Crossing the Fens

Crossing the Fens
Date of Scene:	03 October 2012
Location:	Western Continent - Tramdine Fens
Synopsis:	Once upon a time in a dreary mire... three like individuals cross paths...
Cast of Characters:	Morgan Albaste, Skoll Ulfang, Zia

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Morgan Albaste has posed:
The Baronian gentleman could only take her 'so far', before the owner of the small cart elected to stop resolutely at the edge of the Fens. He asked the silent Elf is she was 'sure about this'; if she would 'consider staying in Baron to wait for a form of air travel'. The Tramdine Fens spooked the chocobo that was pulling the cart, and the older man did not wish to take the risk of coaxing the bird through so gloomy and trecherous a place. That's all he needs, to have the bird flip out or slip on the rocks and pull the entire cart over.

The farmer, who had carried Morgan as far as he could manage, thought the Elven woman mad for traversing the swamps by foot.. /alone/. What lunatic would forgo a warm bed at an inn and set off, at morning's light, into this awful place?

... a woman who knows where she is going, simply put. Seeking out the barest impression of a pathway that she can find; marking the safest stretch of rocks to hop across in hopes of reaching solid land. To Morgan Albaste, this is simply the licks she must take to reach her bastion of safety: her home, in Cornelia. Clad head-to-toe in a svelte black and wine-red cloak, the tall woman seems almost wraith-like as she navigates the gloomy Tramdine Fens. So far, she is doing well... the ground is getting a /bit/ more stable....

Still, the Elf is not perfect. She stumbles on a rock and though she does not go over on her ankle, she gets said ankle firmly locked into a pool of mud. One foot on a rock, the other submerged, Morgan glares down at the mud balefully from within her hood. Her lips move in Elvish... even her expletives sound elegant.

Zia has posed:
How in the world did she end up /here/? So, Zia had taken the same portal from Manhattan that had earlier brought her to Traverse town, and yet somehow rather than leaving her on the beach as it had the previous day, now she finds herself coming out at the edge of an unfamiliar land, with the stench of mire heavy in the air. Maybe it was because that traveler in the dark cloak had knocked her out of the Dark Passage the last time? But seriously, who of all people would want to build a highway between worlds... into a swamp?

Ugh. The mud clings to her toes, the smell assaults her nose, and well... it's frankly quite creepy. Alas, the elegant Elf is not the only one making some interesting commentary, although the ones from Zia's lips are in a distinctly less flowery language. "oh ye great foul thing, oh just be buggered te hell wi' all of ye!" She glares back the way she'd come, and just when she might have given up and just gone back... something else starts coming through instead. Whatever it is, it barely fits through the portal, a big round belly and small limbs, but clearly one of those dark creatures. What had the man in the black suit called them? Heartless?

With her way back blocked, the gargress has no choice but to scramble up one of the scrawny looking trees that stretch out through the swamp, getting herself high enough up to launch herself skyward. There aren't many updrafts over the swamp, so it takes quite a bit of her magic to just keep her aloft. She skims over the trees like some huge demonic bat, eventually passing somewhere close to the place where Morgan happens to be stuck.

With the shadows of the forest, the gargress' landing probably seems more like some giant monster settling in the branches, eyeing up a particularly juicy bit of prey. That isn't the case, of course, and Zia moves a bit closer, keeping herself slightly concealed by the thick foliage above. It wouldn't be hard to hear her landing, or the way her movents shuffle the leaves around her. It even causes a few branches to fall, droping with *thoomps* into the muck around the Elf. Either way, all the rustling about probably makes it seem more like something is about to attack, than her just being a curious observer.

Skoll Ulfang has posed:
The heartless that Zia had seen were around for a reason. They were trying to find someone specific - and it may very well be Morgan who unnaturally attracts the beings without her knowing. Or with her knowing. Who knows? Is the player re-using the word 'know' too much?

So we have a Gargoyle and an Elf in a swamp. And in order to make this into an even stranger pairing, a werewolf has been added to the mix. Wearing a white mask of sorts to his face, that almost looks like the young man has been muzzled, Skoll has been wandering this Swamp... well... lost. Normally he trusts his nose to lead him where he needs to go, and he doesn't particularly feel like using a portal to leave this place. It's this thing about a warrior's pride and being able to find one's way.

But there's another reason he's not left yet. And that's the fact that he is being followed by a small group of wolves, wandering right after him. They seemed friendly enough, and even shared a kill with him for some reason. Skoll of course, had not been rude enough to decline, but apparently in accepting it had caused them to start following him. He's really... not quite sure why. Maybe they think he's an Alpha? Maybe it's something far more magic. The fact of the matter is, he's kinda stuck with them.

So, this little procession of wolves and the wolfish young man, wandering through the swamp, manages to take note of a figure that just fell over. And Skoll, being his usual self, is quick to move towards the fallen creature. Especially as he'd just seen a darkish shadow plant themselves heavily on one of the trees above them. It may be a monster, perhaps the fallen one needs protecting.

He comes to a halt not a meter away from the elf, the wolves staying a few more behind, and ends up offering a hand to Morgan - the pretty elf who has fallen over. "Are you alright, m'lady?" The respectful and quite noble sounding... punkish young man asks. Really, there's some serious dissonance going on between his looks, and his behavior and voice.

He then glances right back on up to the tree, and tries to situate himself between the elf and the tree, glancing up now and again - his hair bristled and his tail wagging in that way it does with dogs who feel 'on edge'.

Morgan Albaste has posed:
Rest assured, dear Zia, the other one who traverses this mire isn't too keen on the stench either. Be it from the stagnant, brackish water or whatever manner of creatures reside here.. it's not nice. To skirt the Fens is to add an entire day onto her journey; to go through as quickly as possible, Morgan shall see Cornelia before night sets in. The Elf already has a head start on the gargeress whom, unbeknownst to Morgan, has found herself in this nasty place. However, the mage's senses are finely tuned.. did she just hear a woman's voice on the wind...? She /did/ spy a hut off in the distance.. mayhaps from that area..?

Morgan freezes, distracted from the mud sucking at her boot-clad foot, chin canted as she both 'hears' and 'feels' signs of her not being quite alone here, in this gloom. There is a point of Darkness which arises upon Morgan's mental radar... but more obviously, something just careened overhead and landed in the treetops! As a result, lesser twigs and leaves rain down around her prone form, settling forlornly atop the mud's surface. Morgan's hooded head moves as if to glance down at this litter, before slowly glancing skyward again.

In a place such as this, one must be prepared. Though she has crossed this mire a few times already, Morgan is not so cocky as to be flippant. Already she is willing magic forth, feeling the chill of it imbuing her bones. Dark magic shall do her no good, here... Morgan must turn to her secondary choice. A thin, white mist of breath begins to rise delicately from within the woman's hood..

