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Marigold	... It's easy to miss the sound of an exhausted horse cantering closer, until a soft surprised-concerned-sounding hubbub rises from the camp outside. An absolutely haggard woman, dehydrated and unslept, rips open the tent's flap and lurches inside. It takes a minute to recognize her.      "Igrene?? Why are you--"      She looks around, eyes wide behind her straggly hair, and cuts him off. "Please. Where's Fae?!"      - - - -      After a panic around camp, searching for Fae goes smoothly-ish. Sophia has a precognitive hunch of the vague direction, and Lilian can apply her gifts for an idea; though Fae seems to have favored gliding almost as much as walking on her comically long solo journey, once they're on the trail fliers like Mia can find evidence of tiny rest sites, and Madeleine can string those together with the occcasional child-sized swath of broken foliage.      But the path is a day or two old. In searching for Roy's army, Fae overshot. Did she misidentify the terrain she saw through Flamel's tablet?      When the group runs into Echolalia, hot on the same trail, they can confirm the worst through her telepathic contact with Fae. She's been taken by 'green scary men', Etrurian soldiers, and is being kept prisoner in a tent without her dragonstone.      - - - -      THE LYCIAN-ETRURIAN BORDER      Outside an encampment of Knight-General Perceval's men.      And so here you are, with a handpicked team of locals, crouched in the woods. Ahead of you is the semicircular earthenworks wall of an army camp, and behind that a river; they're lightly dug in, though whether they're expecting to have to suppress Lycia or protect themselves against a traitorous Bern, it's hard to say. Maybe they're just keeping the engineers busy.      For function, you've got Lucius, Rutger, Sophia, Larum, and a still-haggard-looking Igrene. Chad the orphan boy has managed to smuggle himself in too, and nobody's objecting. Lastly is 'Elffin', revealed now as the thought-dead Prince Myrddin of Etruria, hoping to present himself to Perceval to persuade him to desert the coup.      ... And Roy, of course, who could've perfectly well given orders from afar, but is instead here crouched against a hillside pine tree staring at the distant walls of a camp. He's all scuffed up by the scrabbling pursuit of the last couple days, but you've got to appreciate his perseverance.      "Right," he says, with a heavy breath. None of the adults he's used to leaning on are present. In their absence, he seeks a comforting glance from Lucius; the priest smiles, and Chad nods approval. Good choice of surrogate dad.
Marigold	"Um. To make sure everyone's all together: we need to rescue Fae, find Fae's dragonstone, allow Myrddin to be taken to meet Perceval, sabotage their means of pursuit, and escape." He double-checks he didn't forget anything on his fingers. "Lucius can extract us with the warp staff we got in the Western Isles. If things turn very ugly, Rutger is confident she can make a fighting retreat through the woods to draw the army away."      Rutger- my goodness, the continent's been kind to her; her skin's practically glowing these days- naturally doesn't object. Her fingers tap one of the two swords at her waist, almost impatiently.      "In the longer term, I'm worried about a large-scale pursuit. If Perceval won't listen to Myrddin..." "I'm fairly sure that he will," Myrddin says. "Only fairly. We could be pinned down between Perceval and Galle. But there's no telling what Bern could achieve if Perceval turned a real dragon over to them. Even in a big strategic sense, we can't afford to leave Fae or her stone."      "I'm glad you see it my way," Igrene says, who must be here mainly out of her concern. Roy nods, unhappily.      You first met him about six months ago. He sounds more than six months older.      He sighs and squeezes his eyes shut for another moment to think. "Now, Larum. Anyone else who's good at scouting. I'll need you to go in first and assemble--"      Footsteps crunch through the woods. Heads whip around to look.      "Hey!" says Clarine, staggering into frame with a rolled-up parchment in hand. She's dressed in her proper noblewoman regalia, only slightly marred by hiking. After a moment she finds a stump to spread it on. "You didn't think I was going to let Rutger and all of you do this without the House of Reglay's help, did you? Hmp~."      It's...      A MAP: https://i.imgur.com/RH3SGA4.png      "Huh? Did you draw that? How did you--?"      "Oh, they let me in."      "What?"      "I'm an Etrurian noblewoman in good standing, aren't I~?"      Rutger studies it for a moment. "... Useful." "Really??" ". . ." "I- I mean. Of course~." "We shouldn't be letting you out of our sight, though." "Come on!"
Flamel Parsons	Flamel Parsons is ready to work. He's so, so ready. Major infiltration like this? Absolutely his business. He'll map the place out. He's got fancy goggles with green optics -- FIVE of them -- over his head. He's got a fancy tactical gear harness. He's got an all-black jumpsuit, with the boots and everything. He's got gadgets and devices aplenty. And he's got a ton of what look like incredibly blurry orbital photographs, ready to start a huge briefing the minute Igrene says that scouting is needed. Fae must be rescued, and he must do it stealthily!!     Flamel is instantly deflated by Clarine.     "Really? You got all of it? There wasn't... a few buildings you weren't near? No secret second area with incredibly tight security?" He holds one hand tight onto one of his super-lockpickers that doubles as a remote camera that can be moved through doors and then make noises at a distance in the room beyond. "You're *sure*?" Awww.     He laughs, dumps the goggles, and detaches the tactical gear-harness all at once. "Haha, oh well! Good work, Clarine!" He beams brightly. "Alright, I can't share my invisibility but I *might* be able to do some short-term memory wipes and perceptive shifts in short bursts. If that's what you need to get over the palisade walls or in through the river, it's what you might be able to have! I'm going to sneak in, grab some minds, make sure any watchmen up high are defused, and scan memories for Fae's specific location, and the location of that dragonstone! That'll mean taking a look at the brain of the camp, the command tent. If I can't make any headway there, well, I'm no Agent Boole but I'll take a shot at distracting them by riling up the animals. Plan B!"     "Let's get to work!" He claps his hands together once, in an eager-to-start way, and apparently vanishes into nothing when his invisibility flicks on. He's got a plan to sneak his way in over the palisade walls. Any security near the river won't be based on visibility, so he'll be levitating up them and over them, quietly neutralizing the hostility in the minds of any Etrurian he encounters at the top, and beginning to telepathically infiltrate as much of the forces there as he can to locate all the points and people of interest.     As he approaches the command tent, importance and tactical knowledge should increase, so he'll start probably from somewhere in the west and move east through the open space between the tents. Should be enough room for an invisible man to move, make it to that tent, and carefully use clairvoyance to scan its interior!
Trudy Grimm	Trudy missed the Etrurian leg of the initial trip into the Western Isles, having only caught up with them on those distant shores, so this part of the journey back towards Lycia is all new lands for her. And now she sits on a branch of a healthy old tree, kicking her legs while considering her possible contributions to a stealth operation. Beneath her, the Black Knight looms with his sword drawn and resting on his shoulder.     Raising the dead may be one of the pinnacles of distractions and psychological weapons at her disposal, but going in more discreetly is a different animal entirely. Hand rubs chin in thought while the others quicken to their own talents. Echolalia and Dysnomia committing to a distraction tactic; adding the Black Knight to that would be, she surmises, unwise. Madeleine and Flamel doing the actual sneaking in... Her command over shadows might be a good method of entry, but-- redundant.     After a moment, the witch nods once and lifts up the Grimoire. Its buckle unfastens and the tome flutters open in a flurry of seemingly blank pages. Once it stops, a warm glowing point draws a line of cozy yellow-orange firelight into the shape of Peorth, the Rune of the Hearth. Crackling firelight illuminates her face as she twists Peorth into a new shape, warping it into Mannaz, the Rune of Man.     A runic circle expands out around her feet, rotating circles within circles. The rune compresses and she grabs it-- then reaches out and scatters a softly glimmering dust above the camp.     "Haven't you worked so very hard, my darling soldiers? Here, take a break. Rest your weary eyes and haggard souls," Her voice comes as a whisper, soothingly through an admittedly diluted Curse of Sleep, "You are safe and protected, after all. You have more than earned a little nap. Come, come, and rest your heads..."
