Chapter and rapture | ...Somewhere outside of New Haven...

T'was dawn, outside the cultural epitaph that is the City of New Haven. The sky illuminated by twin suns that burn of white hot flames, rising up and over the vast Jungles of Marnai. These twins of the sky side by side, suspend among the vast clear sky tinged with blue, streaks of faint mauve wave their way through the horizon. Beating their iridescent rays of light the suns penetrate through the mist that hangs over the humid Jungle with dazzling specular beams reflecting through the mists, producing momentary rainbow-rays throughout the westerly land of Targon.

The citizens of the land and city rise early to start the day, if only to view this spectacular event each morning; bathing in those hopeful majestic rays. Each of the citizens were used to this event now. Though it was not always so, Years before the Rift the sky was entirely different. Gossip and belief throughout history is said that the rift had moved the world and released the might of Targon's Deities, blessing them with Twin suns of white, tinging the sky with that iridescent colour. Giving hope and glory to the people in these perhaps dark and confusing times of regeneration. The farmers, freighters and fisherman work their way through the greenery and bush land, from the Cities markets, to begin their daily harvest and catch of goods for the economy of this cultural Mecca. The fishermen heaving large nets from their small makeshift boats, yards out from the shores of the Bachure Sea. With the suns rising over the waters, the twins' white hot rays reflect up and cast shadowy webs through the fishing nets that simmer over the warm waters. The webs of shadow shield the eyes of the rough and weathered fisherman as their carry out their daily business.
Looking onward, past the chores of the day, sits a pale man who nestles himself within the pebbled and sandy Bachure shores. The hair of this observing being ruffles further as his gloved hands run through his black locks; a face solemn and blank, blank as a canvas in colour and expression as those orb-like blue eyes peer up and out toward the working men at sea. He smiles politely as another worker walks past him with a crunching of his boots to the shore, in return the rugged handsome fisherman nods with a wink, stopping to turn in his destination to the moored makeshift boat.

"Ye been 'ere all night by they looks o' it lad." He said with a cheeky jest of his deep and rocky voice.
"Indeed, I should sleep really, but why would I want to do that when I can view you all at work in all your mature glory?" The pale truan grinning man says quietly, a hint of suggestion as he speaks.
This seems to cause curiosity in the rugged fisherman, his hand lifting to caress a stubbled cheek. "Why don' ye chip in wi' the work? Could ge ye some coin together, ye look like ye need a meal, or a bed for de nigh". "Are you offering?" the still grinning man replied. "Oh, I, I.. I just think ye need.." The curiosity of this truan fisherman fades, now replaced with a stuttering confusion. "I'm curiio" Said the pale man, now hugging his knees to his chest as he sits upon the shore, large blue eyes peering up to the baffled being. "I've got te go Curiio, I'll see ye another time if your still sleepin' on de shores. Get some shut eye lad." He said with a soft pout, his eyes torn from handsome curiio to the work ahead of him. Before Curiio could speak another lifeless jest, the fisherman clambered into his boat and pushed from the shores.

Curiio pushed up from the pebbled sand, sighing softly as he looked on one more time to the enticing fisherman. Tearing his view from the scene and walking back up to the bushlands, heading toward New Haven. The suns rapidly rising now, the sky in full glory. However Curiio winces completely at the dazzling displays in the vast sky, his pale face only reflecting the wonders as he meanders on through the greenery.

An hour later Curiio, now sated and belly full he wandered out of the Tavern, covering his mouth with a black gloved hand, burping gently into it. He was streets away from the Market, where he so often helped out his mother in selling her unique pottery. Curiio's compelling desire to spy her working was disturbed as a rather obscure and hulking creature barges past the Truan's form- slamming the tavern door behind him. This Creature arrogantly pushed through the mingling crowds of culture and out of sight. An irritated Curiio broadly shrugs off this feeling from the creature and glances around with his large blue eyes, noting many of the citizens that pass by, performing their daily mundane chores. Two Truan women, one blonde with a large perhaps pregnant stomach is cackling to the other, a brunette slim and short- twig-like woman who is apparently joking.

"And 'e told me, "nah that's just me wife!" I couldn't believe it! A bloody Kazur'ha!" The twiggy jester cackled. "Oh my did you 'ear about..-" The blonde woman said before rubbing her stomach profusely, a wince of her watering humored eyes. "What is it, is it time love?" "Aye dunno' it's far too early" She replied, her face twisting in pain, any etching of jokes and giggles now fading as the blonde woman cups her hands over the large bump at her stomach.

Curiio, all the while watching this display, walks over to the women with a concerned frown. "Here allow me to take a look at you alright? Trust me, I'm a healer. My name is Atlyo" He lied. The Women turn to him and perhaps in their dire situation, accept the strangers help, leading them back into the tavern. "Ladies first..." He smirks, the two women attempting to smile as the pregnant blonde then squeals. "Oh shudap bernice it's probly just a kick or 'sumit". "I'll find out for sure for you... Bernice was it?" Curiio said, closing the door behind them quietly....

The rays of the twin suns pierced through the morning fog, the light creeping beneath the rocky overhang on the outskirts of the city of New Haven. Shard was the to stir, nuzzling his way from Kal’s arms and making his way into the bright sunlight. He blinked twice, his small eyes adjusting to the intensity of the morning suns. Stretching his wings his let out a tiny squeak before finding something of interest. A small beetle was basking on a nearby stone. Shard crouched, wiggling his hindquarters, preparing to spring.

Kal had, in fact, awoken much earlier and was simply enjoying the slow morning. Her eyes watched the small kazur’ha as he stalked the small beetle. She couldn’t help but smile at Shard. For a moment she contemplated snatching Shard from his hunt, but on second thought, she figured that he needed the hunting practice. Besides, she was travelling into town for a few days, and she would not be able to let Shard roam free.

With a little rawr, Shard pounced on his quarry, trapping it beneath the claws on his elbow joints. When he lifted his paw, his ears drooped finding out that he had crushed the beetle. Kal chuckled at the spectacle, startling her small companion. Kal pulled herself up into a sitting position before reaching to scoop Shard up in one hand. Shard squirmed a bit to be put down but Kal was undaunted. She pulled the small animal close to her and gave him a peck on the head.

Putting Shard down (who immediately scurried back to the squished beetle) Kal began to pack up her things. Shard had begun to eat the beetle from the sandy “plate” when Kal scattered the ashes from her campfire. “Oh don’t eat that!” Kal wrinkled her nose as Shard devoured the beetle. She buckled her weapons on her person before throwing pure white robe, making sure to cover herself completely. She pulled up the low hood and threw her satchel over her shoulder. Snatching Shard from his grotesque meal and tucking him in her satchel, she was off towards New Haven.

Kal had camped a few miles outside of New Haven in the scrub land, thus it was nearly midmorning when she arrived in the outskirts. The guards at the outer boarder placed their hands on their weapons as Kal approached. “State your name and your business in New Haven.” Kal sighed, security was always so tight, and she hated the questioning before entering any city. “I am Rift-Slayer, my business is that of trade for supplies.”

