Get Out Of My Head

[Philomel]

- Radasanth -

The blade of white purity that had no name leaned against the wall unsheathed, propped up with point down on the seat beside her. It served as a warning to those who approached to not mess with her, and as a signal to her usual clients not to address her for her services tonight. There was no trace of blood on the blade, or on the hilt, on her body, the table, or near her at all - instead she sat, bold and straight-backed. She was armoured up to the fullest extent, with plated chestplate and leather shoulder guard, not in any way promoting her breasts. With hands folded around the rotund form of the pewter tankard before her the faun-whore looked the image of sophisication and seriousness. Which was what she exactly intended.

Smoothly and unsubtly the hooded man slid onto the seat opposite her. A long deep grey cloak hid much of his body and clothing and face, so all that she could clearly see were the faint symptoms of life, including a vivid pair of almost glowing, shimmering ice-blue eyes. Light bounced off sharply angled cheeks, an untidy fringe of blonde hair and just the very highlights of dull lips. The rest of him was lost in the depths of the hood, but it did not cause Philomel to lose any time with curiosity. She took what she saw, assessed it simply and deduced that he was a Dark Elf, and likely a mage.

Encouragingly the elf leaned forwards, eyes fixated on the faun's. He did not even glance down at her body to see if there was anything below the chestplate, he only stared deeper into her soul. Philomel waited a moment, tilting her head slightly. Momental silence passed painfully like glass shards shot into her heart, until she decided to break it. Her mouth opened.

"Nightingale," he said in a deep, cold, emotionless tone. "You are Nightingale?"

A pause. A blink. She was, of course, taken aback, and sat up straighter, if it were possible.

"Eh, yes, of course," Philomel answered in a flat tone, "What other fauns do you see here with a fucking mythril sword?"

Her snowy blade sparkled justly then, as a glint of light hit it through the window. A cloud let the sun peek perfectly through, and held momentum to identify the weapon. However, at her comment, the Dark Elf was very unamused. A quiet growl emanated from his throat, but he made no lunge for her neck. Instead he just sighed - and icy breath made a cloud in front of him.

"You think yourself capable, but I warn you. This quest is not for the faint-hearted."

"Neither is the Magus Cup, darling, but I entered that." Philomel smirked.

"Yes, and did not even win. Yet you claim to be the greatest at your profession."

In response the faun let out a snort, whispering the next sentence, "What other faun assassin-whores do you know, who are also planning world domination?"

And thus it was the Dark Elf's turn to be taken aback. "World ... domination?"

"Yes, darling. Domination. Now hand me the bloody details."

She slammed forwards her tankard with determination. No liquid sloshed out however, and none stained the bottom. Instead there was a clank of metal on wood, and that was all to show him her readiness.

Silence. Utter silence. Then the Elf began to chortle. Those fat lips, or the little she could see of them, curled into a grin as the beastly being leaned forwards and dumped a crumpled piece of paper into her drinking vessel. As he did his arse left the seat and he rose to stand.

"Well good luck, Miss Nightingale. I wish you luck. Your chosen companions will be with you shortly."

And with that the Dark Elf twisted and sauntered out, the flaps of his cloak barely visible in the Opium Juggler Inn as he exited. No sooner had he spoken than he was leaving, and he disappeared like dust under a bird's wing into the dusk.

The assassin-whore sat there for a moment, gazing down at the paper. She snuffled, then shrugged, and pulled it out. Flattening it before her she read the details quickly, then stuffed it down the top of her chestplate. A smooth tongue ran across her lips, and her eyes settled back on the door. Carefully she resumed her previous position, not even daring to move until they arrived.

They arrived.

Whatever use a werewolf and a black-haired kid might prove to be.

[Hysteria]

A sun filled day. The burning ball of warmth and light hung in the sky casting its gaze across all it touched. Life giver to some, hated revealer of secrets to others. To this boy it was inconsequential. Why would one care about something that could be blotted out so easily? It had its uses though, and right now Talen was lying down on the steps of Citadel basking in its warmth. His eyes were closed, the occasional soft inhale and exhale of breath was the only visible movement. The youth was warming himself up after his last battle. Some monk had seen to it that he should fight in a frozen wasteland.