Odette Raskins	"Please. Where's Fae?!" This isn't the first time Odette's had to look for a missing person. She's got more experience looking for older people than children, but which one does Fae count as? Can she be bribed with anything, like a a cat or a child? OR... No, there's a trail to follow, and the fliers have it well in hand. That means she can just focus on making sure she has enough medical supplies prepared for whatever worst case scenario they might find,  especially after hearing the bad news from Echolalia. The medic is hard at work making sure everyone's in top form while scouting and preparing to ambush the encampment, all while listening to Roy spell out their current objectives. Finding fae, keeping them from following us and pincering us if something goes wrong... Um. I heard ancient historical warriors used to dam up rivers and then release them on unsuspecting enemies during a pursuit, but that might be too... Uh." She looks over at Echolalia with a raised eyebrow. "I-is that something you could do? And... Hhh. What else do we have...?" Rubbing her face, Odette rearranges the contents of her duffel bag a bit, making sure she has all her emergency triage supplies right at the top. "Here, Miss Rutger. There's meds in here that should help close up wounds and keep any bleeding from getting too..." As she approaches Rutger to offer her a handful of medical pens, Odette gets a little awestruck looking at her up close. "T-too... Distracting. Y-you just take the cap off and poke yourself in the arm then chuck the empty thing away I can always get more later its cheap and nobody'll notice." She rambles briefly, then clears her throat and takes a deep breath to get her head back on track. "Sorry. Ah. J-just don't get too in over your head, okay? These things aren't instant, but they'll keep you on your feet for a good while if things really do go bad." The concern over a pincer attack lingers in her head for a while longer, but Clarine's arrival with a map gets Odette to start studying it real closely. "G-good job, Miss Clarine! I might need to get some nobility-acting lessons from you sometime." She comments with an awkward little chuckle, then coughs lightly into her hand before noticing something on the map. "Wait. If we're worried about them following us, can... M-Miss Mia?" She looks around briefly, stopping once she spots Dysnomia. "Can you.. Er. Would it be a good idea to light some fires around the stables, or the pegasi? I-if we scare them off before anyone starts riding them, we might not have to worry about them following us or even.. Er. G-going after our own fliers?"
Echolalia	Echolalia just left for a little bit and when she got back...Fae was GONE! She's been a-searching and reaching out with her own consciousness to try and find Fae's. Once she's done, she reassures her again and again they'll find her and rescue her and to be brave and strong for just a little while longer. She's naturally relieved when she runs into everyone else (actually flying) but she goes immaterial and fades through the dirt as they approach the camp. Truth is... Echolalia CAN be stealthy! She just really hates it. Echolalia COULD open up a giant chasm and then slam it back shut on any number of soldiers and thanks to Clarine's map, she's considering it! But Roy, ever the sweetie, convinces her not to. But she's mad. She's really mad about people kidnapping Fae. And it's good, she thinks, that Roy reminded her that a true martial arts hero does not crush the armies with the power of the earth. They do everything they can to avoid fighting them directly and teach them the value of a humble life so they spread the teachings in their every day life and devote themselves to Ran and such. She'll give everybody in this world a pamphlet if she has to. She made MORE of them and drew the pictures HERSELF. Fae...We're getting close. It might get real noisy. Ground's gonna shake. But Flamel's here, Mia's here, your mom's here... Um. Clarine is here. You remember Clarine, right? So let's, um, play a game. Have you ever heard of 'I Spy'? 'Well I Spy... With My Little Eye... Something that begins with D. Then you guess!' Echolalia is going to have toat least get some sight of the camp to get a feel for where the pegasi are so she pokes her little head of the dirt like a radish before popping back down once she's got a good idea of where to aim the quake. Quakes are, by their nature, a little imprecise but the shaking starts--just as Mia requested--around the pegasi near the north wall. The quake starts as a tiny rumble before gradually going up the richter scale. She's not trying to hurt any of the pegasi--just spook them to cause some chaos in the camp. This is less due to ethics, but--you know. Pegasi. And she can always push it harder. 'We're gonna get your stone back too, don't worry, okay? That shaking is me if you feel it... Do you feel it?'
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine is, frankly, feeling a little mixed about this. A chance to apply her greatest talents directly is welcome, but with Fae in danger she struggled to really settle into the flow of the hunt.     <J-IC-Scene> Madeleine Cadrasteia says, "Larum should probably go with the prince, to lend credence to his story. Flamel, think the two of us can sneak them into the command tent?"     <J-IC-Scene> Flamel Parsons says, "As for sneaking into the command tent, well -- you read my mind! Ha ha."     With the basics of a plan settled on, Madeleine turns to Myrddin with a thoughtful look. "Prince Myrddin... would you mind if I carried you? We could keep a better pace."     Once the prince's assent is secured, she scoops him up with both arms and nods to Larum. "Looks like Flamel is going in first, but I can't quite turn invisible. We should wait for Mia and Echo's distraction before making our move and catching up with Agent Parsons at the command tent."     Ascending the steep earthworks is light work for Madeleine - even with her hands occupied, a casual disregard for gravity's usual effects on physical bodies does wonders for her balance. At several points she switchbacks along the length of the wall in ways that would be difficult to impossible for anyone else to manage while carrying an entire other person. She waits just shy of the peak of the wall for Larum to catch up, then holds position in silence until the dragons get to their noisy work. Between the guards' attentions dulled by Flamel's influence, Madeleine's ability to stay unseen, and Larum's own skills, the trio should be able to keep out of sight as they crest the wall.     After regrouping with Flamel, Madeleine sticks close to the agent, slinking past the stables and hopping the makeshift pasture fence. Rather than chance the main road through the camp, however, she sticks close to the river, cutting through the supply areas and toward the command tent with prince and spy in tow. As she breaks from Flamel's path, she whispers to him, "We should enter the command tent at the same time. I'll wait for your signal, just... ping my brain or something." The next stage of the plan established-ish, Madeleine lurks near the generals' tents with Myrddin (deposited now on foot) and Larum. At Flamel's signal - or, failing that, when she hears Flamel introduce himself to the general as the acolyte of a vague but menacing order - she'll enter the tent with Perceval's best friend and that friend's protector, hoping to make a case against Bern...
Desire Stars	"Determined kid," notes Kamen Rider Geats, prone and sweeping slowly with the Magnum Shooter, taking in the scope of the earthen wall.     "I hope she's okay..." Kamen Rider Na-Go clutches at the Beat Axe in worry, stealing a glance from behind the cover of a tree.     "Igrene," says Geats, looking over his shoulder. "Can you fight?" It's his way of asking how she's feeling after her breakneck pace in catching up.     After the discussion on their objectives and the map helpfully brought by Clarine:     "Wow! That's a huge help..." Na-Go beams, huddling close to see the map.     "No kidding," agrees Geats, standing up from his spot to come take a look too. "Let's see."     "The horses--especially the flying ones--would be my first choice of what to sabotage if we want to keep them from pursuing us. If we want to be extra sure, I'd mess with the wagons, too. Moving an army is expensive. The problem is... the regular horses are in a really inconvenient spot." Their pasture borders the river on one side and is all the way at the edge of the camp, meaning that even if someone managed to get there and turn them loose, there'd be two contingents of soldiers easily able to see them leave. Would it be a good idea to light some fires around the stables, or the pegasi?     "That's what I was thinking, too. It'd scare the horses and cause a lot of wasted time chasing them down. In that case... Na-Go."     "Huh?"     "Stick with Rutger. If she has to make that fighting retreat, use your music to give her an advantage."     "What're you gonna do, then?"     "I'm gonna handle those wagons. Just so the rest of you know, it's not gonna be subtle. I'll wait till the horses are loose before I start in on the wagons."     With that, Na-Go sticks close to Rutger, giving her a little nod.     Geats, meanwhile, secures a vantage point in the treeline by way of nimble acrobatics. A run up the tree trunk, a push off of it to sail backwards through the air, an extension of his beam rifle to catch the sturdy limb of the neighboring tree. He swings low, letting his momentum carry him one rung higher up the tree, where he straddles a branch and aims down the scope.     When the camp's horses are set loose, he begins sabotaging wagons by aiming at the axles through the spokes of the wheels and even through the beds, lances of red streaking from on high to snap whatever parts of the suspension he can.
