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Carna     A centipede creature with the faces of its victims worn like gaudy masks, frozen in expressions of fear, terror, and the last convulsions of death, in a row along its carapaced back. It is running on its multitude of legs, fleeing. A bolt of light shoots down and pierces its armor, and its recessed head it thought guarded within. It is pinned to the ground by a shaft of pale white light, like ghost lightning, run through its skull. Its body continues to thrash in the convulsions of something already dead that just hasn't stopped moving yet.

    Eventually those movements slow, stop, and the creature disperses into Dead Lights.

    ----

    A stitch-mouthed woman, squinting eyes so narrow that whether there's even eyes there or simply empty pits, works over a cauldron in the misty woods. She adds another handful of fingers to the noxious brew, selected from a bowl at her side. But as she reaches for the next handfull, a shaft of light pierces her hand, nailing it to the table, another runs through her torso, connecting her to the hot metal, and then as she struggles and tries to yell in rage and pain, a figure enters from outside of her hut grabs her head by her long, stringy black hair, rife with spider eggs, and holds it in the toxic broth until the contents of her skull have been emptied into it and dissolved.

    -----

    A warehouse where a weasel-looking creature in a vest counts the bodies dangling from chains above him. Living souls, many of them children, abducted from outside the Land of the Dead, to be sold at a premium price to the hungry denizens of Lumiere. He has sampled a few of them himself, based upon their missing feet.

    To 'guarantee' quality. Then light lances in from the windows, striking through rusted metal and dumping the victims to the ground. Amidst the sudden flurry of action, the weasel-thing does not notice that the rattling of chains is not all for those who are falling. And he does not realize until it is too late, the way a length of steel links loops around his throat, until it is pulling him up into the air high above, to there strangle and crush the half-beast throat, lungs not needing breath to sustain his undead body, but the sensation of drowning in one's own blood unpleasant regardless.

    Then a figure walks in as the victims try to gather strength to escape after what they have endured. And she proceeds to put arrows through the weasel-man as he dangles, targeting extremities first, and gradually working her way inwards, leaving the finishing blow for this Deathly monster until he has had a taste of the suffering he gave to others. And then she denies it, lowering the chain noose until the creature is just above the floor. She opens the back doors of the warehouse, and helps the victims escape out the front.

    Some time later, drawn by the smell of life, Unlit swarm in and devour the weasel-man as he hangs helplessly.
Carna     ----

    A sampling of the dreams that Finna has been having of late.

    But now, finally, it seems the purpose of them is clear. A final vision, a final message, of a simple shrine on the other side of a small, glassy pool, overlooking a vast chasm. A place near to that one omni-present light source in Lumiere, that has yet to be visited. That shining needle that floats above everything, and yet is no more than the spire of a tower on a much larger structure.

    'Come here.' the message says.

    While getting there involves navigating through as-yet unexplored territory in Barrowville, the first of Lostrata's two planes (or 'Coins' as they have been referred to), and there are dangers to be sure, whether by the Moon's guidance or something else, Finna manages to reach the general area of her destination as though by the hand of fate.

    Now, she finds herself in a nest of warrens, of tunnels formed by dilapidated buildings collapsing into each other. Somewhere in here is the path to the shrine, and the realization of that final vision.
Finna As she frequently does in Lumiere, Finna travels as the Snow Fox, stepping too lightly to disturb much dust or air... and certainly too quiet for any Unlit that might remain in the dilapidated town to hear anything. A living soul down here has a tantalizing scent all its own, but somehow Finna has managed to dart and trot her way to the entrance to the collapsed barrowville labyrinth.

    The little creature sniffs at each of the possible paths laid out before her, hoping one of them might carry a whiff of the glassy lake or the dust of a deep chasm...

    But she doubts it will be so simple.

    The vixen aims a squinted, focused gaze sweeping across the paths as well...

    "Luna, guide me." Whispers the fox, hoping for help.

    She isn't sure which of the two is likely to respond to that bit of prayer. Her own patron, or this Other-Luna who seems no less kind, but far softer in demeanor... if the play is at all accurate.

    And she takes a step down one of the paths and trots her way on, putting faith in the moonlight within and without. One of them will surely guide her!

