Castle Pieksvaldt – Courtyard – Morning

Though the town of Rookery spent untold years trapped within the shadow of the forgotten Pieksvaldt castle, time has helped push back unpleasant memories now that the shadow has lifted. The town is a-bustle, some of the activity controversy over how many of the younger folk want to go out exploring now that they've reconnected with the world, other business being the resumption of trade and the necessity of seeing to keeping the town secure now that the Midnight Murder is gone. Despite all the uncertainty, the mood is more excited than worried.

With all the activity in the town below, the castle itself has been relatively quiet. Some of the servants still come up to look after things, but without 'guests' to attend to, there's little reason to fuss with the castle overmuch. Maybe out of habit, the citizens of Rookery respect the lingering presence of House Pieksvaldt, and more or less leave the castle to itself, though there's been some talk about what to do with it. Out of respect for Lilac and Von Horne, they've deferred on the matter, especially with the family tapestry still clearly active.

With most of the activity confined to the town, the castle itself has become a good place to come for some quiet, which has helped in training sessions. Von Horne has recovered as much as a Korv missing a wing can, and hasn't let the loss slow her down much. She comes and goes, personally instructing Lilac when she's present, and leaving her drills and exercises to practice when she goes afield. She's here today, once more helping Lisandra develop her martial skills, calling out maneuvers for the once-bardess to use against a straw-stuffed dummy hanging from a wood framework, the chest and head smeared with paint.

"Feint… thrust… retreat… good… feint… you're pushing too much with your leading hand again… feint… there, good… thrust… retreat… "

"HA!" The young human woman meets her teacher's commands with practiced, if not perfect, repetition of the techniques she has been training in since the days after the Rookery returned to the world. In her hands is a black chitin halberd, taken from House Pieksvaldt's armory to help in both her training and defense of the town. "HA!" A retreat is followed by a vertical chop, a standing thrust, and then a stepping thrust that puts her weapon's point through the dummy's chest. The equipment that festoons her body jingles with the force of the thrust, her voice echoing in the largely empty hall.

The Korv standing off to the side nods approvingly, one wing-arm holding her own spear, propped up on the butt. Her thick mantle of furs rests over her shoulders, and her leather mask and goggles hang around her neck… if one didn't look too close, one might not realize the older woman was missing her left wing, as heavily draped as her cape is. "Very good, Lisandra. Remember, when you're stabbing, the leading hand is a guide, the rear hand thrusts." The older woman takes a few steps around the dummy to inspect it. "You've been practicing while I've been out and about, I'm glad you're so diligent. You're a quick study. Has the halberd been getting lighter for you?"

Lisandra finishes her last set before answering, carrying through and adjusting her thrusting power in response to her mentor's advice. A curious tendency seems to take the young woman when she reaches a degree of aggression and focus: she bares her teeth, a legacy of her curse and a reminder for the senior hunter her student was once her prey. Finished, Lisandra lowers her spear upon its butt and smiles at Klaudia, breathing heavily. "I have the being good two teacher," she replies in broken Bosch. "Sometimes the village training and with Lady Umeko?" A flicker of frustration crosses the human's face, and in Sylvanian, she admits, "I practiced with lady Umeko, and have tried to lead militia drills." Her eyes flicker to her weapon and she nods slowly. "A little lighter. I like the feel of holding a weapon."

Von Horne nods, sidling up once the drill is ended, resting her Korv-headed spear on her shoulder. She switches from the guttural language of Bosch to Sylvanian as well. "A metal one might be less or more heavy, depending on how it's made, but as you practice, you'll find yourself fighting less with your weapon and more with your opponent. In any case, I think you've come a long way in a short time… you wouldn't have been out of place in the ranks, if you'd been a spear in the Lord Rook's war host."

"I like to think that I'm a spear for the Rookery and the Pieksvaldts, at least," the human replies, bowing her at the compliment as a little redness colors her cheeks. When her head rises again, she tilts it and admits, "It's hard for me to imagine myself any sort of warrior; I was shamefully poor at even our meager defense drills in my home village. But, I think it is all thanks to my wonderful teachers. Thank you, Klaudia." Then, she's ducking her head again. Politeness, even casual apology, has come to be another trait her mentor has come to see in her young apprentice. From Lisandra's own admittance, it is a combination of guilt and propriety, the former she feels she has too much of and the latter not enough.

Von Horne isn't really the smiling type, it's become abundantly clear over the time spent getting to know her, but she allows a small crease at the corners of her beak. "Well, don't thank me yet, my friend… I don't really know that I'm doing you a favor drawing you into this line of work. Still, it's been a pleasure to pass on what I know to someone so serious about learning it, and I think they're skills that should serve you even if you don't decide hunting is what you want to do. Speaking of that, though… "

The human's smile grows a little at her mentor's own; she's always happy to see the older Korv in high spirits. Being of use and trying to keep people in good cheer have been key goals of hers while she remains in Rookery. "Has something come up?" Lisandra's eyes widen, she had been asking only recently about such things. "And don't worry yourself, Klaudia! I asked for this life, and it is part of me, even if I came to it by what circumstances I did. Besides, you've helped me feel useful again."

"Well, you've picked up what I consider to be the basics of the trade," Von Horne says, beckoning Lilac to walk with her. She begins making her way across the courtyard toward the castle gate, explaining as she goes. "I think you may be ready to apply it practically, and see some of what you're in for, if you feel up to it. When I've been out, I've been traveling the settlements and re-establishing old ties."

Lisandra follows along after her teacher, spear resting against her right shoulder in marching style as she walks. She glances at her teacher then, brows lifting in surprise, "I'm glad to have the chance, and do what I can while I can. I don't know if you've heard from village gossip yet, about that." Unmarried, pregnant, and mysterious, it wasn't long before Lilac the Hero entered in to the world of gossip. One of the maids happened upon her bathing, and that was that. "And do you mean personal ties, or ties for the Rookery? I've spoken to the mayor when I we're both not busy, and I'm sure he appreciates any assistance he can get. The poor man is in a state, juggling so much so very suddenly."

It's quiet in the open yards of the castle, rare sunlight streaming down in columns through the clouds as the pair walk unhurriedly. "I've never been one for gossip, but the town certainly looks busy. I dare say, there'll be some turmoil for a while, but that's to be expected. If a town has to be stirred up, good that it's as if waking from a long sleep." She cocks her head to look at Lilac in the way of birds, through one eye. "Professional ties, actually. I've been seeing what's been posted where hunters convene and pass through, hearing some talk. This is one of the ways we find new quarry."

"That's very clever, setting your meeting places up so that you can all benefit and people know where to notify you. My experience with hunters has had been second hand or worse; I had never thought how they – we – worked when not on an actual hunt," the ex-bard admits, brows arching in understanding as she gazes off at nothing in particular. While the knowledge of how hunter's operate is of real interest to her, her remark is partly a screen as she wrestles with how, and if, to tell Klaudia about her state. Deciding she has kept it a secret long enough, and preferring her mentor not learn second hand, she admits, still looking distant, "The truth of the matter is that I'm with child, Klaudia. I didn't want to worry you, but I've heard the whispers and it's too late for that. I hope you don't think ill of me?" Here, the young woman turns to regard her friend's face, her own pensive and nervous, "I can still hunt."