The guards looked at each other sceptically, “We ain’t never heard of ya, and wit a name like’at I dunno if’n we gonna trust ya,” their grips tightened on their weapons.

“Then go ask your commander, Master Jarvas Westier. He will tell you.” Kal’s patience was wearing thin. It was always wearing thin these days. The guards must have been in a lazy mood, for they sneered, but simply gestured for Kal to pass through. She nodded her thanks, dropped her head, and walked into the area of the city.

The market was crowded this morning, and Kal had to shove her way through the throngs of people. A small squadron of Xarys muscled their way through, clearing a path in their wake. Kal noticed a pale man with a very pregnant women. “What a lovely couple,” Kal mused, though it had become so much more difficult for her to smile these days. It was too crowded for her to hear any particular conversation, but when the woman clutched her stomach, Kal frowned slightly. But she was in no mood to help, thus she simply let the couple retreat into the tavern and moved towards the bazaar.

Stopping at several stands, she gathered the merchandise she needed, packing them into her satchel. As she placed several healing potions into the satchel, Shard squealed, causing Kal to flinch. “Sorry,” she whispered to the satchel, which issued odd looks from other people. Having collected what she needed, Kal retreated into the tavern. She seated herself at a far table and ordered a flagon of ale and a small glass of milk. The barmaid took Kal’s coin and brought her the drinks, watching curiously as Kal dropped the glass of milk into her satchel. “Lass you can’t take that glass with you,” the barmaid scowled.

“I know…be gone.” Kal waved her hand dismissively. The barmaid left Kal to herself and her drinks.

...Babies & Burdens... | New Haven Tavern

"Bernice!" Yelled the brunette, her twig-like fingers ushering the moaning blonde through the tavern. "Stop blooding yelling! People are staring at us!" She added, far more quiet than her first command, the womans brown eyes peering around at the gawking patrons. The pregnant blonde snapped her, all the while clutching her stomach as she panted profusely " I'm having a bloody baby, Marge, our baby! Or did you forget that?! I'm allowed to bloody moan if I want, ALRIGHT?!". The pale and perhaps humored Curiio laughed, still urging the women to the stained and rotten staircase which towered up adjacent to the entrance. Each of its steps creaked and split, nails popping out of the boards as each of the three hastily walked upwards. The Barmaid, who seemed intent of having noone in her business today, yelled. "She ain't 'avin' no grubby little brat on my watch!" Though this was completely ignored by the passing group. Upon arriving up the staircase a long narrow hall lined each of the people tightly, pregnant Bernice at the forefront, with her mother to be close at the rear. And Curiio, poor curiio at the very back, wincing at the bickering lovers.

"Alright, this one-" He spoke softly, gesturing to the bedroom door, tightly narrowed between two others. Claustrophobic and dank, with that unsavoury smell of damp and... And something else. Each of the three cramed themselfs into this small tavern rest area, Bernice without hesitation, laying upon the single matress that is held up by a wrickety four post camp bed. The dusty old bed sank with a loud creak at the sheer weight of the woman in labour. Marge towered over the writhing woman, running her hands helplessly through her lovers blonde, dampening sweated locks. "Now, Bernice... I want you to breath alright, it's alright... Early but alright. Bubba doesn't need you stressed alright? Be brave and breath for me" Said the pale Truan, crouching to hes knees at the foor of the narrow bed. He tugged up his sleeves and removed his gloves and rings, setting them to the floor. His tone was calm and collected as he examined the woman in labour, to his surprise, blood was present on the womans skirt, staining the reality of a once joyful moment. The pale Truans face betrayed no sign of worry, as those blue orbs peer up to the two and wink."Just keep Bernice company, reassure her, alright Marge?" He added quickly.

Beneath the Taverns Rest Rooms, many patrons had paused their drinks, listening to the clamity above, looking more disgruntled and irritated by the common. That touchy barmaid clammering glasses and pots, keeping busy to distract the patrons from the wailing women above.

"Argh!-oh-oh Alright.. ARGH!" Bernice pushed and pushed. "Thats good, very good love" Marge added, worried for her love. "Yes, -very- good, just keep doing that dear" Said Curiio, his hands working at the foot of the bed. "I can see a head!" He beams up, with a grin to the women" A head, remarkable he thought, new life to the world, but how joyous is it to bring one into -this- world? "Alright, One more.. Push!" He said quietly, the writhing woman did so and pushed. A small baby Truan was now in Curiio's bare pale arms, cradling the baby girl. Alas, this baby girl was not crying, infact- she wasn't moving at all. She look asleep with her adorable hair soaked wet to her small little head. Tiny fists cuddled herself as she lay dormant in the mans arms. "I, I have to check her over... I promise I'll be back. Just relax, I promise.." He said, now betraying a hint of worry in his otherwise calm tone. "I want to see my baby! Where are you taking my baby?! - "Give us our baby, whats wrong?! Tell us!" The woman protested. Curiio merely looked at them glancing from the worrying women to the still born in his arms. "She needs to be cleaned up" He lied with a gentle smile of comfort. The women looked at each other and grinned "You hear that? She! It's a girl Bern'!" Curiio left the two woman in their ignorance, taking the child next door, alas a man was asleep in this grubby room. He halted immediately, the seemingly sleeping tiny truan curled in his arms. "Out." He said simply, the man who was perhaps half awake, immediately vacated past the Truan's and out of sight down that narrow hall.

"Alright little one. C'mon, it's alright." He comforted the lifeless baby. laying it to the bed where the dozey man just left. His bare hands laid over the tiny Truan, muttering to himself, mere words of comfort. In this concentration, his left hand leaves the lifeless new born, the other still on the childs chest. Delving into his pockets he reveals a small vial of golden liquid, biting off the cork and pouring just a drop onto the childs thin chapped lips. The pale Truans blue orbs watch over the child for any sign, alas nothing happens. He gulps, and raises both his hands now, trailing them in mid air over the child, that golden potion trickling away from the tiny thin lips.

"This isn't meant to be..." He said simply; placing his hands flat down on the bare tiny Truan, The poor child still did not move.

Curiio bit his bottom lip and those large blue orbs to turn a breaking red, the very whites of his eyes threatening tears that now stream from his eyes. Those hands, those pale hands lifted from the dead child, wiping away his tears. He blinks numerous times, trying to focuse with tears flooding his vision. Curiio laid his damp tear stained hands to the childs lifeless cheeks. Rubbing over them softly, mixing the potion with tears, trailing a delicate thumb over the child.


....After what seemed like a lifetime of tragedy, the tiny Truan awoke. A rosey hue appearing in her cheeks, she seemed to gasp, letting out a small cry as the golden tears dripped into her mouth, more and more colour returning to the small form. Curiio lifted his hands away and smiled as the still born became a newborn... As it should of been.