    "All this effort and there are still monsters like those in this gods-forsaken place...? Not for much longer!"

    Finna may not be the most righteous of individuals, but that's because someone needs to ignore those rules so others don't have to.

    That is her patron's way.
Carna     The claustrophic tunnels, little more than crawl spaces, that would not even accomodate a human form, certainly have their share of unpleasant things. Some of them Unlit insects, who received too little in the way of spiritual fragments to mutate and grow into the things that could actively hunt, may need to be squashed quickly before sheer numbers become a factor.

    One alcove is completely packed by some person or creature who has folded themself into a broken mass of undead flesh. How long they've been here is unknown, but they do not respond to Finna's presence at all, whether they could detect her or not.

    Eventually, with the taint of ages of death lingering around her, the fox should succeed in squeezing through the space between two boards JUST far enough apart, to emerge into what looks at first to be a forest.

    But the broken beams and girders, the wreckage that has fallen and tilted just so, are not the limbs and trunks of twisted dead trees. Just ruins of human civilization. It DOES seem as though there may have been some intentional effort on someone's part to create this appearance however. And, she is not alone.

    Things wearing shadows, with wolf skulls, and long, scythe-like claws, walk upright here, slightly out of alignment with reality. They leave behind them a carpet of little bone-flowers that suck hungrily at the decayed air for bloody sustenance. Based on the expansive fields of these skeleton-plants all around, it is likely that they have been patrolling this place for a very long time.

    Somewhere in this place is what she seeks. There are no fortuitous signs, no fateful rearrangement of enemies to provide her passage. It seems that being led to the entrance to this place was all the help she is being given for now.

    Perhaps... This is some sort of test.
Finna Finna squeeeeeeezes through the only passage available, popping free with a muted squeak of discomfort and rapidly shaking her fur free of dust and yuck. She coughs-splutter-hacks out the musty air and only once she's gotten her bearings back does the little fox take the time to examine her new surroundings...

    The Snow Fox's squinty eyes widen some.

    Upon spotting the freakish shadow-monsters patrolling the forest of beams and rubble she briefly considers just charging through and slaying them. They are, after all, clearly something Very Wrong.

    But the fox tilts her head left and right, takes a few closer looks.... and siiidles up to one of the 'trees' for a better look.

    She's making no violent moves on them tonight, it seems. No, for although they are WEIRD and look monstrous, she doesn't yet know their purpose or disposition. What yet have they done? Other than look CREEPY as can be.

    And so she steps gingerly and lightly through the fields, hoping to find islands of refuge between the massive paths of boneflowers and leap from spot to spot when the beasts' attentions appear elsewhere.

    She has a shrine to find, and killing freaky things that are just roaming around in circles aimlessly isn't very helpful!

    God only knows what sort of monster might hear the commotion if she tried.
Carna     If Finna climbs into the false trees, whether to get a better look or to traverse them, it seems that, from up here, there is a path that can be followed. Almost a walkway laid out of her, invisible from the ground, but obvious once she moves above. The way 'branches' of metal seem to overlap, the way the gaps are easily crossed for one with her abilities, the very SPECIFIC way in which all these 'trees' have been set up makes it seem very much as though there was a method to whatever madness created this forest. She does not have to delve below, and the creatures pay her no mind.

    When she moves to the ground, that changes. There is little to no bare ground to step upon after all this time. So little, in fact, that there are times where bone flowers may crunch under foot. And THAT draws the attention of the skull-creatures, their eye sockets lighting up with ghostfire, making noises like a cross between a predator on the alert and frigid air being drawn into a deep, dark cavern. They turn and begin making their towards any point where these breaks occur.

    Hopefully Finna is swift enough to already be gone from there before they arrive. It's unclear how far their awareness and senses extend, but they don't appear to be particuarly far-sighted.
Finna Between hops, Finna briefly is overtaken by curiosity. The strange bone fields are curiously beautiful and so she takes five seconds to crouch down, sniff at one... and poke it gently with her paw.

    Of course, it crack-crunches in a much louder manner. And ALL her hairs stand on end as if she can FEEL the glowing eyes upon her. Being an Exalt... who knows? Maybe she can. Or maybe it's just animal instinct speaking.