It was that soft sun's caress and gentle warmth that caused Talen to drift to the edge of dreams. Flashing ideas and thoughts, and catching memories as they washed over the sleeping boy. Thoughts of his life before the Ixian Knights filled his minds eyes. Thoughts of running through streets away from the lawmen. Thoughts of chasing after anyone with a bit of coin in the hope that pity would bestow some of it to him. Those days seemed like a life time ago; had they ever existed? Perhaps it was just another dream.

Talen jerked awake. His small form shot upright and his mind took a moment to catch up. After a wave of confusion passed he glanced at the sun in the sky, it was later than he had intended. He was supposed to be half way across the city at some sleazy dive called the Opium Juggler. He pushed himself to his feet and took off through the square that punctuated the entrance of the citadel. He darted around the people that were idly making their way here and there, on whatever medial errand their boring lives commanded. Talen's thoughts started to tinge with annoyance as he ran.

This will take too long!

Talen twisted on the stop and ran towards the closest building. His feet kicked off the ground and he arched through the air and landed on the side of the building. He didn't stop however, he continued to run vertically up. As soon as he reached the roof he shot off the tiles to the next building. His body flashed from one roof to the next as he darted above the streets. It only took a few minutes of his roof top dashing before he reached the right street. The boy leapt off a building towards the entrance of the Opium Juggler. A man was stumbling out of the door as Talen descended towards it. Deciding that it would be quicker to go through than have the door close and have to open it, Talen launched himself through. Both man and boy tumbled into the establishment, Talen rolling back onto his feet and ending in a standing position as the man he had ran into unceremoniously rolled across the ground and ended crumpled near the bar.

“Personal best!” Talen punched the air as everyone in the bar stared at him in confusion.

The youth glanced around, apparently oblivious to the attention. He found Philomel and his face brightened and his blue eyes shone as he marched up to her table. He went to speak, but his mouth didn't make a sound as he glanced at her sword.

“Ooooooh!” The kid exclaimed, “is that mythril?!”

Talen pressed a hand on the table. A moment later his body was flipping itself and landing on the other side next to Philomel. Talen reached out his hands towards the blade, his eyes wide with wonder again. He stopped suddenly and glanced at the faun, remembering why he was there. His back straightened and his hands shot to his sides of his grey shirt in an attempt at being formal.

“Are you Philomel the...” Talen trailed off, his brow furrowing. He lent into Philomel and cupped a hand against his mouth to hide the next two words, “... the faun-whore?”

[Regal]

"Run boy!" a voice echoed in the woods as a bright orange glow spread throughout the trees. "Don't stop!"

Regal could do nothing but run through the thick brush, sweat dripping from his brow and leaking into his eyes. As a young boy the werewolf scurried through the glowing woods fleeing from whatever was behind him.

"Ma! Pa!" Regal yelled as he looks back to see the woods just behind him engulfed in flames, the heat unbearable. Yelling for the comfort of his parents is all he could do as immanent death chased him. Steadily the flames encroach on the boy as he continues to run until finally circling around him. "Ma!" Regal young and frail voice calls out again as he is stopped by the wall of burning wood around him. The sound of a cracking branch resonates through the flames. Just as he wipes the sweat from his eyes Regal looks up onto to see a tree coming crashing down upon him. One two three...

Regal awoke from his slumber in a pool of his own cold sweat. Eyes agape and panting heavily as he sat up to regain his awareness of his surroundings. His long wolf like fangs bared from his terror, slowly started to revert back to his regular jaw as he clamed himself. From under the sheet he had been wrapped in a small figure started to groggily move. Slowly at first but when full awoken from Regal's abrupt movement, the small critter sprang to life and raced up Regal's chest until uncovered.

"Its ok Fang, It was only me." Regal said as he grabbed the sturdy snout of his faithful companion and nuzzled her close to his bare chest. Fang was a baby wolf cub that had adopted Regal as both his father and best friend. Her ash gray fur felt like a fine cloth against his chest and she was showing no signs of complaint cuddling with her buddy. Only faint whimpers of love for him.

Regal had been contacted for a mission to venture into the Red Forest, most likely due to his fair knowledge of the area. Yet the were to meet in Radasanth, and then travel back to his home. He felt that meeting them on in a common place was better than surprising them once they arrived in Raiarea. So he did indeed embark on the journey to the large city. The trip didn't take him as long as expected as he unintentionally arrived a day early and decided to stay the night in the tavern that he was supposed to be meeting his fellow companions at.