Dysnomia	Dysnomia is in the air almost the very moment Igrene can confirm the whole story. And she stays there. Watching from above, over the vastness of the desert, it seemed almost impossible to track them down...Where to even start?     Between Lilian and Sophia's hunches--I should be able to do this myself-- Dysnomia picked out a little torn piece of cloth amidst the dunes, only to swoop down and take it up in her hands. "We have her trail." Dysnomia's psychic broadcast, came through to Roy, Echo, Marcus, Sophia and Igrene. "I repeat, we have her trail. I'll need help following it."     "This operation needs to be clean. No experiments. No stretching your abilities. Do what you know you can." Dysnomia demeanor is dead serious, as they arrive to Fae, a grim set to her soldiers rarely seen, by all but maybe Echolalia. "Echolalia and I will be creating a diversion. I advise anyone whose tendencies are likewise loud and unsubtle to attempt the same. Disguise it as a natural phenomena if you can..."     I won't fail her. Her hand clenched into a fist. I WON'T fail her.     Dysnomia's eyes dart to Clarine, her mouth tearing into a scowl, admonation already half-spat--     --Clarine slammed down the map in front of them--     Momentarily, her mouth hung open, like a fish. Dysnomia's expression tore in a grimace. "...Good job. I suppose." She grumbled, pouring over the map. "This is excellent intel." Dysnomia shared a long look with Echolalia, a brief psychic communique passing between them. She nodded, sharply.     Unspoken by Dysnomia, initially, was the problem of the approach. She wasn't about to swoop over, breathing plasma onto the camp--too obvious. Perhaps more importantly, too DRACONIC. This left her no choice but to hope for an opening in the walls for her to jump in...     "You are safe and protected, after all. You have more than earned a little nap. Come, come, and rest your heads..."     ...An opening that Trudy was was all too willing to provide. "Well done." Her voice sounded, crisp, in the witch's head. "Can you focus on the guards to the east wall? I need cover."     Dysnomia took advantage of the waves of weariness Trudy was rolling over the camp, loping in from the side, a blurry line of smoke, hopping rapidly from where she was hidden in the woods, running straight into, and THROUGH, the earthen wall, slipping through with the effortless ease of dark matter phasing through bedrock.     In. Dysnomia passed through, rising from the wall like steam from a boiling pot. No longer than necessary. Put two fingers to her lips. Next stage...     She breathed. A thin line of plasma whispered through the air, onto a tent. More fire? No. Sparing Etrucian was an objective. Secondary objective. Below Fae. Still, the thought of looking into Marcus--and Roy's--eyes and saying she didn't bother trying? Slowed her down. It would take a while for the fire to grow big enough to really be noticeable...And she was intent on nurturing it to make sure it happened. ...Work fast. She bid the others, silently.
Odette Raskins	As far as getting into the camp goes, meanwhile, Odette's just going to have to get in there on foot. Luckily, with so many people running interference, she might actually have a shot getting in there without getting caught. She scopes out the area to see if anyone's actually looking her way before even daring to come out of the tree cover, peeking from under the brush to wait for her moment to get in. Once Dysnomia starts lighting her fires and Geats starts firing on the wagons, Odette makes a break for the wall, moving fast enough to just barely collide with it so she can flatten herself up against it that much faster. Where could Fae be, though? Her gut tells her that a high profile captive like her might not even be in one of those tents, but... Possibly a wagon, to get transported somewhere for who knows what. Swallowing lightly to force a lump back down her throat, she tries taking advantage of the higher key distractions to just start scurrying from tent to tent (or at least the ones that aren't on fire) to try getting to those wagons so she can peek inside them.
Lilian Rook	'Please. Where's Fae?!'     Every other thing that Lilian had been thinking had gone blank at that time. There were surely a million other vastly more important things to be thinking about. She remembers she had been discussing no less than the last ditch hope of Elibe. Recalling why that should have concerned her more like Fae only settles in a long time after, like a fading tinnitus ring.     . . . . . . . .     "...will be an enormous help. Extracting everyone myself would be prohibitively difficult." Lilian says to Roy. "I'll hope we have the means to maintain that staff if we're going to use it like this, but retrieving Fae is well worth the use."     'I'm fairly sure that he will'     "But on the off chance he doesn't." Lilian says, without followup. "A pursuit from both directions would put us under an enormous amount of pressure, I understand." she says to Roy. "If this plan falls through, I suggest that we'll have no choice but to defeat and capture Perceval while he's still in our grasp; retreating from here will only leave us pincered between two armies." She sighs. "Though we've rarely had the luxury of retreating so far."     'Hey!'     "What in god's name are you doing here?" Lilian nearly shouts. At least she didn't emphasize the 'you'. "This is all the help we can realistically . . ."     'Oh, they let me in.'     Lilian is still staring at the map when she blurts out "Beg pardon?" at the same time as Roy's 'What?'     Perhaps uncomfortably for Clarine's presence, or perhaps because it was always going to be a slightly risky thing to say, Lilian eventually moves on to the topic of the newly reorganized infiltration. "The dragonstone is something I can retrieve with more ease than an entire person, but I don't know how well anyone else here can manage the latter at all. I'll handle that task out of an abundance of caution."     Then she hastily moves on to minimize the gap. "While Larum and the Prince are in talks, and ideally before the wagons and horses are sabotagd, I'll be retrieving Fae herself, and leaving Parsons to secure the location of her stone. I'd like to be able to trust at least one other person to take over for him if he's unable to get near it, requires a diversion, or uncovers a higher priority task."     . . . . . . . .     For a change of pace, Lilian's futuresight only pertaining to what she wants for herself is something that focuses and elevates rather than merely restricting her options. Consumed with worry for Fae as she is, tracking down Perceval, anticipating the negotiation with 'Elffin', or intuiting a single thing about their escape, would be impossible by that means; but the swiftest, surest path to reach Fae is as clear as day. The places she'll stop and take cover, the boots that will march past, the exact timing of the rotation; even the idle chitchat of soldiers is deja vu on her first encounter.     Once she finds the right place, her intention is to leave a note with Fae, that reads 'count to five and don't make any noise', then abruptly show up one fivecount plus change after; she can't have Fae getting scared and she doesn't care to intuit whether she's strong enough to struggle if she did the classic spy thriller maneuver.