    Either way, with danger senses a-tingle, she risks a split-second to glance at the nearby OH GOD their eyes light up ZOOOOOM!!

    And with that, she takes refuge with a SKYBOUND LEAP... and perches on one of the 'branches' of the trees above.

    After hopping a few more branches further down the path she stops to observe what exactly the Skullshadow-things DO upon reaching the source of the disturbance...

    But she's not going to waste much time on that. With a faint croon of curiosity shemakes another great leap to the next tree over, and the next, and trots along the branches...

    "Who knew the trees would be this convenient?" She whispers to herself, a bit proud of this discovery... and only slightly suspicious of it.
Carna     The creatures, upon reaching the place the flowers were broken and finding nothing, slow their movements, and seem to eventually just... Resume their tireless patrol. The way the shadows moved like a tidal wave of black mist when they were rushing forth, carrying with it their weight and momentum, means they probably would have hit very hard had they had something to strike. With nothing there, they just pass through, replacing the broken flowers with new ones in their wake.

    The path leads Finna eventually to an even colder location than Lumiere normally is. Fog starts to gather and immerse the ground. There are no more signs of wolf-skulled guardians, but it's hard to make out anything down there, at least to mundane senses. For Finna, she may be able to discern a trio of figures seemingly bound to wooden pole or stakes, all in a row. They wear old, ragged clothing, their heads are down, their hands tied behind their backs, and their feet bare and pale. The 'trees' are spaced further and further apart as she comes across this scene, so that all trace of the path that was there before vanishes.

    If there's fog, perhaps that means there's a water source nearby.

    Is she expected to make a choice here? To continue her search, or to stop and help?

    Little details of them can be made out at this range with the fog cover.
Finna "...Guardians?" Finna mutters, pondering the nature of those strange creatures. They're too organized, too purposeful... clearly designed by some kind of intelligence. So they must be Guardians of this place.

    With this on her mind, Finna's focus sharpens... and she picks up the speed along the path, only slowing when...

    ... When, quickly, the path is obscured by fog. She drops down onto the ground here, sniffing at the humid air. Humid... but FRIGID.

    Good thing the cold doesn't bother her too much, even if her fur's starting to gather a bit of the vapor.

    Sniff sniff, sniff sniff... she smells it before she sees it! And so the little fox approaches the trio of pole-bound unfortunates for a closer look.

    After all, if there are people bound here... someone must have bound them. And done so for a reason.

    She's careful as can be on approach, cautiously zig zagging and sniffing the air, even circling just in case she'll pick up a whiff of anything that might be lying in wait.

    And if nothing odd happens, she'll trot lightly up to the trio...

    And finally, the fox breaks the silence, as she melts upwards in a rush of expanding flesh. In no time at all the fur recedes, leaving Finna in human form, garbed as she usually is down here in the hunting leathers, running one hand through her hair...

    "What exactly's this supposed to be? Did you three piss off someone important? Left here as a sacrifice...?" She's not even sure if they're able to respond yet, but the foxgirl's voice does carry some sympathy as much as curiosity.
Carna     It is good that Finna circles around. The ground underfoot is simply moist dirt. No more bone flowers, thankfully. And from behind, she may be able to make out details. For instance, only one of the figures actually has their hands bound. The one on the left. The one on the right isn't actually bound at all. The on in the center has nails through their not only their hands but also a long one through both elbows, with large restraints or bolts of some kind to keep the metal lengths in place so they can not be worked free over time.

    The center one and the one on the right appear to be female, the one on the left male. The woman in the middle is wearing a dress, whereas the one on the right is wearing the same sort of clothes as the man. A medieval-era hunter's clothes, but designed for a man. She appears to have a figure that does not entirely fit into it, in a provocative way. The man, in the same clothing, similarly not fitting into it very well, but for reasons of being very broad chested and muscular, has a pair of knives at his waist, one on each side, though he can not use them with his hands bound.

