Outside 46

[Rebonack]

[Non-Enchanted Forest]

"Obviously," that guy replies, nodding his head sagely. What else would she be? "So you're a space princess. Huh. Usually I imagine space princesses being a little more snarky," he idly muses as he eats some of the soup himself.

To be fair, she has been SLIGHTLY snarky.

Just not quite Leia level snarky.

Hmm.

Eating the soup just fine. And it tastes like soup. Not just the phantasmal sort of eating he's used to whilst dreaming. This is a fair bit more 'real' than usual. Maybe the John Carter of Mars analogy isn't too far off? That would be pretty great if accurate, since John went into a sort of stasis whilst existing on Mars. If his body is back home slowly dehydrating to death that would be pretty bad. Only potential problem is figuring out how to get back. That's what he gets for poking at weird artifacts in a nameless city.

"Ah, there might be a problem on both of those points," he mentions at the talk of both names an uniforms. "I come as pictured. Mostly because I'm not... well... strictly here? Or real. I think. I've encountered some weird stuff while poking around the dreamlands, but I'm pretty sure something slightly different is going on. Regardless, think of me as a... projection? Maybe? Or a hard-light hologram if you've got those. Either way, I swap from one side of the coin to the other and it defaults to this-"

He tugs at his jacket to illiterate the point.

"-and this-"

He gestures at the exact same outfit, now cut to fit his wyvern-like body. As before, there's no transition or transformation to speak of. One simply notices that facet of him when before it wasn't apparent at all. Interestingly enough, the claw-marks in his blue tee-shirt are gone. Along with the bloodstains.

"I guess I reset at dawn. Thank goodness. I was worried those slashes were going to get infected. And I would rather not find out what happens if I die here. But! That means what I'm wearing is just as much a part of me as this is," he says, thumping his tail against the decomposed granite sand. "So, sadly, I don't know if I CAN update my wardobe. Though I guess we could try?"

A few moments pass.

He takes a few spoonfuls of soup. They really DID turn out good. The sunrise was really pretty, too. The clouds had just finished fading to cottony white when Liria had woken up. Too bad she missed it.

"And no name, either. I'm a dream-avatar. A persona. I'm not really the person I am when I'm awake. I can't claim his name since I'm not him, not really. It's better this way. Safer. You don't want to lose your name when you're wandering in the dreamlands. That's how the fae getcha'," he explains. Then grins that huge, Cheshire cat grin of his. "However, you can call me whatever you like. Nick-names are totally fine."

[Deathkeeper]

[Non-Enchanted Forest]

"Well, we are going to try, because it will make you look positively dapper, so there." Liria says, sulking as she eats her stew.
How could the universe be so cruel as to deny her the chance to see a bat-wyvern in a suit?
"You're a good cook." she says, trying to divert the conversation.

[Rebonack]

[Non-Enchanted Forest]

Honestly it isn't much of a forest. More like a high-desert with scattered trees. But if there are more than a dozen or so trees, that still counts, right? Or are we talking a non-enchanted savanna?

"Well there you go, don't want to pass up the chance to make me a dapper whatever I'm supposed to be," the guy laughs.

Interesting comment, that one.

An admission on his part that he has no idea what he is. To his knowledge, he's unique. At least one side of him is. Humans probably aren't very unique.

But who knows!

Maybe there aren't any humans where Liria comes from?

If not, then she's going to have plenty of opportunity to encounter more of them.

"I'm glad my cooking is up to princess standards. Haven't had to cook for any before, so that's another first. Pretty sure that I haven't rescued any princesses before... except if you count those dreams where you dream about playing a game... Those ones are always kind of odd."

They are. Dreams that represent viewing a film or playing a game often times get twisted all over themselves quite quickly.

"So, you were on a space ship before, I take it? Any idea how to get back there?"

[Deathkeeper]

Non-Enchanted Location

"Oh, I don't expect too much fuss. I just have to find a port and wait for them to weigh anchor.
As for you, you you try to work out what you are. Or else the children will call you a bat-o-saurus and it'll stick." The heavens forbid such an egregious nickname be bestowed upon her vassal.