Curiio left the child with her parents.. After many thanks you's and praise the pale modest being nodded to them and smiled. He turned on his heels and walked away from the room, down the narrow hall and down the creaking staircase. Looking completely drained, his eyes sunken but now a vague white instead of red. He glances around as he walks down the stairs, stooping under as he settled on the new groundfloor. The slouching Truan walks toward the barmaid and lays down numerous coins to the bar.

"For their keep." He sighed.

The drained Truan looks now toward the seated slender Lukkan. His blue eyes narrow over her peculiar motions to her sachel. This provokes many questions from Curiio, yet he speaks little, merely looking to the barmaid with a quirked fine brow. She meets his glance and scowls. "Don't even ask.." She muttered, adding with a more conversational tone she says "How'd it go up there, deary?" Curiio now looking back to the Blue hue of fur that was the Lukkan he replies said "Don't even ask." Sardonic tones in his voice, attention now to the sachel of the being beside..

Amidst the screaming and shouting upstairs, Kal ordered two plates of food, her silvery eyes moving up to the ceiling every so often as the noises continued. As her food came, she picked the meat from the bone, and dropped several small pieces into the satchel. More and more patrons of the tavern turned their attention to the odd Lukka and her magic satchel. Kal peered into the satchel to see little Shard gnawing away at piece of meat he had trapped between his talons. She smirked a bit and returned to her own food, picking at it with her claws.

The rukus had stopped upstairs, and Kal had nearly forgotten that anything had even happened. She ammused herself with the pathetic silverware that the barmaid had giving to her, along with her meal. The knife gracefully moved in and out of Kal's fingers, as her other hands picked, in an unenthused manner, at her food. Her ears pricked as the pale truan came down the stairs, causing Kal to turn her head to see. Seeing nothing of interest, she turned back. Hearing Shard squeal, she opened the satchel to see the small creature staring up at her with wide eyes. "What?" Kal whispered softly, knowing that those watching her would think she was a few pieces short of a puzzle. Shard made a snapping motion at her fingers. "Oh you finished it all...little porker. Sheesh." Kal chuckled softly and dropped a few more slabs of meat into the pouch. Closing the satchel flap, she covertly let her eyes wander around the tavern, catching the gaze of the pale truan. She snorted softly and returned to her meal, breaking eye contact.

Looking up from her shadowy hood, she caught the gaze of a truan seated nearby. Getting impatient, she snapped at the patron, "What never seen a Lukka before? Draw a picture, it will last you longer." Kal pulled her muzzle back a bit, flashing her teeth to the patron who frowned.

Looking startled and increasingly upset, the patron, and his four buddies pushed their stools out and stood up. The truan she had snapped at was rather chunky, with a stained shirt and breeches. "Lass ye aint wanna be gittin'a mouth wit me." the dirty patron scowled before draining the last of his ale and waving his empty flagon at her menacingly. He was quite obviously VERY drunk. Kal simply sat, the knife still playing around her fingers. "C'mon, git up you cur." he spat as he approached Kal's table.

Kal sighed, confrontantion was not what she needed, but her short temper usually got her into situations like this. It seemed they couldn't be avoided. "If you're looking for a fight, look elsewhere, I'm not interested." Kal did not even make eye contact with the dirty patron, which seemed to enrage him even more.

"Why you filthy bitch..." the patron snarled before hurling his flagon at Kal's head with all of his might. Kal had not expected the attack, after all, her bar confrontations rarely got physical. The flagon smashed into the side of her face, nearly knocking her off of the stool. Her hand immediatly came to the side of her face, coming away with a wipe of blood on her fingers. The drunk patron laughed a deep, rumbling chuckle. "Aye! Blind's a bat are ye!?" Kal carefully pulled her satchel off and tucked it neatly in the corner, protected by a stool and stood up pulling back her hood, glaring at the filthy, drunk man. "Bad plan."

In a flash Kal cracked her knuckles and lunged at the man, knocking him clear off his feet and blasting the wind from his lungs. Stradling him she cocked her fist back and slugged him hard across the jaw, two of the drunk man's cronies pulled Kal from their comrade, one issuing a blow to Kal's ear. Enough was enough. Kal shook her head and wrenched herself free of the mens' grasp. Crouching low she swept the man on her right off of his feet and elbowed him right in the temple, rendering him unconscious. The drunk man she had struck first was getting up, and his other two friends were still fully functional. As they rushed at her, Kal took a fighter's stance, issuing quick and merciless punches to each of the oncomers, but not without taking hits of her own. Her fingers curled up, exposing her palm, she smashed her hand right into the last man's chest, summoning a bit of magic as she hit, hurling the man a few feet backwards, to where he crashed through a chair and lay moaning on the floor.

Kal panted as she wiped the blood from her cheek and the corner of her mouth. The one thug had hit her hard in the head, rattling her a little. She pulled her hood up and moved back to the table where she had left her satchel. She picked it up gently setting it on the table, and leaning on it to catch her breath, her back turned to the rest of the stunned and silent tavern. All eyes were watching the robed Lukka, hunched over the table and the 4 men laying on the floor.

...Duty calls & Bar brawls... | New Haven Tavern


Curiio thoughts were expression with a simple pout of his lips, looking over the hooded Lukkan as she seems to be feeding the sachel. This now quirks a brow from the pale Truan as he leans aside of the bar. His blue gaze caught causes the Truan to look elsewhere, a fleeting and hardly subtle sweeping of his view, catching the group of rowdy Truan in his wake. Those blue orbs narrow at this pathetic scene of Truan Tragedy, noting their dirty drunken state


"What never seen a Lukka before? Draw a picture, it will last you longer." .- The voice of impatience tore Curiio's attention from the gawking patrons to the speaker who he was ever so curious of, moments ago.. Slowly but surely he pushes himself from the bar, folding his arms over his broad and black suited chest. This tone was hardly welcoming to anyone, giving Curiio the impression that there was nothing left but to leave and with that; he strode across the tavern, leaving in and out of tables toward the door. With a woody scraping of the floor boards and stools, the rowdy group stood from their stools, this harsh noise to the senses turned Curiio around to witness this abrupty display. The pale Truans focuses on the scene to determine the outcome, tilting his head some with a vague concern across his pale hollow face. Patiently he places his hands in his pockets...

"Lass ye aint wanna be gittin'a mouth wit me." Slurred the Truan patron, draining his ale and waving the empty flagon toward the Lukkan in a menacing manner.
"C'mon, git up you cur." he spat as he approached the Lukkan's table. "If you're looking for a fight, look elsewhere, I'm not interested." Said the Lukkan, barely registering the drunks, which seem to urge them further.

"Why you filthy bitch..." the patron snarled before hurling his flagon at the shrouded Lukkan head with all of his might. It seemed she had not expected the attack. The flagon smashed into the side of her face, nearly knocking her off of the stool. Curiio all the while watching this fiasco, winced at the sight, stepping forward only to be halted, as she tucked away her sachel and spoke "Bad plan" she glared. Then in a flash, The Lukkan boldy cracked her knuckles thus a full brawl ensued.