"I guess its time to head down, huh Fang?" He said looking into his wolf cub's eyes. All Fang did in response was begin to wag her tail, all the sign she needed to give. "Then lets go!" He said excitedly as he flung his arm to the side of his bed, fishing for his blue coat and then Ruby. Once he was up and clothed, Ruby strapped to his side, he and Fang left the room walking down the hall and then descending the stairs into the tavern. He was told that the glimmer of a mythril blade would signal him that the Faun had arrived. And sure enough after only glimpsing over the room he saw the blade, even if his heightened sense of smell had already highlighted her in the crowd. Fang started to walk underneath the patron's legs as she crossed the room gaining a solid lead on Regal. The Faun seemed to conversing with a boy, young maybe in his lower teens Regal suspected. Was he supposed to be traveling with he and the faun, what could a boy do...

Regal made his way across the crowded room and staked the table from just around the corner, listening to the conversation. This only to make sure that this was who he needed to meet.

[Philomel]

Her eyebrow slowly raised as she assessed the being before her.

He had entered in the most unconventional way possible, with tumbles and all, causing raucous as soon as he stepped in. One of the pub's necessary drunkards flopped in also, muttering something about "heaven-sent martinis". Artistically and accordingly the two rolled together, causing uproar and disgruntled customers as they went. An attending barmaid kicked the drunkard in the shins before continuing on her way, wiping a table with a spoilt cloth. Rude comments and grumbles rang around for a few moments, but after a fashion they quietened down, as all things must. This left time for the two tangled misfits to get to their boots and collect themselves.

Of course, being a lady of business Philomel's eyes automatically went to the large heavy drunkard. After all he was the one she would go straight for, had she been on working hours tonight. Sloshed out of his face, vaguely aware, purse bulky enough to get him a good few more rounds. And he was richly endowed. Her head tilted slightly, smiling with thoughts of the simplicity of such a client, but she was cut off short by the fleeting glimpse of a hand in her peripheral vision.

Gods be damned. Someone reaching towards her sword. Quickly her hands flashed out, smooth as a snake, to grab her weapon before it was kidnapped, just as she caught a glimpse of the kidnapper.

Pause. Breathe. Blink.

Her eyebrow raised.

Black hair, blue eyes. Looking like a ragamuffin child. He attempted, and successfully completed, some elaborate acrobatics as he asked the most obvious question.

"Are you the faun-whore?"

Her eyebrow fell. And her eyes darkly narrowed. No longer was she thinking about the drunkard and his potential for money. No longer was she protectively aiming for her sword. No, instead she grasped the handle and held the tip of the blade uncomfortably close to the boy's throat. A few inches of air breezed the gap between flesh and blood and finely honed mythril.

"I honestly thought he was bloody joking when he said a kid," she hissed, "Can't believe I am stuck with you. Seriously."

With her spare hand she knocked on the tankard before her. Empty, it rung with the mysticism of a dull bell.

"I am the Nightingale. Call me Philomel. And yes, I am a faun, and a whore. Got any problem with that, midget?"

Teeth grated in her agitation and anger.

"Now you seen a hairy mutt anywhere?"

[Hysteria]

*gulp*

Talen's blue eyes flicked from the sword to the faun's face as he swallowed nervously. His mouth was twisted into a crooked smile, ivory teeth peeking out below quivering lips. She was more aggressive then he thought she would be. A dull memory of the the conversation he had a few days ago creeped into Talen's mind. ”For a thanyne's sake don't make her angry, or touch her sword. Or touch her for that matter. In fact, just arrive, nod politely and then do as she says.”

“I thought you woodland creatures were supposed to be friendly.” Said Talen, promptly forgetting everything that he had just recalled.

A scent reached the boy's nose after Philomel's words. Talen stepped backwards and sniffed the air. There was a scent that was not quite dog, not quite wolf either. It hung in the air like a background noise. Talen wouldn't have picked it up if not for the faun's curse. Talen walked around the table, sniffing as he went. His nose led him to Regal and Talen pointed directly at the man then turned to Philomel.

“This guy?”

[Regal]

"Mutt..." Regal grunted as the boy pointed him out to the faun-whore. "I am no mutt Ma'dam." Regal said as his chocolate colored eyes drifted to make contact with the faun. A few stray strands of his crimson locks swaying in front of his gaze. Then his stair went to the child who seemed more comfortable in a tavern than he should. "But I am who you are looking for. Or at least for the time being I am." He said as he started toward the table.

There was a silence as the air settled between the trio, but there was still one thing pressing on the groups' mind.

