or taking to someone who better enjoys and knows cooking - or if it might even be dangerous. So many things are dangerous, here.

The range he's caught today are definitely fish. He can tell that much, though there's one that's borderline, as far as he's concerned. Dubiously, he noses them further along the bank, and turns back to the water.

Comments

a. The Garden

[chaiselounging]

The garden reminds him of home in a sense. Granted, he grew up in a desert city, but their own little walled home had a lovely garden inside of it that he often walked or sat in the shade to read, surrounded by nature but... safe nature. Not deserts or forests full of wild beasts.

Besides, Perdita likes it here, and he loves his piglet and right now she's one of the few sources of comfort that he has at the moment.

Chin up darling. Don't let the crown slip.

The phrase gets repeated a lot in his mind, especially when he thinks of home. Of his parents and his siblings. Do they miss him? Did they think he was finally abducted and are unable to find him? He has no answers, and the Tower always looms just to the edge of one pale green eye.

So he comes to the garden to try and feel a little more like himself and a little less homesick. He's so wrapped up in his thoughts that he certainly doesn't recognize when the man approaches-- a folly his brothers would be chiding him for (especially Hanot, but he's a Duskwight and prone to being paranoid by virtue of experience). He gasps just as they nearly collide, startled as he meets the strange man's eyes.

"Ah... no, I wasn't paying attention myself. I do apologize." He offers quietly, giving him a regal dip of his head.

[multiclasser]

"No harm, don't fret," Tamhas replies, looking over the stranger, eyes catching on the ears before he tells himself such a thing might be rude, and he'd hate to start making poor impressions here. Still, the points and the fine featured face and the height - not much more than his own, maybe but Tamhas is still very unused to meeting many taller than himself - put him in mind of Halldis -- is this man Alfar? Something like one, perhaps?

It's hard to tell, it's not like he knows much, and he's not about to start asking. It's simply another curiosity.

More to the point, there's something in his bearing that makes Tamhas feel he should be on his best behaviour. Unthinking, he draws himself up, the way his mother used to make him. "I hope I'm not intruding," he says gently. "Peaceful place, this, especially compared to..." He raises an eyebrow, glancing past the stranger to the city beyond. "Everywhere else."

[chaiselounging]

He was very tall for a Hyur-- or is it human? Midlanders were the shorter, highlanders tended to be taller, and Tamhas seems closer to the latter, but here it's just... all humans, no trace of the word hyur at all. That's what they seem to prefer being called at least, and the elezen can respect that. He gives him an approving look, lips curving into a soft sort of grin as he bends his head.

"You're not intruding at all. I have a feeling many people come here for a bit of comfort." He offers, bowing his head low politely as he smoothed his hands over the deep black and blue of his clothing. "We take what solace we can get around here, I can't fault anyone for that." He adds gently. "I'm Duibhín. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

[multiclasser]

Tamhas definitely has the impression that this man is either some kind of well-to-do, or comes from a culture where such formality is the norm. Which is odd, with the whole Alfar thing - but who is he to judge? A look of mild, fleeting surprise crosses his face at the name, though, which sounds so much like it could have come from home.

"The pleasure is mine," he offers, inclining his head respectfully. "You can call me Tamhas. And I think you're - exactly right," he continues, with a soft, wry chuckle lacing the words. "A bit of peace is a precious thing. I like the work myself, even if I don't ken... well, most of what's growing here."

[chaiselounging]

"Tamhas." He echoes warmly, pleased by the name and the kindly face to place to it. A good hyur-- Tamhas has kindly eyes, he thinks. More friends in a cold place like this are worth their weight in gil.

"I... like what I can make with plants. I like gathering them, drying them... but I'm rubbish at gardening itself." He wrinkles his nose playfully, giving a little wiggle of his fingers. He's not much for getting his hands dirty, but he can handle it when necessary.