Curiio's orbs darting over the scene as the Lukkan floors each individual drunk, not without taking blows herself. Many were in silence, including the pale observing Truan, though he tended to wince and tsk as each of the men finished laying around the bar, the Lukkan Returning to hunch over the table once more. Curiio, perhaps concerned for this woman walked baby steps toward her table, minding to step over the failed and violent patrons, unconscious and murmering. He approached her with the softest of tones, barely moving a muscle as his hands lay dormant within his dark pockets. "I can take a look at that for you" He looks over her hunched form, noting the blood to her fingers, and perhaps elsewhere. "Atleast let me take alook, I'm a, I'm a healer.." He spoke with a quake of his voice.With an awkward and somewhat comical tone he adds "They did ask for it..."

Kal turned her head slightly to the pale Truan who had approached her. She stood up straight and turned to look to him, a small trickle of blood running from her nose. She brazenly wiped it off with her forearm, her other hand moving to place over her satchel protectively. She gave the Curiio the one over with her eyes, as though she were sizing up an enemy. She trusted no one these days, and even a healer of Hektar was not an excuse. Kal had begun to feel a little dizzy from the smash to the side of her head, her hand slipping from her satchel, pulling the flap with it slightly, allowing a spot for Shard to crawl through. "A healer huh?" she looked straight into the Truan's eyes, as if measuring his worth.

She closed her eyes, gathering her balance for a moment. "Yeah...alright. If you try anything, I will make sure they can't even recognize your species." As she spoke, Kal failed to realize that Shard had wormed his way out of the stachel and was sitting upright on the table, staring at Curiio with his small head cocked to one side. Luckily her body was obstructing the rest of the patrons'view of the kazur'ha, but Curiio was too close for Shard to not be seen. Shard chirped once, immediatlygathering Kal's full and utter attention. She gaped slightly, quickly looking to Curiio with a shocked expression, before hastily shoving poor Shard back into the pouch. This rough handle issued an angry squeal from Shard. But Kal only closed th flap, placed her hand over it and gave an embarrassed grin to the truan. He had to have seen Shard, but all the same she prayed he hadn't.

"Yeah...sure...but I think outside would be better." She picked up the satchel and slung it over her shoulder, making sure the flap was closed and placing her hand over it just to make sure. "You have a name, Truan?" She asked quietly as she pulled up her hood, standing up straight, resisting the urge to lean on the table.

...Blood & Honor... | On Foot in New Haven

As the Lukkan woman turns to him, she stood up straight, turnning her slightly battered form toward the pale truan. His blue orbs cast over her nose as the blood trickled down im small drops, curiio murmering to speak words of assurance before she had brazenly wiped the crimson away along her forearm. "Dear lady let me assist yo-" he said softly, pausing and taking a few steps back calmly so as the Lukkan moved a hand over the satchel, seeming to hold over it protectively. "A healer huh?" She look straight into the Truan's eyes, seeming to measure his worth. Curiio merely standing there smiling, though his blue eyes fleet from the ambivilant woman to the satchel with a small Kazur'ha sitting now atop of the table.

She closed her eyes, gathering her balance for a moment. "Yeah...alright. If you try anything, I will make sure they can't even recognize your species."

His pale face remained concerned for the woman, betraying no shock and notice for others to see as the small creature chirped once, immediately gathering the Lukkans attention. She gasped slightly, quickly looking to the Truans' face. The Truan however now looks toward the shocked expression over the female, and merely smiles; attempting to speak but the Lukkan cuts across him to add..

Yeah...sure...but I think outside would be better." She picked up the satchel and slung it over her shoulder, making sure the flap was closed and placing her hand over it just to make sure. "You have a name, Truan?" She asked quietly as she pulled up her hood, standing up straight, resisting the urge to lean on the table. Curiio merely nodded as he ran his hands through his hair afore setting them back to his pockets.

The tall pale Truan immediately turned on his heels and urges the bloodied Lukkan to follow. Curiio opened the tavern door with a light creak, those rays shimmered through each split wood that made up the makeshift door, the crack of twin light split wider, casting the Dual Noon over their wincing eyes. The suns were high in the sky now, the area still buzzing with people. "Get' em here Fresh and salty!" Yelled a trader. "I see you would like a nice fishy on ye dishy for ye din dinz eh?" Another competing trader yelled. This caused the two fish mongers to begin squabbling over customers. Curiio walked on with a slouch, the Lukkan at his side, shrouded and hunched with her satchel safely by her side.

"Ah, yes.. My name, Well I'm Atlyo" He lied, this was common of Curiio, in his mind he was incredibly vigilant, eyes darting around the place as they walked through the crouds. "And yours?" He added, the whole time they had walked through avenues, streets and alleys, Curiio had mentioned nothing of the small creature, perhaps out of attentive politeness.

"We're almost there" The Truan murmered. Halting at the opening to a long narrow alley which split off in a maze of side passages, surprisingly damp, walls so high either side that the noon's sky hardly peiced down. Lines of washing and clothes lined highup between the walls, only adding to this maze of bewilderment. Curiio frowned a moment and immediately turned down the first sub-street of the alley, turning to face the Lukkan and smiling.


"Kal, you say?- Lovely... Well Kal, trust me, I'm a healer" He smirked. "If you'll just take down your hood and we can get to work. We're safe here" He added looking more so to the satchel with a quiet reassuring tone, hands delving futher into his pockets to reveal a clean white cloths, and a bottle that was tucked inside of the cloth. As he unraveled the material, the bottle glimmered with thick golden potion, swishing about like molten lava.

Though corked, a scent of honey and fresh morning filled this damp alleyway. Curiio raised the bottle to his lips and bit off the cork, pursed now between his lips. He mutters with a wince of his eyes "Right- now tilt your head back if you can, alright? You -have- to trust me. I will leave you be after." He nods curtly, pouring a small amount of golden potion to the cloth, it seems minutes before the liquid actually soaked into the cloth, the honey scent stronger now. "Just rub that over your nose, or anywhere giving you pain, alright?- if you feel it is more.. internal, think of the pain, focus on it and ingest some of that, lick it from the cloth- it's clean I assure you"....

Kal followed the healer through the streets. While she did not fully trust the man, she knew that she was more than capable of handling anything that she got into, she was the Rift-Slayer afterall. Kal kept one hand protectively over the satchel, the other brushed easily at her thigh. A special slit had been crafted into the hips of the robe, allowing access to Kal's swords easily. Thus her hand was close to her sword. Shekept her head low, only turning her head slightly towards Curiio as he spoke his name. "Atlyo eh? Call me..." she paused for a moment, contemplating the name that she should give to him. She would rather give her alias 'Rift-Slayer', but letting Atylo know that a powerful fighter like her was even remotely injured by a band of thugs...well...inconcievable. "Kal." she stated after a moment.