Her voice, low and melodic, has begun to chant slowly... though not to culminate into a spell. She pauses at that point of no return and finds, to her further unease, that /more/ have arrived! A... a man.. and wolves! /What/ is this?! She's being watched from the trees; from the ground! She's surrounded! Immediately Morgan begins attempting to wrench her foot free from the mud, and that is when Skoll speaks to her in a surprisingly.. eloquent way. "Stay b----...." Blink, her hooded head levels upon Skoll as the Elf within stares outright at him, trying to make sense of it /all/. "I..." She looks toward the treetops again.

".. I am stuck, sir. Take my hand, and lend me aide.. I need leverage.." Morgan requests, extending a lithe alabaster hand. Her eyes do not leave the treetops, and the form within!

Zia has posed:
Having only just left behind the Heartless, hearing even more approaching footfalls only serves to draw Zia's ears around towards them. These aren't human though, nor shadow-monster, but... animal? She moves a little closer, shifting along one branch, drawing her cloak in around herself and her hood up. It's dark enough to keep her barely visible, just a dark splotch where some light might have otherwise filtered through.

But then, there's the familiar form of Skoll followed by... wolves? Maybe being a werewolf makes you a pied-piper for them or something. From her vantage point, she can easily track his approach towards the trapped Elf, but she can't quite make out the chanting. There is that moment of doubt - maybe she should just take wing and leave the Dark-Lord-Serving-Would-Be-Hero to take care of things.

And that's when she hears the sound of a tree being knocked over behind her. Damnit. Trouble really does seem to follow her sometimes, doesn't it? Or maybe it's following the Elf, or Skoll, who knows? Either way. "Dinnae ye be givin me tha look, Skoll Ulfang." It's a woman's voice that speaks from the trees, her familiar accent phrasing the werewolf's name. "Ah'm not the one ye should be worried 'boot. It's the Heartless tha're comin this way as we speak."

She drops from the tree, landing in a crouch. At first, it might be hard to make out much of the girl's form, but those feet are certainly not human. They are large, digit-grade, and tipped with sharp talons that dig into the earth beneath her feet. The rest of the gargress is covered by a cloak, which is pulled around herself. Still, some of her pale features are visible in the shadows of the hood. "Unless yer wantin to play the hero again, we should probably get movin."

Skoll Ulfang has posed:
The fact that magic was drawn into the air is something of an unknown to Skoll. He knows magic, he knows that people can cast it, but he doesn't naturally 'feel' magic. What he does feel is that 'something' about this Elf feels familiar. He himself is no Shadow Lord, so would have no chance of recognizing Morgan for anything but a simple elf in dire need of help. And a beautiful one at that, for certain - much like Zia had her own wisp-like beauty about her.

"You have nothing to fear of me, M'lady." Skoll commented not too long after his initial worlds, to ensure that she were calmed. After all, she'd tried to tell him to stay back. The wolves take a few steps back however, as if commanded by Morgan's deep dark nature. This is a fact that goes entirely unnoticed by Skoll however. He's too concentrate on the lady in need of help.

"I shall give you leverage." Skoll whispers, moving one hand out to the woman's robed side, and his other to meet with her own extended hand. Like that, he might both pull her up, and steady her at the same time. His boots do well enough to keep him well grounded in the mud, so he won't sink in. He glances up at the tree once again, trying to make sure that whatever is there won't pounce them... when a voice seems to escape the tree.

He recognizes that accent anywhere. He's only met her a few times, but now it's almost starting to feel like he's being followed by her. Or maybe he was following her? It matters little. The girl falls down from the tree, and he recognizes her - cloak or no cloak. He quickly glances back to the elf, and is quick to say; "She's a friend."

The werewolf then glares into the direction of the tree being knocked down not too far from them. A Large Body seems to be following Zia. "Quite the troublemaker, aren't you?" Skoll says, before he... reaches out. Morgan may be the one to notice this far more than Zia - but both being magical of some sorts might realize that something is done by Skoll. He reaches out towards the heartless in a most invisible manner. And without speaking a word, and with the mere flick of a finger, he commands the Heartless to leave.

It stares, as if stunned, right there before them - too stupid at first to understand... and then suddenly just turns around and walks the other way. "Seems it won't bother us after all..." Skoll words, trying his best not to make this into a lie.

Morgan Albaste has posed:
Funny how a solitary undertaking such as this journey to Cornelia has evolved into a chance to meet all manner of beings! Morgan, in a more subdued setting, certainly wouldn't be /this/ standoffish; if anything, she'd be given to curiousity. However, she can feel the presence of that Heartless creature.. and that which had been left behind by Malachy (even in death) responds to this. The Seal of Heresy is not so easily erased.. and like all insistant marks, even when rubbed off there are still stains. The Elf's nerves are frazzled, but not enough to warrant the nauseous feeling that has arisen in her gut. It's a deep fear that Morgan cannot quite put a finger on..

Startled into awareness -- she didn't even notice that she was zoning out -- by Skoll's touch, the Elf grips his hand feebly at first and then, abruptly, with a degree of strength. As a result of preparing magic, Morgan's palm is icy to the touch.. though slowly, even that is abating. By way of Skoll's efforts, the Elf's foot is freed from the gunk and she stumbles forth to find footing upon a rock, though not without the werewolf's aide. Finally, she can look upon her helper... and if Morgan is startled by both ears and tail -- the overall wolfish 'feel' -- .. she does not let on. Her features yet remain shadowed, though discernable up close.

"Thank you," She says softly, though pauses as the man addresses whatever lurks in the trees above. This 'whatever' becomes 'whom' as, suddenly, a female voice addresses Skoll! Down Zia goes, landing easily upon strong (clawed!) feet, and Skoll nips the next crisis in the bud by telling Morgan that 'she is a friend'. Immediately Morgan tries to discern what she can of the gargress, though the cloak hides her well.. and upon speaking of the Heartless that approaches, Morgan feels another wave of unease.

The Large Body breaks through the foliage and Morgan faces it, her fair skin becoming stark and sickly as her hands draw forth toward her chest, fingers knitting together. She looks as if she is going to /approach/ the creature until... Skoll... commands it away! Morgan inhales deeply, and crouches atop the broad rock upon which she stands. It appears that she.. needs a moment. c.c

"Thank you.. both of you.." She says gently.

Zia has posed:
"Hey!" Zia protests, "It wasnae me. I cannae pull great lumberin dark beasts outta my arse last ah checked." The gargress shifts, obviously ready to make a run for it with or without them. That is when the Large Body appears, and like any slightly frightened creature, Zia's ears tuck down and she takes a few stumbling steps backwards. Damn that cloak! It gets knotted into her talons again, and delays any attempt at escaping as she has to grab onto a nearby tree for balance.

It's quite a sight to see the huge Heartless just stop dead in its tracks, then turn and start to lumber away. Oh, you can bet that the gargress is shooting a certain wolf-boy a skeptical look at this turn of events. "Must be nice te be part of the dark side." She notes, then waggles her hand in the air. "These arenae the tasty morsels ye are lookin for." Yes, the gargress is clearly immitating a Jedi mind trick, but it's likely that no one here except her gets the joke.

