DKMortals/SessionSixty-One

[ST] A merciless wind howls through the night, knifing through even the thick clothing of the Once Dead. As Morta and Wheel form up in ambush, Avir stands before the Temple of the Quiet. Even now, the flames unleashed by one of the Dogs are spreading, bright fingers of death fanning across the temple's thatched roof as screams rise within. The door has been locked and barred with a heavy piece of splintered timber.

[ST] Five of the Dogs face Avir down, four men and a woman. All of them wear the same shoddy armor, carry the same ill-made and rusty weaponry. Their exposed flesh is covered in dirt, welts, lesions. Their eyes are somehow both jaundiced and mad, alive with a frantic, terrified energy. The firelight flickers across the glazed eyes in the Gouger's jar as he reverently sets it aside in the snow. His own dull brown eyes seem equally dead, but his mouth curls up in a broad grin.

"Well," the Gouger says. "Your move."

[Avir] "Kill the dogs, demon."

[Avir] Green eyes in the darkness atop the burning roof, and then a joyous hooting noise and the flash of white fangs.

[Wheel] With effort, he stops himself from backing away and giving himself away. What the hell was that? It was nothing like the ghosts.

[Avir] Avir retreats several feet, drawing his sword. With any luck, the demon would kill the dogs. Instead of Avir, or his comrades, or the Quiet in the burning church. Already its stench is almost unbearable.

[ST] "What in the green hell is that?" Morta blurts, horrified.

[ST] The Dogs shout in alarm as they look up, spotting the creature. All of them quail, except the Gouger, he only smiles more widely.

[ST] "Brought friends, have you?" he asks in his high, foppish voice, looking up at the demon. He reaches down to draw a short, flat, ugly blade like a meat cleaver. "You're not the only one. Crimson Duke! I need you!"

[ST] The air behind the Gouger's shoulder begins to shimmer, to darken, and then it -snaps- into being. A tall, humanoid figure stands behind the Gouger. It is nearly eight feet tall, its frame sticklike and scarecrow-thin beneath a red buff jacket. Its head is nothing but an indistinct, shadowy smear.

[ST] A pair of baleful white orbs burn within that patch of shadow, and below them, a pair of bright, carmine-colored lips quirk up. Razor sharp claws flex. From its left hand, Avir can spot the slow drip of blood. Steam rises from a growing crimson patch in the snow.

[Avir] "Bloody Hand," Avir greets it courteously. "I don't suppose you'd be interested in transferring your loyalties to a more..sophisticated killer?"

[Avir] "That one fast nears its expiration date."

[ST] "More sophisticated than me?" the Gouger blurts. "Not bloody likely." Behind him, the flames spread.

[ST] "Indeed," the Duke observes. "The Gouger has been a source of much fascination. Look at all the eyes."

[Avir] "But then, I suppose you're not a very sophisticated spirit," Avir says, rather condescendingly, as if the Gouger hadn't spoken. He curls his lip at the jar of eyes.

[ST] "I do not truck with the spawn of Malfeas," the Duke continues, flexing his claws. "Gouger... if you wish me to fight this one, I will require recompense."

[ST] "FINE!" the man snaps, visibly irritated for the first time. "Just help me!"

[Wheel] His hand tightens on the hammer's grip, creaking slightly. He had to hope for their evil to best the other. And kill who he could. He could still manage that.

[ST] The Bloody Hand raises its hands above its head, blood dripping heedlessly into its own face, and springs aloft to land atop the burning meeting house, spindly legs splaying out in an insectlike squat. With little formality, it lunges toward the Blood Ape, clawed hands raking furrows through the burning thatch.

[ST] Hooting, the demon backpedals through the thatch, the swipe opening up a thin cut across its muscled shoulder.

[Wheel] Destroy the master, maybe that would help. Or maybe the demon would want vengeance, or blood. But it had asked payment when it joined the fight, maybe depriving it of that would get it to leave. And he rather wanted Gouger dead.

[Wheel] He lurches from hsi corner silently, hoping to have another few moments of inattention, smashign the hammer down at Gouger as he watched his beast fight.

[ST] The Gouger seems to have some sixth sense, moving smoothly out of the way of a blow that would have taken his head clean off, a spray of snow flying up to momentarily mask the two men. He laughs in sudden delight.

[ST] Morta darts through the snow, hurtling the corpse of one of the fallen Quiet to clash with the Dogs surrounding the building.