As they stopped deep in the alleyway, Kal's eyes roamed over her surroundings taking in possible escape routes and ways to use the situation to her advantage, should the healer turn out to be something he was not. However, contrary to Kal's thoughts, Curiio simply produced Healer's equipment and asked her to be treated. She pulled back her hood and let him inspect her nose, to which she accepted the cloth and dabbed her nose gently. After wiping the blood from her nose, she dabbed the cloth at her temple, the pain slowly subsiding from her head. Kal pulled the cloth back, inspecting the dark blood staining the stark cloth. "What is this? I've not seen anything like it. This could be very handy at the Rift." She touched the cloth to her temple again, the concoction easing the throbbing pain in her head.

Seeing that this man was not about to harm her, she decided to engage in small talk. It would be much to her advantage to have a healer who she knew and could trust. Alas, it was becoming increasingly difficult to tell friend from foe these days. More and more people were switching sides as mercenaries, the pay was good that's for sure, it didn't matter that you were betraying your fellows...it was about money. "You could do a lot of good at the Rift you know. You and this liquid of yours. You ever seen the Rift?"

Kal's head was clearing quickly, the liquid doing wonders. She looked to the cloth (now stained with swaths of blood from her nose) before handing it back to Curiio. "Handy stuff. Sorry about the stain."

Shard squealed from his dark enclosure, begging to get some fresh air. Kal's hand immediatly moved over the satchel, offering the same embarrassed grin again. Kazur'ha kits fetched a handy price on the market. The kazur'ha were extremely difficult to breed in captivity, and just as difficult to train as adults. Kits could be trained much more easily if allowed to bond with their owner. But Kal had no intention of letting go of Shard, he was her companion. Thus she tried to take care in keeping him secret when she entered the cities, and it was too risky to leave him on the outside while she went away. Shard was particularly irritable this day, usually he kept rather silent, but he was edgy to escape the satchel.

Kal looked from the satchel to Curiio, hoping that he would say nothing, but prepared to defend herself and Shard should he do so.

..Right, Wrong and The Rift... | New Haven Alleyway



Kal had pulled back her hood and let him inspect her nose, to which she accepted the cloth and dabbed her nose gently. After wiping the blood from her nose, she dabbed the cloth at her temple, the pain slowly subsiding from her head. Kal pulled the cloth back, inspecting the dark blood staining the stark cloth. "What is this? I've not seen anything like it. This could be very handy at the Rift." She touched the cloth to her temple again, the concoction easing the throbbing pain in her head.

"You could do a lot of good at the Rift you know. You and this liquid of yours. You ever seen the Rift?" She added conversationally. "No, I have not" He lied with those blue orb-like eyes fleeting from the healing woman to the cloth which she hands back to him. "Handy stuff, sorry about the Stain". Curiio smirked a tad and poured another generous dose of the golden wonder over the stained cloth, moments as it seeped into the soaked damp cloth, all that remained was pure white material once more. The Truan corked the bottle and wrapped it up in the now clear cloth once more, pocketing it inside his lengthy dark coat. Both their attentions were drawn to the squal from the satchel she held.

The Truans eyes noting her grin and grinning himself, fine brows raising with a look of impresseion. "My my, how rare. What is it's name?" He kept the conversation somewhat naive and friendly, stepping back a tad with his hands now to his pockets, perhaps wary of the creature. "In regards to the Rift, I will elaborate, I have never seen it. Me and war are... over."

He smiled politely, blue eyes glancing around the alley a moment afore stopping to gaze over the two infront of him. As the Lukkan replied, curiio fished out another bottle, small in size, similar to the golden potion, but its contents were clear and colourless. It would look empty if it was not for the small bubbles that rose up to the corked neck of the glass. Curiio casually sipped from the bottle, his lengthy sweeping lashes fluttered as he drank "Ah thats lovely.."

he said perhaps randomly. Curiio's expressions of awe at the creature and it's owner were washed away by the contents he drank, leaving just a blank canvas of skin as he looked to them. "-This- is a calming fluid. I brewed it myself. Highly addictive though. The gold one you used however is a "special" brew of targon sources and a bit of honey.. Trust me if there was no honey, you wouldn't put it on your face or even near your nose, phew, quite the stench. It cures all manner of mortal wounds, and uh... puts a stopper in pain. Can also do some other things but uh, mainly medical." He said vaguely, finishing with a cheshire grin.

//(Excuse the belated, typo riddled short post. Rough night last night x)

As Curiio's attention was drawn to the small kit in her satchel, Kal decided it would be better to let Shard out for a bit, here with only one watching, than to have him create a scene where dozens of people would be able to see. She sighed resignedly and opened the pouch, bringing the small creature from it and letting him climb onto her shoulder. "His name is Shard." and the kit chirped happily, glad to be free from his dark enclosure. Shard inclined his head toward Curiio, sniffing curiously. Kal moved her eyes to watch Curiio take a step back. "He's a biter." Kal offered a small smile and tusseled the fur on the kit's head, initiating an irritated noise from Shard, who pulled his head back.

As the Lukkan replied, curiio fished out another bottle, small in size, similar to the golden potion, but its contents were clear and colourless. It would look empty if it was not for the small bubbles that rose up to the corked neck of the glass. Curiio casually sipped from the bottle, his lengthy sweeping lashes fluttered as he drank "Ah thats lovely.."

Kal watched in silence (trying to hide her awe) as the Truan cleaned the cloth with another dose of the honey liquid. "The War is far from over Atlyo." she cast her gaze to the ground. "The Rift is something every being on this planet should see at least once in their life. Just to remind them of the devestation and the horrors the Praton has committed." From his words it was obvious that Kal was very passionate about the War, about defending her homeworld. Simply from speaking of the Rift, a warrior's glint came to Kal's eye. "It is impossible to be neutral nowadays...with the war spread so far and wide." Shard began using his elbow claws (much like a bat) and began crawling over Kal, the lukka not seeming to notice or care. "But I suppose that is your own perogative."

As Curiio fished out she smaller bottle, Kal watched him take it, wondering what other medical mysteries this man had hidden away on his person. As he vaguely explained the effects of the latter bottle, Kal smirked a bit. "Oh really?" she let a small chuckle slip.

Her smile faded, replaced by a pensive look. She look directly at the truan, gathering Shard into her arms. "I have a proposition for you. I am on my way to Stavehorn, and stopping by the city of Opani, I could use a healer and the Dessarti have some herbs that you might be interested in. They're of the desert, so they're more abundant in Opani." Shard wriggled from Kal's grip and sprung on Curiio, latching onto his coat, sniffing the material before beginning to gnaw on the right lapel.

...Help & helpless... | New Haven Alley

Curiio smiled most wryly for a moment, still back from the creature before it sprung onto his coat, gnawing upon the already freyed lapel. Those blue orb-like eyes cast from the woman to the creature every so often. "Well uh, I am not very- uh. I'm not good with other people. As much as new herbs sound entic-" he paused, looking toward the creature, his face expressing little, but his hesitations in his voice betrayed a kind of worry..