The Korv nods with regard to the comments on the trade, simply adding, "It's a loose system, not very well organized, but traditions have become practical." When her student confesses this new bit of information, Von Horne's crest lifts a little, the huntress cocking her head to eye Lilac again. "Is this so? When did that happen? No, I don't think ill of you. My own mother was gravid when she left with Magsbed's retinue… it's not for me to judge how you keep body and soul together, as we do what we must to survive. It does make the implications of putting yourself in danger deeper, of course, but… not everyone has every option."

"I hope to learn that system too, some day." Again, commentary gives Lilac time to think, and after a deep inhale she lets out a breath, gazing down and resting a hand on her stomach. "It happened well before we met," she begins as her mind returns to the memories of the desert, "Far away from here, when I still traveled with Lady Umeko. The father, he was a man of … religious standing, and the child is what comes from promises made out of desperation." Lisandra shakes her head, looking skyward and towards the light shining through the clouds, wondering what might have been.

The pair pass through some double doors, in through the dining hall and then the foyer. The cleanliness and polish that the servants have put on the castle and its art objects is much easier to see now that it's not so dark. Though some small treasures disappeared with the exodus, paintings and busts still stand and watch sternly from the past. "What became of him?" croaks Von Horne, pushing open a door with her remaining arm. "And are you at peace with what happened?"

"He is dead," Lilac says, her tone distant, voice quiet. While she has come to accept her choice and what happened to her for the most part, nightmares still haunt her of that night. She keeps her gaze away from her friend's eye, that she not she not see whatever haunted look reflects there. For a long moment Lisandra doesn't answer Klaudia's second question as she numbly notes the statuary, reviews what she knows stolen with almost mechanical effort. As they exit the hall, she finally answers. "I committed a terrible sin, Klaudia. Whatever comes of it, I deserve what happened to me." Finally mustering the courage to face her teacher, she turns, adding, "It is my child I worry about now. That is all."

"I see." The Korvish huntress stops, falling behind a couple paces, shining black eyes studying the other woman. "I would counsel you then, Lisandra… to think well on your decision to do this. I do not know the nature of what happened, but I would warn you that you will see those that might have been in a plight like yours not long before you met them. Cursed, lost to the world around them. They'll have sinned too, but those that we hunt will have blood on their hands, will be beyond saving. It will be your trade to kill them, not your punishment… "

The human lowers her head; she had feared this might come up. Reconciling her feelings with her choices has proven both convoluted and difficult. "I didn't chose to be a monster hunter as a punishment, I saw in you strength and the means to do what needs to be done," she swears, turning to regard her mentor, wondering what she must think of that. "If I have learned anything, it is that not all monsters deserve to die, nor that all men deserve to live. Isn't it enough that I end the danger? Must we always kill?"

Von Horne breathes in deep, letting the breath out slowly through her nostrils, her beak tightly shut for a moment. When she speaks again, it's with a soft voice. "Lisandra, I feared your past, the little that I know of it, would make this exceptionally difficult for you. There's no shame in taking the skills I've taught you and applying them to something else, something other than monster hunting. It's true, not all monsters may deserve to die… in fact, there are scores of creatures out in Sylvania that I am content to leave alone if they do not prey on the populace. But Lisandra… our trade will be to kill the ones that have. Think about it. We do this at the behest of cities that want these things dead for what they've done. Will you rehabilitate ones whose only mistake was to let the monster in until they could no longer control themselves? Where will you take them? How will you help them?"

"I … " Lisandra's mind races, she searches her heart and all she knows, and in the end all she can admit to herself is that she doesn't know. She doesn't know how she can help the cursed, no more than she knew how to help herself until the very end. There is no answer lurking in her heart, no grand plan to save suffering monsters, even those who, like herself, retain some or much of their humanity. All she can truly find is that she wants to believe it can happen, because without that belief, she knows her own salvation was just chance, and that her child, her poor child, may be irredemable. She stops half a hall from Klaudia, eyes fixed on the floor. "No," she breathes, "I have no answer … None. I can pray, and search and still there may be nothing. Nothing at all." Turning, she puts a hand on her chest, "But I can at least be there," she insists, leaning forward, "Be there – because I understand! Maybe it will help in the end, that someone like me was there. Or maybe it's just sad injustice, but I want to believe it until I have no choice left."

The click of talons on stone follows behind the once-bardess, and a calloused black hand rests on one of her shoulders when she turns around, a brush of feathers against the younger woman's arm. "It will be difficult, I cannot say otherwise. Many monsters will just be slavering beasts, mindless, or simply hateful. But some will speak, will feel. How you cope with dealing with those kinds may be harder than facing teeth and claws. Perhaps it will be the greatest mercy that their lives end by your hand instead of mine, or perhaps it will exact a toll on you that isn't fair to you." The Korv is silent for a moment, taking up her spear again where she'd leaned it against the base of a statue. "I feared that this kind of difficulty might come up in the quarry I chose when I came back from going afield."

"And here I am. Your quarry," whispers the human, nodding slowly to her mentor's words. "You hunted me, but I didn't hunt you. I always knew that you were the hero; that you should prevail, not me, despite Lady Umeko's behest. She bid me to show practical compassion, but I haven't been able to reconcile what I have with what I believe should be done." She reaches up and rests her hand on Klaudia's, smiling faintly, sadly. "It's the injustice, Klaudia. Why do I live, and others don't? Even my success here makes me wonder, I was never but a burden to my own town … " Shaking her head, Lisandra breathes a sigh. "Perhaps there is no justice but what the Great Gear plans for us all, and what we can do for each other and ourselves. It's just, it's very difficult to swallow." She shakes her head again. "I'm sorry, I thought I had figured this all out."

The Korv shakes her head slowly, her expression grave. "I thank the Gear I failed to bring down my quarry when it was you, but a hunter has to be decisive. But I speak also of more current prey." She touches Lilac's hand with a scaly, taloned thumb when it sets on hers, and she keeps her voice measured and about as soft as a gravelly Korvid voice can be. "North of here, some leagues out, some of the small villages bordering the Gallis controlled territories have reported travelers gone missing between Spearhead and Blackshire. A few have turned up, bodies pierced along major arteries and drained. There's a few relatively common things this could be."

