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Marigold	The Ilian Mid-lands      At a warpgate among the pines.      The Multiversal path here is tangled, as with many places in this world. You meet Shanna with her pegasus in a disused Warpgate hub; practically just a warehouse defined by empty pallets, scuffed metal, and peeling paint, built around a handful of shimmering rips-in-the-world and with its coordinates engraved into a prominent metal sign.      "You made it!!" Shanna says, almost waving with the hand that holds her spear before catching herself and shifting it over. "Come on! Roy's just been talking with a messenger, I think from Etruria. This place is giving me the creeps."      She leads the way- holding her loyal steed's reins- through a Warpgate leading to a slightly-oily jungle that might be either terrestrial or alien. Then it's a five-minute walk along a trail she's marked by hacking trees with her spear to another warpgate, this one leading to a sun-baked barren of salt.      Two more minutes of walking- "I really don't like it here either," Shanna complains, scrunching her eyes against the stinging salty breeze- and at last you come to one more Warpgate; this one has marks around it, like people from the other side have been scraping salt off the ground.      "Lord Roy! We made it!" she shouts while stepping through the last rift with pegasus behind her, as if the short jaunt were especially treacherous. "Oh! Good work, Shanna," comes back slightly muffled by the spatial distortion...      Stepping through yourselves, you arrive in a small clearing in a pine-tree taiga. The salt-desert Warpgate constantly exhales hot air, crinkling on contact with the crisp atmosphere and turning the fine-grained gritty snowfall into dew for fifteen feet around. Further out, the light dusting of snow puts an iridescent glitter on slightly-unfamiliar trees and needly leaf litter.      It ought to be nearly the dead heat of summer, but still it feels nippingly brisk on bare skin the moment you step outside the Warpgate's radiated warmth. How does Shanna survive it dressed like that?      Lugh, the little anima mage, warms Roy with a conjured flame in his palm, giving the lord light enough to read a letter by. An Etrurian courier, lightly armored, is just leaving the way you came with a nod. Thea, Shanna's older sister, sits atop her own pegasus behind Roy too; Lilina the little lady of Ostia clutches additional papers (reports?), and Sophia accompanies maybe for her danger-sense or maybe just to get off that accursed boat.      Immediately there's an overflowing, with people crowding around to varying degrees:      "Oh! Petra...! Mia...!"      "Mr. Parsons! I've kept up on my meditation!"      "You're that lady from the device, aren't you? It's good to see you!"      "Dame Commander. That's reassuring."      "Thea! Can't you sound a little more happy?"      "I am happy?"      "Oh, and Odette! You've got to tell Lucius how your practice is going!"      "It's good to see you all again," Roy rounds out the hubbub with, though he's clearly a little embarrassed to be adding to it. "Most of our army is still unpacking and assembling the wagons. Thea said the Ilian village near here looks too small to fully supply us, but I'll hope they can sell us the essentials. Preserved fruits and vegetables, horse feed..."
Marigold	He rolls up the letter and stuffs it in his pocket with a teenagerly obliviousness to the value of good stationery. "There's also intelligence from Ilia. General Cecilia hasn't landed yet, but..." "It's pretty clear what she'll want us to do," Lilina says, and the general's two pupils share a nod.      This warpgate has been at least lightly traveled: a subtle footpath mats down the leaf-litter and scraggly grass, leading down the hill. The group starts moving that way; it must be where the village is.      BGM: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gxlXcchmiUU
Nobunaga	Amidst the many familiar faces is someone new to these lands: An obviously short red-eyed woman with long black hair, wearing an Imperial-era Japanese military uniform in black, red, and gold, with a great crimson cape. For the connect-the-dots style traversal through various gates, she's been pretty much quiet and near the back of the group. Now, as folks fan out to meet up with those that call out to them, Nobunaga halts just outside the radiant warmth of the salt-desert gate, right where the chill in the air can be felt.     After a moment, she takes in a breath and lets it out in a misty cloud.     A young man announces the plans; she zeros in on Roy immediately with confident approach, "Are you certain that the villagers will work with your forces?" Coming to a stop, the Japanese general props a hand on her hip, "If not, then a little recon-- an advance party going ahead-- might save you some trouble."     Lifting her other hand, Nobunaga offers, "Rather than moving an army on the town and freaking everyone out; it might be better to have that advance group pick up what you need and have it delivered to a temporary camp. At least then if they report your position you'll have time to pack up and relocate."     After a pause, she shifts her gesturing hand to rest on her own breastbone, "Nobunaga, by the way. Happy to be of assistance."
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine's dressed for the weather, at least more than she usually is. Wool leggings replace vinyl, and today's leather jacket has a fur lining and a hood. This makes the trek through the salt flats, though brief, quite uncomfortable. The huntress relaxes automatically on emerging through into the chilly pine forest. Almost smells like home.     She greets Roy with a nod. "Hope you're keeping warm enough. What've we got to trade for provisions? Will they take our coin, or are we bartering?"     On the walk down to the village Madeleine tries to take point, hustling a short way ahead to make sure the path is safe but slowing her pace to emerge from the woods just as the main group catches up with her. Her gaze turns skyward, watching for Ilian pegasi or Bernish wyverns as she clears the woods.
Audrey Basque	Audrey arrives with Petra and Angela!     Possibly for reasons. Probably for reasons.     Her outfit of choice here is the one she'd gotten from here in the first place; a fancy white blouse, long-sleeved, and a long dark blue skirt, a bit past her knees, with black tights and dark brown leather boots. A dark blue cloak, sparkling and shimmering on the inside with stars and constellations, though less so in broad daylight, completes the outfit. Her dark brown hair isn't drilled up, but left to flow, contrasting her gold-and-blue eyes as it ever does.     Arriving to be greeted by a pegasus (knight) means that she spends most of the time spent trekking from gate to gate observing, or asking questions about, the pegasus, stopping just shy of asking if she might ride it (though the thought of asking is definitely in there).     When they arrive, and the weather turns a bit colder, she grabs her thick cloak by the sides and crosses her arms to half-close it upfront, just to keep a bit more of the warmth in.     She recognizes Lugh and Roy, but hadn't really spoken all that much to either when she'd met them! It's going to be a process to learn everyone's names and roles, but since she'd committed to helping Petra and Angela here, it was one she was invested in.     The sight of Lugh and his flame, and the fact he's by Roy, conveniently puts the two faces she knows together, and Audrey, being the social wallflower she tends to be, gravitates towards them (and their fire) a bit.     "If you need help moving supplies from that village, I'll be happy to assist. Bottomless bags, weight reduction. It'll be one less hassle on your list."
Dysnomia	"You probably wouldn't like my world much either," Dysnomia commiserates with Shanna. "It's entirely covered in an ocean of..." She pauses just before she says 'methane,' searching for another word that wouldn't play hell in translation. "...A supercool liquid. People can't even go outside without protection, or they'll freeze to death in moments." She doesn't seem too fussed by the salt desert, though. "I like worlds where people can go outside more. Less empty." A beat. "Is that it...?"     Turns out, it was. She offers Sofia a small smile as the tide of Eliben enthusiasm washed over her. It was hard not to get caught up in the moment. I never would have thought soldiers could feel this way. Something about that touched something sensitive, and she flinched away from the thought, distracting herself from it by turning to Sofia.     "It's been a while. Hanging on?" Her greeting was somewhat awkward, stiff. Eager to cross, but struggling to the a gap without quite understanding the mechanisms of the bridge. "I hope Fae hasn't given you too much trouble."     Dysnomia listens to Roy and Lilina. "You're her students," she says, finally, walking along with them. "If anyone can anticipate her plans, it'd be you."     "How dire is the intel." There were scarce few pleasant surprises in Elibe, when it came to things like this.
Flamel Parsons	Flamel is *beaming* when he sees Lugh! "Good, good good!" He calls out, as he wanders from the gate with a wide smile. "It's important to keep up, for a junior psy-cadet or anyone else! And I hope you've been working hard on keeping spirits high too! I've got all kinds of cool new techniques to teach you!"     There isn't really a good middleground for who he is. His regular blazer works mostly, but it's not *quite* yet cold enough for his usual winter-wear: A heavy jacket whose slightly-furred hood hides a terrifying gleam from his sunglasses that obfuscates his face. So, it's regular-mode Flamel!     In any case, he settles down with Lugh, regaling him with all the new psychic tricks he plans to teach him (and plenty of the spycraft tricks that will be added to all that) which just so happen to double as helpful mental tools for a growing youngster to navigate the world.     Nobunaga's suggestion gets a hand-raise. "A shopping trip! We've done enough of those that it's our standard procedure. Couple of us go into town and put in the big orders for everyone. I can mind-read everyone to see what the biggest needs are, if you want!" So casual. "Though that won't be for a while, since folks are still just setting up camp and all." He's so happy to rejoin the camp, now!
Desire Stars	You made it!!     "Of course!" Neon beams at Shanna. Much like Shanna herself, Neon finds it hard to let the greater context of meeting here bring her down. All the time spent traveling together, on and off the road, not to mention fighting together, has given her a sense of closeness to the army--especially to Shanna, whose level of experience is similar. This is meeting to continue a defensive war, yes, but it's also reuniting with a friend after time apart. Neon runs up and gives her a quick hug, followed by a lingering squeeze that communicates her gladness that Shanna is here to meet them at all. Her DGP-branded windbreaker crinkles audibly with both gestures. "It's so good to see you again." This place is giving me the creeps.     "Oh!" Neon allows herself a slightly self-conscious chuckle, the nods and falls in line. I really don't like it here either.     "It's a bit much for us," says Ace of the salt flats. "But there might be living things that adapted to live here over a really long time. On a smaller scale, I think there's something to learn there, about what time and pressure can equip you to survive."     Past the final gate, Neon gives a cheery wave to Roy and Ace offers him a casual two-finger salute. It's pretty clear what she'll want us to do.     "Any chance I can lay eyes on that report?"