    All in all, there's something very fishy about this situation. When Finna approaches, there is no verbal response, though there are some wet, weak, gasping breaths that start up, as though the sound of someone's voice made them remember to breathe. The ones on either side twitch a little bit, showing signs of life, but the one in the middle remains still.
Finna Seeing what's been DONE to these three is enough to make most people flinch, easily. The only reason Finna doesn't do so for very long is... these three are not alive, and aren't really in danger of dying further. The situation just... sucks.

    Not like she needs to rush, here, in other words.

    Finna sets about scratching her cheek thoughtfully while waiting for the trio to come to their senses... if that's possible. She's not sure if they're even capable of speaking - who knows, maybe someone cut out their tongues or cursed them?

    But her attention's most on the cross-dressing female huntress, who is apparently not really bound here.

    Because anyone who'd stay here and act bound, but not be, must be utterly crazy. Or perhaps in on a trap.

    "I am Finna, huntress of the north. Take your time, I can spare some."
Carna     Still no response. The woman in the middle's head moves a bit. Not in the twitching, spastic way the other two are, but like someone dazed and waking up. She seems to be trying to raise her head up, but it's like there's something restricting her. Given the nails through elbows and hands behind her back, there very well might be.

    The more Finna speaks, the more responsive the woman in the middle is in body language, but no one seems to be taking any action other than that, or saying anything in response.

    A stalemate. Does she do something here, or decide it's not worth the risk and move on?
Finna     This... isn't getting her anywhere. Finna frowns, unnerved at this turn of events. She slowly starts circling around to the back of the posts and takes up position behind the bolts holding the woman in the middle to her post.

    Then.... "HRYAH!!"

    Without any wind-up or warning, Finna lashes out with a hand that's trailing silvery light! Three quick Claw-strikes rend the air with bright lights!

    ... And unless those bolts are made of something INCREDIBLY STRONG INDEED, they are diced into lumps of cleanly cut metal, not really bi9nding ANYTHING.

    She'll quickly move on to undo the bindings on the man on the left as well... but the woman on the right? She's keeping some distance from.
Carna     The woman in the middle collapses when her restraints are cut through, with no attempt to catch herself. She is stopped instead at around throat level, leaving her gagging and sputtering on some unseen third restraint. Her arms are pale, bloodless, strengthless, making her attempts to reach up to whatever is pinning her to the pole by her neck so much useless wiggling of the torso to send limp arms flopping with the movements of the rest of her body.

    The man, on the other hand, when his restraints are removed, immediately turns and tries to kick her to the ground with his powerful legs, and then leap on top of her to pin her there, or at least to seize hold of her with strength that goes well beyond even the impressive frame he possesses. The sudden, rapid footfalls approaching indicate that one of the others, likely the very woman Finna was keeping her distance from, is charging at them at a frenzied, inhuman pace. Even up close now, directly underneath him whether due to being on the ground or looking up into the taller person's face (even if only temporarily), there are still no discernible features.

    It is like some other form of darkness than the surrounding murk of no lights has gathered there, leaving strands of dangling blonde hair around a pitch hole from which ragged, guttural breaths emerge, cold as the Abyss itself.

    His very touch is cold enough to peel skin off of Finna if he manages to contact her before she can start trying to escape.

    There was a trap here. And despite her best precautions, it seems she was caught in it.
Finna All the hair on Finna's neck stands on end the moment she cleaves the man's bindings... and her blood chills. OOPS. MISTAKES have been made. In the seconds between seconds she grits her teeth and LEEEEEEEEEAAAAANS BACK. The kick merely grazes her chin, taking a layer of skin with it from the freezing cold.

    With a whirlwind of motion though she BENDS DOWN with impossible flexibility, body coiling like a serpent ready to strike... and she EXPLODES backwards, up, and away!

    Silvery light gathers in her grasp and in an instant Finna's brought out Moonlit Huntress and drawn back an arrow.

    The arrow's shot at a downward angle for the man's head and in the next moment she touches down and ROCKETS off to the side into a circle-strafing pattern 'round the area, firing yet more arrows at a blinding pace at her other assailant!