"Not what are we all doing here?" Regal asked as he sensed the tension in the tavern.

[Philomel]

The faun devoured the silence like a luvicious man devoured a whore's body. Her elegant fingers twisted around a lock of chestnut hair, now devoid of any of the violet she had begun her life of independence with. It was free and wavy also, not bound into the dreadlocks she had spent so many years perfecting; falling around her shoulders in a burnette waterfall. A smooth tongue ran across smoother lips as her eyes flickered from surprisingly polite boy to patient man-wolf. She let the silence extend, enjoying the delicious taste of the idea that they waited for her in this, and she was in control. Gone was the anger in her eyes - it disapated as soon as the werewolf had made his remark, and her sword arm slowly relaxed. Keeping the spare hand twisting the hair she let her white blade lie on the table, then paused before sitting up, tearing her eyes away and moving into a position of more comfort.

"For both of your information, I am a faun born and raised in this city, not in some remote woodland. However, that is where we are destined."

Her hand raised and slid into the top of her breastplate. From between the cold hard steel and soft leather brassier she tugged out the parchment and then lay it on the table before her. It was dirty and slightly damp from being in such close contact with her flesh, surprisingly so for the short duration of time it had been there, and stood dull and unkempt beside the shiny sword. Carefully with her fingers she flattened it out, placing it between her and the men. Pausing for a moment, she deliberated, then decided and turned it around so the two might read the words.

"We are headed to the Red Forest," the faun-whore said matter-of-factly, in a tone neither bright nor cold. "And the details, that is, the purpose, you can read here. Presumably I have been donated your company for particular services you can provide."

She looked from youth to red-head wolfy, considering both and wondering what gifts they had in store.

"And for both of you, I prefer not to sleep with the people I am on death-work on with. So sorry if you had any hope." Philomel smirked a little, then leant back, allowing the two of them room to read the paper. "There is a boat that will take us three and my other friends directly to Raiaera. It leaves in one hour."

Her arms folded over her chest. She flicked her hair back with a twitch of her head. Woman to men, she watched them carefully, trying to see what the benefits of both might be. The Nightingale waited as they leaned over to read the parchment the Dark Elf had left them, wondering if they would be surprised, disappointed, or downright shitting their pants with fright.

"Red Forest," the paper said, "Go into the mountains and find the Yungenhim Asylum. Watch out for the body-snatchers and the Face-worm. Deader is Firenze Mikado, the Illusionist. Bring back his eyes. Money will be paid on return by a man with a red beret."

[Hysteria]

“Sleep with you? Why would we do that?” Talen gave Philomel a sheepish grin, towing the line between naivety and jest.

Talen's cheeky eyes flicked down to the paper. His eyes hovered over one particular set of words.

“Face worms... are they worms with faces? Or worms that look like faces? Or worms that eat faces? Or wo- gah!”

A swift knock to the head from Philomel ended the youth's verbations. Talen was silent as he and Regal finished reading the parchment. There were no doubts about the dark intent of their mission, nor that the person they were looking for would be a less than a handful. One does not earn the moniker 'the illusionist' by chance.

“One hour.” Echoed Regal.

“I guess then we meet in one hour...” Talen still had both his hands on his head from where the faun had bopped him one, but he seemed oblivious to it as he walked out into the street.


* * * *

The boat was nothing special for a boy that had seen dragons and fought with armadas. It wasn't shabby by any means, just not impressive. It was a good length, cut from fine wood it was built for speed rather than force. From end to end it was about fifteen metres and kept immaculate. Talen hadn't boarded yet. He would claim he was waiting for the others. In actuality he knew that he'd be put to work the moment he boarded. Idle hands unnerve sailors, and Talen was all about idle. So instead he was sitting on the wharf with his feet dangling just above the water. While the others had things to pack, perhaps bills to pay, he had made his way via some food stalls and waited the rest of the time.

When the others arrived Talen was leaning back, staring at the blue sky with a small bag of fruit and salted meat sitting near him. He was the personification of 'travelling light'. He feigned effort as he climbed to his feet and walked towards Regal.

[Regal]

Regal strolled up to the wharf sun beating on his neck, Fang dangling from his shoulder like a rag doll. What a lazy beast, but nothing could be done Regal had adopted her as an infant and she was still young. "Fang..." Regal said as he shrugged his shoulder enough to nudge her awake. She groggily awoke and began to stretch her legs out far out in front of her. "We are about to head home, you need to watch as we do. If we ever are separated you can always go home. I will be there I promise."