Angela	Angela has come along as well, and has even dragged Roland along because she intends to throw him into this mess. Possibly with Gebura, even, since she might as well be useful and there's only one thing she's particularly decent at in Angela's mind (Angela has a very low opinion of Gebura relative to The City for various reasons) but she certainly respects her ability to break things, kill people, and generally cause trouble for people. Sometimes it's useful to have that skill, but Angela generally doesn't put much stock in it. "Since I have to stay close to Petra, your job today is to keep us from getting murdered." Angela says. Roland, who is exceptionally skeptical that this could be an opportunity for him, gives a few small nods while taking note of Roy, whom he has been informed of, and Shanna, and--is that a kid?? Lugh looks younger than he did when he started out, Roland thinks, but he supposes that's war for ya. Angela is making sure to stay close to Petra. She has been more cautious than normal as of late. She has been 'encouraged' to dress up for the venture, though Roland is just in his basic uniform. This time, at least. Angela herself is wearing a black coat with red inner lining, a buttoned corset and--as a last minute change--her usual black skirt along with laced boots. She is feeling the cosplay today. Under one arm is her EGO (still a book). "Mm..." She says, looking for someone she's not seeing. "I suppose he must still be busy." Angela is still a little uneasy around cute children due to her history of crushing one repeatedly over and over and she is hesitant to approach Lugh about this.
Odette Raskins	How long has it been since Odette's seen everyone from Elibe, anyway? Way too long, so she's determined to look as reliable as ever right from the start! She's dressed in the same white tunic she had purchased last time, but she's made a few additions to the outfit: A pleated white skirt with dark blue trim, a matching half-cape with a white caduceus stitched onto the back to give her that adventurer-medic look, and a pair of dark brown leather gloves and boots for proper travel and ruggedness! Probably. She's wearing a new-ish carrying case for all her medical supplies at her side, too, slung across her shoulder with her Trideag sword and sidearm worn on each side of a belt that's undoubtedly got even medicine stashed into the little pouches lining it. The only thing in her hands, though, is a single wooden staff, clutched tightly to her chest in anticipation of showing off the fruits of her labor. Her hold relaxes, however, when she sees a familiar face at the hub. "Miss Shanna!" Odette raises her hand for a high and excited wave while hurrying over with a half-jog to greet the pegasus knight. She takes a second to glance around at the warehouse-y-ness of the hub, then nods once with a light giggle. "Yeah... It might have some neat stuff lying around, but probably nothing we can't get anywhere else. Um. It's great seeing you again!" More walking, and the oily jungle has Odette already reconsidering her choice of tunic color. The salt barren has her pulling her glasses down to shield her eyes at least a little bit, and she even rummages around in her pockets briefly to prep some eye-misting spray for later. "Once we're out of here, I've got something for that." Seeing everyone in that clearing, though, helps her forget however little pain and discomfort there was on the way here. Odette rushes forward as the groups crowd together, a sense of relief hitting her all at once. "Lugh, hi! Oh, definitely. I mean, it's probably nowhere where near what you could do the last time we were here, but it's been going really good. And you've gotta show me how much you can do now, too. Where is Father Lucius, anyway?" Surprisingly, she's not disappointed that Lucius isn't here. Just hearing Lugh telling her to report in is relief enough at knowing he's not hurt or something. "Roy! Yeah, it's really great seeing you again.. Gosh, it's been too long. I made sure to eat plenty before coming in, so I should be good for a while if we need to ration anything." Smiling confidently at Roy and Lilina like that's an achievement of some sort, Odette puts on her more serious face once the topic shifts to intel and Cecilia. "Right into it.. Okay. How have things been going back home with all the.. Er. Getting everyone to settle back down after last time?"
Petra Soroka	Petra thinks about the last time she went to Elibe, before the long voyage. After the war, Elibe was practically the only opportunity for Petra to see Lilian for a while, and only due to shared investment in the results of this other war. Even after weeks, Petra was still awkwardly avoiding getting too near Lilian, looking away and only responding when spoken to, still a mess of guilt and residual hostility and resentment, over things that couldn't have gone any other way.     Now, of course, their relationship is in a much better state. But she wonders a little bit what it would have been like if they'd joined the Lycian army on the ship, out of doubting whether there'd be any accessible warpgates in Ilia, or whatever other reason, and she and Lilian were stuck on that boat together in close proximity. Would it have been better, because of Petra having constant nonthreatening closeness, on the same side among people who both of them respect? Worse, because of prolonged closeness in a small area so soon after the facility? Catastrophic, because being around people who Lilian respects is directly *bad* for her opinion on Petra?     It's hard to say, but Petra mulls over it anyways. It only makes sense that her way of conceptualizing how much time has passed since she's last seen someone would be plotted on a Lilian-based line.     Another thing different this time is that Angela is with her! As is Audrey, but, like, whatever. Petra's outfit is... not quite warm enough, actually, for Ilia. She thought it would be, given that it's like, five layers if you count the cloak, but the sleeves are actually easily pierced by even a small breeze of the frigid cold that Ilia has.     She's fine for now, but she pouts a little and rubs at her arms. It becomes absolutely imperative in her mind to give no sign at all that she's cold ever no matter what. She keeps one hand squeezing Angela's while they walk, and at this point at this distance, it's barely a strain at all to keep funneling Light through the psychic link. "Oh! Petra...!"     "Sophia!!!" Petra brightens up seeing her funny hapless little gal pal soldier, and Sophia's sogginess compels her to be more forwards about expressing fondness at the reunion than she'd typically be. She squeezes Angela's hand to signal that she's about to let go, long enough to give Sophia a quick hug. "Doing better now that you're on land? I brought some chocolates for people to share, since I bet surviving on shitty boat food's been miserable." "There's also intelligence from Ilia."     It's been a while, so Petra feels the impulse to reiterate exposition from last time, both to make sure Angela-- who wasn't there-- and Audrey are reminded, and to show how good and smart and paying attention she was to something she can be so serious and helpful about.     "Yeah, we're looking for local rebellions to boost to turn the public opinion against Bern here, right? Any specific starting points there yet, or not that lucky? It's not like we're particularly subtle on who we are, so we might have trouble finding a village that's both large enough to supply stuff, and also, like, isn't hostile to us."
Angela	Angela wishes she could inspire people with a fiery speech and encourage them to rebel against this or that. But this is decidedly not a skill she had to practice. "Mm. I understand. I may not be of much assistance but perhaps some on-the-ground insight will help me discover the best way to provide ongoing assistance. Who to send." Angela hesitates. Why is she even bothering? She was doing this stuff before because she wanted to assure allegiences, make allies, prove her competency. But she has no need to do this anymore. And then Petra hugs Sophia and the moment of hesitation passes. She has plenty of reason to assist here, she decides, even if it's only to make things easier on her friends and family. "I appreciate you being a friend to Petra." She nods to Sophia before looking to Roy and adding, "Also, the disruption to my service should be over for the foreseeable future. Ideally, through the rest of the campaign."
Lilian Rook	Lilian had been underplaying it by saying that she was 'glad' that the Lycian League made landfall safely, and that she'd have prayed a little 'if she were religious'; after everything that's beset them, with Lilian even there for most of it, having to let them all out of her sight and stand by for so long has been quietly nerve-wracking in a way that she hadn't appreciated the enormity of until seeing Shanna's face and feeling it melt away.     It's like dropping ballast. A lurch to the surface, a counterbalancing pop, a sense of weightlessness, then dizziness, and then settling gratitude. It'd be super weird to turn such a casual meeting into anything seemingly serious, though, so Lilian keeps her hands to herself. It's much more normal to practically hop-skip through horrid salt wastes and abandoned warehouses, remarking on the surroundings by pointing at the scrape marks and saying "Oh! How resourceful! It's always so nice to see those rare signs that people are paying attention and using their heads, you know? There's something to say about the indomitable human spirit or something, I'm certain!"     Oh, well that on was paid towards Roy and the others, so it's doubly true.     "Oh my, Lugh! You're training your anima control? You've gotten so good at it!"     "Sophia! I'm so glad you're alright! You've been taking good care of everyone, I see!"     "It's a relief and a pleasure yourself, Lord Roy! You may finally have shaken your boat-related curse, haha~"     "Are you studying as well, Lilina? Or has the accounting gotten so unwieldy that the Seneschal requires an assistant?"     "Oh come off it Shanna. Far more people are happy to see me than they are reassured, you know."     Lilian is also, most certainly, underdressed for the cold. It isn't due to a particular resilience, but the fact that she'd just rushed over without too much forethought beyond grabbing a care package and come straight from a muggy summer elsewhere. She is slow to notice it, currently fueled by the positive energy loop of metaphorically rolling around in the grass. She's brought either the exact containers or identical purchases she brought the Precures crashed on PNF-404, for an ostensibly similar purpose, though it obviously won't go nearly as far with closer to fifty soldiers than two girls. Lugging it all over to wherever she assumes Merlinus will find it, what Lilian sets down is more or less a 'celebratory' drop; a day or two of high quality eating and various treats that'll last a while if portioned out.     Anyone can tell how satisfied she is with having thought of it earlier, because Lilian makes a big ol' exertion noise when dropping it all off, and dusts her hands with a smug look on her face. She only shivers after, and then sideways double checks her indoor officewear outfit. Hm.