[ST] The female Dog screams shrilly, falling back with her left hand missing, stump squirting blood wildly.

[ST] "Lot of blood," Morta says conversationally.

[ST] Atop the burning temple, the Bloody Hand pursues the hounded ape, laughing with delight. It leaps high, spinning around like a top before descending upon the ape in a whirlwind of claws.

[ST] The ape bellows in rage, clawed fingers tearing furrows of thatch, spittle flying.

[Avir] Avir launches himself at the Gouger. He could guess what Wheel was thinking; he thought it himself. The Bloody Hand was and inconvenience. And the Gouger's soul chained and enslaved in the Underworld would be some consolation for this fucking nightmare.

[Avir] The Gouger instinctively moves to ward off the blow, raising his glass of eyes. Avir's cut goes straight through the glass, shattering the jar and sending rolling eyeballs and preservation fluid spattering over the snow. The Gouger shrieks, staring at his trophy puddling at his feet; he seems not to have noticed the long shard of glass embedded in the back of his hand.

[ST] Atop the burning temple, groaning now with the stress, the Blood Ape tenses, hoots, and springs. In midair, as it is about to collide with the Bloody Hand, it suddenly flickers and seems to become many apes, dozens of simian claws scratching and tearing at the spirit of murder.

[ST] The Bloody Hand reels back, grunting in what might be pain, blood flying, spraying wildly, hissing and popping in the flame as the brutal and much more unrefined claws of the demon tear into it.

[ST] "My eyes!" the Gouger screams, suddenly losing much of his composure, becoming a howling demon. They're spilling across the snow, broken, ruined. Against that, the pain in his hand is nothing. "My eyes! My fucking eyes! I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

[ST] He screams like a burning animal as he lunges for Avir, his cleaverlike blade flashing as he slashes frantically, heedless of his own protection

[ST] In his relentless frenzy, his flashing blade flying wildly, he chops deeply into his own leg, shearing through the flesh just above his left knee in a spray of blood, howling already with so much agony that it's doubtful he even feels it.

[ST] The Dogs advance. One remains behind to guard the entrance to the burning temple, betraying cruelty even now. Two more move towards Wheel with intent, their ugly blades glimmering in the fire. The timbers of the temple give an ominous snap. The barred door leaps, shakes as the people inside pound at it frantically

[Wheel] They caught him while he was trying to raise the hammer up again. He turned slightly to take their blades squarely on his armor, havign to hope neither of them could shift fast enough to catch a gap.

[Avir] Avir falls back in a panic towards the door of the temple, blood dripping from the front of his shirt. The peronelle shivers in pain as it is rudely hacked through. He tears his eyes only briefly from the monster pursuing him, long enough to catch sight of the guard. He almost growls in rage.

[Wheel] Their swords scrape raggedly accross his armor and he steps past them, ignoring the lackeys for now. The Gouger was looking the wrong way, still howling after Avir. Wheel didn't intend to give him a chance to learn.

[ST] "Your eyes!" the Gouger screams, advancing on Avir. "I will have ALL your fucking EYES!"

[Avir] Avir sees the great shadow of Wheel's maul looming behind and smiles, just smiles.

[Wheel] He overswings slightly, the face of his hammer shearing down in front of the Gouger's head rather than on top of it. The haft just behind the hammer's head bit through the Gouger's head, crushing a diagonal through it, from behind his ear to the opposite temple. His eyes stared, still open, as everything behind them was pulverized.

[ST] The Gouger's hands pinwheel at nothing, his weapon falling from his fingers, his mouth opening dumbly. Then, he falls, dead as so many had hoped.

[ST] Morta continues to attack the wounded Dog, pinning her down with a rapid volley of slashes. The woman retreats, stump gushing blood, whimpering desperately as Morta chases her down.

[Wheel] Wheel spit on his corpse, triumphant righteousness flooding him with zealous joy. THis is what he had been meant for.

[ST] Atop the flaming temple, the Bloody Hand crouches, gathering its power, and springs. It crashes into the Blood Ape's flank with a sound like a branch cracking, slashing wildly with its claws as the pair fall, crashing into the snow with enough force to send a geyser of powder flying skyward

[ST] The struggling pair roll over in the snow, screeching, howling inhumanly, dark, tarry blood spraying wildly.

[Avir] Avir charges the guard at the temple door. The sheer fury of his lunge makes the guard take a step back, before hurriedly raising his sword. "Get the door open!" Avir growls under his breath.