As he arrived he noticed Talen, the young boy who was to travel with he and the faun to the red forest. The boy looked like he was prepared for their journey, like Regal he packed light. "There you are." Talen spoke out as he waved to the Werewolf.

"Yeah, I guess we made it before the Faun. Wasn't she supposed to lead the company?" Regal said as he grabbed Fang from his shoulder and placed her on the ground at his feet. She continued to stretch before letting out a big groggily yelp. "I guess we will just have to wait till she gets here." Regal said as he raised his hand high above his head and then rested them on his head.

[Philomel]

Clunk, clunk, clunk.

She strode down the wooden pier with a strut of a proud chocobo. In a way she imagined herself riding one - walking through the streets of Radasanth, watching amusedly at everyones' reactions as they saw a half-goat on a giant flightless bird. The claws of the beast would leave scores in the ground and its beak would be a weapon worthy of any battle. Perhaps she would even go to war on one. She would dress it up in harded leather, pack shin guards and add on spikes. The two of them would race into a bloody fight and slaughter everyone around them through hoof and horn and talon and beak, biting and beating where they went.

Philomel could imagine. But for now she had two other creatues following her, and though neither was useful for riding they still had their benefits. Instead of staring at her in awe many whispered, and some fled, at the sight of the small child dragon scurrying after the faun. Then they gasped as the fox-form Earth Spirit literally bounced from wall to windowsill to cart like a cat, staring at them with eyes of pure intellect. Little burps of flames lade waste to a centimetre patch of grass. Minute scratches left dents in the mortar. Large breasts left a permanent longing desire in the minds of men. Each one had its way, had its duty, and they walked with travel in mind, gathering up their wills to go forth and leave these shores, and kill a madman in a treacherous world.

Purposefully she ascended onto the boat and greeted the young boy and the werewolf with a nod.

"Pleased to see you again," she said, unsmiling. From her shoulder she dropped her back, and let it go clunk on the wooden deck. "This is Delath and Veridian. The friends I mentioned who would come."

Up behind her, along the gangplank, the black hatchling scurried. He made his way with squeaking timidity to a corner of the boat by the stairway leading down below, and curled there tightly. Various sailors and the captain himself, looking rather taken aback with the suddeness of the arrival of the faun, screamed or let out alarmed voices, before she shrugged.

"Delath won't hurt you," she waved at the dragon, "He's just a babe. Now, Captain Sommers, are we ready to leave?"

The captain, dressed in classic tricorn hat and black naval jacket, kept staring at her avidly. He paused, then pulled an ugly face and nodded.

"On yer own death bed, faun-whore," he garbled, and he set his men into motion.

They scurried over the deck like a swarm of ants, collecting ropes and gathering in the sails, hauling everything ready for launch. With deftness they avoided the slightly singed ground around the shy, burping baby dragon, and gulped as the russet form of the fox leapt on at last minute. Philomel smiled at the preciseness of the action with a pleasing twinkle in her eye, then turned to her companions.

"Shall we go below for tea?" she suggested as the ship pushed itself away from the harbour, and out into the open ocean of uncertainity.

[Hysteria]

Talen returned the wolf-man's greeting. Their conversation was cut short by the tour de force that was the faun. Her voluptuous swagger was followed by more than a few eyes, and seemed fitting as they boarded the ship. From the look of the captain and the crew the ship was not against a bit of privateering. Of course, such an accusation was not one to throw around lightly. There was little left for the youth to do by follow, and Talen shot Regal a resigned shrug and did so. Up the plank and on deck he felt more invisible than normal. Eyes followed the faun, and left the boy alone. It was to be expected when any woman, or at least any creature with the woman part at the top, entered a ship. For a moment Talen thought to changing shape to one that might capture the limelight, but shook the idea from his head.

Their group, nor far more animal than human, filed down off the deck. In Talen's mind it was for more than just their comfort. First, them standing around deck with nothing to do, and no idea how to do it would get them in the way. Second, Philomel couldn't distract anyone with a few planks of wood between her and them. At least, not without at least trying.

Below deck was not quite as cramped as expected. There however was the distinct smell of people living too close together. Talen collapsed in a seat in something like a mess table and plonked his bag on top. While Phi was talking about tea Talen turned his eyes to the pets she had come on board with. The fox was one thing, but the dragon was a tad bit rarer. Talen lazily followed the creature as it made its way around the room. It was presently occupied by a candle, staring at its flame as if it could see some family resemblance.