Marigold	"Ah--!" Neon's hug takes Shanna off-guard enough that she nearly misses her chance to hug back. But only nearly. After a half-second's tangible indecision, she wraps her arms around Neon just in time to reciprocate the ending squeeze; Shanna rubs her own arms afterwards, as if to massage in the feeling.      "It's good to see you too...!" she manages, happy but still a bit wrongfooted. She and Thea have their differences, and Dieck doesn't show affection like that; maybe it's just been too long. "How've you... um, I mean, I heard you were sick a while back, Neon! You're better now, right?"      "Still," she adds to Ace, "It's better to not have to survive something like this, right...?"      "They're actually magical animals! Like dragons, a little bit!" Shanna gushes to Audrey about pegasi on the way over. "You can raise them anywhere, but riding them is hard. Ilians are usually short, so we've got the strongest tradition of it..."      "I wish I could show you what it's like, but you're definitely too heavy to ride! Sorry." Shanna is like a half-foot shorter than her, with a twiggy gymnast's build at most.      - - - -      "Hanging on?"      Sophia nods to Dysnomia with a distant smile. "Fae's never trouble..." she insists, even though that's definitely not always true. "Igrene's been taking good care of us... but thank you... after we do our shopping, do you want to play with her again...?"      Compared to Shanna, Sophia takes hugs much more gracefully- if a little limply, too. The dim-ish light filtering through the overcast sky rounds the half-dragon's pupils, softening the look of her smile, and Angela's praise makes her more embarrassed still. "Petra...! Oh... your arms are cold," she murmurs right after, blowing her cover. But she nods: "I'm starting to feel better... the ship food was okay, though. I'm used to Arcadia's food... it's always a little bland... is chocolate easy on the stomach?" A little sheepishly, she holds out her hand for it. Imagine accepting gifts.      Lugh is so delighted by Flamel's praise that he almost neglects and fumbles his handheld flame; Lilina has to make a hurried little magical gesture of her own and nudge it back into his palm. "I've been doing my best! Father Lucius is still a lot better at cheering people up than me, but... I've been trying to find ways to use my magic to make people happy, too! Like this!" Portable space heater isn't the worst use for fire magic.      On the way, he absorbs Flamel's regaling- 'absorbing regaling', in fact, is one of the favorite activities of any early-teens boy. It takes Odette prodding to rouse him from it again:      "Oh! I wouldn't say I've improved a whole lot... I keep doing my best, and Father Lucius- he's still down by the ship- says I'm really talented, but it's not like I'm a beginner making breakthroughs anymore!" "I don't think that's true, Lugh. You've gotten even faster than me at Elfire, right?" "Oh, maybe, but I still can't do lightning things like you, Lilina..." "Please don't feel bad about that! Cecilia herself taught me. You've almost been on your own!"      Something about the way Angela stares at him prompts Lugh to hang back a little for her: "Are you okay? You're, um, Ms. Angela, aren't you? Who're you looking for?"
Marigold	A little flurry of responses to Lilian:      "Oh! Um, thank you, Lilian..."      "So you'll believe it when she says it, Lugh?"      "I wouldn't say 'taking care of'...!"      "Haha. I guess the boat is the first thing to go smoothly in a while..."      "And yes! If I want to keep up with everyone else, I can't be lazy. General Cecilia gave me a new training curriculum."      "Oh, of course." Roy fishes the slightly-crumpled paper out of his pocket and hands it to Ace. "But to summarize it..."      "Not too 'dire'. Bern has stayed quiet ever since Etruria," he says, simplifying the short letter only a little. "It's eerie, but they're happy to just feed on their conquests and produce more dragons. Ilia is occupied in reality; but on paper it's just an ally of Bern. By buying out the High Wingleader's services, Bern has won over the rural areas, which rely on their mercenaries for income. Only the large cities like Carrhae and Edessa are resisting. They're where Bern's oppression is obvious."      "It's like the opposite of the Western Isles, then..." Lilina muses.      "Where we rallied the countryside's rebels against Juteaux? I guess so."      "And what about Juno?" Thea asks. Wait, didn't Shanna say 'Juno' was her oldest sister?      "Juno of Edessa? I... have to think she's alive, if we haven't heard otherwise. But you should steel yourself for her to be a captive of Bern."      "Ah... thank you anyway, Lord Roy."      Roy shakes his head to clear his thoughts as he leads the way down the little trail, behind Madeleine. "I'm warm enough," he lies. "It wouldn't do if I were warmer than anyone else. Thea says they'll take coin if they think they can trade; otherwise we can offer them medical care, dry rations for fresh fruit, or spare shortbows for hunting. We always seem to be getting more weapons."      The two pegasus knights lift off to look ahead, and probably put in a good word with their countrymen. "Um, anyway... Ilia's weaknesses are its open coastline, its poor agriculture, and the underdevelopment of its midlands. Castle Remi to the south is a strong obstacle to Etruria's forces, probably led by General Murdoch- but if we can push east through the rural taiga, we can cut it off from supply lines from Sacae and Carrhae. Then Cecilia could encircle and destroy it when she comes behind us."      "If not, then a little recon-- an advance party going ahead..."      "So you are trained," Lilina says approvingly to Nobunaga. "You're right, but don't worry. We are the advance party! Most of our little army is still back by the shore. Once we get our wagons put together, we can camp somewhere secret in the forest if the villagers don't like us- maybe even on the other side of that 'Warpgate'." She holds out her hand to shake: "Lilina of Ostia! It's good to meet you." "Isn't it 'Lady' Lilina?" Lugh leans over to ask. "If Roy goes without that, I don't see why I can't!"      - - - -
Marigold	Everyone who can't fly crunches their way down the narrow pine-needled footpath, to the humble little village that was harvesting salt from the Otherworld.      It's strikingly unlike the villages in Lycia, or even those in the Misty Isles. Maybe forty squarish one-story homes are set into a couple of hillsides among the pines, most of their doors facing the same direction; though the weather now is calm, they seem designed to resist howling winds. Clay seals the gaps among their rough stones. No more than a dozen sheep graze in sight nearby, alongside some number of goats.      What should be the dead of summer anywhere else is harvest-time in Ilia; the meltwater ditches that fed their low-lying fields have already dried up, and half the crops have been gleaned by now. Something about all this feels... unwell. On any other world, surely there are many villages as poor as this one, but here it feels jarring with the usual vibrancy of Elibe.      When Shanna and Thea circle to land, villagers in rough linens and cottons step out onto their porches and open their doors to gawk; on perching outside the village by a field, a happy throng quickly surrounds them. Roy quickens his pace, and you can hear snippets of what they're saying already...      "She's back! Everyone, she's back!"      "Talia! Talia! Oh, Talia! You're safe!"      "Who'd you bring with you...?"      "Talia, how much did the Wingleader give you?"      "Oh, bless us... Talia, your mother--"      "What news of Etruria? Who'd you bring home?"      "Wait, that isn't..."      Shanna struggles to make herself heard over the crowd of twenty or thirty farmers, putting up her hands pleadingly. "I'm sorry, I...! I've never heard of a 'Talia'! My name's Shanna, I..." Thea stands tightly by her, in case the crowd's disappointment turns violent, but doesn't speak.      A slow ebb of dire fatigue starts to seep through the crowd as they realize their hometown hero hasn't returned, after all.
Dysnomia	"You mean," Dysnomia responded to Sophia, with an understanding lilt to her voice. "Fae is such a delight, the trouble is always worth it." She began to reach into her pack, pulling out a variety of things. Some small trinkets...And photographs, even, of strange vistas with names written on them in neat handwriting.     "I'd love to play with her...And, I picked up some trinkets from my place. And some photographs of some striking places in the multiverse. I think our wanderlost little whelp might be fond of them." Her eyes darted up to Sophia's, then, in a silent moment somewhere between uncertainty and deferrence. Will she like them? Worries haunted her, making her uncertain. Is it even something I should be giving?     "By buying out the High Wingleader's services, Bern has won over the rural areas, which rely on their mercenaries for income."     "Then we need to make a good impression, when the presence of our armies becomes unmistakable." Dysnomia frowned. "And not just because we'd be stepping on their livelihood. If Bern hired their mercenaries, there's a good chance we'll have to fight some." It was a grim prospect. But she didn't expect the consequences of it to come to roost so soon.     The exultion and disappointment--despair?--of the crowd rolled over her like a tide, a small smile instantly twisting, eyes downcast, fighting to remind herself that that hole she felt in her stomach is not mine.     Talia might still be fighting with their Wingleader. For Bern. The look she gave Roy was half-a grimace. We might kill her.     "...We need to find a way to convince them to drop their contract with Bern as soon as possible." Dysnomia murmured, keeping her voice low. Immediately, she voicing it. It was such a sentimental thought...But...She could find a way to spin it..."To gain the alleigance of rural Ila with minimal unrest, it would be essential."
Madeleine Cadrasteia	Madeleine nods and "mhm"s along with Roy's report on the war. "It's a good plan," she says of the scheme to cut of Remi's supplies. "Is this Cecilia's strategy, or has she been taking your input as well? I hope you had some say in being the tip of the spear."     Thea says they'll take coin if they think they can trade; otherwise we can offer them medical care, dry rations for fresh fruit, or spare shortbows for hunting. We always seem to be getting more weapons.     "That's good. I was wondering if Etrurian coin would give away our allegiances earlier than we'd like to, but if they're used to trading in the stuff... I guess our main limit will be how much they're able to spare, seeing as they can't eat gold nor live only on the salt they gather from the portal. As long as we can collect enough to get to the next village... the forage here isn't great, as you said, so we'll have to be careful about our own supplies."     As she and Roy approach the gathered crowd, Madeleine raises her hands in front of her in approximation of a non-threatening gesture. The spiked bracers probably aren't helping, though. "Don't be afraid," she half-calls, loud enough to be heard over the dying hubbub from the locals but not quite at the volume of a proper shout. "We have coin for your pockets, medicine for your sick, food that will keep through the winter months." She beckons Roy forward with one hand, cueing him to make a proper diplomatic introduction.