"Between you and me, I don't get what a lot of them are myself but.. some of them seem close enough to what I'm used to. Time will tell?" He asks with a grin.

b. Street

[freckledhuckster]

Shadows roil around him and fire crackles. Even if his Demon is far from him, the gifts he's given are still within reach and Seamus calls on them without an ounce of shame. There is no taboo of magic here-- Soft already admitted to him that she heals through magic, just like Brambles (and maybe he could learn too?), and thus, with a mule and a rat to protect, he fights like the scrapper he is. He has no idea who this man is, or how he has a Sword of all things, but that's far from the weirdest thing that he's seen since arriving.

And right now they're on the same side fighting against the damned varmints. Seamus hates these varmints. They're worse than canyon creepers or just normal skeletons-- at least you can normally knock those over-- then again, at least these don't have guns, so he's thankful for that.

"I'm fine. Look out!" He calls to the blond man as most of them scatter, but turn as a group to try and surge back with murder in their gaze. Shadows woven with fire slam into the nearest creature and split off to hit two more. He's a blur of movement, hard to spot, shimmering and elusive as he tries to peel the attention away from a few, making full use of his devil-given talents.

[multiclasser]

The shifting shadows are not the most reassuring of sights. They remind him faintly of Hezera, and in the scant moments he spends studying this new companion he notices the way he seems to blur, practically flicker, which only makes the reminder stronger. That is not necessarily reassuring, either. But they're fighting the same foe and Tamhas isn't about to dismiss aid.

"On it!" He shoots back, grunting in exertion as he catches on with the flat of his blade and arcs it away, hurling it up and into a nearby wall before moving to hack through the next. Whatever these things are, they're not much on their own - they just seem to swarm.

Greatswords are handy for such things, though. Tamhas slices forwards again, and when he doesn't manage to take some down he at least gives himself a moment to ground himself. All the while, he keeps himself between his compansion and their foes. Unnecessary, maybe, given how he moves, but habit is habit. Crackling magic presents further opportunity to dart in with his blade; steadily, together, beginning to thin their numbers.

[freckledhuckster]

The fire and shadows distract them enough for the sword to slice through like a heated knife through butter. Seamus resolves himself to keep away from the large blade, noting all the while how Tamhas swings it and moves, committing it to memory as much as he can. He'd rather keep on this man's good side, because no matter how fast he is, there's a lot to be said about tenacity and strength.

Magic flows through him, crackling in a way that feels so good to the man. Without Golden Eyes in the dark, he feels unfettered, freer somehow, and perhaps that's disloyal of him but it's so good to let loose and he darts about like a jack rabbit, herding and confusing the creatures to make it easier for his companion to cut them down.

Soon the very air is filled with the stench of burnt creatures, the smoke of shadows and he lets himself come to a stop, dropping the dizzying effects to look up at the man he's snap-judged as an ally, giving a small grin.

[multiclasser]

It's good to fight alongside someone, especially someone whose style compliments his own so well. They make short work of the monsters, and in the aftermath Tamhas takes a moment to breathe, to center himself, the dull drumming of his rage ebbing as, once he's had a look and a sniff around for any others and is confident there are none, he takes a cloth from his belt and wipes brackish blood from the length of his sword.

Now, rolling his shoulders and easing, he looks over to the newcomer and gives a nod. Curt, but respectful, a small smile curving the corner of his mouth.

"Well, I reckon we work well together."

[freckledhuckster]

The deck of cards slips back into the pocket of his trousers as he bounces back on his heels. He also looks around one last time, shaking his head as if to dispel the shimmer from his own vision, and if Tamhas is watching, the shadows will ease away as if they'd never been there at all. He wipes his hands as if he's somehow gotten them dirty, muttering a few words under his breath to freshen himself up once more.

"We do! Ain't never met someone who fights like you do." He offers cheerfully as he peers up at the taller man. He approaches a bit like a cat, a lazy saunter that's equal parts fearless and equal parts ready to leap away if that sword were pointed towards him.