[Rebonack]

[Non-Enchanted Location]

"I believe there was a spaceport in the nameless city," the guy muses as he polishes off his soup. "Truth be told, I got the impression that there was an everything in the nameless city. Which is both really fascinating and kind of troubling. Everything includes plenty of great things, and also plenty of not so great things. One way or the other, we can head toward the city whenever you're ready. I can cut the mooses loose and we can take whatever we need from the wagon."

He's probably thinking in terms of flight.

Flying is always waaaay faster than mucking about on the ground.

And then?

He wrinkles his nose at the 'bat-o-saurus' comment.

"I've never really thought about it. I'm just me. Near as I can tell I'm unique? Haven't really ever had the need to come up with a name for it before," more nose wrinkling. It probably looks rather silly. "And I'm pretty awful at coming up with names, as it happens. Nor have I had the occasion to meet a zoologist in a dreamscape who decided to assign a binomial to me."

[Deathkeeper]

[Non-Enchanted Location]

"Well, I have my things. I'm not terribly going to miss the other ladies' clothes. So we'll just have to get you suited up and then we can be on our way." Liria says with a nod, finishing her stew.
"And I'll see if I can think of something to call you on the way. But I'm also not very good with names..." she admits.

[Rebonack]

[Non-Enchanted Location]

"We should probably get moving as soon as we can, then. Things look pretty placid right now, but there's no telling white might be skulking around out here," the guy cautions.

Sure, they might be out of the dreamlands, but from the little bit of experience he's had so far with the Nexus, it's pretty clear the place isn't strictly safe. He's expecting a purple worm or a landshark or something to suddenly burst out of the ground at any moment. Of course, given that neither of them have to worry much about being grounded that's far less of a hazard than it would be otherwise. There are quite a few scary monsters that are far less scary when you can just fly over them.

"And... eerr... suit up? What exactly did you have in mind?" the guy asks cautiously.

She did say 'dapper' earlier.

Is she honestly going to try stuffing him into a gentlemen's outfit or tux or something?

There's no way that'll end well.

[Deathkeeper]

[Non-Enchanted Location]

Liria gives him an enormous grin and scurries over to the trunk. She pulls out the suit, hardly able to contain herself.
"Isn't it lovely? Oh, you'll look just adorable. And it's mostly buttons, not too much fuss." she says, with a very royal look that insists that her vassal must comply.

[Rebonack]

[Non-Enchanted Location]

Why.

Why would a dragon want a tuxedo? Let along a dragon that, for whatever inexplicable reason, is the guy's size and general build. It's almost as if someone out there were conspiring to make this situation happen. He COULD just tell her no. Because he really doesn't want to wear a tuxedo. Especially when he's going to be doing some long-distance flying. It's just so impractical!

But on the other hand...

Liria looks like she's really dead-set on this.

And he's pretty sure that she isn't the sort of person who is use to having people oppose her sovereign will.

Maybe a little lesson in the fact that some cultures don't value royalty would do her good?

Or he could just play along. He's still pretty sure this won't even work.

With a sigh, he doffs his tan denim jacket and hangs it on a nearby tree branch. Then he starts removing the t-shirt under it-

-revealing another, identical tee-shirt.

"What..." he mutters glancing between the two. He tosses the first one aside, which vanishes as soon as it touches the ground, and removes the next one.

With the exact same result.

[Deathkeeper]

[Non-Enchanted Location]

"Well! We'll just have to get it on over your shirt. No problem."

Liria immediately tries to go about doing so, no matter what protests might follow. For someone who's royalty, she seems pretty adept at this sort of thing. Claws fly around buttons almost as fast as a tailor's. With particular determination.

[Rebonack]

[Non-Enchanted Location]

After quite a bit of fidgeting-!

The guy is in the tux. Or at least the tux's jacket.

He's got his arms sticking out awkwardly and his head sorta tucked down with his neck ruff all poofed up.

He looks like an incredibly uncomfortable pigeon.