Desire Stars	I heard you were sick a while back, Neon! You're better now, right?     "I am," says Neon with palpable relief and her face full of warmth. "Thank you for thinking of me. To have fans, or an audience cheering me on, that's one thing. But, someone closer, who actually knows me... well, I don't have too many people like that in my life." It's better to not have to survive something like this, right...?     "Of course it is," says Ace. "To be able to say, 'I'm happy and safe,' that's ideal. What we have in common with whatever lives back there," he continues, with a nod behind him (towards the now-distant warpgate), "Is wanting that. Depending on who you ask, wanting it for your kids, too."     After a cursory read-through, Ace hands the crumpled paper back to Roy with a little nod. "Thanks, Roy. I'll turn it over in my head a while and come back to you with anything that jumps out at me. I guess the first thing that comes to mind is whether you guys have crossed that kind of terrain before," he asides to the commander.      "What separates us--from those animals in the salt flats, I mean--is that we can see somone else living in danger and hard times, and feel what they feel, even if we aren't," He then says to Shanna. Ace shrugs. "Depending on who you ask," he repeats. "Zephiel would probably argue to the contrary. We're the defense to his prosecution. I've had worse jobs," he says, his eyes on Dieck as a little smile settles in. It's like the opposite of the Western Isles, then...     "Which means winning people over is a lot harder," Neon ponders aloud. "I guess we just have to show that--" Wait, that isn't...     "My name is Neon," one of two superstars volunteers. "I'm from what you'd call the Otherworld. I..." She frowns, hands squeezed together. "Can tell you'd rather my friend Shanna was your friend, Talia. You must really miss her, huh?" A sad smile.     "I know we're not who you were hoping to meet, but I'd really love to meet all of you. We have a... pretty long trip ahead of us, and I can't promise we'll run into her, but if there's even a chance, I'd love to pass along any news or... well wishes."
Angela	Angela is prompted by Lugh. She doesn't flinch, really, but only because she's so accustomed to harming children that it doesn't really get a rise out of her so much as just makes her feel a cold pit in the center of her body, an extra one compared to normal. #-1 FUNCTION (ANBSI) NOT FOUNDI am Angela, yes. I was just looking for Father Lucius. I've wanted to be able to meet him in person for quite some time. He ... was a helpful ear when I needed one so I wanted to thank him." She crosses her arms, tapping her cheek with her index finger. "But it is understandable he is likely to be very busy? If he has no time for me, for something so... quaint... I understand--" "I'm sure he'd be happy to hear you out." Roland interjects. "You don't gotta discourage people from what you want from them all the time." Angela opens her mouth, and then snaps it shut. This time, however, she doesn't threaten him subtly or directly but seems to quietly absorb what he just said instead. ''Father Lucius- he's still down by the ship- says I'm really talented'' "Ah, is that where he is? Then I will pay him a visit when Petra is up for it." ''Many cheers for Talia!'' Angela gives Shanna a long look, one that clearly says 'you could have just lied and probably saved us trouble'. But she shakes her head. "Such a close resemblance. Interesting." She doesn't seem affected by the heat. Father Lucius here, she keeps thinking. What if he can smell it on her? The lives she's snuffed out. Directly and indirectly.
Nobunaga	Nobunaga pauses, shifting her eyes but not her face towards Lilina when addressed. Her hand shifts, tapping a finger at her chin in light thought, before she offers, "Nobunaga of Oda. Nice to meet you." Country, clan, it's basically the same thing as far as she's concerned, "It pleases me to see this group is in such capable hands, then." She finally faces the taller women as she speaks, accepting the handshake with a wide grin; her grip is firm, the hand of a warrior, though unlikely to phase a solid daughter of Ostia. - - - -     The little warlord spends the descent towards the village appreciating the mountainous wilderness, sharing anecdotes with Lilina from her own childhood in similar woods, chasing frogs and shouting at blackbirds and other youthful nonsense.     It's Roy's quicker steps that draw her to silence and she matches his pace in an instant, her hand resting on the hilt of the sword at her hip. Those voices on the wind and Shanna's apology do enough to relax that grip before she actually reaches the group gathered around the Pegasus Knight. Nobunaga enters into a pall of exhaustion and fatigue and worry where there was celebration mere seconds ago.     "Eh?" She feels out the atmosphere, dipping her head a bit while searching the faces of the villagers more directly, "What troubles you so?" To another villager on her other side, she asks, "What hopes rode so heavily on this woman which leaves you in such a state to find she's still abroad? Tell me."     She might lack the backstory but Oda Nobunaga is the sort to care about the suffering of the people. Whether her motivation is emotional or pragmatic is another question; by her face, she at least seems sincere.
Audrey Basque	"I wish I could show you what it's like, but you're definitely too heavy to ride! Sorry."     Audrey is more than happy to gush about pegasi, though certainly saddened to hear she's too heavy. And a bit miffed, maybe?? "I-I'm not-- I-I mean, I'm, like..." Is she that out of shape?? She looks down at herself, critically, wondering if she's lost sight of her own shape and truly embraced GROSS LOSER BODY physicality and mentality.     "I mean, I can... magically reduce my weight, but..." Well now she's just being pouty and pathetic. Rather than pout and try to explain, she gently hops off the ground to hover alongside the pegasus and Shanna, as they continue talking; having the cloak makes it a bit more stylish, when she does this, but it's certainly a petty use for her magic. One she's been doing more of, lately.     "I suppose it makes sense though, even if I was shorter, you've surely had to train a long time to ride them. Ah, I'll have to content myself admiring you when you ride it."     That'll be fun too, though. Tactical talks!     Bless Petra for the reminder. Audrey does her best to absorb as much of the information that's being put up as she can; talks of conquests, dragons and oppression line up with the last time she came, when they stared at that map. She watches with interest when the pegasus knights take off, and then apparently it's time to go and be the advance party. That's a bit stressful, but Lilian's presence is an eternal sort of motivator to Do Her Best and Try Not To Mess Up.     So's Petra's, really.     The idle mention of Father Lucius reminds her of getting a bloodied and muddied handshake. He was nice! But that was... To the village!     Audrey follows along the party on-foot, lacking the speed to keep up with the knights if she tried to fly with them. It's a bit striking how the place looks; she lacks the context to fully tell this is a poorer village than it should be, but then it looks miserable to her all the same.     She turns to Roy, idly.     "So these kinds of villages rely on mercenaries for income? Is it because the land is too poor to harvest?" They do seem to have crops. "I could... how is magic perceived, here? If we need to both impress and supply them, I can enlarge their fields. They'll have more harvest-friendly soil."
Odette Raskins	"I've been trying to find ways to use my magic to make people happy, too!" Odette inhales sharply, finding it impossible not to smile even more at that. "Y... You're doing great at that, too, Lugh. Keep it up!" She encourages, giving him a slow and approving nod while inching a little closer to the magic fire and tugging her half-cape over herself a little more. It doesn't help her legs feel any warmer, but it's better than nothing. "I wouldn't say I've improved a whole lot..." "Really? But you've been able to hold this for... How long has this been going, anyway?" Odette asks as she gawks at the space heating flame, scratching her neck idly with her staff. She giggles again at Lilina's comment about Lugh's skill with Elfire, too, then starts mustering her own resolve up to try and help the young mage's confidence. "See? Even Lilina's recognizing your ability. Being able to do the same stuff faster and more effectively is an important part of improving, too!" Taking a deep breath, Odette points her staff up in the air, and then closes her eyes. "The biggest fire I can make is still..." She murmurs and trails off as she starts to recall the feeling of making a flame right then and there. It takes a considerable amount of concentration before she's able to conjure up a lighter-sized flame from the tip of her staff, and she has to really stare at the fire just to keep it going for three whole seconds before it fizzles out. "... That kind of fire, emphasis on the L. Still hot enough to get a grill going, at least!" "produce more dragons." Roy's report on how things are going, meanwhile, has Odette sweating a little despite the cool air. "I was worried about that... Nnh. W-well, we've got plenty of rest and time to train, so we should do way better against whatever Bern's going to throw against us now." She lies, mostly to herself in the hopes that it might bolster her confidence by the time she has to fight again. "If Bern's been quiet outside of that, though, maybe... Hn. No, it'd be dangerous to expect them to be the same as before even if we've improved a lot, too." INTO THE VILLAGE "This is really different from the other places we've been to before..." Odette comments as she sees all those homes packed into the hills, marveling at the construction even from a distance. "So this is how people use this kind of space efficiently... Neat! And... Eh? Oh, they're popular." She laughs lightly at Shanna and Thea seeming so popular, but that quickly turns to mild concern when she realizes that the villagers are talking about someone else.  Following Madeleine's lead, Odette raises her free hand while the other pats the carrying case at her side. "Is anyone sick or injured? I'm a doctor with this crew here, so if anyone needs treatment, I can do that." Neon's kindness towards the villagers actually seems to calm Odette a bit, too, as the EMT continues stepping forward and glancing around. She taps on her glasses once to get a quick read of the villagers, to try and identify anyone that's particularly hurt at a glance. "We've got plenty of eyes to watch out for Miss Talia, too, if that helps."
Flamel Parsons	The intel, on the way over to the town, has a lot of Flamel's ample attention, the rest going to Lugh. He gets a chance to take a crack at that though. He thinks a lot about that situation... The first thought that rises up is spurred on by Dysnomia, then emphasized by the commentary on coin and trade. It turns around in his brain -- if you look very closely, you can literally see small thoughts running around his skull, little cartoons of Zephiel, volumes of money, some agonizingly tall woman on top of the scariest horse a man has ever imagined.     Eventually they all settle down and he speaks what was shown in illustration: "You know," He mutters, "It almost feels like the ideal approach would be to take a shot at their economics." He bounces an index finger as he follows the group's walk. "Or, I guess -- have they already paid in full? Is the contract made and sealed, all payments made? Man, I wish I knew a pirate, or someone who could do a lot of ultraviolence to a treasure fleet." At which point a caricature of someone else barges through his skull. "Wait! I bet *Echidna* knows some pirates. We just got done with a huge turmoil on an island! We gotta see if she can help us plan something. Maybe."     He continues on to the village. "Wow," He mutters. "This mood is *trash*. It's not just a horrible situation materially, it's... sheesh, there's probably been generations of low-happiness state. Inadequate festivities, poor mood-weather coordination, existing generational deprivation -- something's had people in a bad state in the same way it hit their grandparents. I should scout the psyche..."