The tea came, much to Talen's surprise. The man who delivered it didn't bother speaking, instead leaving the iron pot and a few wooden mugs. Talen poured a few cups, then smelt his own. It was surprisingly good; no doubt stolen from an Akashima trading ship on the way to Scara Brae. The route was heavy with 'privateers', but the tea was hard to sell on the black market.

[Regal]

The endless motion of the seas lifting and lowering the vessel was relentless. To a Werewolf, a creator of the forest, this was unfamiliar and unwelcome. Sitting at the makeshift mess table Regal watched as the tea in his cup moved with the waves outside. A light steam rose from the surface of the tea as it mesmerized the soldier. Regal’s gaze began to drift past the raising steam, unfocused as the endless movement began to take its toll on him.

Regal reached forward and grabbed the cup that Talen had poured for him. With a gentle swish he swirled the tea and then took a quick swig. The hot tea filled his mouth leaving a distinct aftertaste of lavender and spices undistinguishable.

“That’s a rich flavor.” Regal said as he swallowed. Talon across from him nodded his head and smiled at the Werewolf. “But I’m not one for just sitting around. I’m heading up top to see what I can do.” He said as he placed the cup back upon the table and stood up. As he did the ship abruptly jerked down and with it Regal lost his center of gravity and fell into the table. Catching himself with his arms he looked up to the group who clearly just saw him blunder.

Quickly recovering Regal moved to the ladder leading up to the upper deck. As he climbed the smell of fresh sea water wafted into his nose burning the hairs. Helping on deck would only be fitting for him, he wasn’t much for conversation.

[Philomel]

Philomel watched as the wolf-man left the lower deck, going to the upper floor. She frowned a little, cupping her own tea between her hands. Tilting her head slightly she looked to the boy and addressed him with a kind but serious tone.

"Does he get seasick?"

Her eyes looked over the young thing who apparently deemed himself worthy to join her and the wolf on this trip. She had already gotten the sense of him being something more than a mere toddler, but rightly - at least in her mind - she was still unsure. Both of these males would have to prove themselves before she trusted them entirely, hence the practise of bringing along Delath also. He was an extra line of security for her, a warning to them not to mess with her, and she trusted in her own bones that it would work.

The child seemed to not know. Else, if he did, he was firmly cut off by the arrival of the First Mate. He was a bold chap by nature, with fiery red curling locks and a long dusty overcoat. Curled under his arm, between body and crux of elbow, he carried sheaves of rolled papers. Hobbling towards the table where Talen and Philomel sat he grunted, then deemed it his right to take a seat with them. Kicking out the stool Regal had previously occupied, he slumped beside them, then cascaded his papers over the table. As they rolled they upset Talen's tea, spilling it across the wooden floor.

"Careful!" Philomel said, shocked. Her tone alerted both Veridian and Delath, who turned their respective scaled and furry heads in her direction.

The First Mate seemed little concerned. He just gruffly grunted a fake apology, and pushed the teapot out of his way. It was forced to the side, clonking with the wooden mugs. Grabbing a scroll of paper he rolled out a map flat on the surface of the table, and stabbed a piece of coast with a stubby finger.

"Thar," he grumbled, "Cap'ain is gonna drop yeh off thar. No chances, no secon'-wan's. Thar and no-whar else."

Once again Philomel found herself frowning, but she leaned over to look at the piece of paper. Her chin raised slightly as she angled to look at where he indicated. Her eyes looked as her voice lay silent for a while, taking in the land and the opportunity. Quietly she nodded, and agreed to the port.

"Fine. How long?"

"Dunno," the Mate replied. "Bu' yeh no to ge' in our way. Stay 'ere. Bedrooms tae the back." He nodded to the hollow back of the cabin, to where a door sat snuggly in the depths of the place. "Days, mehbe a week."

Philomel frowned, but took the timing into her stride.

"Well then," she agreed, "If that is the best you can do." She looked over at Veridian. "Darling, could you go find Delath dinner?"

The Earth Spirit nickered, then grinned, showing his pointed teeth. He bound fowards and ascended the ladder as skilled as any humanoid. Disppearing and taking the red-orange from the dull brown of the lower cabin he went in search of rats and cats and other stowaways, all to feed up the baby dragon.