Lisandra glances at her mentor, her focus taken by the grave, immediate news. "Blood drained along major arteries?" Having something to think on beyond her own worries is a welcome enough relief, though she'd have chosen to suffer them still if it meant such news didn't need to reach her. Whatever answer she may find for her inner struggle, it will need to wait. "The vampire is the most traditional, I would think?" She glances at her spear, it's presence helping her concentrate on her training. "I remember you said there were three common types, and that they're a common suspect but less commonly encountered, villagers being fearful as they are. The first is an eeee madman, and the second a true vampire. A madman would be a danger, but not as fearsome as a true vampire, stronger and faster. The last is a … necromancer?" Her gaze shifts to Klaudia for confirmation. "For blood magic, the magic of the undead?"

The older huntress nods as she listens to her lessons repeated to her. "Good. It could be something else, but these are the most likely possibilities." She reaches under her heavy mantle of furs and comes up with a small scrap of parchment, a crude map sketched out on it. The occupied swamps are shaded near the bottom, and they form a point with a dot, which Lilac would recognize as Spearhead Keep. Another dot northeast is connected with the first by a simple line; it's Blackshire. A few others are noted, Justininople and some minor villages. "The people who disappeared were single travelers along this route… they were generally soft targets, old people, or women… " The last is said without irony in her voice, and she continues, "Generally those less able to defend themselves. This leads me to believe that of the three, it'd be a weak vampire at worst, or a hedge necromancer. In all three cases, I think something to test your mettle against, but again, all three of these possibilities would be thinking, intelligent opponents, not some beast or zombie."

The younger woman listens intently, her mind abuzz with ideas. It was not so long ago she was the monster in the dark, picking and choosing her targets, and this lends her special insight that surprises her. She decides not to remark on the fact she can think like a monster; she's spoken enough on that already. "And if it were a necromancer, it would most likely be just one hole, not two. By spacing the puncture marks we could determine how large the creature is, and if there is one, or many." She grins, proud of her deduction, and prouder still to show her mentor her time hasn't been wasted. "And, if it's looking for lone people, easy targets, than a young pregnant woman might be just the sort!"

Von Horne does indeed look pleased with the deduction, and nods. "Or an old, crippled Korv. We can't travel together, because it doesn't attack groups of people, but we don't have to be far apart. We can disguise our spears as yokes for carrying goods."

"And you can break yours down and hide it beneath your cloak," Lisandra agrees. She tilts her head as she thinks, gaze wandering as she imagines the situation. "I might need to forgo most of my equipment and my heavy clothing, unless I can find a suitable cloak. Hmm, and there's also the matter of where it would attack from. Were I it, I would strike at night – even more true with a traditional vampire – and from either a high place if I could fly, or from ambush, if I'm smart. A necromancer also supposes magic, so there's that. I've never faced magic before, only seen it used by Mage Xander."

"It's quite fearsome," Lisandra adds, in afterthought. "But fire isn't at all likely."

Von Horne bobs her head again, and beckons her protege to walk with her again, toward the castle foyer. "Perhaps, though few people are willing to travel at night, especially not alone. I think this creature doesn't fear the light of day; not all who consume blood do. Many of the myths about vampires are superstitions dreamt up by villagers. In any case, a hedge necromancer like as not wouldn't wish to face you directly. Mages seldom do, there's too much risk. Animated cadavers are their most common choice, and there were no undead sightings, as yet."

The human releases her teacher's hand and, after adjusting her spear, follows after the other woman. "It is a strange thing, but I have retained the eyes the curse has given me. That I can see at night may be to our advantage, as may the nature of my wings. I would think, few monsters expect to face someone who was once like them," she muses, brows furrowing. As they near the door she nods, "And of course you're right, teacher. I could tell you many stories of monsters, it comes with having been a bard. Hm, did you hear if there were two spaced marks or just one?"

"Sinai's magic can touch us in strange ways," muses the Korv, pushing through the great double doors of the castle's front entrance. The two women begin their winding journey down the cliff path toward the town of Rookery. "There weren't many details, unfortunately. Some described what looked like bites, on bodies that didn't appear to have been involved in struggle. They said the wounds were small. Others were bruised and cut, like they did fight and were overpowered… these had an incision, as with a knife."

"How very disturbing," Lisandra observes, head shaking at the thought of what these poor people must have endured. Outside, the wind catches her hair, sending it billowing like ebony silk. "So, we have small bites, and a knife cut? It almost seems to me whomever or whatever this monster may be, it is able to get very close to their prey. With the unbruised, I think of this creature gaining a lone traveler's trust before striking. In the case of struggle, my instinct suggests maybe its prey caught on too soon, and so this creature used a weapon from very close – or perhaps claws. Either way, this all makes me think the monster is either very stealthy or is hiding in plain sight."

Klaudia taps the butt of her spear on some rocks thoughtfully as the pair of huntresses descend, making the metal jaw of the Korv head ring. "I'm glad to see you're thinking this out extensively. Your notions are sound. So then… is this a bounty you think you can bring in?"

"Hmm." Lisandra leans her spear forward, eyeing the blade and considering all she's learned thus far. It takes her only a moment to come to her conclusion, turning to her mentor and nodding confidently. "Yes," she confirms, "I feel confident I can claim this bounty; I will go. Nothing will come of me sitting about worrying, and the best way to find my answer is to go and find it – I'm already thinking of what to bring!"

The Korvish woman lightly rings the head of her spear against the black chitin blade of Lilac's halberd, crossing the weapons briefly as a show of solidarity. "I'll go with you, of course. We can't travel together when we begin the hunt proper, but I won't be far away. If I'm attacked first, you might not get the practice I was hoping for, but you could at least see what we were dealing with. If you're attacked first, then I shouldn't be far if you fear you may be outmatched, and need to retreat."

The suggestion of retreat causes a shadow to pass across Lisandra's face, her smile faltering and brows narrowing ever so slightly, and then it is gone. She had admitted early in her training she felt deeply ashamed of how the monster the ex-seneschal became nearly routed her; clearly, the shame remains. "I look forward to this," she confides, clinking her spear right back against Klaudia's. "It's no small amount that I look up to you, seeing you hunt and hunting with you is an honor. My father would and mother would be proud of me, and it's you I have to thank." She inclines her head, then tries to smile a little. "And, I'll try to keep my sentimentality back in the castle. It's probably best I learn to restrain that."

"Wise words, Lisandra," agrees Von Horne. She doesn't seem to miss when the other woman's face darkens, and she gives her a reassuring half-smile around her scratched-up beak. "I'm glad to lend what knowledge I have, and I'm flattered if I've inspired you, but if anything I'm repaying in kind. Without you and your friends, my mother could never have rested. Finishing that task took a great weight off my shoulders." She even laughs a little. "Which is good, since I've only got one left. In any case… it's as you say. If you let your emotions go too far one way, you second-guess yourself, you lose your decisiveness and objectivity. If you let them go too far the other way, you become like Borham Kuenn. Don't throw your emotions away, but think about how you'll be strongest, even if that means running away. I've fled my share of fights. Once from your own band of cohorts."