Petra Soroka	Petra is reciprocally absorbing the immediate, tangible relief and happiness that Lilian exudes on contact with the army. Lilian fluttering around and being a social butterfly by checking in on everyone affectionately is the natural and proper state for her to be in, and Petra can feel happy about it both because she's been trained to consider Lilian's emotions to be so much more important than her own as to override them, and *also* because it feels like yet another piece of healing clicking into place. "You can raise them anywhere, but riding them is hard."     Petra, walking besides Audrey, is naturally included in the conversation, and she's been entranced by the pegasi ever since she first saw them too. "I bet. I've only ridden a horse a few times, but even that amount of, like, three dimensional vertical movement can be hard to handle going downhill. Dropping out of the sky... and during combat, too. They're really pretty animals, though." "I wish I could show you what it's like, but you're definitely too heavy to ride!"     Petra is significantly smaller than Audrey, and she opens up her mouth to ask if *she's* too heavy, but in doing so, she's struck with the memory of someone who definitely is too heavy. Thinking about Galle immediately drains the whimsy out of the idea of playing around with the pegasus for fun, and she presses her lips together and goes silent. "I mean, I can... magically reduce my weight, but..."     "You could do it mundanely too," Petra blurts out, then coughs embarrassedly. Casual misanthropy is her signature attitude, but still, Petra has a duty to be an ally of at least lukewarm feminism. "Sorry. That was actually, like, so mean for no reason. You're, like, already working out anyways." "... after we do our shopping, do you want to play with her again...?"     Ignoring Dysnomia, Petra slides between her and Sophia as if the question was addressed to her. "Oh, I'd *love* to. I bet she's super restless about being cooped up in the boat. But, I'll probably help out with the busywork of unloading stuff and setting up the caravans first, so I'm not totally exhausting myself by running around with her without contributing anything." ". . . is chocolate easy on the stomach?"     "Yeah," says Petra, who grew up eating sugary American food. She flips open the mirror hanging around her neck and holds it in her palm, plucking a thick chocolate bar out of Qetra's hands, and then handing it over to Sophia. "It's like, good marching food specifically, since it's so small but gives you a big boost of energy. Your stomach's still...?" "Then I will pay him a visit when Petra is up for it."     "'Course, Ange. I bet he's helping everyone set up, anyways, so it'll be killing two birds with one stone to head down there after shopping." "By buying out the High Wingleader's services, Bern has won over the rural areas, which rely on their mercenaries for income. Only the large cities like Carrhae and Edessa are resisting."     Hm. That's so annoying, actually. The fantasy is typically what they did in the Western Isles, rallying the villages by assisting here and there until they're a collective political force that allows the heroes to penetrate the big cities. If the towns are getting money by a handful of mercenaries funneling it into them, then they're... two steps removed from the actual war and occupation, and there's no real fire waiting to be lit up inside them. "It wouldn't do if I were warmer than anyone else."     "Dieck's shirtless," Petra points out.
Petra Soroka	"Then Cecilia could encircle and destroy it when she comes behind us."     Petra closes her eyes for a few seconds to try to recall the map that was at the tactics meeting before, then nods. "Yeah, we wanna be kind of, like, multitasking with any march we do. We're super low on time, and there's no Divine Weapons in Ilia, so every extra day we spend here is more dragons later. So cutting off the supply lines just by heading towards Sacae anyways seems smart."     While on the walk to the village, Petra finds a solution to her steadily growing chill that doesn't involve 'asking for help'. She lets go of Angela's hand for a minute to affix Fourth Match Flame into her belt on the opposite side, and then simply focuses on the ember-warmed side of her leg and pretends like it's spreading to the rest of her body.     On the topic of unwellness, it's something that's been looming over all of Elibe, in Petra's perception. Even though this world is kind of stunningly kind and beautiful, and Petra can name more people and locations she likes here than in maybe any other single world in the multiverse, there's an apocalyptic pall that washes out the colors, even before learning about Iðunn's impact on the world. A rural village, starving to death in the wastes while their local heroes vanish or die, just feels par for the course. "I've never heard of a 'Talia'! My name's Shanna, I..."     Petra murmurs under her breath, hanging back. "Is blue hair that common in Ilia...?"
Lilian Rook	In the growing activity of the pre-camp, her task completed, Lilian finds herself hesitating to move straight on to her next. Keeping to herself for a few more moments, she closes her eyes to better remember the air of this place as she breathes, then gently holds her breath to better hear the countless conversations that have nothing to do with her. Soaking in the of the lives that are led in fast forward around her, she repeats and turns each detail over in her thoughts, and looks to the face it concerns in turn, one by one, closing the cycle of senses.     By the time she realizes that everyone is talking to her, she's already a little bit behind. Looking stunned for a moment, what little intentional poise there is to her expression crumbles towards a helpless smile. "Seeing you all in high spirits like this feels like the most I could have asked. Perhaps that long stay in Etruria was actually just what everyone needed? When we're all together like this, somehow I just can't picture losing."     'Ilia is occupied in reality; but on paper it's just an ally of Bern.'     Well, of course time is finite before business must inevitably become once-again serious. Lilian doesn't regret spending it.     "I'd hesitate to characterize King Zephiel as 'content' with anything." Lilian says, now in the process of glancing over her own person to decide on a warm up method for herself. "If Bern is resting on its laurels, it's because they have something in motion we can't see yet, or what they want isn't in Ilia. I'd like to hope for the latter." she says, finally deciding to just use a talisman. "And for once, I won't call it an unreasonable hope. Ilia itself, if our riders here won't mind me saying, doesn't even have that much that Ilia wants. Its military resources are its national treasure, so if Zephiel can have them for mere gold, then it's a simple matter."     She frowns a little at Roy's insistence, but only urged as far as, "Dieck isn't normal. Don't try to factor him into your coldness average." She only barely tries to hide her smirk at Audrey getting rejected; she herself might also be too heavy, but that's irrelevant right now. Petra is getting her ass, which she isn't a good enough person to not smile about for just a second. "To think, Angela is getting to hike the marching trail on her very first day out here." she says, just to change the subject.     . . . . . . . .     With not much more than her sword and her Ostian cloak added to her ensemble, Lilian chooses the ground because it's slightly less chilly than the air. The sight of the village at first glances off of her, being in her well-practiced 'simply accept whatever strange culture you see' posture, and then returns to hit her in the back.     She turns towards Shanna and Thea, opens her mouth unwillingly, and quietly says he words, "If Talia doesn't come back, these people have to make it to a city or starve, don't they?" She may hate whatever answer she gets, regardless of what it is. "Does anyone ever leave the countryside like that? Do they succeed? If they had more to themselves, better land, are their neighbours the sort to respect that? Or would it be taken by a village whose Talia did come home?"
Audrey Basque	"Sorry. That was actually, like, so mean for no reason. You're, like, already working out anyways."     Audrey is amongst too good a company to be completely demolished by the remark, and does her best to take it on the chin and laugh it off for now.     "I'm trying to, at least. Give me a couple of years and I might even have *a* muscle to show off."     A whole one, perhaps! "To think, Angela is getting to hike the marching trail on her very first day out here."     "It's nice, right? Though... I wish the cost and limitations weren't so high. We're still working that out, but it's really seeming like... the only consistent way is more Light."     And all the implications that has.     Those bother her less than seeing Petra strain after hours of being a psychic battery for Angela.     She tries not to think about the fact they don't bother her more. "Or would it be taken by a village whose Talia did come home?"     Lilian's point makes Audrey think twice on her offer to Roy, all of a sudden. "Ah... right... if we just... embellish this place, give them resources, nicer fields... they'd have to protect them, then. Probably."
Marigold	Sophia is halfway distracted by most of her compatriots hustling down to the village, but she still has time to be pleasantly astonished by the photos. "Oh...! Little portraits..." she murmurs, and gratefully takes them before even noticing Mia's hesitation. "No, you're right... she'll be very happy. I promise. Thank you..."      It's adorable the way her face lights up when she takes that first bite of Petra's chocolate. For a second Sophia's pupils become slits despite the overcast sky; you'd never think reptilian eyes could fit so cutely with 'delight'.      "Oh...! It's better than Etruria's..." she says, and then glances around to make sure no Etrurians heard her. Giving a rare, tiny laugh: "Playing with Fae 'contributes' something... I promise... at least, I hope it counts..."      "Dieck says he's warm," Roy says, a little doubtfully, against multiple inquiries. "I don't want to be shirtless..."      "whether you guys have crossed that kind of terrain before..."      Roy shakes his head, then hesitates. "'We' haven't. Merlinus, Shanna, and Thea have," he says. "Is there anything important we should know?"      Lilina is taller than Nobunaga- by a couple of inches!- but it's hard to call her 'solid'. Her hair and eyes are about the only similarity the dainty noble has to her father Hector. "Ah... I don't know about 'capable', but... thank you."      "Is this Cecilia's strategy, or has she been taking your input as well?"      "We talked about possibilities before we left," Roy says. "With what we know now, I think this is the plan she'd want us to pursue. So... I guess you could say it's her speaking through me?" He says that like it's too cheesy for him.      "we can see somone else living in danger and hard times, and feel what they feel..."      "'Compassion is what makes us human'," Roy summarizes, and then looks at Sophia. "Oh. I'm sorry. "Huh...?" "Ah- never mind..."      "It's important," Lilina affirms, staring ahead at the village's hubbub now not-too-far-away, "but compassion makes winning a war a lot harder, doesn't it?" Roy almost answers her, but he can't find the words.      By the time the on-foot party reaches the village's outskirts where people crowd around Shanna and Thea, the mood has turned to a simmering, gut-wrenched despair. One middle-aged woman, a shepherdess with a red kerchief on her head, turns her face away and makes a noise that might be a cough but is probably something worse. An old man with leathery-tanned skin embraces a boy who might be his grandson, as if bodily shielding him from the bad news.