Marigold	"I got all of it," Clarine hmphs at Flamel, uncrossing her arms just to point at the Tom Clancy goggles on top of his head. "And that is the worst tiara I've ever seen. Remove it, commoner."      "There's a tent with a question mark on it," Roy says, challenging her gently. "Well, they wouldn't let me in everywhere. I'm still only a civilian," she huffs. But others' grudging praise puffs her back up. Grudging praise is the best kind, in her book.      As to overuse of his warp staff, Lucius nods soberly. "Should we liberate Etruria, I imagine they might find it in their hearts to give me another," he says, smiling. "Evacuating all of us is likely to damage it. I'll have to use it more gingerly from now on. But as you say, Lilian, it is a worthy use."      Rutger seems vaguely surprised to be supported by Odette and Neon both. It's hard to place the reason for that. She's in an army, right? Don't folks in an army support each other? "... Thanks," she murmurs while pocketing an injector, after a moment of visible hesitation.      "Hope they don't need us," she says to Neon a while later, while the others are heading out.      Myrddin does, indeed, assent to being carried- he holds out his arm to the side, expecting Madeleine to scoop him up princess-style. This guy. "Mind, we do not know for certain that Perceval is present," he says, eyes-closed face turning from Maddie over to Lilian too: "That you ensure I am taken prisoner should be enough."      Larum, obviously worried, refuses to be parted; thankfully she's agile enough to keep up with a laden Maddie, and experienced enough to keep her head down. "Are you sure they won't just kill you, Elffin?" "Fairly." "Fairly..."      "Igrene. Can you fight?"      "Of course I can," Igrene says irritably, before she catches Geats' real meaning, and smiles a small apology. "Oh. Yes. I can hit a man-sized target from this distance; I was going to remain with Lucius." When she sees him lining up a shot, though, she stands next to him, appraises it, nods, and draws her bow too.      'E-cho-la-li-a! You came! Fae was so scared... Thank you...' comes back the trembly, near-tears telepathic response. She brightens up a little as the mental contact goes on, though. 'Fae will be brave, just a little longer. Thank you... Fae's in a tent somewhere. D... um... Fae sees a dragon! Echo is being silly!'      Radish-Echo isn't spotted. The pegasi are as flighty as she hopes- the tremor makes them startle into the air, wings fluttering as accompaniment to Panicked Horse Noises. A couple of Ilian mercenaries, dressed similarly to your own pegasus riders, dash out of their tents to try and soothe them, but to no avail.      Still, the pegasi are sensibly hitched down to keep them from soaring away. If someone could cut their reins, they might be gone for good...
Marigold	Mia nurtures her fire slowly, and the horses nearest it start to panic- if she can get them still more scared they might swim the river, or if she can smash the fence she'd have an old-fashioned stampede. A couple of soldiers notice the flame catching on their tent; they stagger out, resisting Trudy's drowsiness only long enough to collapse at a safe distance. The sleeping spell otherwise mostly catches men already resting off their supper; its efficacy is evidenced by the occasional man on a dirt path falling over, and by the slumping-out shapes of now-limp snoring bodies against canvas walls.      The camp is really, really big, so Trudy can at most cover half its area with enough potency to knock a man out- but that's still half the camp that intruders now have more or less free rein to wander, as long as they don't make noises that would wake someone up.      Chad follows Flamel on Lilian's suggestion, though it might take a while to realize that he has. He snatches a large branch from a tree, hops into the river with the branch over his head, 'rides' it downstream, and then crawls up the bank and into the pasture, completely sopping wet. The squelch-squelch-squelch of his boots is only a little detrimental to his stealth; despite instructions, he clutches a wicked little dagger in his hand.      "If her stone isn't in the commander's tent, it'll be in the depot," he says, when he catches back up with the agent. "Got a way to find it?"      Odette finds that the wagons are full of... mundane supplies! Or at least, the kind of supplies this world calls 'mundane'. Some are full of shining weapons, axes and lances and all sorts of swords, while others contain neatly-stacked magical tomes with color-coded spines and mass-produced crystal-tipped staves. Surely it's okay for her to purloin some. The guards are about to have bigger things to worry about.      As the commander's tent group approaches, they're privy to snippets of conversation from inside- Flamel first, as he picks up currents of awareness about 'a shady Bernish guy' and 'the General'.      "... mean, she's not one of yours?"      ". . ."      "Sir, to be kind, what's the point of you if you won't answer me?"      "We do not know the girl. Give her to me."      "That's what scares me. I thought the dragons answered to Bern."      "I serve the Kingdom of Bern."      "Yes, yes, I'm quite aware. But..."      If anyone peeks inside, they can see a crisp-looking blonde man- god, he looks like a fully-baked Klein; they just grow them like that here- hunched over a table, clearly displeased in talking to a red-robed figure over a tactics table. The latter doesn't look like Ain, the 'un-man' from the Western Isles, but he does dress and posture just like him.      "Ah. That might be quite bad," Myrddin muses gently. Larum is more outwardly nervous. "That's not one of those 'things', is it? If we pick a fight here..."      When Lilian materializes before a note-clutching, cheeks-puffed Fae, the poor tear-streaked girl has to put her chubby little hands over her own mouth to stop from making a noise. She's in what amounts to a well-furnished cage within the small prisoner tent next to the commander's; the canvas is mostly for privacy, the iron bars are doing the real holding. It's not outside Lilian's ability to extract her from, but doing it quietly...      "Fae's sorry. She's so, so sorry. You really came back for Fae... she won't do it ever again... auuuu..." the poor girl murmur-whines, just quietly enough to hear.
Echolalia	''Echo is being silly!'' The radish echo moves through the earth. Best to get to those pegasi and see about causing more trouble. But if she ''cuts'' the rope, wouldn't that alert people there's something else going on? Hm. She'll have to think about how to properly deal with the rope as she travels. 'True, Echo can't help it. She's a silly dragon! But you're doing great. I can feel your bravery all the way over here. Do you see... See someone who begins with L? I have it on good authority that someone who begins with L should be near or by you right now.' She knows from Odette's own report it isn't someone who starts with O! 'there's gonna be another shake here in a moment.' She adds. Reins are not usually made out of leather--she can't just will that to do what she wants. Her skin shifts colors to match the local dirt, and a darker green, like one might expect from a shrub or bush as she pushes up out of the earth again. She doesn't go for a wide swipe, instead using a claw to carefully shred the reins, trying to sneakily free the pegasi. Make it look like a wild animal. That's the best she can think of while still being quiet and cutting down 'possible catching Echo time'. She normally would feel quite guilty--she knows how people can be about their horses, let alone their pegasi which is like horses but better, but Fae's trembling impression convinces her to go for it. Some things you just don't do. Once she cuts the reins, she hits with a stronger aftershock to really get those pegasi moving. 'Aggh... all those bravery rays you're emitting are making me feel braver too...!'
Dysnomia	It's old, old programming. Smooth operationing procedure come to Dysnomia like a bad habit. The stampede will impede resistance. Cause collatoral damage. Personell loss. Smoky nothing gripped the fence, began to flex it apart.     It's Echolalia's voice, cutting through the coms, that catches her. She staggers forward, briefly, leaning on the wall now. Breathing hard, through her teeth. Punching the fence--a tempered act of frustration.     A frustration she turned, toward the horses. Dysnomia summoned the memory of pain, of Bernish arrows piercing her back, of swords cleaving at her hands of...Of...     ...Of Durandal, edge gleaming in the hand of someone who should have been her friend. Of the bite of a weapon that dug into her flesh like a poison. Of metal that willed her dead. The everpresent knowledge that your allies held a upon at their side made to unmake you--that nearly HAD unmade you...     Harshly, she ripped into the horses' psyches, offering them, secondhand trauma, still fresh in the way her scar ached.     Her head turned, sharply, toward the center of the camp. She took half a step toward it. It can feel us. She reminded herself, even as she reminded the others, biting down hard on her lip. It'd feel me. A squirming helplessness churned in her gut. This, at least, she'd never had to deal with back home...     "...Get her back safe." She breathed an unbroadcasted hope, to her friends, to Ran, to whatever in the universe might be listening.