"Lady Umeko is quite fearsome when she's mad – but between you and I, her emotions are her weakness, too," the human woman confides, dropping to a whisper despite no one else being nearby, and smiling a little more while doing it. "But not so much a weakness as mine," she adds, leaning back from her whispering. "I want to tell you I played little part in freeing the castle, but we both know that's just me being hard on myself. Less than I'd have liked, but it wasn't nothing, as hard as it is to say." Her gaze turns, and she looks back at the tower where the final battle had taken place, thinking a moment before continuing. "Borham Kuenn. There was strong evidence he was the model for our beasts, though we may never know now. How did you find your heart's armor, Klaudia?"

Von Horne croaks, "Well, she and your Lapi friends had me pretty sure I'd lost my favorite spear for good, that one time. Anyway, it's neither here nor there. By the accounts I heard later, none of it would have ended right without all of you there. Even that stag." The spires of the castle dwindle as two near the town of Rookery, but above can still be seen the ruined tower where the final confrontation had taken place. Klaudia doesn't look back, however. "I've had more time to do so than you, I suppose. My mother raised me on stories about the House of Pieksvaldt as it was when she was there. Stories of the Necromancer Wars, and of what happened after that fateful day they rode to battle. Having a goal and deciding it was worth more than whatever trivial comforts I might enjoy otherwise, I think that made it easier for me. It was about what I valued. It puts things in perspective."

Lisandra glances back at the comment about the spear, blinking several times before she suddenly laughs! "Oh, the spear," she wheezes, having nearly forgotten the memory, "I ran off and fetched it in my mouth! Miss Anisa has shouted not to touch it, that it was dangerous, and … oh, Gear in heaven … I had just carried it right up to her like a proud beasthound." She rubs her eyes with her free hand, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I am listening – I heard everything you said, it's just, here and now, it's … I haven't laughed that hard in a while." She looks up, eyes a little moist, "Yes, I've always thought you very brave; your mother too. I see how having something to believe in is important now, perhaps my child, this town, the new Lord Rook, and the Great Gear can be mine. And, I hope I can find the inner strength you've mustered."

The Korvess doesn't laugh, but her eyes twinkle, and her tone is light. "That explains the tooth marks on the haft. Anyhow… I'm glad you can laugh again, after everything you've been through. It's my hope that you, Rookery, and even House Pieksvaldt may be able to thrive again." She points with her spear at the low dwellings ahead, hedgerows cuddling up to stone, and smoke curling from chimneys. "We should get supplies for our trip, and maybe set out with one of the trade wagons to ride part of the way."

Lisandra's smile remains as she look to the hedgerows, although her gaze pause as she examines her teacher's spear before looking fully forward. "I wasn't sure I would laugh again," she admits, her tone pleased. "But, there it is. A memory of a moment that was surrounded by strife, and it makes me laugh. If I were still a bard, I might say something about how the little things can make for such twists and stories." She takes a moment to turn her gaze across the village, quiet, but peaceful now. It makes her smile all the more; she even knows some of the residents these days. In a way, it's her town too, now. "I have great faith we will find His Lordship," she confides. "I'm somewhat less confident in how he will accept all this."

"We'll cross that river when we come to it. He's kept all these years, he'll keep a little while longer," reassures Von Horne. "In any case, I think being able to laugh about the past can only be a good thing." Townsfolk going about their business greet both women warmly as they pass by. There's a lot more hustle and bustle here these days… it seems that even with youngsters leaving, new people have been arriving, whether to see the town that appeared out of nowhere, or to hear stories of how the treasures that had littered the swamp appeared, or even to find a new place to settle.

The young huntress greets every smile with a hello, a brief well-wishing, and even little inquiries about people's lives and if they are well. It makes her more happy than she has words for, to know there is a place in the world she not only belongs, but is thought well of in. And just as much, she is so very pleased to see these people look well. "I'm so glad to see such friendliness here," she asides as they pass another group. "Even new faces! Yes, it can all only be a good thing." She then nods to her teacher. "And, of course, supplies. I've already a list in mind, and I may yet dare to ask you for the recipe of your blinding powder. This will be the first time I've walked in to a general store freely; I intend to make good use of the day."

Gallisan Occupied Territories – Spearhead Keep – Mid Day

By trade caravan and by foot in several instances, it takes a couple days to make the trek north to Spearhead. Much of the time is spent reaching dry roads, and once on thoroughfares travel is easier and more pleasant, and with more company. There isn't a lot of hustle and bustle on these country roads, but there is some traffic, much of it Gallees going about their business: peasants driving hay carts, knots of common Gallisan soldiers moving to and from Spearhead, and the occasional merchant. Some passersby look distinctly Sylvanian to Lisandra, but they don't seem to be harassed or halted… what "border" there is seems rather porous.

The fortress itself, however, is considerably more imposing. It was obviously once a Sylvanian castle, once belonging to some forgotten nobleman or commander. The wooden portcullis yawns as the crowds get thicker moving into the courtyard, areas within the walls used as markets and shops for guildsmen. Gallisan archers and spearmen patrol the crenelated walls, the banner of Gallis flies from the towers, and much of the masonry appears new and looked after. Lisandra and Von Horne aren't questioned as they are let into the shelter of Spearhead's walls, but it's clear the Gallisan foothold here seems to be taken very seriously.

"Wow," Lisandra breathes, turning to look about as she goes, "I never journeyed to Spearhead Keep before the occupation, or-" She pauses to blink, glancing at her mentor and hunting partner, " … Well, maybe I have been here. It's all a bit of a blur after you-know-what." Smiling a little, she looks back, and up, examining the walls, "But it all looks taken care of, anyway. The artistry is really very nice. I might approve of this, if not for how it was gained."

Von Horne walks nearly shoulder to shoulder with Lilac to get through the crowds in the more confined area. The market here smells of livestock, and it's somewhat noisy, but it's left behind after moving past to the guildsmen's varied shops. The Korv nods at Lilac. "For what it is, it's a useful place. Gallis makes a point of its permanence, so it's a fact of life in the region… but at the least it forms a hub for trade and travel. It has little to fear from the occasional raid, and is a staging point while the Gallisan advance is stalled, so for the foreseeable future we can come and go as we please."

A little straw and mud sticks to Lilac's boots, but at least there's less being bumped around further in.

"In some ways, I appreciate the order it brings to the countryside. If I remember my history and rumor correctly, then this region was about as wild and lawless as one would expect. It wasn't something I'd have thought on before, but after my travels – seeing Chronotopia, Nagai City, Rephidim and Jadai – I've come to see just how dangerous and disorderly my homeland can be. A part of me recoils at the invasion, certainly, but I have also learned to appreciate order," Lisandra tells her compatriot as they maneuver through the crowds and in to the guildsmen's area. When she finishes, she pats her 'Gearite' work, as an example of her new found world view.

As she does, she looks past Klaudia von Horne and wonders aloud, "Do you think their smithy is of any quality?"