A pale, freckled hand slipped out in greeting, offered out to Tamhas as he tipped his hat to him with a bright, vulpine grin.

"Name's Shimmer... or Seamus. Either way." His head cocked to the side, peering at the sword. "Never seen a real sword. Not like that.. wow..." Now that he had a chance though, he could actually look at that man and his manner of dress and paint and it was so different that he stared in disbelief, dragging his eyes over him with a delighted grin. So different from his own clothing, which was admittedly looser than what he might wear back home, but adventuring had tilted that a little. His shirt wasn't quite painted on, and his trousers had just a touch more give to allow for riding and fighting, but not by much.

This man though...

"Long as you keep that pointy thing pointed that way, towards the varmints, we'll get along fine." He teases.

[fluctuationfeels]

He had been thinking about her again. Replaying that last conversation and trying to find the places to change it. What could he have said to make her understand?

As he felt himself walk right into another person he was jolted out of his thoughts. He let out a winded sound and took a step back to look up at the tall stranger.

The man’s appearance alone stopped Leo from snapping “watch where you’re going.” He didn't like to be rude, but there was a defensive part of him was easily startled and still trying to prove to angry New Yorkers that he was tough.

But, face to face chest with a stranger who looked like they had just stepped out of one of his favorite books, he couldn't help but stare, blinking a few times. Even though he had been here for what felt like a while now, knightly and mysterious looking people always left him awestruck.

“Um...” he started, listening to the man apologise then watching as he extended his hand and offered him what seemed to be some kind of apple.

Leo was hungry, he was always hungry, but his personal rule was to be cautious around food and strangers. He’d been tricked before, not to mention all of the stories about poisoned apples that were deeply ingrained in his culture. These apples especially, looked odd, like most things around Worlds End. Hell, maybe they were just exactly what forbidden fruit looked like. Not that he believed in Adam and Eve. Snow White was more likely to be real in a place like this.

“Sorry. Can’t take food from strangers,” he said, almost apologetically.

[multiclasser]

Tamhas' eyebrows rose, then his expression eased into one of understanding and he gave a wry little smile, nodding again as he set the apple back amidst the rest. "Wise. Sorry, should have thought." His first thought had been I'm hardly Sidhe-looking, but that counted for little, especially here.

He held up his now empty hand, almost as though he meant to reach out and steady the man himself - though he didn't reach, didn't touch. "I hope I didn't hurt you? Should know better, honestly -" again, his eyebrows lifted "- and now I'm probably in your way. Sorry," he repeated, ruefulness creasing his little smile, as he stepped back to let the other pass if he so chose.

[fluctuationfeels]

Leo watched the apple go away with a longing which he hoped didn’t register in his eyes. There might have been a sound too, a sort of growl as a tight pinching pain in his stomach protested audibly to the retraction of the hand. A hand that might have fed him, if he had been more trusting. He bit his lower lip, turning his eyes down for a moment, but when the stranger spoke and didn’t comment on his embarrassing stomach growl, he figured he mustn’t have heard it.

He looked back up to observe the man again. He seemed to have a gentle way about him that Leo liked. His body language came across as non threatening, and for a man, that seemed totally alien. Leo wasn’t used to men having manners, or giving him space like that. It stunned him further that this dude also chose to bear the entirety of the fault for the collision. Being accountable and apologising was utterly foreign behaviour as well. Maybe not from everyone, since Aydin apologised several times per sentence, but from a stranger it seemed so baffling.

If the man was admitting fault then at least Leo could feel safe from being reprimanded. That made him relax a little. He had gotten away with daydreaming and embarrassing tummy rumbles thus far.

When asked if he was hurt he chose not to answer, instead responding to the latter suggestion that the stranger was in his way.

“You're not in my way,” he assured.

He wanted to say something more that that, maybe even start a conversation, but it was hard. He knew it was rude to stare, but it felt like stare was all he could do. The man's clothing, his fur and his war paint they were all so interesting, and he was already stifling a million questions.