Odette Raskins	Weapons, tomes, weapons, staves... but no Fae! Muttering in quiet frustration to herself, Odette's about to leave the wagons alone when she realizes she's actually come across a pretty good find right here. She clibms right back up onto one of the wagons seconds after dropping off of it, taking stock of just how much STUFF is in that one alone. Roy's army could probably make real good use of all this, anyway. If the dragon slaying weapons are already starting to fall apart, what could that mean for everyone else's gear that isn't enchanted by lost magic? Heck, maybe she could even learn how some of these staves and tomes are supposed to work, if she brings them back for Lucius or Cecilia to identify. He did mention tomes were meant to be used by finishing the inscription, so maybe she'd have more luck with those than she has with the staff. There's so many options that Odette can't settle for just weapons or magical items, so... She goes for both. She straps a sword to one hip and an axe off the other, stacks a couple of those colorful tomes in her bag, and then piles a few of those staves and lances into a spare body bag for easier dragging around. She's not sure which of things would really be useful or particularly rare, anyway, so she might as well bring a little variety back! Hearing that Fae's in a tent and hasn't been found yet, though, gets her head back on track. Seeing as how the one Dysnomia set on fire earlier doesn't have Fae bursting out of it, it's easy enough to guess she isn't in there. And if Odette was a general with the mind to bring an important captive somewhere, which tent would she use...? The biggest tent that would probably be the general's tent, of course. Steeling herself for what very well might be a terrible idea, Odette starts slinking towards the commander's tent with all the subtlety of someone who's not used to being subtle or quiet at all for her job, taking complet advantage of the sleeping soldiers' current state to do so without having to worry about drawing their attention. She peeks inside to see if she can spot Fae or her stone in there, not even realizing that the dragon she's looking for is just a short distance away! Oh, they really do grow like that here. She swallows lightly at seeing the blonde man and the robed figure, trying to keep herself from being spotted even as she keeps peeking in. Fae's stone has to be around here somewhere...
Madeleine Cadrasteia	<J-IC-Scene> Madeleine Cadrasteia says, "I'm going to look for the stone in the depot."     Her new objective announced, Madeleine prowls away toward the riverside supply tents to do just that. With many of the guards asleep, and the remainder likely focused on cleaning up from supper, she should basically have the run of the place barring any unusually awake and sharp-eyed quartermasters. When it comes to finding, living creatures are Madeleine's specialty but she's good enough at forage to have at least competent searching-for-things ability. Right now she's looking for Fae's dragonstone by way of locked containers - it's unlikely for the Etrurians to have just tossed it in a sack on top of the potatoes or whatever.     She probably won't be able to *open* any strongboxes she finds, not without brute force (and commensurate noise), but if she can manage to swipe the keys from a slumbering quartermaster she'll try any locks she finds just in case. Having to haul an entire safe out of the camp with her would be awkward, compared to pocketing the stone itself.
Flamel Parsons	Flamel's clairvoyance pulses gently through the canvas of the tent. Pulse, pulse, pulse... The energy surges along the ground, invisible as he is, and perceives the nature of the conversation directly. He gets to work: Slipping into the outermost layers of Percival's mind, he slips in unedited, unaltered memories of Ain. Specifically, Ain absolutely laying waste to the conflictedly-named capital of the Western Aisles, killing Eliberian combatants, rebels, and civilians alike. For Percival, this might be anything from a flash of a vision to a suddenly-known recollection. But the message is clearer shortly:     "Don't speak. Don't move. They will lie. They will kidnap and steal. They will kill. They will do anything it takes to achieve power. But they didn't get everything. Myrddin lives, no matter what they tried to do."     Similar true, unaltered visual memories of Myrddin are offered too. "He's here. He's approaching. He let us know, because he wants to help fix all of this. But that man will kill everyone here, including him. General Percival, my name is Flamel Parsons, agent of a multinational conspiracy to set right what has gone wrong. And if you ask to see his Dragonstone, and hold onto it firmly for at least five seconds, I can promise you, that will mean Myrddin's return to Aquleia -- and more importantly, Myrddin walking into this camp soon. The *only* thing I'll ask is for you to find a way to hold that stone, just for a few seconds -- and don't let go."     There's all kinds of justifications. Most relevantly, Percival needing to know what sort of stone he should be giving up alongside giving up Fae. After all, surely she went out with all kinds of toys and such in her bag. She's a child! More tenuous is the idea that Flamel's efforts to convince Percival will work at all. He didn't edit the memories, they come with truly authentic emotions that stand up to any real mental scrutiny by conscious or unconscious defenses. But if Percival himself is compromised enough... No. He shakes his head clear. Cecilia wouldn't be that mistaken. And a close friendship like he had with Myrddin... it'll work. It'll definitely work.
Trudy Grimm	Where she is perched, Trudy frowns. The limitation of her ability-- meeting up with the size of the encampment itself-- is something she finds just a touch frustrating. When did they start making military forts such sprawling, wasteful affairs? When she finds that spreading herself thin enough to blanket the whole place won't work, she focuses it instead on the side Dysnomia requested, giving the infiltrators free reign to do as they please there so long as they're quiet about it.     Beneath Trudy, on the ground, the Black Knight shifts uneasily.     "No, no," she chides, "This isn't a place I'm sending you into. No, that would be quite disastrous."     "RRGH..."     "Ahaha, when did you get so funny? I'll have to remember that one~."
Lilian Rook	'Fae's sorry. She's so, so sorry. You really came back for Fae... she won't do it ever again... auuuu...'     Lilian crouches in silence, putting her finger to her lips, and trying not to look heartbroken with her eyes. Everything is going according to plan. Everything is getting better. "You're going to be fine. Okay?" Lilian whispers, and wonders why she feels more distressed right now than she did hours ago.     §Isn't she even more fortunate for the way she can 'put her bigness in here'? If she were inseperable from that power, they'd have done more. They'd have done so much worse to her. There isn't even a guard in the room. So just being able to put that side of her away when she wants; that's why she's safe. Does she know that? Is she frustrated? I think I am-- just a little.§     Iron is iron; it's not beyond Lilian's ability to cut, but it's not something she can do without a lot of force, and nor is it about to sound like a styrofoam roll when it hits the ground. She can't phase Fae out, even if she can get in. Corroding the bars wouldn't make them any quieter when they break. Even quiet magic would emit a ton of light. Lilian runs down her options in a second and a half, then in three more she decides that Fae is too young to make any unfortunate inferences.
Lilian Rook	"A couple of things are about to happen. I'm going to be doing them, so don't worry They might be a little bit startling, but they won't be scary. Do your very best not to make any noise, okay?" Lilian says, then straightening up and standing back. She--                 -----[stop]-----     Begins before she draws her sword; Fae would certainly understand what it's for, but imagining the expression she'd make if she didn't makes Lilian take the extra second. Bringing it to bear quickly, but taking her time with the slow movements-- the adjustment of posture, the tensing of muscles, the visual triple check, imagining the lines she intends to draw-- Lilian swings once, then twice.     Her sword passes through the small number of bars that she's certain she can cleanly sever at once, the whipcrack and series of rattling pings escaping at the speed of sound, and stopping well outside the camp when Lilian adjusts her frame of reference. The bar segments, cut at the top and bottom, halt with the lowest corner an inch above the floor, no longer necessary to 'exist' until Lilian touches them again.     She crouches, takes one in her hand, and quietly sets it to the side. Then another, and another, and then the last, spacing them centimeters apart so as not to make any lingering noise. Not wanting to push herself, she--                 -----[start]-----     --stoops down and steps into the caged area, holding out her hand for Fae to take, both waiting for her to signal her acknowledgement, and also letting §omething cool down a little. Because it'll cost her more when Fae takes her outstretched hand, Lilian lifts her up with one arm, resting against her chest and supported by her elbow, and--                 -----[stop]-----     stows her sword, bringing her other hand up to support Fae as well; nervously guaranteeing her presence without looking at her-- and starts walking. Displacing her is worse than a random soldier; easier on her arms, the cost of which is negligible. Lilian restricts herself to moving on the ground rather than using magic, perhaps more cautious than necessary about leaving traces that won't vanish into the bootprints of hundeds of military men. By the time she returns all the way outside, she's begun to grit her teeth without thinking about it. Her fingers twitch in a way that has nothing to do with muscular fatigue. She--                 -----[start]-----     --sets Fae down in the covered area they began from, on the verge of slightly too eagerly. Lilian waves her hands as if she were carrying a child-sized hot coal, catches herself, stops, and then kneels back down. "The others are getting your stone. Okay? If something happens, then I won't leave it behind. Just like I didn't leave you behind."