[Eli]

Eli froze. He had felt the subtle wrongness of the thing in the doorways footsteps through his link with Snakey. Whatever it was, it was not entirely at home on boats and was definitely not a fox. Regardless of what it was, with his luck it was a demon conjured specifically to beat up people who stuffed their pockets with stolen tea and ham, it had caught him trying to figure out how to fit a second ham in his rucksack without having to leave some of his double stolen tea.

"So uh... I don't suppose you'd fall for the ole' 'look over there' trick." Eli said. The not-fox cocked his head and looked at Snakey who had remained his usual implacable self. "Really? Well screw you too then buddy." Eli said to no one as he resumed his larceny.

The not-fox turned and headed back the way it had come. Eli resolved to ignore it and go back to hiding with his feast. But alas, it was not to be. Snakey was already following the creature. No intent to kill came over the link and Snakey usually warned him about these things. Eli rolled his eyes. Another one of Snakey's crusades then. The little blight had such a savior complex. Eli would just have to carry the second ham then.

Eli followed Snakey following the fox following it's purpose to the room where Eli's soon to be compatriots were. The fox went in. Snakey went in. Eli waited and felt out the room through the link. A kid who smelled like a lot of things, none of them 'kid. A faun strapped for bear and openly concealing a dozen or so weapons. Assassin. Odd. She was radiating stupid amounts of heat. And a dragon. A little one, but a dragon nonetheless. Eli hoped Snakey knew what he was getting them into. He walked in through the door. He found the humanoids staring at the scene before them. A meter long viper was winding it's way towards the table, making a beeline for the unusually warm faun. It politely endured the curious snuffles of the baby dragon. Eli took a moment to stare as well and marvel at how easily Snakey had been bought.

"I'm Eli. That's Snakey, apparently we're here to help, and don't worry about the snake, assassin, he just wants to be warm." Eli said to the room at large and the faun in particular. He sat down and put his feet up ignoring his hosts movements of caution. The fox and and dragon put their heads on his lap. The dragon was attempting to arrange it's reptilian features into something resembling cute. The fox looked at Eli pointedly and then at the ham Eli had placed on table. Eli broke immediately.

"Have it then you wretched scamming beasts." he chortled handing the meat over. "So what's the caper?"

[Hysteria]

Talen’s face darkened as his tea was spilt before getting to drink it. It seemed the way of such things, to show the youth something he wanted just within grasp, then throw it on the ground. Remembering himself, and his company a smile returned to his face and he shrugged. He only partially paid attention as the first mate of what he assumed was a pirate ship talked to the Philomel.

When Eli entered the cabin, and broke their discussion, Talen was slouched in the chair with his head dangling off to the side looking at the dragon. The little fella looked and acted more like a scaled dog than the giant dragons of legend, and Talen was somewhat enamoured by it sniffing around the room. He only reluctantly twisted his head to look at Eli.

“Say’s the man carrying a pilfered ham.” Talen interjected at Eli’s claim he meant no harm.

The first mate’s eyes bulged at the sight of the thief. It would be moments before he raised the alarm, moments before a whole lot of trouble descended on the group. Talen bolted upright and placed a hand on the pirate’s shoulder. His grip was strong, keeping the pirate from moving and turning his attention from Eli to Talen. The youth’s face still bore the smile, though it was wider, showing off his glossy white teeth and big blue eyes.

“Don’t go spoiling this fine conversation.” Talen’s eyes bored into the pirates. With his other than Talen pulled out ten gold pieces and dropped them on the table. “This should cover the two hams, and the board for our visitor. Isn’t that right my gentle sailor?”

Talen’s face lightened, his grip relaxed and the gold sparkled.

“Yar, it be a decent trade.” The first mate grabbed the coins and stood awkwardly. A final glance towards Philomel and he withdrew from the room, making sure to throw a poisonous glance towards Eli before leaving.

“I believe some of that ham is mine? Our dragon friend has a mighty appetite” Talen gestured for Eli to give some of the ham to Delath.

[Regal]

The salty sea air singed Regal’s nose as he rose to the upper deck, Fang still residing within his blue coat hiding from the bright sun and blowing wind. From the second he let his eyes adjust Regal could see one of the best functioning crew’s that he had ever encountered. Like twenty or more monkey like men climbing the netting of the ship and pulling the ropes to the sails. Non seem to mind much each and every time the ship hits a rough patch of water and shakes to hell.