[Deathkeeper]

[Non-Enchanted Location]

And doesn't he just look adorable in that jacket and little red bowtie?
"You look like a complete gentle-drake. Oh, my dearest vassal, I will cherish this moment...."
Click! goes a little black device in her hand.
"...forever.

Now, we can go. I trust you know the direction we're going?" she asks, all innocence.

[Rebonack]

[Non-Enchanted Location]

AND NOW WITH THAT SILLINESS DONE.

The guy will retrieve his normal clothing, if only because even minor differences in the cut of that tux will inhibit his ability to fly with any degree of skill.

Once ready, he'll take off, proving to be unusually swift and agile despite his large size. He'll reign things in to make sure Liria can keep up, assuming she doesn't have some kind of enchantment in her gear to up her flying speed. Because typically something her size isn't going to be getting much above the thirty mile an hour range without some sort of preternatural assistance.

One way or the other, he'll lead her to the Skyway inside the city walls, where the Nexus' starport awaits.

Hopefully they can get her back home.

Because otherwise she's going to be stuck.

And the Nexus just loves stucking people.

[Shadowcaller]

[Galleon Rock]

Jace has found some bottled night-terror! Releasing the oneiric mist will cause it to surge around a nearby creature the user finds distasteful and will lock them into a state of sleep paralysis wherein they'll find themselves assault by phantasmal horrors! Wow, isn't that just swell? Probably not the best night-light, in that case. Jace probably picked the least friendly object in the treasure heap.

Also!

Anika is met with no explanation what so ever for the nonsense that just took place. Gotta go with the flow, Anika.

[Galleon Rock]

"You should be concerned, but there's nothing to do. It finally got the hint and left. Take your half and we can burn this place to the ground. Nothing should remain of this monstrosity." Jace says flatly. He looks in distaste at the orb as he tries to identify it. He'd put it back and get something new but that probably isn't allowed.
But why would he think the pretty thing would be worse than green slime?

[Galleon Rock]

"You're gonna burn a wet tunnel system?" Anika asks with a raised eyebrow. "Well, I won't complain if you somehow destroy this place but that gotta be some intense fire." She will claim the orb of starlight as it seemed pretty easy to carry. Could put that thing in your pocket. "So, you're going home to your child now, huh?"

[Rebonack]

[Galleon Rock]

Hey now.

Just because something is green and oozy doesn't mean it is bad! Like Slimer from the Real Ghost Busters!

The unhallowed alter will provide no resistance to being destroyed. That's probably a good thing.

[The Village of Hamletdale]

Ah, the Village of Hamletdale, a fine bustling village full of fine, young, healthy bustling people. There's one fine bustling fellow, heading to market with his fine selection of goat cheeses. And there's another, bustling along with a fine cart full of fine cabbages. And my my, look at that, there's a unfine, not-so-bustling woman rushing from one person to the next. "Joshua! Have you seen my Joshua? He's missing. Please, he was here just last night, have you seen him?"

But alas, all these fine, bustling people are just far too busy bustling about to help.

No one spares even a passing thought to her plight! They have more important business to attend, the fine, young, healthy bustling people that they are.

And so, in her moment of desperation, one of the few non-bustling villagers sends out word requesting aid from any heroes willing to help.

[Deathkeeper]

[The Village of Hamletsdale]

Poor, unfortunate villagers. Being poor and their reward small as they are, MERC has spared a rookie. That is, one overly large cook with a small little bit of combat experience and the promise of maybe one day being noticeably competent at this sort of thing.
For now, he has to rely on his surprisingly decent equipment in the form of his fancy gauntlets and Steve the Sword. And maybe some backup, whether or not that'll be coming isn't confirmed on his end. So, for now, he has to wander into town alone, and hope to all gods who'll listen that this can work out for him.

[Rebonack]

[The Village of Hamletsdale]

That's how these things always go, isn't it?

You have some minor, hardly worth while problem and someone tosses a few green adventurers in to solve it. Before long, they find out that the goblins raiding caravans had some connection to the resurrection of the demon king of doom or whatever and they end up gaining a bunch of levels, loot, fame, and saving the world. Or, y'know, they all die horribly.