Marigold	"You must really miss her, huh?"      "You could say that," says an exhausted old weaver who'd hobbled to the front, with a hunched back and callused fingers; graying hair tight in a bun. "Who are you? Foreigners, come for what? And with whose daughters to fight for you?"      "Sh- Shanna, like I said! And Thea, of Edessa. Come to drive out Bern."      "Drive out Bern!" Now it's a middle-aged farmer speaking, leaning on his hoe like a cane. "And conquer us for who?" "We're not here to conquer anything! We're trying to liberate our home," Thea insists, unable to keep quiet any longer.      "And 'of Edessa'!" the old weaver says. "What are Edessan girls doing fighting? Haven't you got bread on your tables anyway?"      "Please... stop... we're only here to trade..."      "What troubles you so?"      "Can't you see? Look around you," the old weaver says miserably to Nobunaga- though, for her obvious sympathy, not bitterly. "Delphine didn't come back, either, twenty winters ago. Now the nails in our homes are rusting through, and we can hardly hunt reindeer with our arrowheads made of stone. What do you think we will do if Talia doesn't?"      "That's enough. Ple-ease," the red-kerchiefed shepherdess says, and she quiets the other villagers not through any authority, but through the emotional croak of her voice. She wades through them, nods tensely at Thea and Shanna, and clasps Neon's hands tightly.      Just as that sound she made might have been a cough, the glisten on her eyelashes might be melted snow. Even aged by stress, she can't be more than thirty. Desperately: "Talia is the daughter of my sister, Magrita up the bend. Tell her please that old Janus died over the winter, and her mother is sick, but waits for her. We had letters from her that she'd fought in Lycia, and then was going to Etruria after the peace. Where she is now we don't know."      All that takes it out of her, and the shepherdess breathes heavily before releasing Neon's hands. Her pleading eyes drift to Nobunaga, too. "Talia looks much like your Shanna, but straighter hair and a cut on her face. Please."      Shanna looks heartrent, and nods with her hands clutched against her chest. "Okay. We'll--!" "You are invaders," the shepherdess cuts in, not bitterly. "I know this. I don't want to hear any promises you cannot keep." "... I'll do my best not to kill other knights." "Good, then. I can believe that."      Thea finds room now to turn away from the commotion, and smile tensely. "Maybe not starve," she says to Lilian, "but some kind of slow dying. These people can't make nails, or hoes, or medicine or shoes. They have enough food to live, but not enough to trade. The wagons they do trade with come from far away, so even simple things are costly." Nodding to Nobunaga: "If their knight doesn't return with her gold, what can they do if their hoes break?"      She smiles sadly, at Audrey and at Lilian's second point, and shakes her head. "The soil here is rich already. But the growing season is just three or four months. The plenty of the cities isn't limitless; moving there risks losing everything you have. If you make this village a place of plenty..." Thea has to take a moment to think about it, but doesn't look optimistic. "Starving neighbors will move here, until it isn't 'plenty' anymore."
Marigold	Roy tries to keep down a grimace. "But if it'll feed anyone, it's still worth doing, isn't it?" To Audrey: "That isn't something our world's magic can do. But if you can bless their fields somehow, I don't think they'll object."      Flamel's psychic prying finds useful grist. It's hard to call this way of life 'maladapted'. It is hard, and full of pain; but it's the only way for these people to survive on this land with what they have, and a whole country can't just move somewhere else. You can't even call it a martial culture. They don't valorize killing or war. They valorize being good enough to get paid, and making it out of a richer country's schemes alive. Still, something has to change. Surely there's only so many generations of this suffering a people can endure.      "Stealing Bern's war-chest could do some good," Lilina agrees from behind Flamel, malaised. "We're going to disrupt their supply-lines anyway, aren't we? But Shanna said the High Wingleader Sigrun is with Bern... if that's true, isn't the only way we could break the contract by...?" Killing Sigrun, the young noble doesn't want to say.      Lugh is nearish the back of the group, vaguely misery-irradiated by proximity to the crowd but not too badly. He's still talking with Odette, in lowered tones: "You're almost a prodigy to get that far already!" he says. "I'm jealous. I'm still no good at light magic."      And to Angela, he mimics the Father's angelic smile: "I don't think Father Lucius would ever call someone's feelings 'quaint'. That's the kind of thing he likes talking about the most. I'll take you to him right after this, okay?"      While Roy starts to gradually wind around to the more mundane topic of supplies, Odette's offer of medical help turns eyes. "Oh, Saint, please yes. The old witch of the mountains- she comes by here once a month to see our sick, and a few other villages. But we haven't heard from her since Bern took her away. Why she went with them, I don't know... if you see her, please don't hurt her either."      But with eyes turned Odette-wards, and minds on that subject, it's only moments until another connection's made:      "That boy," says the old weaver, pointing at Lugh. "Aren't you the old witch's apprentice?"      "M-me?? No. I just came here. You have to be..."      "No, with the green hair... what's your name then, child?"      "Lugh!"      "Oh. Well, then."      But Lugh still looks troubled.
Desire Stars	Dieck *says* he's warm.     "He is." Is there anything we should know?     "Even Dieck will want to cover up," says Ace, with a sigh. It isn't lost on him that he does so, and that draws a certain shade of his characteristic smug smirk back. "We're moving in summer, so it won't be as cold as it could be, but generally, it's probably the coldest you're going to get short of wading through ice, especially at night."     "Speaking of wading through ice," he says with a frown, "It's pretty common for the moisture in the ground to be frozen in taigas. That means we'll have to take care if we set up camp, so that the warmth of our fires and tents doesn't turn the ground into cold mud. Trust me when I say you don't want to wake up in that. I worked as an engineer once in a pretty cold place. If you can get me some wood and tools, I can make piles we can use as foundations." Talia looks much like your Shanna, but straighter hair and a cut on her face. Please.     Neon squeezes the shepherd's hands, meeting her eyes and finding her own a little misty. "I'll keep an eye out for her," she says softly.     "And I'll tell her everything you've told me. I wish I could make you a promise that I'd definitely find her, but that isn't one I can keep," she says, glancing at Shanna.     "I... there might be something else I could do for you, though. Do you know about the gate to the Otherworld nearby? I could bring through nails from somewhere else, and whatever else would make things easier for you. And... all I'd ask in return is that you'd tell visitors from other villages about it, after we leave."
Audrey Basque	"Starving neighbors will move here, until it isn't 'plenty' anymore."     "So, essentially, a short term solution. Nothing's changing long-term until everything else is sorted." She agrees with Roy, though. "It'd be better than nothing, especially if it can win them over." "But if you can bless their fields somehow, I don't think they'll object."     "No, not bless, just... make bigger. It's hard to explain. Stretching the land. Making more of it, kind of. If-- IF there's ley lines nearby, I could make them pass through the village, and that'd result in better harvests indirectly."     Big if, though. She recalls the briefing, and the fact Bern was doing something or another that was actively disrupting the world's magic and its flow.     But the fields, at least, she can handle right now, and it's better than focusing on the ambient despair. The others here are all better equipped to handle that, and it sounds like Roy values improving things.     Audrey shuffles off back a bit, to get a good look at the fields and crops. The stars in her cloak glow just a bit brighter; she feels for a few things, the boundaries between sections of the fields, whether there's any ambient magic to draw from or not. The position of the stars, but that's a bit of a shortcutted thing through the cloak. The missing stars in this place's sky, still bother her immensely. Like trying to do math with more than one unknown.     It takes her a few minutes. Longer than it usually would, but she's pondering a few extra details to make sure she doesn't mess up anything.     When she finally moves, it's to stretch the fields. Though it doesn't duplicate the crops, it does result in a whole lot of extra space where things could be planted, and the soil's already prepped up and all. It's not turning things into more fields! It's just making more fields. Essentially, bigger on the inside. Even though they're outside.     IF there's ley lines in the area, she'd have to spend a bit longer to map those out, and then a bit longer still to work with them, but could make them curve just a bit to pass through the fields without interfering with them otherwise. The whole trading and supplies thing, plus those offering medical care, might take a while, so she's not short on time anyway.
Angela	''It'll be killing two birds with one stone.'' "]Excellent. I am very excited to shake his hand properly." Angela says, tone conveying no excitement at all--but Petra can probably tell she's quite serious about that. ''I don't think Father Lucius would ever call someone's feelings 'quaint'.'' "Told you--" Roland says, absolutely certain he's going to pay for this later but grinning a little all the same. "Don't worry, I'll make sure the area is ''secure''." "...Thank you Roland." Angela says. Then there's a second case of mistaken identity and Angela frowns deeply, her grip on Petra's hand tightening faintly. One doppleganger is interesting, more than that... "Something strange is going on here..."