Pulling her cloak free, the gargress can't help but let her eyes find the Elf looking... distinctly frazzled. "Are ye alright, lass?" While she might not exactly be the sort to dash in to save the fair maiden type, it doesn't mean that Zia doesn't care - at least a little. "Ye look white as a sheet."

Skoll Ulfang has posed:
"Doesn't mean you don't attract trouble." Skoll muses right on back, grinning a wolfish grin at Zia, and watches her get stuck. It's perhaps a good thing he decided to make it wander on off, instead of fighting it. The girl gets tangled after all. His attention returns to Morgan, whom he has just helped onto a stone and has standing up straight. It's because of this atetntion however, that he notices just /when/ it is that she'd gone pale. The way her fingers get together, the way she almost steps towards it. He catches the signs... and it worries him.

This girl is like him... a tendency to just heed the darkness, and obey it. "You are quite welcome." he whispers, and then glances over to Zia who has caught onto the little 'gift' this werewolf carries with him. "It has its perks." Skoll jokes along with it, even though the issue is certainly far more serious than it may be obvious at first. The creature then tilts his head a little, and he does that 'confused dog look' on her when she mutters something about tasty morsels. He gets that she's trying to go for a pop-reference. But it's a pop-reference he doesn't get.

He decides to shrug and moves a little aside so that Zia can get closer to Morgan, and he agrees with the white-as-sheet thing. Though, she /is/ an elf. "Yes, she's white even for an elf." Skoll mutters and reaches into his pockets for some of the dried bacon he has on him.

Ahhh! There we go! That's why the wolves were following!

Within moments of unpacking the dried bacon in an attempt to help Morgan, there's suddenly about five wolves trying to get closer to them - nudging and pushing - trying to also get a chance at the food.

Morgan Albaste has posed:
It is Zia whom Morgan hears, predominantly, even as the Elf watches the large Heartless lumber off as if it's fancy were caught elsewhere. Simple as that. Still kneeling, Morgan pushes herself upright and hardly seems as bothered as she /should/ be, with the hem of her cloak now muddied. Zia's comment on pulling dark beasts out of... hn, 'unmentionable' parts of one's body... that could have drawn forth a chuckle from the Elf. Had she not been, well.. trying not to puke!

So acute is this dissention, brought on by a creature that is both a surprise and so very familiar... with the Heartless now departing, the Elf can recover. Slowly.

Facing Zia first as she makes a very credible observation, Morgan pushes back her hood and allows the rank but /cool/ air to touch her face. A few deep breaths -- through her mouth c.c; -- and the Elf looks upon the hooded gargress with a weary expression. She is indeed very pale.. even for an Elf. "I will be, miss. Greater Heartless such as that tend to... put me into a bit of a state. The lesser ones, not so much.." She tries to offer as an assurance. "T'is expected to happen upon such things, here in this rather.. unfortunate swamp.. I should have known better.." She trails off, not suspecting in the least that the Heartless may or may not have been homing in on her.

To Skoll next, as he produces bacon for his wolf pals, Morgan thanks him once more with a bow of her ebony-haired head. A silver circlet catches the feeble afternoon sunlight, glinting slightly... judging by the finery the Elf is nobility, it seems. But then, the money question...

"How.. how did you do that? You are of the dark side..? Is that it?" Morgan asks, looking so incredibly tired at this moment. She asks this even as the wolves charge forth, each campaigning for bacon...!

Zia has posed:
"Hrmph." Zia gives a little sound in the back of her throat, obviously not enjoying being considered a 'trouble magnet'. Then again, if her life is any example, then it's probably true. "Aye, maybe ah do, but usually only when yer around. Maybe it's jus yer wolfish charm that attracts all manner of foul beasts. Ye've even found yerself a fan club." She motions at the wolves, who she'd normally have avoided if it weren't for the fact that they seem to be following him around like big fluffy lemmings.

She gives a soft sort of laugh, rolling her eyes, "Aye, perks is it? Ah suppose ye should at least get somethin ou'a the deal." Even after running into Skoll multiple times, Zia still isn't quite sure what to make of his dark allegiances. It's not that she's the gleaming image of a fairytale princess, but at least she isn't being dragged around by the leash like some, well... dog.

When Skoll ends up occupied by his wolfish friends and that bit of bacon, Zia's eyes come back around towards the Elf, who seems to be returning to herself now that the Heartless has moved off. "They put me in a right state, too. Usually the state o scarperin away fast as ah can manage." She takes a few steps closer to the dark-haired woman. oddly enough, for how fearsome she might have looked in the trees, the gargress is actually a bit shorter than Morgan. "Probably nae a good time te be travelin alone, nae unless ye can take te the air rather than on foot. Old ways lead te new places, an' the world is all topsy turvy wi'h all sorts o monsters."

She could, by many people's rights, be considered one of those monsters, and as she speaks, there is that sign of fanged teeth and the shift of oversized ears beneath the cloak. "Oh, dinnae worry yerself too much over Sir Wolf over yonder. He's harmless. All noble and the like. So much as ah've seen anyways." She folds her arms over her chest, revealing a inhuman digits and taloned fingers. "Best te be wary either way, though. Cannae trust anyone these days. Nae even me." The gargress smirks.

Skoll Ulfang has posed:
One would wonder just how badly Morgan would fare in a battle in which the Heartless may wish to do her harm. After all, not all Shadow Lords know of her, and certaintly not all of those who can control Heartless are Shadow Lords specifically. Skoll here is an example of this very fact. Skoll continues to wear that silly little white facemask to stop the godawful scent of the swamp from making his eyes tear, and nods his head at the both of them.

A glance then travels to Morgan specificly. After all, she asked him a question. "It's a little trick. Reach out with the darkness, leash them... control them." He moves his hands about a little and crushes his fist as he words to control them. "And then command then. The task is but simple, if you can garner enough control and darkness." Ah, there we go, now you sound like a proper badguy. But then he has to go and get into a more relaxed stance again.

"I'm glad you are fine though. I would not have wanted to see a Lady such as yourself hurt." A glance then goes right on back to Zia, and then down to the 'fan club' He's still holding his hands high enough that the wolves can't get to the bacon. "Look here, y'all. Gotta wait for the lady. So /sit/." His voice is commanding, but he doesn't bark it out. There's just this unique element to his voice, perhaps its his own darkness gripping and lashing out in general - as he demands all about him to 'sit'.

The wolves sit down immediately, tongues hanging out.

The man then looks back to Zia again from the wolves. "I agree with the Gargess though, this isn't a good time to be traveling alone." Pause. "What /is/ you name anyhow?" Seems he just noticed how he doesn't actually know Zia's name. "As for trusting people - she's right. Don't trust me or her. We're completely untrustworthy." Is that sarcasm? Or is he truly just going along with it?

Morgan Albaste has posed:
The exchanges between Skoll and Zia are heard by Morgan, yet at the same time they are an echo in her mind; she is not zoning out but there comes that nausea again, though to a lesser degree. She did not lie upon saying that the lesser Heartless do not bother her so... but unbeknownst to the Elf, the 'big bruiser' variety of Heartless -- ie. the Large Body -- had been a favorite of Malachy's.