"Feisty isn't he? Well- I have something to do first. Something I must collect and someone I must see before I can collect it, before I can even ponder leaving this city- Alone or not. I could meet you outside the gates to travel with you. I am willing to help." .

The Truan steps forward slowly, heaving a sigh so that his broad chest pertruded out, offering the irritable Kazur'ha to be taken from his attire. "You know how it is I'm sure. Hardly anyone these days wishes to work with others. It's easier for me to help a stranger, but then I don't see them again. Traveling with you is, is... Constant interaction, I'm not that kind of man. Don't expect deep and meaningfuls" He scowled toward the pensive lukka.

"As I said, if you can hold up until dusk, I will travel with you. I am sure daylight is better for us, but my duties keep me here until such time" He stated rather boldly, blue eyes glancing up toward the noon suns. Their iredescent rays barely peeking through the high rise narrow walls. High up in the buildings was a woman wringing out her wet washing, minding her own business as she pegged the materials and clothes onto a line to dry. Curiio narrows his eyes up to this women, seeing little point to do such chores when there was so little light in this ghetto of New Haven. "-Well, there you have it" He said looking back to the beings infront of him. "I will assist -you- if you wait for -me-. Once I have found out what it is I am obtaining, you may help me with that. I'm sure "more the merrier" is an appropriate phrase. - Until then" He adds, "I am preoccupied".

He finished with a stern furrowing of his fine dark brows, hands to his pockets as he rolls back and forth on his booted heels, allowing him to tower up and down over the two impatiently. "-But I am -not- going to the rift" He muttered, averting those blue eyes to the puddle of oily water aside of where they stood, fixating his eyes upon a rat that seemed to be bathing in the shallow water.

"Well uh, I am not very- uh. I'm not good with other people. As much as new herbs sound entic-" he paused, looking toward the creature, his face expressing little, but his hesitations in his voice betrayed a kind of worry. Kal raised her eye ridge a bit at the odd response. The look turned to that of shock as Shard leapt upon the Truan. "I am so sorry about that...you have to give him a minute, if I try to pry him off now, he'll tear your coat." Kal winced a bit, hoping that this incident would not ruin the conversation.

"Feisty isn't he? Well- I have something to do first. Something I must collect and someone I must see before I can collect it, before I can even ponder leaving this city- Alone or not. I could meet you outside the gates to travel with you. I am willing to help." Curiio stated. "Of course. I did not mean this eve, I have duties to attend to that will keep me here for a day or so. Do take your time in acquiring what you need." As the Truan pushed his chest out, Kal reached out and flicked Shard on the ear. The startled Kazur'ha looked back at Kal, to which she took this moment to snatch the small creature from Curiio's coat, and ensnare him in her arms. "Sorry..." Kal slowly wiped the small amount of Shard's saliva from the coat lapel.

Kal smirked a bit as Curiio spoke. "I'm not exactly the deep and meaningful type. As for traveling with? Well, yes we travel by day, but as for nights? Well let's just say I don't need as much sleep as you, I will be out most of the time. You will have plenty of time to have your thoughts to yourself." As Shard settled down, Kal placed him back into the satchel, and closed the flap. She brought her eyes back up to bare on the Truan. "And as I said, we will not depart for a day or so. I have things to accomplish as well, so take your time. In two days time we will meet by the gates at midday. Do such arrangements suit your fancy?" As Curiio rocked on his bootheels, Kal merely remained in a relaxed fighter's stance. Her ears pricked up a bit as the pale man muttered under his breath. Kal surpressed a grin, "No, I won't take you to the Rift. On my honor."

Just then a truan guard turned into the alley, his weapon at ease on his shoulder. He squinted at the two, before a broad smile washed over her face. He was slightly overweight, with a cherubic face a deep purple shade of hair. His silver armor dulled by the darkness of the alleyway. "Lady Rift-Slayer," he announced with a bow. "Lord General Maurtath wishes an audience with you immediately, we were sent to locate you right away and escort you to the academy." The academy of New Haven was where the decisions regarding the Rift War were made, warlords and politicians alike joined met here to discuss the outcome of Targon and the directions of the war. The academy was heavily guarded, allowing no one to enter without an assigned escort. The truan guard stood back up straight, and looked straight at Kal, ignoring Curiio.

Lowering her voice a bit, Kal looked back to Curiio. I suppose that is my cue. Two days time, midday at the gates." She nodded to Curiio. "Thank you for the heal. I am in your debt." She bowed her head to him slightly, swishing her robes away from her feet, the slits in the side revealing the twin swords at her hips. "Please excuse me, apparently I am needed." And with that she walked towards the guard, who turned and began to walk from the alley.

...Death, Addiction and Jurisdiction... | The alley and onward in New Haven

Left to his own devices, the pale Truan stands alone within the maze-like alley watching the Lukka walk onward with the guard. Curiio's large broad form, tall and suited leans aside of the damp grimey bricked alley wall, turning so that his back slide down the rough exterior to his backside. Those long legs bent to his chest as he crouches down with a sigh, the Truan ponders in the alley, looking toward the rat still bathing itself within the oily puddle before him. "How is it vermin bathe? Rift-slayer? Who is she? I need to get to Edmond, filthy begger. I need to know" Curiio's thoughts were running wild within his mind of the tavern encounter and of Edmond the Ex orphanage caretaker. "Oh.." He sighs, running those gloved hands through his dark messy locks, wiping his mind free. The truans long legs stretch out along the damp cobble, this startles the bathing vermin forcing it to scutter away with a squeak; the bootheels of the pale Truan lie within the oily water. Atop of his lap Curiio sets out the white cloth once used to dab at the Boistrous lukkans face, Lining three bottles aside of his thigh, the golden fluid, the vague and transparent calming fluid along with a murkey green bottle, taller than the two next to it, thin and smooth in shape. Last but not least a deep crimson bottle aligned with a black bottle. Each of those he uncorks, pouring generous amounts into a tiny shot bottle, empty and clean. One after another the colours and fluids mix, emitting a low fizzing sound with little smell, each drop of the mixed potions cancel out the prominent honey from the golden potion. Now the Truan corks the mixture and shakes it vigorously, in one quick gulp he drains the content and hastily pockets all of the kit into his coat, leaving only to white cloth, which he stuffs into his mouth and bites down upon the material.

The woman above, previously hanging out her washing peers over her dirty mold riddled window ledge, down toward the Truan, who seems to be murmering in his sleep, muffled by the white material stuffed between his lips. "Wha ye doin' down there, get out of 'ere ye dirty begger!" She registers the man below as nothing more than a junkie, and begins to throw stones at the man. She vanishes from view in the window and no sooner does she return with a bucket of water, tossing it down onto the slumped junkie Truan, soaking him through. He remains still now, no murmer, no nothing, dripping wet within the alley. "That'll teach ye!" She cackles, slamming her shutters down on her narrow high halfway house...