Odette Raskins	"We gotta see if she can help us plan something. Maybe." "It wouldn't hurt to at least check in on Miss Echidna and the crew, that's for sure." Odette nods at Flamel and taps her chin. "And even if she can't, they really helped us out last time. It'd be nice just to catch up with her and Miss Larum and Mister Elffin, too." A pause, and then Odette lets out a quietly troubled noise.  "Oh, but they might all be busy with their own things, too..." "they have something in motion we can't see yet, or what they want isn't in Ilia." Neither of those things sounds particularly good, and it shows rather plainly on her face at first. Once she notices her own anxiety starting to build, though, Odette swallows lightly and puts her poker face on to start suppressing. "I mean, I can... magically reduce my weight, but..." Odette dies a little more inside. If even Audrey would be too heavy for a pegasus, her own prospects for riding a pegasus are looking even dimmer than ever. "We had letters from her that she'd fought in Lycia, and then was going to Etruria after the peace." "I don't remember meeting a Talia in either of those places, so.. That might be a good sign?" Odette tries to sound hopeful, although it's difficult to do so when there's so many worst-case-scenarios flaoting around in her head. What if this Talia was among those caught in the battles with the dragons? Or someone that fought and died long before she had even stepped foot in Elibe? Is this how her own parents and the people back home felt when she left? Sure, she's still calling back every day, but that's because she has the means to. These people certainly don't, so of course they'd be worried sick. The fact that so many of these villagers remind her of her own family and friends back home really tugs at her heartstrings that much more, and she turns to Shanna with a half-pleading half-grateful gleam. "Thanks, Miss Shanna. I know it'll be harder, but... I'll help every step of the way." "You're almost a prodigy to get that far already!" Feeling a little more homesick than before, Odette's grateful for Lugh turning her attention anywhere else (even if it does get her a little embarassed). "Eh? Aw, prodigy, shmodigy. That's the kind of stuff that only realy happens in stories! B-besides, all my stuff's good for is being a pilot light, or closing up paper cuts... And not even big ones." It's saved her quite a few finger-sized bandages, at least. "Besides, yours is more useful, I think. You can protect people with yours, or-" She tilts her head towards Roy. "-make them happier like you did before." "The old witch of the mountains-" "A mountain witch...? Oh! A real witch doctor..." Odette's eyes shine with clear curiosity, but that soon gives way to concern again once she hears more. "If Bern took her away... Um. You wouldn't happen to know where they took her, would you? We'll probably be running into Bern more as we go, so we might run into her, too." "And don't worry, hurting doctors is super messed up. If we see her, we'll make sure to send her back safely, too."She declares, clearly trusting/assuming everyone on this side of the conflict has the same view of such matters as her. She also looks over at Lugh as the weaver draws attention his way, noticing that look on his face shortly after. "Well.. A-anyway. I'll start doing the rounds to see who needs what kinds of treatment. Lugh, can you give me a hand? I'll need help sterilizing my tools so I don't transfer anything." She asks, totally not just looking for an excuse to get some more time to ask what's eating him.
Nobunaga	As the old weaver explains the village's plight, Nobunaga keeps her eyes locked on him, nodding now and then to convey her listening and understanding. The old woman's wailing draws her attention next, though it's more of a glance over her shoulder. The weaver has more of her interest. Her heels tuck together, legs perfectly straight as she balances her chin in her hand. Eyes cast downward in thought.     "It is quite a hard time your people are made to endure; where your greatest fighters must go and fight in another person's war; perhaps--" Those crimson eyes close, "--never coming home at all, as with your Delphine." Suddenly, she spreads her arms in a way that causes her cape to billow out. From within its folds tumble a handful of tiny... caricatures of herself; the cutesy little homunculi known as the 'Nobbu'.     It can be hard to see them in the crowd, they don't exactly scatter or anything. What they do is pick Nobunaga herself up so that the rather short warlord can be easily seen amidst the people. Now about eighteen or twenty inches taller, she spreads her arms and raises her voice, "Is this the future Bern promised you when they took away your sons and daughters?"     Raising one hand, she thumps it against her chest, "Well, I think you got a pretty lousy deal!" That same hand reaches out, fingers splayed. In flickers of golden light, countless antique rifles of burnished walnut, steel, and brass materialize in such a way that they stick into the ground by their bayonets, "I am Oda Nobunaga, the grand unifier of warring states!" ('demon king of the sixth heaven', Flamel and others might pick up, 'probably is inappropriate to claim right now'), "I understand you are worn and frightened. Those with the will, and those who are fed up-- take up my arms and seize for yourselves a portion of my power-- the power you may use to reclaim your future and the future of your children!"     Raising both hands to either side, Nobunaga proclaims, "In this, our goals are united, I welcome all volunteers with open arms! Those of you who decline; I understand, and I will do my greatest to do right by you and yours all the same. In every village and hamlet and town, all the way to the capital!"     She might be too busy shouting to have heard the chatter about the mountain witch.
Petra Soroka	"Playing with Fae 'contributes' something... I promise... at least, I hope it counts..."     "Sure, but I..." Petra leaves the sentence hanging as the dial-up sounds in her brain start playing. Her now-habitual double checking and reverification of her justifications for her behavior causes her to discard the first easy-access deflections that come to her mind, but when she uncovers the more honest self-analysis beneath it, conversational pacing doesn't give her enough time to formulate it into an answer that's normal to say. So, she just blinks in confusion at herself and then blurts it out bluntly in a sustained stream of consciousness.     "--but I have a complex about being useful to other people in order to justify my presence and doing something that feels childish while the other soldiers are working would make me feel really bad even though taking care of Fae is important." "'Compassion is what makes us human',"     In order to add to Roy's embarrassment, Petra holds up Angela's hand and outs(?!) her. "Ange isn't human either, by the way." ". . . but compassion makes winning a war a lot harder, doesn't it?"     Taking in the sight of the sort of dismal village, Petra pauses and lingers on that line for a bit. She's had more reason to consider that exact line of thought now than ever before, but she doesn't feel any more prepared than Roy to actually answer it.     "... I guess it depends on whether we're 'winning a war' or 'fighting for humanity', right? How much compassion does Bern and its allies deserve? And are we actually strong enough to afford giving it?" Petra frowns, and then drops her eyes from the village. She mutters under her breath, "I'll get in *so* much trouble if I start arguing that *Zephiel* deserves some dignity in war even though he's trying to kill people we care about." "And conquer us for who?"     Petra bristles a bit at this, because *obviously*, for *once*, they're actually the good guys! It's such a pain in the ass to be treated as if she's still being evil even when she's trying to care about people! It takes a second for her to realize that that is, in fact, the justification for choosing to act as morally reprehensibly as she normally does, and that this is still a hundredth of the treatment that Lilian gets daily for doing that exact thing, and she sighs, losing her energy.     It's so hard to even get mad at people for being poor and annoying about it when she has to walk through District 12 every day anyways. But what does she even do here? In District 12, she has a concrete, specific, immediate way of responding to people's suffering that she's meant to have empathy for, so she can just follow through on those. Here, she can't immediately solve these people's issues by kidnapping them to a different location, so what the hell is she supposed to do? Her frustration starts to stir vague antipathic hostility inside her towards... the villagers, which she knows isn't justified, but it's there anyways.
Petra Soroka	"Tell her please that old Janus died over the winter, and her mother is sick, but waits for her."     "Okay." Petra settles into a kind of blankly defensive (against herself) expression, and pulls a notepad she's been using for journalistic activities out to write on. "Do you have a name, so if we do find her, we can say who told us? We probably won't find her unless it's a fight, and just, like, saying "your mom's sick" in the middle of a fight is gonna sound like some dumbass threat instead of a message." "No, not bless, just... make bigger. It's hard to explain."     Petra leans against Angela, abstractly drained by exposure to the village. She pans her eyes over to Audrey, and tilts her head. "That is blessing them. That's the same thing, isn't it? Wouldn't the Tradition a couple thousand years ago have described it as a blessing?"
Flamel Parsons	Flamel listens closely to what's being talked about. The strong, agonizingly intense implications that their work has resulted in mass material harm, harm that might not have hit just now but might hit over the next ten or twenty years, direly worsening the life of everyone in a village. And he carefully experiences it, lets it impact his soul -- and then packs the insight away. It is a tool to use, and not a thing to internalize. Do not let it reach your heart. He keeps listening.     Later on, he leans in towards Lugh.     "Hey, Lugh-ey." He whispers into his ear. This is entirely unnecessary, given Flamel can just telepathically beam this knowledge. "This is an important part of spycraft! You gotta capitalize on opportunities. Don't commit, but always try to have an angle on cover. Now's a good time to seek her out. If she's been taken by Bern, going after her is a good way to connect us with countryside communities. She's probably visiting all kinds of villages. Better we rescue her than not."     As for Lilina? "I want to make Bern incapable of holding up their side of the contract... but I don't know how the contracts work around here. It's worth taking a shot at either way, but I need to gather intel about the actual arrangement that got made. That means finding someone who's privy to it and getting the details from their mind. Probably whenever we encounter the mercenary forces here. Better that than... guh, I sure don't want to make this nation be in a worse position!" Well, some things you can't help but internalize. A nod to Odette. "Echidna's definitely some of the expertise I wanna leverage here. Between her and the folks like Shanna and Thea who know the social landscape, we'll be able to do things responsibly."
Audrey Basque	"That is blessing them. That's the same thing, isn't it?"     "*Technically*, yes, but usually when you hear blessing you think... more crops, more yield," Audrey stops, sighing. "Okay yes I am making it possible to have more crops and thus more yield but..."     Terminology!! There are huge debates about stuff like this.     "Like... I wouldn't want to give them the false impression I'm doing anything *except* giving them more space to work with. That's how you get weird misunderstandings or expectations and then misuse the space. I'm just making more fields! A proper blessing would be like... *better* fields. You know?"     While she works, she segues into idle an explanation. "Plus, thousands of years ago, astrology was being used to figure out where and when to plant things. Which is *like* a blessing, and if you're enough of a charlatan you can sell it like one, but really you're just figuring out the best solution that's already there." You need to stop her or this won't end.