    "WHAT KIND OF GRATITUDE IS THIS?! Knock it off or I'll pin you to those posts again!"
Carna     The man takes an arrow through his head, and collapses to the ground with a heavy impact. The huntress lets out animalistic noises from her own shrouded face, as arrows pierce her body as well. She ducks down behind the huge male hunter's body, so that he winds up taking several hits that might have landed on her instead (not that she seems to notice much no matter how the arrows twist and tear through her body, sending cold, black blood splattering on the ground). Is she seeking cover?

    No, she's just taking her knives back from the sheathes at the corpse's waist. If Finna had tried to release the man from the front, he likely would have grabbed and held her with his unbound legs, the clue that he was not fully restrained, right alongside someone of his proportions and strength being held by simple ropes in the first place. How could have been kept tied by such things if he didn't want to be?

    And then, with Finna restrained, the other one would have rushed in, grabbed the knives, and started planting them in Finna's back and digging into her vital organs. It seems so clear now. While releasing the man may have been a mistake, it is not the worst mistake she could have made. There were multiple layers of traps here, set cleverly.

    And now that she has her knives back, both the wounded-and-uncaring woman starts pursuing Finna, still making noises more befitting a beast than a human. But it's highly unlikely that whatever this thing is, it honestly counts as human. Maybe it never did.
Finna "Ghhhhhuuuuu....!" Finna's frustrated at this turn of events. No good deed goes unpunished, it seems! With ordinary arrows only serving to pincushion the man she took out at first, Finna growls.

    "Don't screw with me! Think a mutant Lantern or Unlit or whatever you are can take one of Luna's Chosen?! Bring it!"

    The bow's abandoned back into Elsewhere with another flash of silvery light motes.

    Finna ends her dashing by slamming both hands to the ground to bleed off momentum... and those hands grow hairy rather fast. Fingernails extend into sleek silvery claws. As the hair begins to spread, her body ripples, muscles bulging and tensing and flexing through what little clothes she wears... and silvery light flares across her form. The Moonsilver Tattoos gleam in the light, but...

    Instead of her usual transformation into a wild beastwoman, Finna compresses all of that power. Her limbs remain somewhat more toned, but the foxwoman shift doesn't happen. Instead... her ears and tail just become more pronounced, eyes shift to vulpine slits, and her teeth become sharp fangs.

    What happens next is... quite confusing.

    With clawed hands she pushes off the ground using all fours, transitioning instantly from standing position to NOT THERE AT ALL.

    Instead, a half-dozen blurry Finnas phase in and out of sight within a few seconds on a path to the woman...

    Finna reappears, makes a terrific and overt downward swing and--

    -- and whether the woman takes it, parries, or tries to evade, this does absolutely nothing.

    What she ought to worry about instead is the claws that try to rip into her through the heart from behind and tear whatever's there to shreds!
Carna     The dead woman makes absolutely zero attempt at evasion or blocking. She paid no attention when she was being riddled with arrows, her sole attention on retrieving her knives and then chasing after Finna. Whatever these things are, they seem to have simple programming. The man's was to attempt to restrain Finna by surprise. The woman's is to retrieve her knives and then stab Finna to death.

    Defense seems to be irrelevant to her.

    Finna's arm goes through the woman's torso, the outfit designed for appearances over practicality doing no more to stop that than it did to stop the arrows already piercing her lungs, heart, and so on. And since she is so single-mindedly pursuing Finna with the intent to stab, and her insides are as cold as that man's touch was, she is likely to find those blades stabbing her or at least towards her, while the supernatural chill seeks to penetrate her limb.

    It should only take a moment to realize her mistake, though, and connect the dots. The man died instantly from a headshot, whereas all these torso injuries do nothing. The only part of their bodies that doesn't look completely human is those missing faces. With a powerful tear upwards, Finna just be able to destroy the woman-beast's head. Thankfully, she is unlikely to ever actually see whatever was hidden in those shadows as a result. Probably something sanity-straining.

    And it will free her arm from its prison.

    The pale woman, the only one for whom serious attempts at restraint were made, continues to gurgle and struggle during all this, but eventually she seems to give up and fall limp again.