Very often, the Shadow Lord employed them. Not to be melodramatic... but it's true! She can still smell the bacon; she hears the wolves panting desperately for what is known, to some, as the 'candy' of meats! She breathes deeply through her mouth, because the fetid scent of stagnant water will only serve to agitate her gut more. Before long, she is unfurling herself from her crouched position. Tossing her head back, Morgan turns to face Zia as the gargress regards her. Only a couple of inches taller than Zia, Morgan nonetheless has to tilt her head down just barely to look upon her.. again, what she can discern. Pale eyes flit to the taloned fingers; the 'bumps' which arise in the hood's fabric as ears lift. Morgan tilts her head, though her observation of Zia is not rude.

"Thank you, m'lady. You've a most... distinct way of speaking. I rather like it." Morgan remarks of Zia's accent, genuinely intrigued. "T'was foolish of me to press into these swamps by myself, but it was the fastest way.. I do so wish to get home. T'is only a bit further, to Cornelia.."

Skoll, having had to settle his fanclub, receives Morgan's regard. Her hooded head turns to face him as he describes the nature of his power over the Heartless, and the Elf's hands lift to knit at her abdomen apprehensively. "I.. do not think I could manage that... to reach out with darkness, to control such... /things/.... seems a formidable task.." She whispers.

PFFAH! If only she /knew/ what Malachy had willed her to do! Through his will -- literally, as he acted /through/ her -- Morgan had once upon a time not only directed Heartless, but /crushed/ insubordinates! Skoll addresses his brood again, commanding them to /wait/, and Morgan's fingers rest delicately to her collarbone.

"Best feed them, sir.. lest they lose their senses with hunger. I give permission." Morgan declares, a hint of humor to her tone.. though not overt. To look into the hood is to see the barest sign of a smile. Skoll soon asks of Zia her name, and the Elf looks toward the gargress curiously.

Zia has posed:
Maybe it is the slightly green tinge to the poor Elf's complextion, or the mask that Skoll still wears, but she finally seems to be reminded of the smell in the air around them. For someone who has managed to eat for the past few years by scrounging from garbage cans, her nose doesn't quite react as strongly as it probably should. "Here, let m' help ye, lass. The air cannae be good for wha'ever it is that ailes ye." The gargress closes her eyes, extending one hand out, using some thread of her power to pull down fresh air from high above, sweeping it through the area around them.

Taking a deep breath, "Tha' should help a little." Where Skoll seems to be able to weave darkness around him, this girl seems to have some talent with the winds - where they seem to heed her call, even without the aid of incantations or spellbooks. The bit of explination regarding how the wolf controls those heartless minions, though, it is something out of one of those books she's spent far too much time reading. "Aye, there's the lil' minion o' the Dark Lords ah been expectin'. Next ye'll be tellin me how ye crush souls beneath yer boots." It does send a shiver down her spine. For all that the wolf had been kind to her, his allegiances certainly lay many things to quetsion.

Luckily, the plight of the young Elf seems to be a suitable distraction from her thoughts, "Ah'm originally from Sco'land, m'self. Although ah live in Manhattan nowadays. Suppose that yer some sorta Elf, ah'd wager ye wouldnae have heard of either place." She reaches out a hand, trying to lay those strange shaped fingers onto Morgan's shoulder. "How're ye feelin?" While Zia tended to try to avoid contact directly with the humans of her world, it doesn't mean that there isn't a good heart under everything else. More-so, perhaps, because there is a thread of commonality between these three - since they have all been, or still are, slaves to darkness in some way. "If ye need, ah can take ye as far as the outskirts. Ye don't look too heavy, and ah should be able te carry ye."

With the gargress's wings still hidden, the idea might sound a little bit silly. Yet, she ends up distracted from the task at hand by Skoll's question, raising her hooded gaze towards the young punk-looking wolf, her tail twitching slightly. "M' kind dinnae have names. Does the sky need a name? Or the moon at night?" The girl looks skyward, but there is no seeing the moon or the stars from here. With another irritated twitch of her tail, she lets out a breath. "Ah suppose if ye have to call me anythin, then Zia would suffice. It's the name a human gave me." She shrugs indifferently.

Skoll Ulfang has posed:
"I... didn't always have that gift." Skoll whispers. "It was granted upon me by my Lords - as they saved my life after the destruction of my world, which came at the hands of..." He pauses. "Well, I guess it matters little. Sorry. I'm talking a bit too much." He offers a few pieces of bacon to Morgan then. "You look like you need it, especially after meeting that Heartless." He tells her, and awaits for her to take it, before he turns around and aims his attention at the wolves themselves.

He's about to give them their bacon, when Zia's wind sweeps in and sends his hair fluffing up a little, before he looks about a slight confused. The magic had come out of nowhere for him. "That always amazes me... mages..." Skoll comments, moving his hand to his mask and pulling it off over his head. Seems he figured the intention out at least. He pockets the mask, and then starts tossing bacon into the mouthes of the waiting wolves.

"So Cornelia you say? I was trying to find my way there in fact." Skoll doesn't really do that whole lying thing much. He's that whole honorful evil brainwashed minion guy. "If you wish I can escort you the rest of the way there, if you point me the way." A glance moves to Zia. "And it may serve our white haired gargess~" Pause. "~Zia, to join us. Especially after her offer to deliver you already. After all, who knows of heartless decide to try and find us again. It's... better to travel in groups."

Seems he likes her name though, his tail wagging a little as he speaks it. "Still, yes. It's nice to have names. The moon has a name, depending on the world, as do some skies. It's far easier to refer to a person by name than it is by 'hey you' or 'friend' - for you might mean one in specific rather than another." Skoll shrugs his shoulders. He's used to weird people, it'd seem. "Oh, and no." He pulls one of his feet up. "These boots are not made for walking all over souls. They're made for walking over ground. Really... who would want to crush souls?"

Yeah Zia, don't be silly! And back he goes to feeding the wolves.

Morgan Albaste has posed:
The hooded gargress proves to be the bearer of other surprises! Morgan is just accepting a piece of bacon delicately, when.. at once.. a gust of wind sweeps throughout and around the assembled group, whisking away the foul scents as one would clear a table! The water ripples and lank grass sways.. and for a few minutes, a reprieve is granted. Morgan pulls back her hood and cants her chin up, breathing deep.. banishing the dirty air from her lungs. "Ah," She says softly, black lashes fluttering. Thanks to Zia, that nauseous tinge that has arisen upon Morgan's fair features seems to clear instantaneously, a faint flush touching her cheekbones.

"But I needed that.... to clear my mind.." She whispers, and faces the hooded gargress properly. The bacon is still pinched between her fingertips, but her eyes remain locked upon Zia's semi-obscured face. Morgan is in possession of a piercing bluish-gray pair of eyes, and one can only imagine how baleful they could look when incensed. But no, there is nothing but kindness there. Kindness and, unfortunately, a testament to Morgan's tiredness: faint, dark shadows beneath those eyes.