"Yes, it's seldom all black and white. On the face of it, I disagree with Gallis' poor excuse, but I'll take advantage of any stability it brings, temporary or not." The Korvess turns to follow Lilac's gaze toward the guild shops. "Oh, it is. It's the closest smithy of reasonable size to Rookery."

"If I had the money, I'd consider asking them to forge some weaponry," Lisandra confides, watching the smithy with a considering look. "But, money aside, they may not be keen on forging weapons for two obviously Sylvanian individuals, fearing we may be opposing forces." The woman just shakes her head, then laughs lightly. "Which, I suppose we are. We're just not very adamant about it."

Von Horne shakes her head. "No, they'll happily take our business. It's a privately owned smithy, though he's obliged to service the chevaliers and cuirassiers. Iron's not as rare as it used to be, but it's still not found in the hands of your average agitator." She smiles wryly. "I'm sure they'd love it if one of the Sylvanian nobles were to walk in here and ask to have his sword sharpened."

Lisandra laughs at that, as well. "Well, I'll be sure to pass that along to his Lordship, when and if he may journey this way." Smiling, the young woman turns to look at the other offerings as they proceed northward. "I do wonder if I was ever here. It's a point of some worry – don't you agree? – never quite knowing where you had been, who you had met, and what you might have been doing. I am free, but my memory hasn't returned – and perhaps never will." Despite her grim statement, Lisandra keeps right on smiling. "I never thought that I would consider a weapon – much has changed," she adds.

The shops passed seem quite busy, the stoneworkers, woodworkers, leatherworkers, and chitinworkers primarily. The smithy is smaller but looks a bit more affluent, some examples of richly filigreed work visible through its windows. "I can imagine how disturbing that must be to you, Lisandra," the Korvess agrees. "But you seem to remember things that happened when you weren't the beast more readily. Maybe you'll be able to pick out where you've been from older memories.""

"I hope so," the younger woman agrees. "I find seeing the places I've been, or stumbling across reminders, helps a great deal. A man named 'the Pyrelighter' helped me remember my village, for instance." She tugs her friend's sleeve and points towards the smithy. "Care to take a look? I admit, I'm a bit curious. Call it a Chronotopian urge, but I've become fascinated by machines and artifice."

Klaudia lifts a brow. "Pyrelighter? Sounds like a grim fellow. But if he helped you remember some things, I'm glad." She looks back toward the smithy, then gestures toward it with her wing. "You'd like to look inside? I don't see why not. We've got a little time here. Speaking of which, when do you want to set out on the road?" She starts the walk toward the smithy's open door.

Lisandra nods to the comment about Pyrelighter being grim. "Oh, he was very grim. An Imperial Fire Mage, very imposing and, well, a bit regal in that way Naga can be." She begins towards the smithy door, taking it upon herself to open the door for her mentor. "As for when we should leave, I can go at any time you are comfortable, my friend. My vision isn't much impaired by the night, and truth be told, I'm quite at home wandering the road day or night, with or without stopping at a village – but I would miss getting the chance to sing. I fear my flute has passed on, however."

Through the door, it's MUCH warmer in the smithy than it was outside, a wash of warm air carrying the scent of heated iron and burning charcoal. The entrance opens into something like a showroom, with various pieces of metalcraft on display, most behind glass cases. On the walls are several shields with Gallisan crests and heraldry, a few mannequins wear brilliantly shined chain shirts, and glass cases show off gleaming swords laying in crushed velvet. It isn't just weapons and armor here, though. There's also dinner sets, finely wrought tableware stood up on high shelves, knives of all kinds, and even a metal tea set. A young but muscular Gallee, a mastiff by the look of him, rises from the chair he was seated in. He's dressed smartly in tunic and breeches, and his tail wags as he approaches. "Welcome to De Brignac's smithy. Oh, hello Ms. Von Horne. Come to get your spear retooled?" He hesitates, obviously taken aback by Klaudia's missing wing.

"Hello," Lisandra greets the man with a smile that flickers when he takes notice of Klaudia's missing wing.

"Good to see you, Armand," says the Korvess, smiling. "You look taller than I last saw you. Is your apprenticeship going well?" She stops and follows the Gallee's eyes down to her shoulder. "Ah, this. It's been an eventful past few months." Armand stumbles a bit through an apology, but before he can get through, "I'm sorry," the Korvess has already hushed him by waving her wing at him. "These things happen, and I'm still doing well otherwise. We're just here to look around a bit before heading north for a while. I have an apprentice of my own now. Lisandra, Armand de Brignac, son of the mastersmith here. Armand, Lisandra Dragomir, my hunting protege'."

Lisandra inclines her head to the other apprentice. "It's nice to meet you, Alfonse. Your work here is very fine, by my limited understanding of such things." When she rises, she glances at her mentor and says, "Klaudia is an excellent teacher, and a fearsome opponent, let me tell you."

Alfonse quickly recovers, and bows at the waist, offering his hand. "Ah, it's a pleasure, Miss Dragomir. Forgive my surprise, s'il vous plait. I always assumed Mistress Von Horne was entirely invincible."

This gets a short laugh from the Korvess.

It gets a laugh out of the young huntress, as well. "Believe me, there were times I thought so!" She shakes the hand, then says, "Actually, though, we were – well I was – wondering at your services and pricing, if I happen this way. My weapons are, as you can see, very old."

The mastiff graciously touches his muzzle to the back of Lisandra's hand when she gives it, and is deft enough not to leave a noseprint. He stands, smiling genially over his jowly face. "Of course, of course. Mind, none of what you see out here is by my hand, it is all my father's. I am yet an apprentice, and am years from making a proper masterwork. But I can certainly see what we can do. We have many pieces to choose from, of many styles and prices. We have been able to lower our prices somewhat now that iron has become more readily available, but much of the price is in the work. Is there anything in particular you're looking for? Or would you like me to look at your weapons?"

"Well, sure, have a look." Lisandra offers her halberd – the head covered to preserve its edge, then draws her sword and holds that where he can see. "The crossbow is in fine shape, being much newer. But these weapons are from an old armory, and their day is long past." As the man examines the implements of combat, Lisandra glances at her mentor and says, "I've had this idea ever since you gave me that, um, strong worded lecture about my hesitation to fight hand-to-hand. Do you think a weapon like … ," the young woman uses her body to block the motion from the young man, making a clawing gesture, " … would be possible? It fits in to what I, um, know at any rate."

The smith apprentice take each weapon to hold, to judge its balance and condition. While he's distracted with this, Von Horne cocks her head to follow Lilac's motions. "Punch daggers? Main gauche? Oh, you mean… hmm. Well, I've heard such exotic weapons are employed in the lands far across the sea. The Khattan come to mind, and possibly some of the Nagai's lizardy folk."

"Really?" The young woman cocks her head in mirror of her friend, almost reflexively canine in her motion. "Too exotic, you think? I'll admit I am uncomfortable with their idea, but I do think that discomfort needs to go, and that's exactly why I ask. If I'm to fight, I can't very well fear using my hands!" She laughs again, looking down at the appendages. "Ah, what awful, awful memories. But for all that, I could protect my friends and fight for what I believed."