Silence & Stillness | A lucid dream

Curiio sat slumped to the ground still and seemingly dead as the little colour in his cheeks faded, for what seemed like a life time as the clouds passed the pale Truans lashes fluttered; a mind filled with visions: The Rift Slayer fighting drunks the pain of her ambivilance, curiio winced and a few of his gloved fingers caressed the damp ground within the alley. His parents hoping for his safe return, their bright hopeful faces searching through a market of corpses hung up under awnings of trade and sale. A particular corpse was that of a red headed middle ages man, skin worn and dry, propped up for sale. Curiio's eyes within this dreamlike state focused upon the man only to have his vision impaired by his mothers large round face, looking straight through him, those blue eyes searching past his very essense. For a moment it seemed as though she could be looking at her adoptive child, and just as quick, she vanished, leaving only Curiio and the red headed corpse of a much younger Edmond, Edmond the Orphanage caretaker. Across his wrinkled forehead was carvings of symbols, lengthy angular symbols which contorted in size and shape, forming that of common.

Curiio focused upon the words, which then become perhaps a phrase "Teach me". More and more to see as the words become numbers, references and lines. Each bloodies carving began to scrap further along the caretakers dead face, mapping wounds of what seemed like newhaven. Over the very bridge of the corpses nose appaeared a larger wound, removing the bridge to reveal a large skulled nasel hole. The dark point of interest lead curiio's vision inward, further and further before a hollow rattling gasp jerked him into the darkness. "Argh! Ah... Uh.. Oh" Curiio rasped, jerking awake and biting down upon the white cloth stuffed within his mouth, those large orb like eyes dilated and searching the alleyway frantically. "New Haven, but where... Numbers... Letters... Maps.. Logic and location" He thought, mind running wild as he began to recover from the alchemical dream. "Where are the children? With numbers and letter? Children, think come on, Children numeracy and literacy- School! The school, he lives near the bloody school". Curiio concluded and pushed himself uneasily from the ground, dusting down his attire and striding off. Out of the alley and through the crouds, this pale Truan weaved in and out of passing merchants and patrons, pushing through tents and awnings, stepping over trade and now jogging toward the academies.


The centre of New Haven, the Academies near by and the people busying themself with their daily chores. Curiio stood out like a sore thumb within the sparse crouds, a tall pale being clad from head to toe in black, gazing frantically up toward a towering home, one small child peered down from a dirty stain-glass window at the top most floor of the building. The small dark hair boy waved down to Curiio though his face was pale and hollow, reflecting a younger version of Curiio. And those eyes, those eyes seemed to peirce worryingly down to Curiio through the murkey glass window. Hazing up the pale Truan walked onward toward a stone arched tunnel, a short way through the tunnel lead to a small courtyard over grown with weeds and ivys along trellace and limestone, curling up and up the high walls. Somewhere beneath the over grown bushel was a stone staircase leading up from the garden to the highest point. Curiio climbed the stairs heading toward an old worn wooden door, studded with rusty metal. He knocked three times through the hollow woodworm eaten barriage, a quiet voice whispered behind the door "Who is it?" - "Let me in boy, I wish to speak with Edmond" Replied Curiio, his tone stern. The door shuddered and clinked as latches behind must have been rolling over the door, releasing a barricade of locks, to allow the old wood to swing open, the boy on the other side gazed up to Curiio with Large Blue eyes, one of them bruised and blackened, dressed in grey robes and bare foot. "He's not well, he doesn't like visit-" Curiio halted the child and walked onward through a dark musty hall, carpet freying along the way with stains of colour all throughout this long hallway. "Who isit boy?! Tell them I don't have the rent!" Bellowed an elderly man from across the way. Curiio continued his paced steps toward his destination, the frame of the narrow doorway in his sights growing larger and larged as he walked onwards, barging through it he stood, glaring over an elder man, riddled with flie and the scent of human wastes, stained bed sheets and moldy food. This bed ridden monstrosity was once the ultimate fear in Curiio's eyes, now but a frail old man.

"I knew you couldn't leave me be, Boy" The caretaker rasped, his skinny chest heaving slowly to sit up in his bed. Curiio raised a hand to silence the man, stepping to the foot of his bed. "Use my name" He stated coldly, his blue eyes just as cold, as they peirce the mans hazey lids. "Curiio..." He replies, looking away from the Young Truans glare. "You never used my name, you refered to me as boy, a boy... Like the rest of them, You did not descriminate who you defiled, yet you always came to me, Why Edmond?!" The Truan said calmly, though his teeth were grinding now.
Edmond did not reply, he attempted the reach for a glass of water on the side table, yet his shakey grasp knocked the glass to the floor with a shatter, water and shards of glass scattered over the wood board floor and cock roaches scuttered under the bed. This abrupt noise provoked the small boy from the hall to run through the door to the two men, a dust brush and bag in hand, hastily cleaning up the accident silently. "Who is he?! He looks rather like your taste" Curiio glanced to the boy. "His name is Samuel. My Grandson" Rasped Edmond". "Samuel, get your grandfather another glass. No water." The boy did no hesitate, he stopped his cleaning and walked away bare foot through the shards on the floor toward what must have been the kitchens, clinking and clattering of cutlery and pots were heard. "Did you ever?-" "No!" Elderly Edmond coughed. "I could never. He is family." "Then why me?" Curiio asked. The elder man rolled over onto his side, facing away from Curiio, a small cell like window cast the dual suns beams over his greying red hair, each of his wrinkles were deepend by the rays, enhancing his frail appearance. "You were special... I knew that much, and look at you. I was not wrong. I knew you would come, even after you deposed me from the Orphanage management." Edmond whispered, clutching his pillow.

"Where is it?" Curiio asked simply though the elderly man did not respond; the small child came rushing back in with an empty clean glass. Curiio held out his gloved hand and took the glass from the boy, sending him away with a lazy gesture. Once vacated with just the two equally broken men in the room, curiio fished into his pockets and uncorked to pour some of the golden potion within the glass. The contents of the bottle drastically lower now. "Drink this, it will help you." Curiio offered, though his face was not that of sympathy. "No.. I deserve this. I deserve to suffer. Tis me penance for all I did." The man confessed though curiio's tone was that of disbelief "Silence you, all that comes from your mouth is prattle and lies, and now because you are old and ill you seek redemption? For what? For acceptance into heavens? There is no such thing Edmond, and if there is- you aint going there.". "If that be True Cu-c, Curio... Then death is mere peace for me eh?" The frail man looked back to Curiio, a softness to his ill and frail features. "Drink" Curiio replied though the man silently refused, curiio walked closer toward the mans side, setting the glass atop of the side cabinet of the bed, taking a quick glance out of the cell window, down to the markets. "Theres so much out there Edmond, so much I've seen and so little that others want to see. I should thank you for that, atleast. Giving me a real view of the world."