"A wind mage, then... a wind mage from... from Sco'land. I am indeed an Elf and forgiveness, my lady... I've never be to such a place.." Morgan says softly, her imitation of Zia's accent ('Sco'land') not the very best. "I am feeling better, miss.. though anxious to depart these swamps. Though..." A glance to Zia's cloak. "I.. should not wish to impose, to have you carry me. I would be a burden, especially toted by foot." Yup, no clue that Zia has wings! "We've.. not far to go. I could use the companionship, and if you desire a rest... my home is safe."

That said, Morgan presses her lips daintily to the bacon strip though does not yet bite. She looks next to Skoll, in thanks. "I appreciate this... the snack, and the offer to help. I implore that we depart this swamp together," Morgan pauses, looking toward the man's swaying tail. It seems that she is the only one without that sort of appendage! She watches the wolves eat the bacon with glee, and finally she takes a bite. Pale eyes rest upon Skoll for a moment, as she ponders inwardly the man's circumstance... the destruction of his 'world'...? 'Lords'...?

Zia has posed:
Even as Skoll whispers those words, it's easy enough for the larger ears of the gargress to follow them. "Ye dinnae 'ave te justify yerself te me, Skoll Ulfang." Of course, she's justifyably wary. Like both of them, Zia has had her turn with darkness, and it still lingers within her. For all she knows, he could be just another of those seeking to use her power for some greater purpose of her own. Just another dark master looking for a way of making her into their puppet. Then again, one look at the wolf makes it seem unlikely.

"Ah suppose ye could consider me tha, aye." The gargress shrugs her shoulders, "Though it wouldnae cover half of it." She draws back the hood of her own cloak, letting her ears come free. They are quite different from Morgan's, or even Skoll's, but perhaps closer to the Elven variety, if a bit more expressive. "Ah'm afraid ye won likely get a chance. Tha part of m' world is gone now. Lost like all the stars tha have gone dark."

The prospect of carrying the Elf on foot brings a laugh though, and from behind the gargress, two large wings unfold. Her wing span certainly dwarfs her height, the bat-like appendages barely able to stretch out with the trees and swamp still closing in around them. "Ah wouldnae be carryin ye on foot." The slowly cape again, folding in over her shoulders and nearly vanishing entirely beneath the dark blue cloak. "But if ye insist on walkin, then ah suppose it's as good a direction as any. Ah might be able te find one of those portals back to m' own world, if ah'm lucky."

She shrugs off the use of her name, giving the wolf only a half glance. "If ye insist." Her arms fold over her chest, revealing those bandage-wrapped arms, raising a brow as she motions at his feet. "Ah wouldnae know. Tha's usually the way of those who call themselves Dark Lords." While he's busy feeding his wolves, the gargres stakes a moment to bend down, using her sharp talons to break off a few bits of reed sticking out from the swamp. Just what she plans on doing with them is anyone's guess.

Skoll Ulfang has posed:
"It's unfortunate, to hear that so many worlds are falling to the Heartless." Skoll notes with honest regret. "There's some I visited shortly, but never found my way back to thanks to them. They seem to be like a plague, getting into everything. And their masters certainly are not helping." Suggesting that he is not 'one of their masters'. One must keep in mind, the Gaudium Lords care mostly about power and domination over the world. Just needlessly letting worlds be swallowed is not exactly their M.O.

"With each start that turns dark, another one has fallen. Yet this one - this world - it still shines. But its shine is... strange. And big." The werewolf seems to mostly be muttering to himself. And it doesn't take long for him to realize just how confusing he must be in order peoples' eyes. Or rather, to their ears. "Never mind me. Anyhow, you're welcome for the Bacon. It's just... a simple gift. And I think the gargess has served you better than my food has." After all, this stench...

"I hope that you can keep up a wind like that, so we don't have to smell that god-awful scent again." Skoll then pitches to Zia. "Though I do wonder - where are you getting this whole 'Dark Lords' thing. It sounds like your world has a lot of them, for you to know so much of them. What are they like?" Skoll seems honestly interested right now, as he begins to move further down the path, waiting for the girl to properly take the lead and get them out of here.

Morgan Albaste has posed:
.. alllrighty then! Looks like Morgan was just a /little/ mistaken. She's still trying to figure out Zia's offer, unable to lose the mental imagery of the peculiar woman with the strong accent potato-sacking an Elf through the swamplands. But no, nothing as outlandish as that. In an instant, a pale halo of fleshy bat-like wings unfold from Zia's slight self! Though Morgan prides herself in being open-minded to the many beings who cross these worlds... Zia happens to be the /first/ gargoyle! An almost comical expression flits across the Elf's noble visage, her lips pursing around the remaining two bites of bacon that she has left to her.

"A--ah..." She exhales, a blush coloring her features properly. "Now I see.. now I see what you mean, dear lady." Morgan whispers, clearly transfixed.. and in the lower pitch of her tone, bits of her own ancient accent may be discerned. "But I still cannot bring myself to impose upon you... especially if you already wield a certain boon that may grant us an easier passage." The Elf says softly to Zia, indicating with a sweeping motion the wind magic that she wields. "If we make haste by foot, we can all find safety.. whether via portals or Cornelia."

Offering the fair gargress a fond look, she turns to Skoll next as he bids that she do the same. With a craning of her slender neck and a nod toward one particular stretch of rocks, Morgan begins to lead the way. It is to Skoll whom she speaks, once again. "You hold much knowledge, it seems, of what happens to unfortunate worlds... my own included. To look upon you, man of the wolves, I ask of you now the nature of the world you once knew. Were there many others like... like you?" She starts, pauses. Blushes. "I mean not to offend... but like the lady Zia, I've not seen one of your ilk before.."

Another pregnant pause, as the rocks become more plentiful.. soon changing into stable albeit loamy earth. "Forgiveness if I pry, sir... but words you have spoken of have piqued my curiousity.."

Zia has posed:
Normally, the gargress might not have shown her true form to a stranger, but Morgan is clearly not human and certainly couldn't mean her much of a threat here. She isn't trusting by nature, but more and more, Zia is starting to realize that she is not the most unusual thing out there within the myriad of worlds. As her wings fold back again, the gargress just offers a nod, not about to push her offer of help onto anyone. The fact she'd offered is a rare enough thing. "If ye insist." She states again with a shrug of her shoulders.

She finishes collecting those long reeds, using a small belt knife to hack them into smaller pieces and bind them with a bit of string. Then, she's up on her feet, having to make a quick pace to keep up with the other two. Clearly, she's not the one to lead the way through this murky forest, as it is as strange to her as Manhattan had been to Reize. "Ah can manage with the winds well enough. It's jus a simple spell, nothin that takes too much concentration." Another breeze blows in, sweeping between them, casting the dark tresses of the Elf into motion and then blowing past the mane-like hair of the Werewolf.