Klaudia rubs her knuckles under her beak. "Any weapon is fine if you can find a practical way to use it. I assume the Khattan put them to good use. I just wouldn't be able to tell you myself, I've never fought that way. I suppose from my perspective, having specialized in fighting things with claws, I don't see the appeal, but that's only my perspective. I'm sure it'd be more effective at close-in fighting than a sword. If you wanted to train with them, I think you'd have to seek out a teacher."

"I think so, although I may have some … um, other ideas about them. It's worth a try, though, isn't it?" She looks to her friend hopefully. "I'm not simply mad after having spent three months in that castle? It's really very lonely. And the baby too, … " She blinks. "Maybe I am mad. Am I?"

Meanwhile, Alphonse lays the sword aside on a counter and leans the halberd against his shoulder. "These aren't badly built weapons, though they definitely show their age. Competently made. I suspect the chitin in your halberd may be somewhat brittle by now, though it's very thick. You'd want to ask the chitin-crafter about that. The sword is fine, though the obsidian edges have wear. If you liked, we could dig the obsidian out and replace them with steel edges threaded into the notch. It'd be less expensive than a full steel sword, and give you a fine and resilient cutting edge. We're finding we're doing this much more often now that iron isn't as scarce. A completely steel sword is still better, naturally."

Looking over her shoulder, the young huntress says, "Hmm, well, Ummy – excuse me, Lady Tsuguri – said she would consider having me a sword made, which would make buying a while new one rather silly. The sword is only my secondary weapon, too, so it's importance is less. It's good to know the halberd should survive, if not perfectly well." She purses her lips, thinking. "Actually," a glance is cast Klaudia's way, "I was considering another sort of weapon, but we're of somewhat different minds about it, and maybe your thoughts could help: have you ever worked on weapons like a beast's claws?"

Alphonse puts his hand to his muzzle, making his jowls bunch up as he rubs his chin. "Hmmm… I haven't, but father might have. I think it'd involve a bit more fitting than a sword, but I don't think it would be especially difficult. How would you use them? With a handle and the blades poking between your fingers? On a glove?"

Lisandra lifts her hand, making a rake through the air a few times as she considers what arrangements might bests support that style of attack. "If I use a glove, that might prohibit other weapons from being held, which would be too cumbersome, right? A punch-style would also have that problem … " She turns her hand over, running her thumb along the pale flesh, thinking. "What if they attached to the wrist somehow? A glove, with hand and arm supports, and the claws jutting forward? Would that make sense, and allow a weapon?"

The mastiff looks down at his thick-fingered hands, as if trying to picture this. With the blades coming out where? Over the tops of the knuckles? Or from the side like a Zelak wrist saber?"

"I think … the tops? Probably in a three or four claw pattern, with a curve, but not so much that a stabbing motion would be ineffective. My idea is to support my spear and crossbow by having another weapon at hand, and useful for hand-to-hand combat, as well," explains the ex-bardess, who actually begins to start blushing.

Alphonse touches the back of his hand and seems to trace an invisible blade forward from the end of the bone in his beefy forearm. "Hmmm… I think similar in theory to a Zelak's wrist-saber, but over the top. Interesting. Though, how would you sheathe it? If they're always out, I think they'd get in the way very frequently."

"That's a good question," replies the young hunter, who leans back and purses her lips. She looks to her halberd and its cover, then to her sword sheath, her equipment, and the various weapons around the room. Then, she snaps her fingers! "Aha! How about if they could be folded back over the arm, and then a leather cover could be tied or slid over them? Or even just a tied cover." All of this doesn't help her from looking rather embarrassed by the situation, red faced and fidgeting when she isn't looking right at her hands.

The canid doesn't seem bothered by the questions or Lisandra's increasing flusterment. His tail wags good naturedly. "Ah, I see… with the base of the blades on a pivot. I suppose you could fold them back over a bracer and buckle a leather flap down over it to protect the edges. The pivot would need a good deal of reinforcement to keep them from folding back in a fight." He holds his hands up in a sort of casual boxing stance, taking a few swipes as if imagining how they would feel. "Like this and this… maybe straight enough to punch a bit. Hmm… I don't think this would be as handy for close quarters as we might think at first. See, imagine if we are fighting like this, and we get into a clinch." The mastiff suddenly moves to hug Lilac.

The young hunter reflexively slips aside, almost dancing away, brows raising. "I see what you mean," she admits, leaning forward again to look and consider. "But, hmm." She steps forward again, lifting her own hands and hunching forward. She extends her fingers in a claw-like fashion, then, after thinking, issues a few swings as if she were still the beast. Being two instead of four legged allows more movement, but also makes her point of reference off. Her lips twist in frustration, then she switches stances as if she were holding a spear. "I could remove my hand in a close position and strike with the claws this way," she explains, "and possibly catch sword-blows, which I know to be possible, but that's less useful against monsters. Hmm."

Alfonse has to take a step to keep his balance when his arms close on nothing. "Oop! Apologies, I did not mean to put you off. But yes, you see." He puts his arm over a nearby mannequin instead. "See, if we are fighting close like this, I cannot turn my forearm in to cut or stab him, non? This is more what things like dirks are for, usually… for when you are tangled together. If you are still fighting upright, you will usually not wish to loosen your grip on your primary weapon." The challenge of making a claw-like weapon seems to have intrigued Alfonse though, because he does not dismiss anything, and seems to be thinking hard. "You know, I think a clawed glove might not get in the way so much if the claws are short but sturdy and sharp. They cannot wound deeply, but they can tear flesh."

The young woman holds her hands out to her sides, smiling to show there's no hard feelings. "Oh no, it's fine – I understand your intent with the movement. It's just, I'm a little uncomfortable with being touched, and, well, I am a hunter, and fought before that, so I'm always a little on edge." She glances at her friend, asking, "Do you have any input, Klaudia? I think I like the clawed glove idea, that would be more natural and less intrusive?"

Von Horne has been looking on quietly but listening closely thus far, and when she's addressed she nods, looking down at her own short, blunt claws. "Close fitting, sturdy leather gloves with some short, sturdy hooked blades at the tips shouldn't prevent you from holding your spear or sword. It's worth thinking about."

"Thank you, Klaudia. I'm sorry to have made you listen through this. I admit, I'm a bit embarrassed about talking about weapons so heatedly," she tells the Korv beside her. Giving the woman a smile, she turns back to the apprentice and asks, "Can you forge those, then? And what would be the price? I think we have some time here, we can just look at the leatherwork and chitinwork while we wait, if it's as fast."