Trudy Grimm	> Trudy, can you get Rutger here with your shadows?" > Ahh, I certainly could send her that way. How about it, Rutger? > Do.     It's simple enough to do while maintaining the sleeping curse. All Trudy has to do is locate Rutger and get a good view of a shadow within the encampment. Given her perch in a tree, it's surprisingly easy to achieve both.     The shadow beneath Rutger deepens to a void-black pitch. Similarly, shadow cast by some crates near the command tent darken. The swordfighter finds herself dropping in, as if the ground were yanked out from under her feet. That velocity is maintained; launching her a few feet out the other end. The exact kind of burst-of-movement that a swordmaster could capitalize on in a heartbeat.
Marigold	Inside the commander's tent, Perceval looks like he might be having a heart attack- not that the being he's talking to notices, or cares. His teeth grit. He clenches his fist on the table. A droplet of sweat rolls down the side of his head.      "... but, the matter remains, sir, ah, as allies..."      "Yes?"      ('Whatever trickster ghost you are, get away from me!! Don't you dare speak Prince Myrddin's name. If you know my faults so well, you know how I wept at his grave. Isn't that sacred to even you?!')      "I, I feel you should be a bit more honest, about externalities, and implications, of..." T% But he can't push those visions of Flamel's- those truths- out of his mind. They resonate with the decent parts of his heart. The parts that simmer with resentment for his hostage-taking masters. The parts that felt like they were breaking when he rode against Cecilia; yearning to share in her idealism even as he cursed it. The parts that he's swallowed down for the past month whenever he saw anger in a humble villager's eyes.      . . .      "Look, just show me your dragonstone."      "Why?"      "I want to see how it's different from hers."      ". . ."      The human-shaped soulless thing reaches into its robe and pulls out a red crystal orb. Perceval grips it. He can't pull it away. He briefly strains to, and heroic human and soulless dragon look into each others' eyes while realizing this means betrayal, and--      ----      At the lightning-speed of magic, the transformation is spreading up the arm of the dragon-thing who will raze this entire camp.      Just a little bit faster than that, Durandal cuts through the whole tent and shears still-human elbow from draconic claw.      After that, it really isn't necessary for Rutger to impale the would-be-war-dragon through its skull and then scatter every ounce of its viscera along five different arcs with one-and-a-half motions. But she does anyway.      The canvas wall that separated Myrddin from Perceval is now confetti, and their reunion isn't going to be stopped by a light misting of black-ink gore. The former looks tenderly relaxed; the latter like he's seeing a ghost.      "Ah, my goodness... General, was that your voice I heard just then?"      "Prince?! So it is-- how can I know it's you?"      "And how am I to know it's you? Come closer. My eyes are old before their time."      "While you're with strange armed men?!"      "Perceval!" yells Larum, indignant. "That's really Myrddin! Get it through your thick head!"      "... And strange armed women?!"      Rutger visibly appraises whether she might have to kill this general guy too, but errs on 'no'. Instead she nods in the direction of Trudy's tree.
Marigold	By the time Echolalia is severing the reins of the pegasi to let them flutter free into the sky (they'll be back eventually) (their owners can hope), the camp is in a restrained chaos, only kept from boiling over into total havoc by the fact that half of it is magically asleep and its commander is too emotionally staggered to give orders. Shouted orders by lieutenants, conflicting distant cries of "fire!", "Cecilia!", and "earthquake!", all blur together over the whinnying of horses and the seismic thrum.      By now, under Mia's psychic assault and Echo's tremors, the horses have decided that plunging into the river is by far the better option. Etruria will have to catch them a good long ways downstream.      Sneaking around has largely outlived its purpose at this point. But not quite completely.      'Do you see... See someone who begins with L?'      'Ehehehe... Fae sees lady knight! Um, Lilian! Lilian's here to help Fae. Thank you, E-cho... helping Fae be less scared. Even if E-cho's silly, she's really nice.' Lilian sees a teary-wavery smile cross Fae's face while she rubs her eyes and nods.      "Don't worry Lilian. Fae can be good. She'll be quiet, even if it hurts." It won't hurt, but she doesn't know that. No time at all later, she breaks her promise- but only with an itty-bitty gasp, and then a restrained little giggle. "Wow, lady knight is a-""-aauuooh! Amazing!!" she says, 'teleported' between beginning and end.      Even though she's done nothing physically hard, Fae breathes heavily for a moment after Lilian puts her down. She rubs her face with her threadbare little dress's sleeves (the Etrurians cared for her decently, but why would they have children's clothes?), nods silently while sniffling, and then lunges back in to wrap her arms as far around Lilian's torso as they'll go. The texture of her little sobs is palpable through her breastplate.      "Thank you... nice to Fae... Fae messed a lot of things up. Stupid. Stupid... But you didn't forget about Fae, even though she was ba-ad... it's okay, even if you can't get my stone back..."      Just a little stumble, at the end. Too agonizingly sincere to remember to be cutesy.
Marigold	But they won't have to leave it behind.      Chad meets up with Madeleine and Odette at the little depot, just as he'd recommended, having slipped away with river-squidgy boots during the heartfelt reunion. It's a huge heap of parts and containers and bales as organized as a bunch of soldiers can manage; which is to say, 'not very'.      Chad points out a couple of small tents for rain-protecting perishable goods on the outskirts of the heap, though. "People put valuables indoors, even when it doesn't make sense," he says, without elaborating on how he knows. He eyes Odette's haul of weapons approvingly, though.      "I didn't take either of you for burglars," he says, while jimmying open a trio of chests with his knife just in the span of that sentence. Swsh-crack, swsh-crack, swsh-crack. First one: gold. Second one: bottled vulneraries. Third one: ceremonial Etrurian clothes. "Father says I shouldn't do things like this anymore. But it's war, so..."      It takes a minute to go through all of them; less if they can somehow narrow down the chests the stone might be in, or even less if Odette or Madeleine pick up on his technique and help. But one of them will get Fae's shimmering blue teardrop crystal in a bit.      By now, a small squad of Ilian mercenaries on the un-slept western side- grounded, sans their pegasi- have started to rally the local soldiers in absence of Etrurian command, and they look distinctly unhappy at the invaders who drove off their pegasi, with a very big mob of bad-to-kill gumbies backing up their spears. If there's anything else you need to do, do it now!
Madeleine Cadrasteia	"I've really got to learn my way around a lock," Madeleine grumbles. "Maybe you could teach me a thing or two when we're not so pressed for time. All I'm used to is warding miracles..." Hey, Maddie? It's probably better to not let on around the kid that you have a history of killing gods.     Either way, Madeleine has her knife out and is attempting to mimic Chad's method as best she can - what she lacks in know-how she can sometimes make up for with force or natural finesse, at least on the simpler locks. She leaves the real tricky stuff to Chad, which means the youth is probably the one who finds the dragonstone. Madeleine's on it in a flash, though: "Here, give me that and let's get out of here. Need a lift across the river, either of you two?"     The huntress makes her exit by 'hovering' (ignoring gravity, really) upriver, possibly with Odette and/or Chad in her arms, then circles wide away from the camp and back toward the Roy's position. Knowing that Fae's safe and *seeing* it are different things, and Madeleine's face lights up with relief when she spies the little dragon. "Fae!" she says, "We have your stone." She waits for the dragon to detach from Lilian before holding out the crystal for Fae to reclaim. "I'm glad you're safe."
Echolalia	''Thank you, E-cho...helping Fae be less scared. Even if E-cho's silly, she's really nice.'' ''When's...the next...supply drop? I'm so hungry... I can't move... I'm scared... It's so cold... I'm scared, sis... I'm scared, I'm scared...'' 'Aww...! That's what big sisters are for!' Echolalia sends back to Fae, unwilling to admit just how scared SHE was! 'Do whatever Lady Knight tells you to do okay? I'll be right there in a sec!' A tree bursts out of the ground and Echolalia jumps into it-- --and then vanishes from that point, to another tree closer to the rendevoux point, then to another tree that's right by it, stepping out from the last pine tree that Roy had been leaning against earlier, hobbling out and a flicker of relief crossing her features before she pushes it away to act as invincible and badass as ever. "See! Toldja! In a sec!" Echolalia beams in Fae's direction before throwing a wave towards LIlian. "Thanks Lilian!" She adds with just as much ease before she adds, "I'm sure we'll get the Stone back soon." She adds, though she really knows nothing about how the team's going about that but she can act like she does, easy!! ''Fae! We have your stone.'' "Just as planned! Nice job, Madeleine!" Echolalia says. Wow that was real convenient timing, she thinks.