[Avir] He manages to give the guard a nasty slash across the wrist, but his next blows is deflected by the clumsy plates of metal that constitute his armor.

[ST] The guard is a touch too slow, but still manages to deflect the blade enough that he takes only a nick on his forearm. "Guys!" He shouts "Help! They got Gouge!"

[ST] The Dogs leap at the Once Dead, their rusted blades flashing desperately. Wheel finds himself pinned between two of them who chop methodically at his thicker armor, while Avir's victim springs back to attack him.

[ST] The Blood Ape springs free, skidding wildly across the snow before coming to a stop by slamming its foot into a Quiet corpse. The spine snaps audibly. The Blood Ape exhales in a spume of steam, gathering itself, preparing.

[Wheel] He growls at tehm, turnign, trying to unbalance them with teh haft of his hammer without unbalancing himself with a full strike. "Trying to get yourselves killed?"

[Avir] The Dog attacking Avir pales as his blade seems to ripple into Avir's neck. He draws back his weapon and Avir's throat is unmarked and whole. Avir grins nastily.

[ST] "Not trying," Morta says grimly, as another swipe with her blade robs her opponent of an ear. The woman shrieks in horror. "Succeeding."

[ST] The Bloody Hand leaps forward with a hiss, its claws shearing deeply into the Blood Ape's flesh. Dark, hot blood sprays, and the ape screams in pain, it is badly wounded

[Wheel] He elbows one of the circling dogs away, swinging his shoulders around to get a view of the chaotic battle. His armor restricted his neck movement, a fact he didn't regret after the number of swords that had scraped along the extra protection.

[Wheel] The Gouger's demon was winning, sending sprays of whatever was fighting for them accross everyone else. He'd finished the GOuger, it was time to finish the Gouger's evil. He let the dogs have his back as he vaulted the Gouger's fat corpse to slam the hammer down on the Bloody Hand.

[ST] The Bloody Hand staggers forward, screaming, something deep within it breaking with a brittle crunch. It bows forward, spindly limbs flailing, then straightens, blood dripping from its hand and beneath the hem of its coat.

[Avir] Avir's skin seems to shiver. Then a psudopod emerges from his cheek, and then it becomes almost a growth, sliding down his flank and meandering to the door. Two eyes swivel nervously in an amoeba-like puddle of flesh. It crawls up the front of the door and seems to almost ooze into the crack. Fleshy psuedopods wrap around the bar holding the door shut and lift it.

[Avir] For the first time in months, cold air touches Avir's skin. It is pale from its long months under cover. He shivers, feeling naked and vulnerable. He fixes a grin on his face as he regards his opponent. "Come on then, if you can."

[ST] The Peronelle stretches itself so thinly it almost becomes transparent, straining mightily. The bar slips off, crashing to the ground with a thud. The door opens, revealing a crowd of horrified Quiet, who recoil from the strange thing, screaming

[Avir] "Out!" Avir roars at them. He points his sword in a direction there are no Dogs to hinder them. "THAT WAY!"

[ST] The come out, screaming wildly, stumbling, shrieking. Some of the children fall, their parents stopping to help them.

[ST] *they

[Avir] He throws himself once again at the guard. He doubted he could kill him in the next six seconds, but he could damn well give him soemthing to think about besides slaughtering the last survivors as they run.

[Avir] He moves smoothly past the Dog's guard, and guts him. The red tip of Avir's sword emerges from the Dog's back, and they stand face-to-face, close enough that Avir's breath warms the dying man's face. The last thing the Dog sees in Creation is the peronelle oozing its way up Avir's side and rippling horribly onto his face. He sees the eye of the peronelle blinks on Avir's nose, and then he is dead.

[ST] The Quiet race past the display, desperate to escape the flaming deathtrap, shutting their eyes in horror at the scene outside. A young woman staggers, slips on something, and goes down in the slurry of glass and eyes that mark the Gouger's shattered jar. She screams in horrr.

[ST] *horror.

[ST] The Blood Ape screams and lunges, flaring, splitting into mirror images again as it falls upon the bloody hand. The strange creature raises its arms, trying to defend itself, and then they break with a sharp brittle sound as the Blood Ape falls atop it, rending, tearing, ripping out strips of strange, smoky guts.