“Well Fang let get to work.” Regal said to his chest, and with his chest obviously not wanting to respond. Fang was no stranger to work but upon the rough sea she must have caught a spell of laziness. “Fang, c’mon if you expect me to let you just curl up and not pull your own wait you sorely mistaken.” Regal said as he unbuttoned his coat and from it Fang dropped like a flailing mutt.

Fang being the slick white wolf she was quickly collected herself and landed on her feet, her eyes looking up to her ‘father’ as if to say “Why man… why.” But before her inner monologue was to become obvious to Regal, he carelessly removed his jacket and tied one arm of it to a nearby banister to keep it from flying away in a mighty gust of wind. Fang quickly was on his heels as he ran over to the nearest group of men pulling a rope.

The rope looked to be designed to hoist the main sail if it was not needed, as the water was the rough element today the main sails were not benefiting the ship. The men all grabbed hold of the rope working with the few who have already climbed the ship and were pulling from up top.

“Heave!” The man seeming to run the crew yelled as everyone started to pull the robe back. Regal eager and will hopped on grabbing the rope at the end, Fang pulling as well with her jaw like a chew toy. The pirates running the ship all seemed to welcome the werewolf and his pup’s help as before he knew it. He had been ushered all-round the ship helping where ever he could.

[Philomel]

Delath snapped up the proffered ham extremely happily. His jaws snapped open, then closed, open then closed, chewing the meat in the back of his canines. Veridian watched him, a little disappointed to see that the hatchling dragon was not going to share, so turned to Philomel, dissatisfied.

"Here," the faun-whore said, taking out her iron steak knife. With it she carved off half the hunk of her own piece and threw it to him. He blinked, then lunged forwards at the last second and snatched it out the air. "So," Philomel continued, turning back to the other people in the room. She looked from the new human to the black-haired boy, "Do you know all the details, or do you still yet have questions?"

"Your dragon has eaten all the ham," was the only comment.

She furrowed her plucked brow, frowning for a moment, before nodding. "Yes, he has eaten much of it, yet you all have your own piece. Now, questions, and I will answer them as best as I can."

And I, Veridian suggested also, yet of course the others could not hear him.

There was much confusion. Manys seconds of silence before Philomel decided to move, standing up onto her hooves.

"There will not be much more travelling to do. If you want to rest, rest. If you want to eat, eat. However, for now ... you," she rounded on Eli, "What are you doing here, you and your snake? I am sure you are wondering why a faun, a boy and a werewolf are travelling on a pirate ship, yet I might ask the same as you."

[Philomel]

Within a few days the company reached the shores of Raiaera. It could have taken them weeks, yet the wind had been in their favour and the weather decided to be meek for the kindest part. Philomel had explained everything clearly to the individuals, and even told the new boy. He seemed unconvinced at first, but a few conversations between the magical snake and Veridian had lead to some sort of understanding. There was an uneasy peace through the people, one that settled and remained there for the rest of their short voyage.

The werewolf spent much of his time on deck, and Philomel herself honed her fighting skills. By midday each day she had gone through fifteen practise maneouvres that the old warrior, her first teacher, had taught her, and meditated under the heat of the sun. A prayer to Drys was due at every lunch, and then more hours of perfecting her knife-throwing. Sometimes the other comrades and the sailor pirates watched, sometimes they joined in. Most of all they just stared at the strange faun wondering what was going on, and why such a woman had a pet dragon in the first place.

Stepping down from the ship she gave one last tip to the captain, and turned her back. Behind her trailed the rest of the troupe, and she did not bother much to check if they were all coming. Before them, stretching for miles and miles, was the Red Forest, alive with dangers and murderous plants. Inside it, somewhere, was a maximum security mad house, in which lived their target. How dangerous he was, exactly, Philomel did not know, but it was all part of the fun of the plan.

Drawing her keris dagger she slowly turned, following the mouth of the river back up towards the sea line where they had come from. Her eyes drifted over her four fighter compadres, and their associated familiars, lined up for this mission of death-defying assaults. Or, rather, death-bringing. On her face a smile slowly grew as she assessed them, and the forest, and their chances of survival, and with the tip of her dagger she swept her plait over her shoulder.

"So we head due north from here," she proclaimed, "Following the river, then heading into the mountains. If any of you are yellow bellies, then you are welcome to go back with the ship. I, for one, am continuing. I hold no responsibility for your lives."