Odette Raskins	Odette watches in wide-eyed, yet stone-faed awe as Rutger makes short work of the dragon before he can complete his transformation, still holding onto the edge of the camp's entrance in a white-knuckled grip. She's mostly quiet as Perceval and Myrddin have their little reunion, but anyone by the entrance might hear the EMT murmur something that rhyme with 'bog' as she's pulling away. Definitely not in there, so she needs to keep looking around to find-oh, Fae's with Lilian! There's a brief moment when Odette's about to rush over to join them, but she's convinced rather quickly just from the lack of haste on Fae's part that they'll both be fine, too. She does, however, pause to lean forward and stage-whisper-half-shout over towards them (and wobble a bit trying not to fall over with all her questionably obtained gear): "G.. Good work, Dame Commander Rook! I didn't see Fae's stone in the general's tent, but it's got to be somewhere around here. I'll keep looking around!" As luck would have it, Odette runs into Madeleine and Chad, and she greets the two with a quick salute of sorts  before looking towards the tents. "In there? Huh. I would've thought it'd be over..." She jerks a thumb back at the commander's tent, then sighs. "No luck in there, though... B-burglar?!" She quickly covers her mouth after that, then whispers in mild indignance while still makign sure she has a good hold on all that stuff she stole. "I-it's just... Field scavenging! Th-that's all. Not... Um. How're you doing that?" The pouting soon gives way to curiosity as she sees Chad just popping those chests open without a key or crowbar like she'd expect, briefly wondering if this world even has crowbars. The gold and the clothes get a close look, of course, but only for a moment as practicality takes over, and Odette goes for the vulneraries if neither Chad nor Madeleine claim them. "There's... I-it's never so straightforward in this type of place. Anyway, yeah. Let's see if it's hidden somewhere in here..." Joining Chad in going through the chests, Odette imitates his technique as best she can with a sword at first, then a scalpel after she nearly cuts herself trying to fit the sword's blade in. She almost doesn't believe it when she gets the first chest open, too, and she almost cheers in excitement at the discovery of Fae's crystal. Almost but not, since she does actually catch herself before she makes a loud noise this time around. "A-alright... L-let's regroup with the others. I-I think I hear more soldiers coming, and we've got Fae already. We should be okay to leave!" A beat, and then she looks over at Madeleine. "A.. Lift? W-wait, you don't mean-"" Madeleine picking her up, naturally, has her making a loud noise again. Good thing stealth isn't as necessary at this point anymore.
Dysnomia	When the crowds start to gather, the helmet of Dysnomia's suit closes up, masking her face. She avoids looking toward the command tent--that's not where their focus needs to be, and the longer they can keep it away, the better. She stays where she is, while the Etrurian troops and furious mercenaries rally.     ...But when arrows are loosed at her, she vanishes, leaving a trail of smoke through the wall. Still, she stands outside, watching, waiting for more soldiers to gather at the wall, to determinedly try to storm around it and--     --An arrow catches her in the shoulder, and she hisses, clutching at it. And then, back she goes, moving into the forest in long, loping bounds far, far slower than the Lycian League had seen her move. That's right, I scattered your horses. Follow me. Anything, just for a little more time. Just for a few more moments. Just for....     ...They weren't behind her anymore.     Dysnomia wasn't sure whether they'd given up, or lost her, or caught onto what she'd really been doing. For a long moment, she just stood there. Eventually, she meandered back.     She took a circuitous route back. For operational security, she lied to herself. Eventually, the Lycian camp faded back into view, and Dysnomia's rapid, ethereal dash slowed to a walk.     The corner of her mouth twitched upward, as she saw Fae. "...You're safe." I'm sorry. Did they hurt you? I'm sorry. You made us worry so much! I'm sorry. The words got stuck in her throat. "I'm..." Her voice quavered with relief. "...Glad."
Trudy Grimm	Trudy has an excellent, if distant, view of what goes on once Rutger has been transported right into the Etrurian encampment. Having been one of the first people to see Rutger herself in action, Trudy thinks about how that bladework never ceases to impress. Glancing down at the Black Knight, she quips, "You might do with learning a thing or two about finesse."     "NNGH..."     "Not /everything/ can be solved with brute strength-- And no, I don't want to hear 'that means you aren't using enough'. Come, come, get me down from here."     The Black Knight reaches up, grasping the hilt of his sword now with both hands.     "Not like that!"     He pauses, then reaches up to provide his palm as a step for the witch to hop onto, then lowers her to the forest floor.     "I think now is a good time to reconvene with our comrades, no?" With a flicker of her fingers, she dismisses the runic circle and reclaims the resources spent on maintaining its effect, though it's unlikely many of the men will just snap awake immediately. Like many nappers, they'll probably filter back to wakefulness on their own time.     With the immense Black Knight following, the witch approaches the camp as if she were the place's assigned inspector.
Flamel Parsons	Flamel, detecting a hint of incredulous ultraviolence, is rushing through the canvas. He cannot even come close to matching Rutger's speed, she was probably moving faster than Flamel could ever manage long before he took his first step. It gives him just enough time to walk in on the severed arm. "Oh!" He says, before a blade plunges into the dragon's head and leaves Flamel staring at some of the only brain damage he really can't fix. "Oh."     "Hi! Like I said: I'm Flamel Parsons, agent of a vast international conspiracy. I'm currently working on some regime changes!" He beams! "For example, I'd like to bring Prince Myrddin to Aquleia and depose the coup leaders until his father's recovery! So, *please* find your most loyal-to-Etruria men and tell them Cecilia is in the way -- we really want as many Etrurians to get through this as we can, if anyone's going to stand a chance against Bern!"     His beaming smile doesn't falter. "Also, I think you should give Prince Myrddin a hug or something, that'll help offset both of your traumatic outcomes from witnessing that ultra-decapitation. Speaking of which," He pulls out a glass case, quickly telekinetically scooping the pieces up before they start dissolving as other dragons have. "Just gonna... There. Okay, I need to get out of here and help a very tiny child get back to some friends before the mercs arrive -- Myrddin, going or staying? I've gotta run!"     Yes, now's a good time to get out. Freshly invisible Flamel Parsons takes a dash out of the tent, with hope in his heart that this was enough to get through this particular political and tactical tangle!
Lilian Rook	'Don't worry Lilian. Fae can be good. She'll be quiet, even if it hurts.'     Lilian wants to stop and fall all over herself reassuring Fae that she'd never do anything to hurt her. Then it processes that Fae didn't say it like that, so all she does is flinch very slightly.     'Wow, lady knight is a-'                 -----[stop]-----     "Well, she's still-- no, I suppose she's only in high spirits now." Lilian sighs, allowing herself a conflicted private smile. "I really hope she expected me to come. I did promise her."                 -----[start]-----     '-aauuooh! Amazing!!'     "Thank you. You're amazing for having gotten all the way here, Fae, and for waiting for us all on your own."     'Fae messed a lot of things up. Stupid. Stupid... But you didn't forget about Fae, even though she was ba-ad...'     Lilian lets out the half-breath she was holding in reserve. Fae isn't so tiny that she feels the need to get down to her level, and not so habitual in her cuteness besides. "You did mess up. This wasn't a good idea. But I'm not mad, and I wouldn't leave you behind." Lilian rests her hands on the girl's shoulders, gently pulling her within arm's reach, and says, "I know. Everyone loves you, but that village is such a small place. Even though they do their best to make you happy, the one thing they can't give you eventually feels bigger than everything else, and then you feel even worse for doing it. You waited so much more patiently than me, Fae."     'it's okay, even if you can't get my stone back...'     "I'm not going to let you be punished. You don't deserve to be." Lilian says, barely above a murmur. "This was always going to happen one day. It had to. It's not fair for you to lose something precious just because it did. So you're not going to lose it, okay? I promise."