[ST] At the last moment, the Bloody Hand's carmine lips open wider, wider, wider, revealing a fanged maw half the size of its head, unhinging like a snake's. It lunges up as it dies, teeth gnashing, tearing out the throat of the Blood Ape.

[ST] Morta springs forward, her blade tracing a bright line across the neck of the wounded Dog. The woman drops, throat gushing wildly as the Ape and the Bloody Hand collapse atop each other.

[ST] The remaining two Dogs have seen enough. Without another word, they turn, fleeing into the night.

[Avir] Avir looks after them. He feels tired, dead tired. He looks wearily at Morta and Wheel. "We should go after them. Not let them report."

[ST] The Quiet refugees fall to the ground, many of them weeping, horrified. Others simply stand and stare into the night, blank-eyed, empty. Several of them cluster together, roped together, sobbing thickly. They are all, women, old men, children alike, missing their eyes. Dried blood crusts their cheeks.

[ST] Morta nods thinly, wiping her sword off on the fallen body of the Dog she has slain.

[ST] The Dogs shrink in the distance, running full out. And then the glowing form steps around the corner, its spectral sword flashing, shearing through the throats of the fleeing mortals.

[Wheel] His lip curls. "In the woods without their fellows they'll be easy meat." They had some time to bind their wounds and gather elk to ride, but they'd need to leave soon.

[ST] The ghost stands there for a moment, red hair streaming, looking at the Quiet, then nods slowly, and steps away, shimmering into invisibility.

[Wheel] He pokes his hammer into the frothing puddle of blood and viscera that was the remnant of the demons. "What was that thing, those things?"

[Avir] Avir just feels exausted. The bottle bug moves inside him, but it, too, is sluggish, as if at the limit of its power. "Ah. Good. Useful of them."

[Avir] "Monsters." He looks at mutilated Quiet with dead eyes. "Does it really matter? We should take them with us. Take them to the Quiet back at the Emerald. They look after each other, right?"

[ST] "Some of these aren't going to be looking after anything," Morta says flatly. There is no hint of humor in it.

[ST] "This treatment was savage."

[ST] There are perhaps fifteen or twenty of the Quiet here, of various ages. They seem utterly withdrawn into themselves, blank and broken.

[Avir] "Yes." Avir bangs his sword against the temple; blood flies off. Several Quiet flinch at the sound. He slides the sword into its sheath; that was as much cleaning as he was ready for right now. "Not much we can do for them now." His lips curl back. "Except make the Dogs and their Shanarian masters pay in full measure for what was done to them."

[Wheel] "They're safe for the moment. There's food, shelter here. Nearby villages are like as not infested with the same vermin, from what they said. We need to report."

[Avir] "...Right. We'll leave Helgara here. She might have enough sense to keep them out of trouble."

[ST] "I don't know how safe they are..." Morta says. "The Dogs spoke as if there were many more of them. A wing, at least."

[Wheel] "Yes, but they seem to be carefully spreading over the land. I bet they have this village ticked off and the rest of them won't bother coming here. At least not yet." THe ghosts had said a battle would happen here soon, but there was no reason to suspect more dogs would show first. And besides, that was the intelligence they most needed to tell the generals. Someone else must surely have picked up and reported the dog

[Avir] Avir rubs his forehead. "In that case...Astrid is carrying a report. One of us can follow with an update. But I don't mean to leave these people to the Dogs."

[Wheel] "Astrid is on foot. We need to send someone by Elk. Maybe multiple messengers, incase one runs into teh Dogs moving about.

[ST] "Are these all the Quiet? We should at least do a head count." Morta sighs. "The other Haslanti are all dead. They only kept me because of the tattoo. What they thought I could tell them."

[Avir] "Fine!" Avir snaps. "You go. Morta goes- she knows the most of what they're up to in any case."

[ST] From among the Quiet, a woman approaches. She looks about thirty, with a plain, honest face. Blood is running from her broken nose, making her voice thick and stuffy. "I... I merely wanted to.. to thank you. For saving. For saving what you could."

[Avir] Avir turns. He bows his head slightly. "I regret that we could not do more."

[Wheel] He tries not to smile. Wouldn't fit the form of the thing. But this was his due, too. A hero to protect the people. Maybe staying wouldn't be so bad.

[ST] "More than many." She turns away, wiping at her tears. "My mother always said that this was a cursed place. That we should not have come here."

[Wheel] "Maybe you're right, maybe they do need guards here. A message is a peaceful thing. Maybe one or two of them could run it in our stead, so that we'd be free to stay here and protect their emerald?"