[multiclasser]

There was a time, not so long ago, where Tamhas would have assumed himself an imposition, an issue, would have swiftly made an exit, stumbling over apologies as he went, no doubt. But now, he lingered, eyebrows raising a hair as he looked at the other. He wasn't certain why - maybe it was just fool's hope - but he had a sneaking suspicion that, at the very least, he was not an imposition. That perhaps, the other wanted to speak? Perhaps it was his own experience lending him insight, knowing how it felt to feel on a sideline. Or perhaps it was just hopeless projection.

Tamhas decided to take a chance, regardless. At any rate, he did catch the rumbling stomach, and his expression knit slightly in sympathy. Taking up the apple he'd previously offered out, he took a bite himself, in an attempt to demonstrate that they were perfectly safe.

"You sure you don't want one?" He nudged the armful a little closer. "They're good. I've never seen any this colour, but honestly, they're better than the ones I'm used to.

[fluctuationfeels]

Leo chews on his bottom lip as he watches Tamhas take a bite of the apple and assesses the risk. He doesn't want to appear too cautious, nor does he want his stomach to make any more angry noises and embarrass him in front of the stranger.

“Can I... have that one?” He asks, nodding toward the very one the man has already taken a bite out of. “I know, it’s weird, but...”

He trails off because he doesn’t really want to explain exactly why he is so suspicious. It’s a nice gesture that the man is even willing to take a bite first and Leo appreciates it more than he can express.

“Yeah. I’ve never seen blue fruit either. Go figure, it must be weird in more places than one.”

He stands awkwardly, still trying not to stare.

[dogtective]

“Hey!” An excited little voice unexpectedly pipes up inside the bears head. The source of said voice is a very small, very scruffy looking Pomeranian who is running toward him excitedly along the river bank, accompanied by some rather insistent barking. Usually, Missile can’t speak to humans this way unless they have previously died, but right now, this human is an animal and animals can communicate!

“Are you really going to go back into the giant bath?!” He asks as he scampers over, running like a table someone is trying to puppeteer through the mud.

[multiclasser]

Tamhas has never been spoken to, as a bear. Not really. Oh, people have shouted things from time to time, but usually, he's either been in battle, or he's been alone. So, when the voice cracks the quiet, he lifts his head, surprised - and then he goes through the strange process of realising that it's just in his head. It's not the first time that's happened, but it's still weird, and he looks around for the source, mystified, almost completely missing the tiny creature hurtling towards him.

Finally, his eyes fall upon it. Them. Him? The bear makes a soft noise, before Tamhas remembers that he can't actually speak right now and the voice is in his head.

"Can you hear this?" He thinks, because telepathy is new to him and he's not entirely sure how it works. He studies the little beast curiously. A dog, he thinks, though he's never seen one like it before and is going mostly by smell. Adorable, though, but he keeps that to himself. Doesn't want to offend.

"I have to, wee one. Hoping to take some fish back for folk, and that means catching a few."

[dogtective]

“I can hear you!” The little dog says happily, speaking inside the man’s head as if it is the most natural thing in the world besides barking. He lets out a few more loud yaps as he comes to a stop in front of the bear's face and bounces from paw to paw in excitement. The fish that Tamhas previously set down on the bank wobble a little beside him as the little dog's tail fans and whips the nearby grass into a frenzy.

“I’m Missile! I’m a Pomeranian! What are you?! I’ve never seen anything as big as you before! Are you a dog?”

He smells like an animal, but also like a man. Then there is the smell of the fish too, those are strong. In fact there are So many smells! No wonder he is confused.

[multiclasser]

Oh, Tamhas is utterly charmed by the wee beast. He just knows that if he was a human right now, he'd be scooping him up and ruffling his fur. So maybe it's best he's a bear right now, because maybe that would be some kind of mortal insult? As it is, he ambles closer to nose at him curiously.