Lilian Rook	'Dieck says he's warm,'     Lilian frowns, as if Roy should know better. "Lord Roy. It's Dieck." she says, before deciding she should be more specific. "There are things people say because they're true, and there are things people say because they mean them to be true." There's a little hitch where she swerved off 'men', remembering that she is, in fact, talking to one.     'So... I guess you could say it's her speaking through me?'     "In a way, our mentors often are, whether we know it or not. It's easy to forget, but important to remember." she says, satified. Lilian Liked That. +5 reputation points have been gained from this dialogue choice.     She watches Roy trip over his tongue a little with Sophia, watches carefully, nods slightly, smiles silently, then doubles back confusedly.     . . . . . . . .     'What do you think we will do if Talia doesn't?'     Lilian breathes out, low and directed down, like rolling with blow.     §I see. Well. That's what I'd surmised. A country doesn't become 'a mercenary land' because it's one of plenty. Fighting is lucrative when it's for people who have enough to fear losing it. That's to be expected. I expected as much. I was prepared.§     She takes a deep, steadying breath.     §Villages like this don't have warriors with which to rise up against Bern. Villages like this don't even have anything to cut Bern off from. What happens to them is irrelevant either way. What can we promise them except help they'd have to stay here to keep? What could we even expect from them for that help?§     'The soil here is rich already. But the growing season is just three or four months. The plenty of the cities isn't limitless; moving there risks losing everything you have. If you make this village a place of plenty...'     "I see." says Lilian. It as at once telling Thea that she need not say anymore, and that she's glad to have been told. "That's more complicated than I'd like, but I suppose if it were simple, your people would have solved it long ago. There's not much to be done about the climate itself." she says. Lilian turns her face rightwards, brushing her hair with her fingers out of false habit. It's much too late to try and hide her hairpin from notice, even if one ignored her sword. She goes silent for just long enough to be worrying. Staring at the horizon, she thinks of some words of Sue's that the archer has probably already forgotten. She parts her lips nearly half a minute before she breathes.     "This is the way things are. But Talia, at least, is a victim of Zephiel's war. All the daughters of this generation are." says Lilian, seeming to decide on something. "In the first place, his designs are that no one should go home at all; not even his own men, by the end; and so money is no object. So . . . though I don't see Bernish boots, perhaps it is Ilia that is poised to be exploited most of all." She lets her attention roam further along the half circle away from those mistrustful stares, before it comes back.     §This is a fucking country. A massive one. Trídéag is already expensive; this is a completely different scale.§      "Actually, perhaps the lack of Bernish boots is what hides it best."
Lilian Rook	Lilian seizes on the matter of the witch gladly. It's something immediately actionable. Concrete. So simply 'doable' that it's almost beneath her pay grade, in a way. She looks to Roy as if for confirmation, and says "People who've suddenly disappeared before we arrive seem to have a habit of turning up in one sort of place, don't they?" she says. "We have scouts to spare, if nothing else. And if she comes by once per month, she must be visiting a score of other places in the area as well. Connected and no-doubt popular." she concludes, with an inscrutable head-jerk.     As if she's just been given an opening or an excuse to seize upon, Lilian rolls her shoulders, starts marching into, and then through the crowd, and slips the strap of her bag down her shoulder. She looks for a slightly elevated place with sunlight-- any sufficiently broad and flat boulder, terrace, or covered yard will do-- before doffing her cloak, folding it up beneath her, kneeling down on it, and starting to unpack.     'How much compassion does Bern and its allies deserve? And are we actually strong enough to afford giving it?'     "Everyone who deserved none is already gone." Lilian says, eyes down and focused on the task of sorting out bottles, bowls, brushes, vials, and pouches. She must be in work mode already, because she doesn't sigh at all before adding, with an unpleasant tone of admission. "And not really."     'That is blessing them. That's the same thing, isn't it?'     '*Technically*, yes, but usually when you hear blessing you think... more crops, more yield,'     "Petra. Make youself useful and grind all three of these in separate bowls. Morphmetal is non-reactive. It should be fine enough that a little dust should rise when you churn it, but not escape." says Lilian, separating tiny containers of dried seeds from clumped mineral grain. She uncorks a vial of red ink with her teeth, spits it back into her palm, sets it in a two by three holding stand, and begins propping up four rods of separately coloured incense, then reaches out her palm expectantly, saying "Lighter. I know you have one." She draws and checks her military knife from the bottom of the bag, then turns its flat edge over a miniature mortar, retrieving a brush next.     "Shanna. Thea. Divide the crowd into two groups and write down individual lists of what needs repairing or replacing. Metal goods first, followed by ceramics and medicines. And Lord Roy-- would you mind terribly if I remain here until the rest of the army is done? If you can leave Merlinus, and ideally Lucius in my care for the day, I'd appreciate it greatly."
Marigold	Petra's outpouring makes Sophia's eyes blink-blink, which soft-resets her pupils back to round. "Oh. I... um..."      She's wrongfooted enough to stumble into a little burst of vulnerability, too. "Me too? I... don't do much that's useful to anybody... so it's extra-important, that taking care of Fae counts... I'm sorry, though. Thank you..."      Purely on instinct, and uncharacteristically boldly, Sophia reaches out and pets Petra's head exactly once. She looks a bit embarrassed after, but maybe Petra reminded her of someone.      "Ange isn't human either, by the way."      "Huh??" Roy turns around to re-examine Angela, and then gets struck by a thought. "Oh. Is that why she keeps her eyes closed...? he marvels. Dragon. Dragon for sure.      ". . . Wait, I'm not human!" He says so defensively, but isn't actually sure whether that absolves himself.      The talk of engineering sparks Lilina's attention: "Oh! Piles... little foundations to keep our fires and tents off the ground? That's really smart, Ace! Pine should work, shouldn't it? I know Merlinus has tools to make new wagon-wheels if he has to, so..."      Cecilia's training, it seems like, didn't focus on engineering or emplacements- but Lilina's still a quick learner, and even goes to 'talking about tileable foundation designs' if he lets her muse on it long enough.      "Do you know about the gate to the Otherworld nearby?"      "Of course. We've been getting our salt from it," the red-kerchiefed shepherdess laughs, though her eyes are still damp. Some bit of relief has come to her. "Better than getting it from the ocean. It's our one stroke of good luck."      "Is that really safe...?" Lilina asks. "Some Otherworlds are poisonous."      "Safer than not having enough salt, little lady."      "Oh . . ." Their hardship isn't really something Lilina can wrap her head around, but she sure tries.      "I could bring through nails from somewhere else..."      "Really? Nails, and arrowheads, and vulneraries? Ahhhh... don't make my heart ache if you can't keep your promise," the shepherdess says, but there's no real doubt in her almost-playful tone. Her fingers interlace with Neon's for a moment before dropping away; the other villagers can't quite match her hope, but some of it leaks into them nonetheless. Warmly-almost-teasing: "And what heaven are you from, that just the sight of our lives would move you to such pity?"      "Do you have a name..."      "I'm Astrid, her aunt. And her mother is Magrita, as I said." Petra's dullness slows the red-kerchiefed woman's warmth, but only by a little.      Nobunaga's offer, though... after the initial wave of murmurs and awe that her demonstration incites, it's clear that she's left them cold. A few of the children are roused, but their elders protectively restrain them. As Roy said, the people of the cities are eager to resist, but the rural villages dependent on mercenary money see no reason to:      "Take up arms against who?" the old weaver says. "Bern, who pays us? Maybe our own children, working for them?" "Please, grand unifier," says the lame farmer leaning on his hoe, in a gentler tone. "'Taking back our country' won't get us anything but emptier stomachs and more dead daughters. Do what you will, but leave us in peace."
Marigold	"Hey, Lugh-ey."      "Huh?" Lugh startles a little, so absorbed in the news about his doppelganger that he hadn't noticed Flamel leaning in. "... R-right! You're right. And if we can get those villages on our side by rescuing her... I don't know if they'll rise up, but at least they won't rat us out, right?"      He warms towards Odette again, though clearly there's still something on his mind. "Yeah. I think... I think we really ought to find that witch," he says, nodding firmly to Lilian too. "And don't be hard on yourself! I know I'm young, but I've been training with magic for almost five years! It's not the kind of thing anyone does overnight."      Lilina steps away from Roy's side to lean over and nod-nod at Flamel conspiratorially, too. "I'll talk to Shanna and Thea about it," she says. "I know the High Wingleader negotiates for all pegasus knights. The fear of being sanctioned keeps a lot of them in line. I don't know if Bern's ever going to run out of gold, but maybe if we get rid of whoever signed the contract for their side..."      Audrey doesn't find this world too difficult to work with. The shape of its magic-flow is strange- there are disused channels beneath the channels, like burnt-out fuses or dry riverbeds- but doesn't strongly impede her. The missing stars in the sky, too (there's no milky way) are a peculiarity, but not a fatal one.      As she works, a few of the villagers come over to watch her, murmuring steadily less in suspicion and more in awe as the results become evident. "Well, isn't that a sight..." "Saint preserve me. It was already an ordeal and a half to plant it all." "Oh, be grateful, you little clod." "I'm joking!"      "Shanna. Thea. Divide the crowd into two groups..."      "Huh? What are you planning to..." "You can just make things out of thin air?" "Oh! Of course not. She's going to make things out of her bowls!" "That's the same th... okay, Shanna." "Everyone! Form two lines for us, please! And Thea, get me some paper!" "Sure. Lugh, get me some paper." "Oh! Okay, Ms. Thea!"      How much compassion does Bern and its allies deserve? And are we actually strong enough to afford giving it?      "Everyone who deserved none is already gone. And not really."      Roy stands off to the side of the ritual, still quietly troubled. He's staring at a little map, copied down from that last meeting in Aquleia. Bern's generals exist on the map only as red blobs of force; Etruria and Lycia as green masses. It's not hard to tell what's going through his head as he tries to absorb the human enormity behind that glib little colored slip.      "I want to be the kind of person who can. If it's just 'harder' in the way where I'll have to try more, that's okay. But it's not really that kind of 'harder', is it? It's the kind of 'harder' where we'll lose more people."      "... How can I ask that of anybody? To risk themselves more, just so I can be the kind of leader I'd like to be?"      "It's about the kinds of people we'd like to be, too," Lilina says gently, having been magnetized to his distress. "I'm not here to be ruthless, you know."      Again, he doesn't have a good answer for her. "I'll just see how far trying gets me," he finally says, and that's that.