[Avir] "War touches every place." Avir says, as gently as he could. He sounds awkward. "It was not the ghosts who hurt you." He turns to Wheel almost in relief. "Perhaps. But I think Morta should go as well, if she agrees to it- you are right that intelligence is valuable, and she has more of that than us."

[Avir] His lips twist at the unintentional pun.

[ST] "I will go." Morta's mouth purses. "I have bad memories of this place. As they do, I expect." She tosses her head at the Quiet.

[ST] "We cannot stay here," the Quiet woman seconds. "Not now. Not now. It is what my people call a Dwimlaik, a place of sorrow. It would be a mistake to tempt fate and remain."

[Avir] "Then Wheel and I will escort you to the Emerald."

[ST] She nods. "I will... try to make us ready. Soon."

[ST] "Many are... hurt." She struggles to smile, and a moment later her face collapses in on itself. "Badly. I. We must do what we can."

[Avir] "Yes. I don't imagine there's anything we can.." He cuts himself off from expressing his uselessness. "Let us know if there is any assistance we can provide."

[ST] She merely nods, drifting away. She stops by a group of crying children, wrapping them in her arms as they press their faces into her long skirt.

[Avir] Avir stares after her for a long minute. Then he turns to Wheel. "I'll get a shovel. Even Quiet leave hungry ghosts."

[ST] Gradually, the Quiet begin to emerge from hiding, in fits and starts. Most arrive without comment. One tall girl staggers like the dead, her left leg wet with blood. A young man carries the severed head of his elk aimlessly. Eventually, Helgara and the captives rescued earlier arrive. The young Quiet woman stops to kiss and spit upon every Dog corpse she sees. The other Quiet, at least those still in control of their faculties, cast her sidelong, terrified looks.

[ST] Hands find shovels. Work starts.

[Avir] lAvir can only feel awkward. He digs readily enough, but even so he can see some of the Quiet cast unreadable glances. He stands among people who can't possibly mean him harm, and yet his shoulders itch. A child has taken to following him around. She sits quietly beside the grave and watches him. She stares at his face as he drinks water, and she trots after him as he goes to fetch more wood for the pyre. She

[Avir] hasn't said a word the entire time.

[ST] "Fuck them!" the young woman who attacked the Dog's corpse earlier shouts, throwing a spade aside so fiercely that it breaks. "F-fuck them and f-fuck all of you if you want to s-stand there and let this happen again." She stalks off. One or two call after her. Most mothers simply pull their children closer, turning their faces away from the spectacle. The child continues to follow Avir, paying

[ST] no heed to the drama.

[ST] Slowly, the bodies of the ape and the Bloody Hand are dissolving, fading away to nothingness.

[Avir] At last, Avir stands and faces her directly. "Where did you live? Take me there."

[ST] The girl looks at him with dark, troubled eyes.

[Avir] "...can you point?"

[ST] She extends her hand, pointing to a cluster of dark houses. She blinks.

[ST] "Hold her down!" the voice comes faintly from behind them. "She will hurt herself!"

[ST] "Fuck... you!"

[Avir] Avir turns.

[ST] The angry woman is held down by a crowd of the Quiet, who attempt to quiet her. The child continues to point.

[Avir] Better he weren't involved, Avir resolves instantly. He goes to where the child points; he doesn't touch. He doesn't know she would react to that.

[ST] The house the child points to looks like any of the others around it. The door stands slightly ajar.

[Avir] "Wait a moment," he tells the child, uncertain whether she would listen or even understand. There were some whose wits were unhinged by tragedy. He slips in the door, looking for the bodies.

[Avir] It was a reflex he had quickly developed.

<Virtue> There were plenty of bodies. Blood everywhere, and what were presumably the child's parents hanging from meat-curing hooks attached to the rafters. What was left on the floor was . . messier.

[Avir] Avir shudders, once, in revulsion. He looks around for a chair, fetches it, and brings the laborious work of bringing the parents down gently. Perhaps that was what she wanted: the gravedigger to lay them to rest. Anything else, he feared, he could not provide.

<Virtue> Two Dogs were dead, covered with gouges and claw marks, one with his throat ripped out. Then there is a slight bit of motion in teh corner, and you see a young man rocking slowly, clutching his knees to his chest and staring. The tears aren't strong enough to wash the congealed blood from his face. His mouth. Bits of them are left under his fingernails as well. He doesn't look at you.