    Unlike the man, her feet also seem to be bound together with nails through her ankles and knees. Maybe she was simply bait. Someone to distract a rescuer with while the other two came at her from the sides. Maybe she's no more of a person than the ambushers. She's the only one whose face hasn't been confirmed to be missing though.
Finna "Hyaaaah-ah-ah-h-ah!!" COLD! It's been ages since Finna has felt THIS COLD for real. Chilled to the bone, frost forming on her arms and ice biting deep into the limb, worming into muscle and seeking the bone if she were to keep the arm here.

    Thankfully, she doesn't. Seeing that RIPPING A GREAT HOLE through the chest has done NOTHING to stop the thrashing and knife thrusting. Some of which is to her arms and sides. She waves about to narrowly evade a few but two thrusts do peg her in the side and the arm through the woman's chest.

    This is the last straw.

    Biting down on all the pain, Finna makes a ferocious yowl and RIPS UPWARDS with those silver claws, tearing the entire head into three neat slabs of UTTER MESS and sending the woman sailing up and over from the sheer force all at once.

    Finna zips sideways out from under any ensuing shower of guts and starts to wring her arm out, hissing and cursing in one of the hoarser Haslanti tongues.

    It's BADLY frostbitten, the skin all but beyond hope...

    But with another angry hiss, Finna clenches her teeth, focuses her spirit...

    And the frozen, dead flesh sloughs off, replaced from beneath by new growth at an uncanny rate.

    Now the foxgirl's aglow, and breathing a bit more hard, but she approaches the woman in the dress... and, in for a dinar in for a talent, continues her efforts at unbinding her.

    "So dumb and dumber are down, here's hoping you're the real deal." Finna exclaims, a bit warningly...

    "Who the heck set this up? And WHY?"
Carna     The nails through the ankles and knees are extracted, along with the remnants of the metal fragments in the hands and elbows. The one through her throat, connecting her to the pole is removed. The woman in the middle falls forwards then onto Finna, limp, weak, without circulation or blood to circulate. Her ragged, gurgling breaths become a bit less so once there is no longer a foreign object in her throat. Gradually, she seems to be healing or gaining control of her body again. The cursed metal (and now that it has been fully removed, it is clearly cursed from the evil magic drifting up from it in a ghastly vapor not unlike the darkness that shrouded the faces of those two ambushers) dissolves after a time, vanishing into the nothingness of the Abyss that spawned it.

    And then, clicking a bit in her throat as she struggles to swallow, the blonde-haired woman lifts her head and...

    One eye is a pale white, the patterns of the moon's craters upon the pupil. The other is a shining blue like the Earth's oceans. There is no blood in any of her injuries. Just holes.

    She says, "To ensure that you were ready."

    She then melts in Finna's arms, dissolves into liquid that flows down and spreads outwards, forming a pool like a mirror. The fog blows away, revealing that Finna is directly in front of the shrine she came in search of. The trees all around are now actual trees, not mockeries of them. Dead and frozen, but still real wood. Beyond the shrine, floating in the incomprehensible empty space that surrounds Lumiere, is a cathedral-city of staggering proprotions, shining with a golden light, and the familiar shape of the Shrines of Light represented in the top of its uppermost spire.

    In the pool that Finna is now standing or kneeling upon, there is not her reflection, but that of the white-haired girl she has seen before, who invited them to come to the Underworld Moon. But she is grown up now, it seems.
Finna Blink blink at those eyes, Finna's own widening in realization. She WAS expecting a test. It's not the first time she's been tested so, but she does have to wonder what she was even being graded on.

    The moment these ideas cross her mind though... the woman she'd moved to rescue DISSOLVES, prompting a solidly startled yelp and taking a few steps back.

    The Lunar stands now, the rest of her wounds sealed and mending quickly...

    "It was here the whole time?! What a powerful illu..." Movement in the pool brings her gaze down to it... "...sion..."

    A few more blinks, and Finna smiles down at the reflection that isn't hers. "This isn't quite the moon yet... Maretta." The Lunar lightly smirks, pleased to have remembered the name.
Carna     Maretta nods and smiles. "This is an important step. It is the wish of Luna that you take up the mantle of the Assassin of the Eclipse. A role for hunters and huntresses, especially the latter, who eliminate those nefarious ones who would use the night as cover to enact their wicked schemes. Your progress so far has been tracked. You have... Room for improvement. But you accomplished the tasks set before you, and the Moon is very much the symbol of change. You can still change into someone even better suited than you already are."