"I'm so, so Sorry Curiio. Please, help a frail man ease his woes." Though Curiio shook his head. "Not until you tell me of what lies beneath. How it is even one a perverse and simple as you knows."

"It will help.. That is all I know. It will help whoever possesses it. Though I do not think it is the only piece of the Puzzle. You won't be the only one seeking it's "assistance" will you?" The man looked up to the pale form blocking the light from the cell-like window. "Where is it Edmond, Please..."

"Beneath... From beneath it cowers" Said the old man. "Oh, more vague prattle Edmond, shame on you" Curiio jeered scornfully. "Do some good Curiio, end it. Me.. Focus on what matters without the burdens I forced upon you" "No... Drink the potion. I will not see you harmed,". "But I invite it boy. I welcome it. Please I beg you" The old man finished, coughing into his pillow leaving small droplets of blood, soaking into his dirty stained pillow.


Curiio winced at the form, his face now contort with sympathy, as much as this old man did not deserve such from the Pale Truan.
He rolled the elderly bed ridden being to his backside, tugging the pillow from beneath his wrinkled stubbley neck, holding it between his large black gloved hands, those silvery rings glinting in the light of the elderly mans eyes. "Thank you" Edmond, the once monsterous caretaker rasped. And with that, Curiio bit his lip, frowning over the frail form, controlling tears as he places the pillow over the mans face. He did not struggle as Curiio pressed further down, masking the man in his own pillow, suffocating the hopeless caretaker. "Rest.." he pushed down upon the mans face, looking out to the daylight "Well...". He murmered, closing his eyes, bathing in the windowed sunlights rays

Blood is thicker than Potion? | Curiio's Haven

The tired Truan named Curiio layed upon a dusty dark green couch, worn and patchy much like its owner. He lay gazing into the recently doused fireplace, smoke rising from its damp charred wood logs. In the distance not far from Curiio's dingy run down haven which was set along side a narrow cobbled street, he heard commotion coming from the City gates. All Curiio wanted to do was sleep, feeling his soft eye lids closing, only to jerk wide open again at every command from the guards deep voices. What seemed like such a long day was not even over yet, dusk was hours away and poor Curiio was ready to collapse. His mind filled with new faces, infomation and guilt. "Did Edmond mean what he said? Was he truely sorry? Curiio wondered. If so then why did his apparent grandson have a black eye? Was it possible the frail old man was still able to abuse others." Curiio did not know, nor would he ever now. The elderly monstrosity got what he wanted and this pained Curiio imensely, surprisingly so. Trying to shut out the commotion from the city gates, Curio rolled over to face the couches musky old back rest, the dull fabric caressing into his face as he nuzzled into it. Slowly but surely drifting off into a sombre rest.

"Beneath from beneath it cowers" A hazey raspy voice bellows within Curiio's head. Sounds of agression in the distance of his mind. "I am no Mutant stalking your plains". As curiio's slumber deepened his dream like state was filled with ferocious visions of a face tightly smothered in material, gasping and writhing in his view. This shocking vision jerked Curiio awake, his own face feeling suffocated against the dusty dark couch. He rolled back in reflex and toppled off the couch onto the floor, hitting his head upon a wrickety old table. How long had he been asleep for, he did not know, but other than the throbbing ringing in his head the guards agressive conversations could still be heard. He grasped the side of the table, and pulled himself up onto his feet, clasping the back of his head with his free hand. His sleepy eyes took a swift glance around the room, cosey and warm with his coat and gloves tossed over a chair back, smoke still flowing up the chimney from the fire place, he could of only been dozing a few moments. To keep himself calm, curiio proceeded to the fire place where a small cauldron hungover the charred woodpile. Still simmering with a thick golden brew within. Taking a lengthy spoon, curiio delved the cutlery into the brewing pot and sipped from the contents. A smile eased his pained face and he trotted back to the couch and sat. Counting out empty bottles atop of the table.

As the guard escorted Kal from the ally, Kal couldn’t help but to let a bit of her irritation show on her face. She had tried to keep her identity to the public as secret as possible, she only used the title Rift-Slayer with those of authority, or when she needed to sway an opinion. But to brazenly pronounce it to the commoner Curiio, well that just wouldn’t do. As they wound their way through the streets, the cherubic guard kept stealing glances at Kal, it was evident that he was desperately trying to hold in a smile…but it was quite obviously not working. Kal merely kept her eyes forward as they made their way to the Academy, set near the eastern wall of New Haven. Finally it seemed as though the guard busted, “It was said in the academy that you slew 200 Pratons single handedly!” Kal sighed, “Don’t read too much into stuff, you’ll hurt yourself.” The truant looked stunted for a moment from Kal’s sharp reply. “Well is it true?” he pried. Kal’s ears flattened out a bit, displaying her irritation, she often hated being the center of attention.

She did not kill for the glory, or for fame and wealth, she killed because she enjoyed the blood sport, and despised the Pratons with every fiber of her being. Kal killed because it was, what she believed, the right thing to do. She had become somewhat of a celebrity in the war effort, but it was not something that she welcomed.

“Well?” the guard nudged Kal gently as the academy came into view. “You really think one person is capable of defeating 200 enemies in one go? Be rational, and learn to hold your tongue.” Kal snapped, which shut the truant up immediately. The guard announced Kal to the guards stationed at the academy doors, to which they swung the doors open to allow Kal and her escort to pass. Kal’s ears pricked up as she heard a bit of commotion outside the walls, but she dismissed it as an angry person quarrelling with the guards.

Once inside, she was lead to the War room where an aging Truan, with dulled blue hair was bent over maps and charts of the wasteland. The guards left Kal in the room and retreated, closing the large doors behind them. “The threats are getting worse,” the older Truan did not even look up from the table as he spoke. He was dressed in elegant armour, small scars decorating his hands and face. “Lord Maurtath,” Kal bowed her head a bit, showing her respect for the war general. “New war efforts from the Praton side have begun to push our troops back, Opani was attacked not three days ago.” Kal frowned, the Pratons were getting more and more ambitious, which meant more trouble for Targon and for her.

Maurtath had just opened his mouth to speak, when a young, thin, lamis burst through the door, “General! You must come to the city wall immediately!” The general’s brow furrowed, “They cannot be here…” the general quickly followed the lamis out with Kal in tow. As they scaled the wall, Kal saw that numerous archers all had arrows at the ready, aimed at a single target. As she looked out over the wall to lay eyes on the strangest creatures she had ever seen. A massive bony plated being stood with a thin, horned demonesque looking creature. Kal arched a brow looking at the two, they were nothing like she has ever seen.

“They’re Pratons,” Kal whispered to Maurtath, though she had no idea. Kal trusted nothing and figured it would be better to be safe than sorry. “Kill them both.” The guard captain looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice, “Our arrows have no effect, engaging them in melee combat would not prove a wise choice.” Kal sneered, her hands drifting close to the swords on her hips. She was no keen on engaging either one, but letting them live was not a smart move either. New Haven was in danger, and Kal was caught.