"I'm a man. I mean - usually. Right now I'm a bear." In all the times he's been a bear, he's never communicated with another creature like this, which makes him wonder; is this something he's been missing out on? He'll have to try, some time. But then, maybe the dog can just talk to folk? It wouldn't be the strangest thing he's seen...

"Is... a pomeranian a dog?" He asks, head tilting. "I've never seen one like you before, Missile - oh!" If a bear can look contrite, then Tamhas is surely so right now. "Sorry. My name's Tamhas."

c. the forest

[thewhitepawn]

New and lost. With Shalamayne in hand, he walks, lost and confused. The place has the look of where he's just left, in a sense-- it has the same feeling as the Broken Shore, but it is notably different.

So he walks, clutching his inherited sword, feeling adrift and unfulfilled. The portal he had just taken to get home led to here, and it feels like a flaw in magic, but this is not any place on Azeroth that he knows. The Tower is always in the corner of his eye and it feels... wrong to him, while calling to him at the same time.

Anduin walks through the forest instead, forlorn and alone until he comes upon the river. He stops when he spies the bear however, drawing himself up but keeping his weapon to the side. He'd gotten far closer than he intended to in that instant and glances at the pile of fish and begins to back away.

"Easy there..." he says softly. "I mean no harm." He hopes he hasn't offended the beast just doing what bears do. He'd rather not fight anything today.

[multiclasser]

Tamhas is already looking in his direction, attention drawn by the scent of a person and then sound and sight falling in after. He eyes him curiously - still, but ready to move. Some would try their luck hunting, he knows, though he'd prefer it didn't come to that. And it seems the other feels the same way. Deeming his words to be earnest, Tamhas makes a soft, rumbling kind of noise, and nudges at a fish as though to edge it closer to the other. A peace offering, or at least an attempt to show that he, too, means no harm.

But with the young man closer now, Tamhas studies him. Studies the blade in his hand, yes, because Tamhas loves a good sword and that is a good sword, but he lifts his head to look at his face.

Maybe it's because he can empathise that he recognises the signs of confusion, of uncertainty, of grief, that he recognises the signs of feeling all those things and walking on regardless. For a few moments, Tamhas is uncertain. It almost feels encroaching, to see someone like this. Tamhas almost feels like he should keep his head down and go back to fishing and this young man can keep his dignity and Tamhas won't have to try to navigate whatever it is that's happened.

But, no sooner does the thought occur to him than he dismisses it. The confusion, the uncertainty, the grief, and the walking on regardless - they tug at the part of him that knows all those things so intimately well.

The bear shifts. Leans back on its hind legs, lowers its great, shaggy head. The fur moves, like it's a separate layer, sloughing off a form. And then there isn't a bear there, but a man, kneeling in the soft dirt by the river, his knuckles white, a look of sharp pain passing across his face - and then passing. He shudders, blinking at the world around him, needing a moment to collect himself again, to gather all the shreds of his own mind from where they scattered. And, after a moment, Tamhas gets to his feet, flexing his hands and rolling his shoulders.

"You look a wee bit lost, friend," he offers, and the look on his face is gentle, and understanding.

[thewhitepawn]

He's no stranger to bears. Elwyn forest is full of them and he's seen plenty of druids in his day. Bears mean strength and tenacity. They're protective spirits and while they may wish to be left alone, they're good. Important. Like wolves... and lions.

His face starts to crumble in the memory of what's just happened, what he's seen, and he feels his resolve slipping. I can't do this, I can't do this-- but he notices a fish being nudged towards him. It stops everything in its tracks as he looks at it, and then at the creature before him. A creature that adopts a pose that he's seen with druids before as fur peels back to flesh and beast becomes man.

...An actual man. Is he a worgen? One of the harvest druids or a hedgewitch of some sort? He's built more like a warrior or paladin from what he can see, but Anduin can tell immediately that there's genuine concern in those eyes. Kindness.

He's reminded of Velen in an instant and again warmth floods his eyes as he takes a deep breath.