    She tilts her head. "You made use of the environment instead of just charging in. That was good. You then allowed curiosity and impatience to bypass your better judgment. That is not as good. However, you knew better than to stand and fight, and returned to the path better suited to your talents. That is another point in your favor." She raises a hand to look at the hole that goes through it. "You were cautious and observed your targets before engaging. You noticed the obvious clues, but you missed the subtler ones because you did not think it through. Again, your impatience got the better of you. When you happened upon the weak point of one foe, you did not follow through with the second. You did not even test if it was a weak point for your other enemy before switching to melee combat."

    She smiles at Finna. "But your raw ability was sufficient to secure victory, and you did not suffer serious or lasting injury. You have much potential. What you lack in finesse, you made up for in diversity and strength. If you will accept this mantle, you will receive further training and education as you go along. You will become even more a weapon that will banish the evil from the darkness, and drive it forth so that it has nowhere to hide. No matter what that takes."

    Maretta then looks more serious. "But there was another reason for you coming here and doing this beyond simply testing you. I have been divided. This is only my spiritual self, and one aspect thereof. Those restraints through my arms kept me from acting directly. The ones through my throat prevented prolonged discussion. The ones through my legs restricted where I could appear to you. But my body is still bound by even more powerful bonds. All of we Lords of Silence are bound so. We can not act to save Lumiere as long as we remain caged by our curses."

    She shakes her head, long white hair swaying back and forth. "It will not be a simple matter to reach the Underworld Moon. And when you arrive, you will face even greater challenges. Until I am freed, my own power will be your enemy. I will advise you on whatever I can, but in this divided state, what knowledge I possess is limited. When you were told to meet me on the Moon to learn 'everything', that is what was meant."
Finna At first Finna's gut reaction is to justify herself, but she rather visibly clamps downon this impulse and instead listens. She's learned a few things about maturity from her journeys before rejoining the Lumiere attempt, apparently!

    Before, she would've been spouting off instead of listening to the criticism.....

    "Oooooooof... I'm not so good at the mystical stuff, either. Second-guessed myself with those two, wondered if there was some magic involved in their bindings I couldn't see..." Finna grouches, almost kicking herself for over-analyzing the matter.

    It's been quite often that she takes things at face value and is wrong about it then too!

    Finna's scowling at this result - but it's aimed more inward than anywhere else. She wipes the look away and meets Maretta's eyes for the rest of the explanation.

    "... It's a job that needs doing, and I don't see anyone else stepping up to take it. If I came up against those creatures on my own, anyway..." She grimace-snarls rather viciously. Yeah, she wouldn't let those things do as they please.

    So, this said, Finna nods her head.

    "... I've a way to go before I can match the Elders. Gotta start somewhere!" B this, apparently, she is accepting the statement that she has much to learn, and she bows her head in recognition of that.

    Idly she wrings out the very cold arm, rubbing her wrist, and states, "Could take a while, but I think this ragtag crew of heroes will get everyone unbound and... put back together. Hope none of you've lost all hope yet!"
Carna     Maretta smiles gratefully that Finna agreed, apparently not having just assumed she would. She was free to walk away if that was her decision. "Thank you. I believe you will be a great huntress." She seems saddened then and says, "I can not say what condition the others are in. Our bindings separate us from each other by more than simply space. But as long as the Asher does not give in to despair, there is still a chance. If he falls, so do we all."

    The lake's surface seems to ripple and Maretta turns as though to some disturbance not in Finna's view. She seems somewhat more urgent when she speaks. "Please listen. When you leave here, you will see that the wolves that stalked the forest are now no more than simple deer to you. These deer, wearing the forms of wolves, are no threat to one as connected to the Moonlight as you are. But you must be careful of--" ripples pass through the water again, distorting her words.

    "--and if you ever meet something that looks like a deer but is not, do not--" the ripples come more frequently, making Maretta's reflection change and showing someone standing behind her with weeping black pits for eyes. "--RUN. Did you hear me? Do not try to fight it! RUN!"

    A final distortion passes over the water, and then there is no reflection left in it other than Finna's and her surroundings.