Marigold	'Warding miracles' takes a second for Chad to (mis)understand. "Oh," he says, suddenly more warmly-at-ease around Madeleine than before. Shh-clnk, another chest. "Father Lucius does those too. Only I don't think he likes it if you call them 'miracles'."      Popping the lid reveals Fae's dragonstone, and after shiftily appraising Odette's soggy demeanor for a second, Chad foists the dragonstone into her hands. "Yeah. Hold this. Let's go."      - - - -      BGM: https://youtu.be/mFybq3zbSzk      Lilian can be completely sure now Fae has no great strength in this form at all, because Fae squeezes her as hard as her trembling little body can, and it feels like nothing at all. Her hot cheek squishes against Lilian's cool metal, and she shudders while nodding, dragging it up and down.      "Lilian's ri-hi-ght... everyone was so nice to Fae... always, always so nice. And being nice made Fae hurt worse... everyone goes away. Everyone. Fae was really dumb. Tha-aank you, for not punishing Fae... but Fae wanted so bad to stay. Fae loves you."      She looks up with absolutely tear-bleary-eyes at Igrene and Echo and Mia, and sticks out an arm to invite them into a hug with Lilian too, hastily nodding her wordless invitation. 'Big sister E-cho... Fae's never had one like that...'      Igrene squeezes her so so so tightly, and sighs out years' worth of stress, and then lamely pets Fae's pink hair. "Ohhh, Fae..." she says, almost like she's going to scold. "... I'm just glad you're safe."      When in contact with as many people as possible, she manages to murmur: "Thank you... Fae's so happy, too. You didn't leave forever..."      As that's finally winding down, she takes the dragonstone from Odette's hands and gives the EMT a biiig hug too, complete with adorably effusive thanks. But she isn't too hurried about that. <3
Marigold	- - - -      Down at the command tent's shredded remains, Knight-General Perceval's army-turned-mob starts to rise up behind him without his word. Prince Myrddin just steps forward, takes his hands, interlaces his delicate fingers with those black gauntlets, and looks up into the knight's face.      "It's me," those who linger long enough might hear him say. "Perceval. Please. Of everyone, it pained me the most that I could not tell you. This lie, this wound, that I had to deal you... if you care for me, now let it heal."      Perceval's face contains oceans of agony and oceans of relief. His mouth opens to answer, but he can't find the words; he hesitates but can't bear to pull away. Flamel is easier to address.      "I- I do believe you, Prince. I'm... not strong enough not to. But, depose the coup... 'rally my men'... it's too late. Please, it's too late. King Mordred is nearly as good to them dead. It's a miracle Cecilia didn't force their hand alone. What you're saying is-- I---"      "Shhh. Perceval. We'll speak more of this later. As your Prince, my only command is that you not let go of my hand." "I... alright. Myrddin."      Myrddin half-twists around to look back at Flamel. His face is so serene. His eyes, open, are dull, only darkly-seeing. But he smiles with them. "Go. I'll be alright. Go, now."      He raises his voice, but that last word is barely audible. The glare of the encroaching wave of steel is washing them out. The roar of the mob as it washes past them submerges their words.      - - - -      Evac feels like a near-formality. The horses and pegasi being driven off means pursuit will be slow. Still, Lucius touches each person one-by-one- but Fae and Igrene together, so they won't have to be separated for even a moment- to blip-pillar-of-light teleport them over the hills. A moment of lightness, and then you're there, back in the main camp a half-mile away.      They'll have to pack up and move away from there, too- the caravan is already loaded- but you can relax in one of the wagons, stretch your legs, maybe watch Fae drift off for an absolutely exhausted nap with Igrene, or get a bite to eat. Lucius and Roy, even though they barely did anything, look exhausted too. The priest beams at the lordling and Odette just as much as his own child, though. He's proud of them.
Marigold	'Warding miracles' takes a second for Chad to (mis)understand. "Oh," he says, suddenly more warmly-at-ease around Madeleine than before. Shh-clnk, another chest. "Father Lucius does those too. Only I don't think he likes it if you call them 'miracles'."      Popping the lid reveals Fae's dragonstone, and after shiftily appraising Odette's soggy demeanor for a second, Chad foists the dragonstone into her hands. "Yeah. Hold this. Let's go."      - - - -      BGM: https://youtu.be/mFybq3zbSzk      Lilian can be completely sure now Fae has no great strength in this form at all, because Fae squeezes her as hard as her trembling little body can, and it feels like nothing at all. Her hot cheek squishes against Lilian's cool metal, and she shudders while nodding, dragging it up and down.      "Lilian's ri-hi-ght... everyone was so nice to Fae... always, always so nice. And being nice made Fae hurt worse... everyone goes away. Everyone. Fae was really dumb. Tha-aank you, for not punishing Fae... but Fae wanted so bad to stay. Fae loves you."      She looks up with absolutely tear-bleary-eyes at Igrene and Echo and Mia, and sticks out an arm to invite them into a hug with Lilian too, hastily nodding her wordless invitation. 'Big sister E-cho... Fae's never had one like that...'      Igrene squeezes her so so so tightly, and sighs out years' worth of stress, and then lamely pets Fae's pink hair. "Ohhh, Fae..." she says, almost like she's going to scold. "... I'm just glad you're safe."      When in contact with as many people as possible, she manages to murmur: "Thank you... Fae's so happy, too. You didn't leave forever..."      As that's finally winding down, she takes the dragonstone from Odette's hands and gives the EMT a biiig hug too, complete with adorably effusive thanks. But she isn't too hurried about that. <3
Marigold	- - - -      Down at the command tent's shredded remains, Knight-General Perceval's army-turned-mob starts to rise up behind him without his word. Prince Myrddin just steps forward, takes his hands, interlaces his delicate fingers with those black gauntlets, and looks up into the knight's face.      "It's me," those who linger long enough might hear him say. "Perceval. Please. Of everyone, it pained me the most that I could not tell you. This lie, this wound, that I had to deal you... if you care for me, now let it heal."      Perceval's face contains oceans of agony and oceans of relief. His mouth opens to answer, but he can't find the words; he hesitates but can't bear to pull away. Flamel is easier to address.      "I- I do believe you, Prince. I'm... not strong enough not to. But, depose the coup... 'rally my men'... it's too late. Please, it's too late. King Mordred is nearly as good to them dead. It's a miracle Cecilia didn't force their hand alone. What you're saying is-- I---"      "Shhh. Perceval. We'll speak more of this later. As your Prince, my only command is that you not let go of my hand." "I... alright. Myrddin."      Myrddin half-twists around to look back at Flamel. His face is so serene. His eyes, open, are dull, only darkly-seeing. But he smiles with them. "Go. I'll be alright. Go, now."      He raises his voice, but that last word is barely audible. The glare of the encroaching wave of steel is washing them out. The roar of the mob as it washes past them submerges their words.      - - - -      Evac feels like a near-formality. The horses and pegasi being driven off means pursuit will be slow. Still, Lucius touches each person one-by-one- but Fae and Igrene together, so they won't have to be separated for even a moment- to blip-pillar-of-light teleport them over the hills. A moment of lightness, and then you're there, back in the main camp a half-mile away.      They'll have to pack up and move away from there, too- the caravan is already loaded- but you can relax in one of the wagons, stretch your legs, maybe watch Fae drift off for an absolutely exhausted nap with Igrene, or get a bite to eat. Lucius and Roy, even though they barely did anything, look exhausted too. The priest beams at the lordling and Odette just as much as his own child, though. He's proud of them.