[Avir] "...Hello?" Avir hesitates. "I- I'm not one of them. I mean you no harm." He doesn't move closer, but only waits to see if the Quiet responds.

<Virtue> His eyes, dead till Avir spoke, wake and fix on him. "Igh," he has to pause to spit something out of his mouth. It lands in shadows, fortunately. "It wasn't me," he yells.

<Virtue> He starts to get up from the corner, staggering and supporting himself with a hand on the wall.

[Avir] "I...alright. Did you live here?"

<Virtue> "Yes!. Yes, I did. I'm Quiet," he assures you. "Who .. who are you?"

[Avir] "My name is Avir. I am a Once Dead. The..the Dogs are all dead now. It's safe to come out." A pause. "Do you have a little daughter? A sister?"

<Virtue> "Benignant Munificence? Where is she? Is she alright?" His eyes stay high, his mind not accepting any of the things he could have seen on the floor.

[ST] The child has crept up behind Avir, standing perhaps ten feet away, looking uneasily at the house.

[Avir] "Is this her?" He steps to the side so that the crazed man can see her. He feels, in the pit of his stomach, that this is a mistake.

<Virtue> "Yes. Yes, are you alright?" he asks her, stepping forward and then slipping on something less than unfortunate. She backs away from him, looking to Avir.

[Avir] "It's alright," he assures her. He interposes himself between the child and the man. Had she seen it? "How did the Dogs die?" he asks casually.

[ST] The child says little, her eyes widening at the sight of her gore-covered brother

<Virtue> "I don't know. I don't knoiw," he repeats, half to himself. "I woke up and it was like this and you were there. Where are my parents?" He is standing right next to where Avir had layed there bodies.

[Avir] "They're dead on the floor beside you." He talks slowly, carefully, as one spoke to madmen. He clears his throat uncomfortably. "You know.. I'm sure your people would understand. Seeing what you had...the deaths of your parents...Surely they would forgive a sudden rage, and act of madness..."

[Avir] He avoids looking at the corpses. He would avoid describing the details, he already knew.

<Virtue> He looks down at them, staring dumbly, and then notices the blood soaking his shirt and trousers. He raises a shaking hand towards his mouth, and then recoils from it as the gore jammed under his fingernails comes into view. "It wasn't me. Something must have happened." His speech speeds up as he talks, beginning to panic. "I think I remember it. They were doing all this and then something took over. It made me kil

<Virtue> "It killed them, not me!" he yells.

[Avir] He avoids looking at the corpses. He would avoid describing the details, he already knew. "A spirit of vengeance, perhaps?" Avir says soothingly. Shamans often peddled such nonsense.

[ST] Munificence makes a soft, horrified sound behind Avir. It is almost a squeak.

[Avir] Avir glances at her. He puts a hand thoughtlessly on her shoulder. "Did you see it?" he asks softly.

<Virtue> [from before] They were doing all this and then something took over. It made me kill them. It did." He steps towards Avir, grabbing for his shoulder.

[ST] The girl pulls away, shaking her head rapidly.

[Avir] "Shh," Avir tells her. "I...is there a shaman in your village?" Avir asks carefully. "Besides the old Mother?"

<Virtue> "N . . no, just her. Can she help me? It may still be here. Be . . in me."

[Avir] As if they would have survived ."Come with me, man." He keeps his voice even and soothing. "We'll talk about what happened, alright?" And then maybe they would talk about a bath. The man stank powerfully of blood; it put Avir in mind of a blood ape.

<Virtue> He lets you coax him away, lets you lead him.

[Avir] Avir takes him to the woman who had spoken to him earlier. She had some leadership qualities at least. Maybe she was someone important. He glances back to see if the girl- Benignant Munifence?- followed.

[ST] Munificence follows, trailing several steps behind, looking at the ground as if she does not want to see what her brother has become.

[ST] By the time Avir gets back to the other woman, the long night is nearly over. The Daystar burns as it rises near the eastern horizon, rosy fingers of the dawn extending across the sky.

[ST] Avir sees the woman from earlier moving swiftly from one knot of the Quiet to another, helping them secure baggage, saying quick prayers, corraling children. The corpses in the immediate area, at least, have been buried.

[Avir] She was the one, then. He draws her aside and tells her quietly of how he had found the man, and what he had said. "Do the Quiet have..procedures...for such things?"