As the girl walks, it's clear that her legs aren't built quite the same as either of the others, walking up on her toes, with long feet and bent legs that don't seem as suited for a life on the ground. She's distractable, too, ears swiveling every which way, blue eyes searching into the darkness for any sign of danger. She doesn't seem frightened, just... wary of everything.

"He knows a bit too much 'bout it, if ye ask me." Of course, no one did, but Zia the girl doesn't seem to see any reason to hold her tongue on her thoughts. "The worlds are disappearin an it's the fault o the heartless. Wha does it say when he can flick a finger and send em away like pawns? Seems te me that the two o' ye are connected." Her voice isn't accusing, just confused. None of the Valan's tomes said anything about creatures such as this, although they had hinted at other worlds. The question that comes back around her gets a blink. "Do ye nae have stories in yer world? The ones ye tell te children to warn them o the evils o' the world? They're plenty where ah come from, but none o 'em proved more than jus fiction until recently. Now, all the monsters are real, and their masters right along with em."

The gargress tugs at her cloak, not looking entirely comfortable with her own words and the truth they hold. While Skoll had never done anything to hurt her, he could easily turn on her, just as Valan had. She owed him everything she knows of magic, and safety from the foul priest who had kept her before that, but he also tried to destroy her soul in exchange for the power of the magic in her veins. She would not be fooled twice.

Skoll Ulfang has posed:
Skoll had seen Zia's visage once before, but that doesn't mean he doesn't take that moment of time to glance her way - covertly of course - to take in the white hair and wings of the strange legged creature. Elves he'd seen before, but Gargoyles were new even to him; although he certainly seems to take it in better stride than Morgan, judging by her amusing little expressions. "She's quite amazing, isn't she?" He comments idly, his voice a little low as if he didn't entirely want to be heard saying such a thing. His head turns back to the horizon ahead - with Morgan standing ahead of him.

It's not long after that he comes to walk at pace with the both of them, glancing back at Zia's little play with the reet and knife, before looking ahead again. There's something about looking at her when she speaks to him of the heartless. "Darkness connects all and the Heartless." Skoll says, "But I am not yet a Shadow Lord - those are the ones who most actively use them as their pawns." Though the sad fate is, Skoll has the natural inclination to heed these very beings because of the brainwashing he has received.

The creature then lets out a sigh, "It's not like we don't have those kind of stories. Darkness that overcome worlds, but we do not fear the dark. We're werewolves - we howl at the moon which only comes out during the night. Many of us are even nocturnal." He continues to explain, "There's both a respect and fear of the dark... still... I once was in your shoes. Stories of evils in the world, only to have them come to life when I started traveling the worlds."

He glances at Morgan again, the fair elf. "But yes, there were many of us. But now, they've all been eradicated. I'm the only one - I think - of my kind... left. I haven't met any others to disprove me of this fact."

Morgan Albaste has posed:
Were Morgan to know of Zia's aloof nature around strangers, and how she -- at this very moment -- had chosen to reveal that bit of herself... of course, the Elf would be honored. "Thank you once more, good lady Zia. Now that I am aware of having missed out on a once-in-a-lifetime flight... I am regretful. Perhaps another time." Morgan adds, and there in her eyes is a little glimmer of amusement. Because heck.. who /ever/ gets the chance to be carried by a gargoyle/gargress?! Mind you, Zia seems pretty small... would she be able to carry Morgan without some measure of discomfort? Or is she, perhaps.. stronger than she looks?

Judging by those arms and the very distinct legs, and the way Zia moves.. she is a being that is meant for the skies. Those wings were considerably huge and for the moment, morgan feels badly to have the gargress be stuck on the ground. Morgan is also aware of the gargress cutting and bundling the reeds,and she notes that she really should ask about this as well. It is not often that the Elf meets such different sorts.. so who can blame her for being inquisitive? That, and she doesn't get out much. c.c

She asks next of the gargress as she awaits Skoll's answers. "Are you a medicine woman, miss? I couldn't help but notice your collecting of the reeds..." She trails off, and is left to her own thoughts for a moment regarding worlds and how so many have fallen. Again, her own amidst the fray..... but she /does/ remember many details about Elfheim. Many, many details.... memories... good, and bad. People, situations... and then, suddenly, nothing. There is a lapse somewhere in Morgan's long memory, and she just doesn't feel brave enough just yet top explore it. So.. better to investigate other people!

"Connected..?" Morgan asks softly. Skoll then calls her on her astonishment at Zia's appearance, and she turns to look upon him. Her mouth opens to reply, though judging by Skoll's subdued tone she sees fit just to nod quickly in agreement. She goes on with quietly lending an ear to Skoll and Zia's exchanges, listening attentively but unable to say much just yet. Not when her own mind is a literal jumble of thoughts.. along with that deep unease regarding the Large Body that Skoll just 'sent' off. The term Shadow Lord elicites a quick shudder, the Elf's fair flesh erupting in goosebumps. Pawns... pawns...

Feeling Skoll's glance upon her, Morgan looks at him briefly but continues to watch the terrain, her footsteps nigh-soundless. There is a gradual incline at this point, the earth becoming dry.. and as the trio press on, the air grows less funky. "I am sorry about your people, Skoll. I can only hope that you are proven wrong someday, for it is not a good feeling to be alone.. not here." She says softly, "Not in this world.. I, too, haven't encountered other Elves.. but I figure that we are more common a race..."

Zia has posed:
Even as she walks, the gargress only seems to be half paying attention to the others. There are the sounds around her, and those reeds which she is still fiddling with. Luckily, she's pre-occupied enough not to hear the exchange regarding her appearance. It's that name that draws her attention. Normally, she might have held some sort of resentment for being referred to by that human-given name, but it's hard to feel that way when being spoken to in the Elf's graceful tones. She does look up, ears lifting slightly, gaze drawn away from the little bundle she's collected. "Maybe some other time."

The gargress' eyes end up settling on Skoll as he talks about how that darkness connects everything. "Ye want te speak about creatures o' the night." The girl laughs, shaking her head with amusement, "Ah'm a Gargoyle, ye don't get much more nocturnal than tha." Of course, neither of these two would know about her kind's tendency to turn to stone during the day, or how unusual it is that this girl is walking beside them when it's clearly afternoon. The crystal which keeps her from going into that cyclical stone sleep is well hidden beneath her cloak.

"Night and dark arenae the same thing, though. Ah've lived long enough te know tha." While she probably seems about the same age as Skoll, she is quite a few years his senior - ahh the glories of a long-lived life. Certainly, the Elf probably has both of them beat, though. "Ye talk about it like it's somethin ye worship. It isnae something ye should glorify, or take lightly." The girl seems to speak from her own experience, narrowing her eyes slightly when he mentions 'Shadow Lords'. Another name to go along with Heartless when it comes to understanding what is going on.