But surely that isn't what's going on here!

Just look at how fine and bustling this town is! It's probably just a totally innocuous one-off. Like a kid wandering into the forest or whatever. People wave to Sam, greeting him warmly. Odd Nexus folk come through here now and again, so the villagers aren't terribly put off by Sam's unusual appearance. There doesn't appear to be anything unusual about the village at all, aside from the apparent medieval stasis that parts of Outside seem to suffer from. You know the sort, carts hitched to animals, chickens wandering around unsupervised, cottages with roofs fashined from split wood shingles, that ever-present gross aroma of no plumbing to speak of. Farmers bringing produce to market. The occasional guard in dubiously useful leather armor leaning on a spear. Children playing in the stree-

Wait.

No, there aren't any children playing in the streets, actually.

Considering the village has a few hundred people in it, there should be tons of kids. But since Sam has arrived, he won't have spotted a single one.

Weird.

Near the end of the main road, he'll spy the little shop with the sign of a crossed sword and shield hanging over it. It's a squat building fashioned mostly from rough stones and mud-brick, a chimney sticking off an out-door workshop to one side billowing smoke into the air. Sam will be able to hear the sound of the bellows and clanging metal from within. According to the contract, that's where his contact should be.

[Deathkeeper]

The Village of Hamletsville

The place sure is...quaint. Sheesh, even Skyside slums smelled better. Well, some of them did.
Sam makes sure Steve and his little gun are snug in their places. Autumn wind blows through, yet even with his open jacket with nothing underneath Sam isn’t bothered. He heads straight for the client’s building and won’t be distracted by anything. Not even food.

[Ashen Lilies]

[[The Village of Hamletsdale]

Well, a bit more than a rookie. Cassandra is new to the MERC organization itself, true, but calling her a "rookie" would stretch the meaning of the word far beyond any semblance of the truth.

A thin vertical slash of light appears in the air some distance away from the village, away from any prying eyes or inconvenient bystanders to get in the way of her entrance. The light widens a little, and a large rectangular doorway seems to rotate into view, a flat hole sliding perpendicularly into the air, slicing through a couple tall tufts of grass and dandelion stalks with an edge fine enough to make a razor seem dull. Yeah, having one of those appear inside you would be very inconvenient indeed.

Stepping through the doorway from her tower library, Cassandra is dressed unassumingly in dark trousers and a dark blue coat shaped to present an androgynous frame, as if her striking elven features and shoulder-length white hair could ever be mistaken for androgyny. A dagger hilt is plainly visible peeking up from the top of one of her boots, and an ordinary knife sits at her belt, but other than that no visible armament would signal her as an adventurer.

Taking a brief look at her handiwork, she lets the doorway fizzle into nothing before setting off towards the village.

[Rebonack]

[The Village of Hamletsdale]

Cassandra will be met with much the same lack of fanfare as Sam. Though, perhaps, she'll get a few more admiring looks from the passing men. Sorry, Sam, there aren't that many folks here who find blue pig-ogres attractive. Just one of those sad facts of life. Cassandra will find the town more or less par for course as far as ye olde villages go. One large main road. A second road that cross it at a roughly perpendicular angle. A temple with a little graveyard behind it on the city's high-ground. A general market were farmers bring their wares. A butcher shop. A leather worker's shop. A lumber mill powered by the sift flowing little river running through the town. A bridge that spans said river. An inn for weary travelers with the sign of a speared boar hanging above its door. And of course various homes representing varying levels of income. Nothing here is terribly fancy.

Though something here IS terribly odd.

The complete lack of children.

No kids playing in the streets. No boys or girls sweeping the front step of their family store. No babies in the arms of mothers.

Only adults, bustling about on their business.

Sam, meanwhile, heads into the blacksmith's shop! He mat notice a horseshoe nearly hidden in a tuft of grass near the front door of the house, discarded and forgotten. Regardless, a gruff voice will call from the adjoining outdoor shop, "Hail! What can we do for you today, sir?"