[ST] She is pale. "I... for... for what? I'm afraid I don't understand.. what you are asking of me." Repose casts a glance at Virtue over Avir's shoulder, shuddering at the state of him.

[ST] "You are certain that this is what he said?"

[Avir] "Yes. I think he went beserk. I have seen such things before."

<Virtue> He stands behind, slouched and drawn in on himself under the horrified stares of nearby Quiet. He is still in just his shirt, no outdoors jacket, and he hadn't washed his face or anything. The gore was crusted damningly around his mouth and on his hands.

[Avir] "It's a kind of madness," he tries to explain, though he doesn't understand it himself.

<Virtue> He doesn't react to the conversation. Perhaps he isn't really hearing it, perhaps he is affraid to.

[ST] "Berserk. One of the People..." she shakes her head. "It is not unknown to us. Anger is powerful. It is a tool close at hand to any fallible mortal. Even us. You ask me if there is anything we can do?"

[ST] She shakes her head. "There is only one thing. And we must do it. He must be outcast from the People. That is the price of taking life knowingly." She shudders. "Even life such as this. Which, forgive me, begged to be taken. Dogs. Foul dogs."

[Avir] Avir stares at her. "But- he was not knowing. Not truly knowing. Under the circumstances- he wasn't in control of himself."

[ST] Munificence stands slightly apart from Virtue, looking at him with an expression of wonder and horror. She appears like a deer, skittish, ready to bolt.

[ST] Across the square, the young woman who was ranting earlier holds her head between her hands, sobbing loudly. Helgara stands nearby, chewing at her lip.

<Virtue> "No. No, please," he beggs, beginning to cry again.

[ST] "We cannot know that. It speaks of something within him. Something dangerous. Something not of the people." Repose leans against a nearby wall, sighing, closing her eyes. "It is not an easy thing. Nothing real in this life is."

[Avir] Avir jerks his head at the young woman. "Is she outcast as well, then? What will happen to the girl? Will you throw away her only family?" Anger sharpens his tongue.

[ST] "He must go. And yes, Sweet Hymn as well." She cocks her head towards the fierce, weeping woman. "Something in her has broken. She is no longer of the People. Do not fear for Munificence. She has done nothing wrong. We are her family, and we shall always be."

[Avir] Gods. He regretted ever bringing it up. "And what has Sweet Hymn to say of this? Everyone speaks speaks of the generosity and hospitality of the Quiet." And of their gullibility, but nevermind. "Have you less compassion for your own folk?"

[ST] Repose winces. It hurts her, what he has said. "I am no Mother," she says, wiping away a tear. "To make it sound sweet and just. It is not sweet. Perhaps it is not just. But it is the way things are. We would never cause them harm. If they hungered, we would feed them. If they thirsted, we would give them drink. If they suffered in the cold, we would warm them. But do not ask us to keep them

[ST] at our breast. We cannot. They are not like us any longer, for good or ill."

[ST] "To stay close by us would only remind them of what they cannot be, and us of their sins. Better to be apart. Don't you see?"

[ST] "Call him over. This must be swift. It is better that way."

[Avir] Avir stands aside, crossing his arms over his chest. His look is savage.

<Virtue> He slumps over, a man walking to his gallows. "It wasn't me," he assures her, staring into her eyes with unsettling focus.

[ST] "I believe that you think that is true. But to look upon your face, Virtue... I know it is not so. I cannot trust you. This is hard." Her eyes dart away from his. "I remember when you were only a child, back when Blessing and myself wanted one of our own. I am not..." She steels herself visibly.

[ST] "I am not the Mother. I cannot say the words properly. But you know them to be true. You must go. You are exiled from the People."

[ST] "I wish it could be otherwise. Truly, I do. But it cannot. And were Yo Ping to grant my wishes, my throat would grow hoarse from begging."

[ST] She gestures to indicate the devastation around them, the fresh graves.

[ST] She reaches out, placing a hand on his shoulder lightly, leaning forward as if the blood does not bother her. Perhaps it doesn't - she has long been a midwife. "I am sorry, Virtue. I promise that Munificence will be cared for. I will treat her like my own child. I wish you only the best."

<Virtue> "N . . . no," he whispers. Something frayed snaps behind his eyes, and then he jerks forward, a hand grabbing the arm holding his shoulders, his fingers digging into her skin. The other snaps to her breast, cramped into a rictus of a claw, seeking her heart.