"I... think that I am. Yes..." he looks around, the Tower in the corner of his eye at all times and shakes his head. "I am very... very lost, my friend." Tall and broad, but he's young, his voice soft and gentle.

[multiclasser]

While another little shudder winds through him as he adjusts, Tamhas is steady, trying not to look too sympathetic. He'd hate for the other to think he was being pitied, or worse, looked down on for what is clearly a great deal of emotion, pent up. Tamhas knows the look. He's seen it in his reflection a lot. The man is younger than him, and yet Tamhas is hesitant to consider him a boy, recognising a weight of more both sitting on his shoulders and lurking in his face. Strong, Tamhas thinks. And weary.

"Call me Tamhas," his smile is wan, his nod sincere. "Are you... lost as in, the forest is strange, or lost as in, the whole place is strange? Either way, I can lead the way back to the city - well. Once I string up this lot," he says, casting a dubious eye over the fish.

b - street

[holyspam]

Soft had been out gathering herbs. Though she had spotted some she recognized from home, it was something from out of her world she had spied. One of the few good things about visiting the First had been seeing otherworldly plantlife. Though she and Dornni had hit the road as an adventuring duo, scouring intel for the Scions and her guiding star, she had been able to collect samples there. It had been pleasant - almost like a memory of her time before she had heard Hydaelyn's call.

There had been fighting, too, of course - sometimes, there had been fighting as they crossed the lands. In that way, this was much the same: one moment she was walking with her basket of whispering herbs, and the next she was beset by skeletal, betaloned birds of monstrous size. She had dropped her basket and whisked Blade's Mercy from its sling. The crystalline butterflies had flitted about the equally glimmering petals, suffused with the Light Aether than the First had filled her with.

Soft raised a hand and cast dia on the first one she saw. The threads of light aether wound around it to hurt it over and over. Not a moment after she lowered her hand, she had spun around, floating slightly from the ground, and began to channel Holy.

It was then that she saw she wasn't the only fighter. In the heat of the attack, she had missed the large man with his golden pelt. He swung a weapon near as big as one of Dornni's axes, and he commanded the field in a way that was instantly recognizable to her, even if his form was different.

Soft let the spell complete. The large orb of Light aether rose into the air. As it did so, she extended her hand again, wrapping the newcomer in threads of aether as well - though this time, it was to heal over time, rather than to hurt.

"Managing!" she called in response. Holy detonated, and the birds around them were stunned in the after effects of the spell. She nodded to him. "Keep fighting! I'll patch your wounds."

b. a street

[oreooreo]

He would rather have answered without speaking, perhaps using a curt nod or signal. Speaking often feels uncomfortable to Yorolaie, but he knows in this situation speaking is imperative. It is always possible amidst the flurry of a fight that a physical sign will be missed. As such when he makes his answer he is sure to get close to Tamhas’s ear, almost back to back with him. There is no option for his answer to be masked behind the song of steel and sword, unless the man is deaf.

“Yes,” he replies, then moves again, dispatching more enemies. Hand to hand, because he is conserving his ammunition. He attacks with robotic and surgical precision executed with the grace of an ice dancer. Agile, fast and never making an unnecessary blow, his calculated moves fell the creatures as if a shadow had set upon them and torn them from their course of action.

Before approaching, Yorolaie had observed the young man who battled these aggressors for almost two minutes. In that time he had concluded that Tamhas was clearly a skilled warrior, with a style that seemed a marriage of knowledge and experience both in and outside the field of battle, and a natural instinct and passion that roared through him.

Yorolaie had entered the situation well aware that Tamhas wasn’t in any need of assistance. Yet something compelled him to get involved anyway. Perhaps it was the unsettling notion of observing such a situation from a distance when he had the option to assist. Leaving it entirely alone and trusting in a favorable outcome was a possibility, but it felt... Rude. Logically, it would be presumptuous not to leave room for unexpected complications. Some people were unlucky, after all, and so he had entered the skirmish in order to at the very least, be neighborly and cover all bases.