Morgan's question about her strange collection of swamp plants has the gargress's expression shifting though. It's like the shadow of worry over Skoll fades into a sort of wry grin. "Nae. Ah never had much luck wi' the healin arts. But these..." She taps the bundle of reeds. "They're quite useful. Maybe ah'll show ye someday." With a laugh, she continues to walk along with them being careful not to catch her overlarge feet on stones as they pass.

The somber conversation between the other two, regarding how rare it was to find another of their kind does put a damper on her moment, though. Zia's ears tip back slightly, "In m' world, Gargoyles are known as the first race. Before humans or Oberon's Children, we owened the cliffs and the mountains. Ye woudln't know fer the number of us left. The humans hunted us nearly te extinction, and now only a few remain."

Skoll Ulfang has posed:
"It's okay, I've gotten used to it." Skoll comments, though one might wonder if he's saying that just to show some kind of strength - or at least a lack of weakness. "But you are right, Elves are more common. As for Gargoyles... they're not. Or at least, I've never seen one." He then moves straight into the subject of darkness, "And I know those two arne't alike, but they're... close enough?" The creature shrugs his shoulders. "Still, I don't glorify it, nor do I take it lightly. I just..." He just uses it. "I like the night."

"Never mind." Again, he throws a subject out of the window and instead concentrates on the walk ahead as they come to the more stable plateau of solid ground. "Still, I didn't know your species were creatures of the night. I mean, you're walking around right now. Last times I met was in Manhattan and Traverse Town; both places of the night. But surely..." He cuts himself off. "I guess you can't always be sure of the time of day depending on the world."

Skoll then reaches a hand out towards Morgan, seeing as he noticed that change after his mention of the Shadow Lords. What was with that reaction anyhow? He just wants to stabalize her for a moment, getting a little closer to her for just a moment, before his offer ends or he just lets go.

The wolfish youth continues to wander on with Morgan and Zia for a little longer, growing quiet, thinking about things for a moment before he dares to ask; "Oberon's children?" Seems he doesn't want to touch the sensitive subject of people hunting others to extinction. He knew how foul Humans could be, but there were plenty of other races who would do away with those unlike themselves.

Morgan Albaste has posed:
Such a wary creature, Morgan notes of Zia; ears always pivoting, eyes flitting this way and that. The Elf does not fault the gargress for such a nature because to act otherwise in this world is to be foolish. And speaking of foolish.. she knows the names of her current companions, yet failed to offer her own! Instead, she just went on being sick and nervous! How rude! Morgan presses on a few steps, her fair face reddening as she chides herself. Once Zia speaks up again, the Elf peers over a lithe shoulder to watch her.

"A Gargoyle.." Morgan echoes, one brow arching. The only sound she goes on to make for the following few minutes is that of her footfalls upon some dead grass; of her cloak whispering along the rough pathway. She faces ahead once more, tresses hanging loose behind her body and trembling with each step. Her expression darkens at the notion of what had befallen Zia's race in her home world. "That is.. too bad. Very bad," She remarks of the humans' actions toward the Gargoyles, and the damage they had done.

"We Elves were predominantly creatures of light, from where I hail. T'would have been my path, but I was taught otherwise." Morgan admits, validating a tie to darkness. "Sometimes I regret knowing what I know now.... I feel as if I would have been saved a world of trouble, had I taken up the holy arts." The Elf admits, ".. what I have been taught has cost me a chunk of time that I hardly remember. There is a black space that I do not recall... I was home, and then afterward... in a kingdom afar, sick and wasted. I know naught, what happened." Morgan concludes... all of this revealed the moment Skoll comes to her side and touches her.

That thoughtful expression opened the floodgates to that admission, and Morgan immediately looks rueful. "Forgive me... to have spewed out such thoughts in the company of those I've only just met. All this talk of darkness and lost worlds.. it made my mind wander." Morgan says softly and there, manages an earnest and apologetic smile. "My name.. ti's Morgan. Morgan Alsbaste, lord and lady. My home.." She indicates with a finger, pointing toward a bend in the path. Trees are still sparse, but the ground does not look as sickly... the sun, not quite so 'watered down'.

"My home is just up ahead, another 20 minute walk or so.."

Zia has posed:
"No one gets used to it." Zia whispers under her breath, those expressive ears tipping back slightly, nearly vanishing into her white hair. Maybe the words are meant for Skoll, maybe not, but the girl continues along as if she hadn't said it at all. "Ah wouldnae know. Ah havenae met any of m' own kind, here or back home. Ah jus see them sometimes." It's a strange thing, for her to see others of her kind, and yet not reach out to them. It seems likely that these two others would find great joy in knowing they were not alone.

She makes no comment on how 'bad' it is that humans have hunted her kind. "Now'a days, they mostly dun know tha we exist. Keeps us safe." She has to split her attention between the both of them, blue eyes scanning to Skoll. Once they get out of the shade of the mire, the gargress raises her hood again, her eyes obviously sensitive to the light. "Ah'm a bit of a unique case, let's leave it at that. Ye willnae see m' kind during the day, though, for the most part." That seems to be the closing of that particular subject.

Even as Morgan speaks abou ther time learning darker arts, it seems to draw a pang of something across the gargoyle's face. Her story, while different, has that feel of being far too close to her own reality. "Ye dinnae look sick and wasted now." It's a statement that could be taken a number of ways, but is probably meant as some sort of compliment. She doesn't know just what to say about the Elf's dabbling into the dark arts, nor to Skoll's for that matter. Now doesn't seem like the time to tell them that she's been touched by that darkness, herself, though.

"Ah suppose if they existed in other worlds, ye might call them the Fair-folk. Creatures o' immense magic, who sometimes resemble our fair Elf over there. Right nasty pieces of work, too. They usually dinnae care much 'bout humans or Gargoyles other than as entertainment. Jus hope they stay fairytales and ye never encounter one." Zia goes on to explain to Skoll, but as they come out onto the even plane, her eyes catch the city in the distance. The sight of any human city seems to give the girl pause. "M.. maybe it would be best if we part ways when we get there. I dinnae trust humans."

Skoll Ulfang has posed:
There's plenty of reason for Zia to be wary, especially with her distrust of humans. Luckily, neither he or Morgan are actually human. That probably makes for a far more comfortable interaction with this strange group here. What may not help, is the admittal of not just Skoll, but Morgan as well now - in that they are bound to darkness in some way or another. "I hope such a thing will not befall you within these worlds you travel in now..." Still, he knows that speciesism still exists outside of Manhattan.

"You don't remember what has been taught - or the events that lead up to it?" He requests to know - continueing to listen to Morgans rather odd story. A afar kingdom - sick and wasted? Drowned by the heartless perhaps? But then why would she come to only now? Things are not adding up, and Skoll realizes this quite well. "Still, it is nice to meet you, Lady Alsbaste." He offers a hand to shake, before turning his body just slightly towards Zia again.

"Sounds like dangerous stuff. I'll try to keep my distance. Still - I'm not one to usually walk away from a fight." He's a proud and noble warrior after all! Even if his Lords force him to do things that are less than... well - just that; noble. "It's alright if you wish to leave. I will probably be leaving before we hit the city as well - after all, I am on somewhat of a schedule. I just wish to see Lady Alsbaste safely home."