[ST] Repose jerks backwards, screaming, thrashing, trying to get away from him, and she keeps moving, and keeps moving, and keeps moving, further than she should be able to go.

[ST] Virtue sees her shoulder shift, unzip, unfurl, wet red meat, the sound of cloth shredding, and suddenly she falls, screaming in the snow, and he realizes he is holding her arm, severed, wildly gushing.

[Avir] Avir stands frozen, then snaps into action, drawing his sword and running to move between them. She had been right. Damn him, they had been right. "Stand down," he roars at the crazed man. "Stand down or die!"

[ST] The other Quiet scream in horror, falling back, wretching, stampeding away. The blind wail piteously, unaware of the horror in front of them. Munificence sinks to the ground, hugging herself, screwing her eyes shut. Repose thrashes, blood spraying from her tortured socket and the end of the severed arm.

[Avir] No one, not even the Once Dead, had any use for a berserker who could not be controlled. Better that he die.

<Virtue> He throws her arm at you and then ducks, darting quickly, almost inhumanly so, under your blade. He slips on the slick snow fresh with blood, and falls backwards on his ass. The murder drains from him in a moment, and he is laying there staring up at the stars.

<Virtue> "Nooo! It wasn't meee!"

[ST] Repose screams like a dying animal, rolling about on the snow, clawing the ground in her agony. The life is departing from her very quickly.

[Avir] "Damn it!" Avir glances around, frantic for another alternative. "Damn it!" Demons were becoming a crutch in his life. The solution. At least the Quiet were running. He goes to his knees beside Repose. "Shut up, and don't ever tell anyone ANYTHING about this," he snarls back at the beserker.

[Avir] Even as he speaks, long legs begin to poke from out of his mouth, and then some kind of hideous bug emerges, skittering down his chest to the dying woman. It had had some time to regain essence during the night. He just hoped it was enough as he sat down, wiht a thump, beside her. It was her only hope, anyway.

[Avir] Maybe Iscal could have bound the wound in time, but he knew the limits of his skill.

<Virtue> He stares, somehow still able to be horrified by something else.

<Virtue> But at least he stays silent.

[ST] Those Quiet who haven't fled make signs of warding against evil. Most only catch a glimpse of the thing. Repose is too far gone to notice even as it crawls over her body, singing happily. Never something this bad before!

[ST] Munificence says nothing, staring at the scene with eyes that look like they will never close.

[Avir] The bottle bug crawls back up Avir's mouth and into his stomach, where it curls warm and content. "She'll live," he says at last, after making a few attempts in vain to clean her up. He looks up to see Munifcence staring at him, and glances away. He stands. "Your brother will be coming with us. You can come with us if you want, or you can stay."

[ST] Munificence stands up, walking smoothly away. After a few steps, she begins to run after the others. She does not look back. Repose sleeps now, unconscious from sheer shock and pain.

[ST] "What the fuck?" Helgara snaps, drawing closer, glaring at Avir. "What just happened here?"

[ST] "Did he just-" She spits. "Did this KNEELER just do what I think he did?"

[Avir] There's an ugly twist to his mouth. He had thought so. He turns to look at ..what was his name? Something Virtue. These Quiet and their names. "If you come with us, you will have to obey," he tells Virtue. He could make an able Once Dead, if his rages could be triggered; certainly he was a more able combatant than Avir. His mouth turns down a little further; the others would tease them about that. Avir's eyes

[Avir] track to Helgara.

[Avir] "Not a Kneeler any longer, Helgara. She just outcast him. That's why he ripped her arm off." He jerks his chin to Sweet Hymn. "He's coming with us. Her too. He'll make a Raven, I'm sure....I don't know about her. I think she's just angry."

[ST] The look that flits across her face says that's anything but a good fate. "Lunatic. Bloody Lunatic is what he is. I can't believe-" She sighs. "I can. Hymn is messed up. Angry. So angry she can't do this any more. I don't know whether to be sad or happy for her. I didn't expect to live through this. Just like Determination." She fixes Avir with a meaningful look.

<Virtue> Virtue is lying still on the ground, quietly crying, spent.

[Avir] Avir shrugs. "What happened, happened," he says quietly. "We'll all have to find a way to live with it. Come on. We should continue preparations to depart."

[ST] "Guess so." She thinks of Hope, for a moment. She has to be all right. They have to talk. "The Kneelers'll be ready soon. Best keep this one and Hymn off from the others."