The Korvess seems mildly puzzled more than anything. "Why would you be embarrassed discussing weapons? They're the tools of our trade, and the product of Alfonse's." The mastiff holds his hands up, speaking up as well. "It is no trouble, Miss Dragomir. I'm certain we could do this. Five claws that can be fitted into the end of a glove sturdily? And five more for the other hand. It shouldn't be hard. I could do that myself. Say, a hundred and fifty shekels for the set? I would usually charge two hundred, that's about as much iron as goes into a knife, but for friends of Mistress Von Horne, I can bargain."

"It's probably the part of me that still thinks she's a bard, and … the other part of me that has pause over this type of thing," admits Lisandra, glancing back again. She takes a breath, exhales, then nods as she looks to the young man. "Then lets make an experiment of it, shall we? I believe I can cover that with the stipend I haven't spent." She digs through her coin purse and produces the required coinage, offering it to the man. "And thank you for all your help."

The mastiff graciously accepts, his jowls pulled up into a cheery grin. "It is I who must thank you! I shall get to work. How long are you in town?"

"As long as this and any other work takes, I believe, unless my mentor has other ideas," Lisandra replies. "I would like to look in to having a mask made, so that will take a bit of time. But otherwise, night or day, I'm ready to travel."

The apprentice nods agreement. "I can have these ready for you de bon matin, the morning, say? Early afternoon at the latest, if my father has work for me. Merci."

"That's fine, I won't complain about having to rest in a city that long." Lisandra reaches over to shake the man's hand, as she had always been taught to do with a sealed agreement. "We'll be about then. Good day!" Smiling, she turns to her friend and nods. "Well, there's that. Let's hope I don't cry or something when I use them." She gestures towards the door. "To the leatherworker?"

Klaudia extends her wing in an 'after you' gesture. "I don't mind either. We'll see this made, and have a good supper and breakfast before we set out tomorrow."

"Well, you know me, I love supper," the younger huntress says, her laugh, like her voice, musical. With that, she heads in to the yard.

The trip to the leatherworker is quick, with the shopkeeper having some thick but supple dueling gloves he couldn't sell because he'd made them too small. Glad to have a chance to sell them, and curious as well at Lisandra's project, he offered to sell them at a normal price but alter then and lace the claws in for free. The rest of the evening is spent at the common room of a busy inn, with a boisterous but well behaved crowd enjoying food, drink and song. Not many of the songs are familiar to Lilac, but they're easy to pick up, and when she begins singing along with them, she finds herself in rare form, to the point where the other singing stops so they can listen to her. By the end of the night, she's earned herself the price of the gloves back, plus a few drinks from admirers and dinner from a pleased innkeeper. The rooms are small but comfortable and clean, so the night's rest is a good one.

In the morning, a visit to the smithy shows that Alphonse was as good as his word and a competent craftsman in his own right. He presents Lisandra a velvet lined tray to show her the work, ten wedges of steel in two neat rows. They're small, but thick on the backs and slightly hooked. The inward curved blades are less than an inch long at the longest, and only half an inch for the pinkies, but wickedly sharp and brightly polished. The ends that go into the glove have been shaped like rounded off hooks as well, with holes drilled through them, so that they can be laced securely into the tips of the gloves and not come loose when the pressure of a scratch is applied. "These can't slice so deeply as a knife," comments Von Horne. "But I can see how they could savage exposed skin. Bleeding and pain look to be how these work. Vicious."

The waifish, somewhat mopey-looking young huntress picks up one of the weapons and looks it over, then tests it on a thumb. Wincing, she nods approvingly. "These are excellent, tell your master I'm very happy with your work." She then turns to her friend, waggling the instrument on the end of a finger. "That's me," she says, with no small amount of wryness in her words or her lopsided grin. "Vicious."

Young Mr. De Brignac is pleased with the reception of the claws, and the leatherworker is equally impressed when he sees them, the terrier holding each one up to the light to peer at it. "De Brignac does it again. The anchors look sturdy. I'll get them laced in tightly, and I think I can use these hooks he made to get them to lock into each finger. Clever design, this. I don't think I'd want to see what these could do to a fellow." It's a short bit of awling and lacing work with tough sinew and leather scraps, and the claws are fitted tightly in, as secure as Lilac's own fingernails and rather more durable and dangerous.

The young woman takes a glove and tries it on, pulling it to fit tight. She turns her hand in the air, peering at the fit and the blades themselves. "I'll have to remember to not scratch wearing these," she observes. A few flexes later, she nods thoughtfully, then reaches to grip the length of her halberd and test the interference. "And see, there's only a slight loss of grip – nothing that's really a problem." She hands her halberd off, then removes the glove before reaching for her purse to provide the man his money. "Here you are."

The terrier gratefully accepts. "Glad you're pleased with them, miss. I hope they serve you well out there. I'm not from around here originally, but I've heard lots of stories about what lurks in those woods."

Now that she's paid, Lisandra opts to don both gloves, to better get a feel for them. She smiles at the leatherworker, saying, "Oh, well, you know, there are scary things, out there." Then she flexes her claws, in a very dramatic sort of way. "But that's what we're here for, right Klaudia?"

The Korvess says, "Mmm," in a more or less agreeable tone, and the terrier nods. He dusts his hands off and says, "Well, good hunting to you both. You know, I buy skins and hides if I can use them. Not all this stuff is Rughrat."

"We'll keep that in mind, and I'll pass that along, too. Thank you for your work, I'm very pleased with it – and do come hear me sing, next time I'm in the castle!" She wiggles her fingers in a wave that's somewhat less friendly looking with those hooked claws, then gives another smile and heads for the exit. "Off on the road then, thank you for waiting, Klaudia."

With provisions packed, Von Horne leads the way to the keep's north gate, both women squeezing through another crowd, and at one point having to wait for some drokkar riders to move past. Once outside though, there's much more room on a broad packed earth road, and the stream of travelers rapidly thins out. The two huntresses set an easy pace under typically Sylvanian leaden skies. Much of the forest around this area has been thinned as well, logging heavy around the keep, and available land for farming taken advantage of.

Lisandra shoulders her spear and looks, for all the world, quite happy about life – a significant turn of mood for the once cursed ex-bardess. Even the sky seems to maker her happy, gloomy though it is. "It's good to be out and traveling again with a friend, Klaudia. This is really more of my nature and habit, wandering the world, free. It's so much better now that it's not forced upon me. I can show my face again. All thanks to the good people I have met." Her head tilts, taking in the countryside. "And look, progress! It's difficulty to truly hate the invader, when they've done so much to make our land livable."

The Korvess takes in a lungful of the cool, rain-scented air, and sighs. "Yes… I'm more comfortable out here as well. I suppose it's always been my home, rather than some stone and mortar place, even as dangerous as it can be." She looks out over the fields of grain and orchards of fruit, then shoulders the fur mantle she'd gotten to replace the grimmer one she'd lost. "I don't have room in my heart to really hate anymore, not after the Murder. But all this progress, it's progress for the Gallisans. One day they may arrive at Rookery's gate, and I'm not sure how we'll deal with them."