Morgan Albaste has posed:
"Thank you, my lady." Morgan responds to Zia in earnest, inwardly thankful that she does not look as bad as she sometimes feels. Especially when Heartless are afoot. To know that she does not look 'sick and wasted' to this perceptive gargess is a comfort, though unbeknownst to Morgan, Skoll is looking 'deeper', in a way. Not though any weird voodoo, but just.. by experience. By way of his ties to the darkness and what he perhaps recognizes in the lady Elf.

As Zia goes on to describe the 'children of Oberon' to Skoll, the Elf nonetheless lends an ear. Every bit of information helps in this odd world, and it could be beneficial to Morgan to know that an 'Elf at a glance' may be more dangerous than expected. Though these beings are a new concept to Morgan, she already feels wary of them.

Skoll is asking of her a question, and her pale gaze turns toward the punkish-looking young man with the lupine features. "Nothing at all.. I remember when we were attacked by the Heartless, I remember everyone... falling.. but.." She pauses, and looks straight ahead. "Beyond that.. I recall very little. I--is that strange..?" She asks softly, under her breath... as if to herself. She shakes her head once, as if clearing her mind of these thoughts. She looks at Skoll's hand briefly, and reaches out with her own to shake it slowly. "It is a pleasure, Skoll.... and Zia." She glances at the gargress, too. "I wish we could have met under.. cleaner circumstances. Not many circumstances are mage in a bog.." The Elf muses.

The trio climb a mild hill and there, atop it, the quaint kingdom of Cornelia can be seen. Morgan stops altogether as if, by magic, a vista of sparse green fields unfold before them in lieu of swamplands. The air is still, uh.. 'tangy'.. but no longer pungent. Folding her hands at her waist and still looking a /bit/ wan and pale, Morgan looks to her companions again. "I wish not to impose further, especially if a town full of people may be.. unsettling... therefore, sir Skoll, lady Zia... I can press on from here. T'is safe, I promise you.."

Zia has posed:
"Yer welcome, lass." The white gargoyle replies with a shrug of her shoulders. She's a strange one at times, unused to really interacting at length with others, although she seems to manage well enough. If only these two knew that their own past isn't too far a cry from her own. Alas, the girl is still too wary of everything these days to share that twined thread. "It isnae strange. Ah dinnae understand these Heartless, but fro wha ah've seen, they're quite dangerous. Ah wouldnae put much past them.

Now that they've left the swamplands behind, there is less need for her wind magic to keep the air clean. Those perceptive enough might feel the air subtly shift back to it's usual patterns as she lets go of the strands of power that had held them before. The ease at which she manages such things is sign enough that this girl is quite an accomplished mage, even without Skoll having seen it first hand when she leveled that ruffian back in Traverse Town. Sometimes, you need to beware the small, quiet ones.

At the top of the hill, Zia lags back behind the others, her eyes uncertain. "Aye... ah'll guard yer path from up there. Then ah'll be on m' own way." With the height of the hill, it's easy enough to feel the updrafts around her, especially those coming off of the expanse of green fields beyond. Normally, she might have a bit of trouble gliding from here, but the girl's natural skills with the winds help with that. "T'was nice te meet ye, Morgan Alsbaste, and and a pleasure bein yer trouble magnet as always, Skoll Ulfang." It's strange that she adresses people by their full names, but it's likely that this gargress isn't all that familiar with using names in general.

For the second time today, she moves the cloak back from her shoulders, extending those bat-like white wings. With a running start, which pulls the hood back as she goes, Zia takes a running leap into the air, gliding down along the hill until the wind catches her wings and she's swept upwards again. A few of the Cornelian guards notice the strange sight, a couple of them point upwards, unsure what the sight of something like that might mean. Luckily, they're too far below to really get a good look at what the bat-like creature is. Still, she'll circle around for a while, making the guards nervous - for at least as long as it takes for Morgan to get home safely.

Skoll Ulfang has posed:
Skoll shakes his head. "Not very strange. At least, not what you just described, m'lady." The werewolf continues to take a step aside after having shaken Morgan's hand with a strong and confident grip."The pleasure was all mine." A hand moves to his chest. "After all, it is a gentleman's job to protect Ladies in need of help." He pauses for a moment, then glances Zia's way for some reason, as if he was trying to figure out if she was indeed casting anything. After all, he felt his hairs being moved.

With a quick movement of his head, Skoll looks back to Morgan. "Very well, I will let you take your leave. After all, I also have an appointment to attend to." He takes out that pocketwatch and taps the hands on it, before putting it back into his pocket. A smile then goes out to Zia. "Glad to have been around while you were attracting trouble - always a good time." He admits without a shred of sarcasm or anything else. The fact that she spoke to him using his full name doesn't really register to him.

Instead, he waits for the girl to take to the air, noting how she uses the wind to push her up, before he suddenly opens a portal of darkness out of the blue, and waves a hand to Morgan. A finger then moves to his lips. "Sshh, secret." And off he is, through the portal, with it closing right behind him. She may have felt jut what kind of dark and strong forces lie beyond that portal. It might even remind her a bit of her younger days...

Morgan Albaste has posed:
"Thank you, good lady," Morgan says gently over a shoulder, turning halfway 'round so that she may face Zia once more. She needs no further proof that the gargress is indeed an accomplished mage, for her lungs are not quite as polluted as they would have been had Zia not been there to harnass the winds! Morgan's eyes are soft and kind upon her somewhat pale face, and her lips curl up into the barest smile. She looks as if she could sleep for a day and a half.

"T'was good to meet you, Zia of Sco'land. May your journey be safe... no doubt it shall be so, once you take to the air---" And punctuating this, the wind mage spreads her leathery wings and takes to the heavens. Morgan's dark-haired head cants back so that she may mark and follow Zia's ascent; soon levelling into an easy glide. Indeeed, the Cornelian guards shall wonder! But the Elf simply raises a hand to the skies and wordlessly, bids her new acquaintance goodbye. "~Be safe..~" She whispers in her mother tongue.

And then, of course, there is Skoll.. no doubt watching Zia's takeoff as well. Morgan's palm still tingles a bit from his strong, sure grip.. and her pale gaze affixes to the punkish gentleman (how's that for an oxymoron term) next. She bows her head, "I shall be fine." She reassures again, "Thank you, sir Skoll.. for everything. I regret that our meeting had to be in a mire." The Elf whispers, gaze following Skoll as he moves to---

... a portal..? He wills forth a dark portal? Morgan stares outright, even after the werewolf steps through. Another thought arises, then; her heart begins to throb, her brow knits. Where had she seen such magic before....?

Why, upon seeing and recalling such a thing.. does a certain voice come to mind? Velvetty, deep, masculine laughter...

Startled and tired, Morgan does as she promises and practically sprints the rest of the way home, black hair bannering behind her body.