[Deathkeeper]

[The Village of Hamletsdale]

Sam would probably be more worried about these people if anyone did flirt with him. Unless they were a pig person also but he would probably be disgusted at that for a different reason.
His trotter accidentally kicks the horseshoe, and he bends over to pick it up. No matter what some people might taunt at him, he has no trouble doing this.
"Uh, I'm here representing MERC. Your village said they needed help?" he asks. That's why he came with Steve in his big intimidating shape and both his gauntlets on and his gun holster strapped. He has to look like a proper MERC on this one.

[Rebonack]

[The Village of Hamletsdale]

There's a blacksmith in the shop! Middle aged guy. Beard that looks like it has caught on fire at least once in the past few weeks. Pretty standard blacksmith fellow wearing a heavy leather apron and gloves to keep the sparks at bay.

Sam will be met with a completely blank look.

"Help with what, now?"

This may strike Sam as very strange.

Mostly because half the payment was already sent to Merc by the blacksmith and his wife. Specifically to help them find their lost son. And given that there doesn't seem to be any lost son nearby, that issue hasn't been resolved. In fact, the blacksmith doesn't seem distraught at all. Just another fine man bustling away at his forge! Looks like he's busy straightening out someone's plow right now. That's hard, heavy work! Lots of work. Fine, bustling work. The sort of work someone might be doing because they don't have anything else to worry about right now.

Which is weird.

[Deathkeeper]

[The Village of Hamletsdale]

Sam frowns, placing the horseshoe on the counter of the shop with a thump.
"Help with your son. He's missing. You sent a pretty hefty sum to MERC to look for him, remember?" Sam asks. Well, what he considers hefty for a family. Not so much for the company as a whole.

[Ashen Lilies]

[The Village of Hamletsdale]

Cassandra makes her own way to the blacksmithy, definitely taking note of the lack of children around in the streets while internally scowling (while outwardly studiously ignoring) the attention she's getting from the men. She enters quietly, slipping through the doorway to lean against the frame and observe if she can.

[Rebonack]

[The Village of Hamletsdale]

Our heroes may spy a brief glimmer of hope in the expression of the blacksmith, but it's quickly replaced with a glower. "What are you talking about? I don't have a son. Now get out of my shop and stop wasting my time!"

Well.

That probably wasn't the response they were expecting.

The horseshoe sits on the counter, by the by. Just sits there. Like an inanimate object. Most lumps of iron would be jealous of just how motionless that horseshoe is.

[Deathkeeper]

[The Village of Hamletsdale]

"Fine, it's your money." grumbles the pig, who turns (and takes the horseshoe because myeeeeh) and runs into Cass.
"Oh, hello Ms. Cassanda! Are you my backup?" he asks, bowing and bobbing his head.

[Ashen Lilies]

[Village of Hamletsdale]

Cassandra nods at Sam, both as greeting and as answer to his question.

She raises her eyes to look at the blacksmith, stepping forward slightly to get his attention.
"Where do the children in the village play? Perhaps we can ask some of the others about the boy we're looking for."

[Rebonack]

[Village of Hamletsdale]

Again, there's a brief inkling of understanding in the blacksmith's expression, but just as quickly he gives his head a shake as if trying to dislodge an annoying fly from his hair. "Ain't no children in this village. Never have been. Now scram!"

Well.

That seems tremendously unlikely. A village of this size would vanish in a single generation if no one was having kids. That's a simple fact of demographics. Something else must be going on.

[Deathkeeper]

[Village of Hamletsdale]

Sam grumbles, trotting over to Cassandra.
"You got any of that uh, magic that can help us find things? I don't know if we would have time to just look around the miles around the place. Or a playground. I can only sniff so far." he whispers to her.

[Ashen Lilies]

[Village of Hamletsdale]

"Look at him. The man's obviously been befuddled," says Cassandra, frowning at the blacksmith. "No children in the village," she says flatly. "None."

She reaches out with a thin probe of magic, settling it into the blacksmith's forehead as she waits for his response. At the range she's standing, she can detect any blatant or obvious magical buggery that might be affecting his mind.