"We'll have to fight, I suppose," says the apprentice with a sigh in her voice. "And then these weapons they made for us, we'll use against them. It's a sad world, but at least it's beautiful, too." She reaches over and nudges her mentor, "But we'll deal with that when and if it comes. I've been keeping notes to provide our Lordship, for just such an occasion. If we're lucky, we can work out a mutual agreement with them. Maybe our Lordship can rally the surrounding lands and ensure that they progress no further. If not, well … I'm sure we are as much assassin as hunter. Without their lords, would they really advance?"

Klaudia looks to the road ahead, the area of packed earth gradually thinning to about a wagon's width, complete with ruts. "I suppose so. I have difficulty thinking of myself as an assassin… my mother spoke of the system of lords and ladies and courts and wars, but I was still raised in the woods. Even when I went to town, I only stayed for business. I don't hold any land, that I know of… I suppose mother might have had a place back in Rookery that's rotted to the ground." The farmland gradually gives way wilder fields, tall grasses with copses of trees that become thicker and more numerous the further the pair walk.

Lisandra nods to the points, her smile having faded as the grim conversation wears on. She takes a breath, then nods a little towards the end. "I suppose it's less difficult for me, because of … Of how I began this path. I have fought men, and I have seen their works across the world, and I know that in some ways a man can be a monster, and a monster a man – myself included. Some men are dear and good, others more dangerous than the Murder combined." She looks down at her right hand, eyes distant as she flexes the talons. "Did I tell you I fought in a small war? I had been using my curse in Lady Tsuguri's service, protecting her, and if necessary, fighting her enemies. Most were men."

"No, I didn't know that," says Von Horne, turning her head sidelong to look at Lilac in that manner of birds. "For Lady Tsuguri? Was this across the sea?"

"Yes," Lisandra replies, looking back and smiling a sad smile. "I didn't know we would be entering a war, we were really just tracking Lord Vandringer and Hakuu, both men monsters of a different sort. As it happened, we were called upon to first liberate Viper's Hold – a small fortress – and then the site of the Orb of Being. I wasn't present during the first part, as I was scouting past the armies, but I rescued several commandos and helped destroy an airship. My part was rather small, in all honesty, my friends did much more – as they always do – but I did fight the warlord Beshret the Razer to a standstill." She cocks her head to the side, as well. "In hindsight, that was extremely dangerous. He was truly a fearsome man."

Klaudia whistles through her beak. "Lisandra, if I didn't know you to be an earnest woman, I'd never believe a story like that. I'd seen other peoples from far away on occasion, when I had gone into cities like Justininople, but I've never been outside Sylvania. The curse always came first, and I always had to come back to it. It sounds like you should be teaching me how to fight, and have no qualms at all, but then, I suppose you were seeing through different eyes at the time."

The young woman inclines her head. "That's it, Klaudia – I relied upon my curse. The beast fought long before I was aware that it possessed me, and even after, when Lady Tsuguri told me what I had become, it still fought in my skin. I did come to control my change, and with that the burden of murder was mine to bear for true; but, the beast still guided my claws." The woman's brow narrows, her face suddenly uncertain. "No … Maybe I did. It's difficult to know, what part was me and what was the beast. I knew it undermined my restraint, but the rest? I cannot say." She then makes a little wry smile, shaking her head. "And I was not so fearsome, even then. I preferred ambush, and when I fought directly, I failed at least once. No, I am not so grand as all that, I'm afraid. My friends were surely greater."

"Well, we take what life gives us and takes from us as it comes, do we not?" The Korvess stops at the base of a thick tree where the trail has dwindled quite a bit, now less suited to wagons than to Dromodon. She stoops down and begins unwrapping the bundle she'd been carrying on her back, holding down one side with a foot and picking it apart with her one arm and the tip of her beak. "I'm not a young woman anymore. I spent my prime fighting that curse. But now that it's over, it's time to see what the shape of my life will let me see and do."

"I think you at least have a future with his Lordship," the younger woman points out, stopping to watch her mentor work. "And if that's not to your tastes, I'm sure I can provide some more ideas with a bit of time. You're very experienced in your field, and I'm sure some one would pay greatly for that. You could become a Master at Arms – um, no pun meant, sorry! – or other functionary militant. We could propose retraining what soldiers our Lordship has to fight as hunters, a style surely more suited to our home." She shifts her halberd to her opposite arm. "I have the same problem, too. Where to go? Who to be? Do I remain here? Raise my child? Continue my journey? There is a task left unfinished, and I fear I can't rest until it is done – maybe not even then. We'll find where we belong, though. I have faith in that."

The bundle unrolls into another stack of cloth and cords, plus what looks like packages of herbs, mushrooms, a peasant cloak simpler in style than Klaudia's fur mantle, even a bucket. Von Horne shrugs out of her mantle and rolls it up to tuck away, donning the peasant's cloak, and she hides her mask under a bulky tunic that billows out when she's stooped. She comes up with a straw hat that she ties to her head, shading much of her face except for the last few inches of her long bill. "It's best to focus on the task at hand, really. Plan ahead, but work in the now." She loosely wraps the head of her spear in rough cloth and twine, the iron of the Korv spearhead concealed.

The young woman "ahhhs," when she sees what her mentor doing. Resting her halberd against the tree, she pulls her own pack out and kneels to begin rummaging through it. In short order she removes her hunter's coat, replacing it with a long, raggedy oiled leather cloak with the upper back cut out. A mantled cowl of the same material goes over her head and shoulders, largely concealed the gap in her cloak's back. She considers her gloves, then removes the one on her right hand and puts that away. Like Klaudia, she conceals her weapons, putting the crossbow and the rest back in her pack. The halberd some padding, making it look like a long stick prepared to hold another load. When done, she steps back and looks between herself and her mentor. "We look very peasanty. It reminds me of home," she says with a laugh.

"Heh. Well, we shall see if it fools our quarry. But I think a crippled old Korv forager and a young peasant girl should be tempting targets," croaks Von Horne, hefting her spear again and balancing it along her good shoulder, baskets and the bucket dangling from it. A forager's pocketed apron covers her baldric and belt loosely, draping down almost to her feet, and her crossbow lurks beneath her cloak and the feathers of her wing. Her bolas are a few lumps under her cloak. "The forest gets deeper from here, and the protection of the chevaliers doesn't go any further. This is where we'll part ways, Lisandra. We won't travel too far apart, but I won't be immediately at hand either. It's time you show that you can make it as a solitary hunter, because that is how we most often do things. I have confidence in you, Lilac. You've learned a lot. It's dangerous, but you can do this."

Lisandra regains some of her earlier cheer at the pep talk, smile growing. "Thank you, Klaudia. It's by your guidance I have come to this point, and I thank you for that as well!" She takes a deep breath, turning to regard the road and take its measure, then nods confidently. "Right, then. It's time to hunt!" She takes one step in to the gloom, the another, and with growing speed hurries down the road.