Sword & Shield

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Maive steps through the wall at the end of the unit's line, the gate closing automatically behind her. The Kurian roars with fury as it throws itself up against the wall with its weight, making the thick, stone wall almost seem to rattle, seemingly as revenge for its prey's escape. The gate clangs from the disturbance and she gestures to the top of the stairs that lead to the wall's upper ledge.

"Get up there and get on top of it!" She screams, "If you have anything ranged, I suggest you use it. Now!"

A few loose bricks tumble down on the Kurian is it rights itself. If it keeps this up, their wall won't last much longer. They need to finish the fortification work on the walls, or else there won't be any walls to fortify. Thankfully, the other two nearby Kurians are interested in other things, rather than their weakened wall.

"Logrin, I need lots of rain! Those fuckers are on a hill, make it beneficial!" Maive orders as she follows her unit up the wall, "Ayade, get up front, use your shell to protect the wall!"

Logrin snaps his fingers, calling for her attention, She looks his way impatiently, "Captain, you sure? It'll set the dirt work back behind by a few days, at least."

The two Kurians in the distance realize the weaken state of the wall, thanks to their close friend. She looks at their advance with hesitation. "Do it. We'll buy you the time you need...there are no allies out there, but they may have reinforcements by the time you're ready."

"Thormod, use your flame strike on this one!" She orders as the Kurian rears back to hit the wall again. "Everyone else, ranged weapons at the ready and fire at will!"

The dinner is brought out to the tables as many of the regular men rush to be seated. More of them showed up than usual, especially men that were hardly ever here during this hour. All, it would seem, except Beret. Jiles sent him out on duty again, as Beret is the only man competent enough to miss this "meeting" that was not a meeting.

As they are all seated, Rathlea noticed that the women were all positioned next to Jiles. She raises an eyebrow, but refrains from commenting. At first, she is ready to assume this was some sort of gender bias, but when she saw how hungrily several of the men were looking at them....and how plainly Jiles didn't look at them...it made sense. Let us add the intimidation factor that the men had with Jiles and it explained everything.

Rathlea takes her seat as the trays are brought out and distributed. After a while, several of the men try to leave early. At this point, Jiles clears his throats, looks up at them, and they take their seat again without a word.

"I'd like everyone to meet our new Captains, Altiere and Rathlea," Jiles said after he wipes his mouth from finishing his meal, "And Commander Luthar. Taldor Caldwell. Though I am in charge for the time being until they are well adjusted, you will do as they ask or you will pay the consequences, as per usual.

Additionally, Beret, as I'm sure you've all met with the fire cape of hell that escorted you all in, is also a Captain, but he's pretty new to this place, still. If you have any questions for him, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to oblige."

He remains seated, leaning back in his chair as he props one ankle over his other knee and his back leans up against one of the support beams in a relaxed, informal manner. Rathlea is adjusting, still. She is not used to hearing such a strict, commanding tone from someone in such a laid back posture. Most giving commands are more by the book and more...stiff. And he sure as hell sounded stiff...but, there he was, laid back as though he wasn't introducing a superior officer at all.

"As I'm sure many of you have asked by now," Jiles continues, his eyes falling on Rathlea, "We do not know the source of the bell. I do apologize for any of my men or I telling you that we heard nothing. That is standard procedure until the matter can be directly discussed, which I'm doing now, in a full meeting.

As there has been no problems caused by this bell--none of any kind, and it rings so rarely, we have made no further attempts and discovering its source. Thus, it has remained a harmless mystery while we've worked.

Now. I do believe your schedules will be posted up in the morning on the post board up there on the wall--we'll all have some heavy work to do tomorrow, both in sentry and renovation work, as well as some hunter-gatherer work, so expect to be woken at dawn."

At this last part, Jiles stands, moving to the board near the entrance of the keep, poking it with his finger as he looks specifically at his men. "I've added some rules to this here place. I expect they'll be followed. I've even written them all down for those of us that have a poor memory."

His eyes fall on Valen at this last, but he says nothing. He looks the entire table up and down, meeting eyes with all but the Commander and Taldor. For those two, he simply passes them by. "If I catch you breaking my new rules, gentlemen, I will fuck you up. That will only be the beginning of what I shall do to you if break. My. Rules."

With that, he grunts, waving his hand with dismissal as the new men all get up and rush to the board quickly in a thick pool of men and sweat before leaving the room altogether to get to the men's quarters to get to bed, with the exception of a few that leave out for watch duty. All that remain in the hall are the Commander, Taldor, and Unit 271.

[ATTN: Unit 271, Taldor, Commander]

Victoire was not listening. At all. Too busy with the heaps of dinner food in front of her, she was eating through that Jiles' entire speech. As he mentioned the bell, Victoire was scarfing down a haunch of venison, and his new rules were completely blocked out by the sound of munching on mashed potatoes. It was clear that she should have listened to the creep outside about lunch, but it was not of consequence. Even after the first few people had gotten up to look at this new ruleboard, Victoire was still polishing the last of her steak and reaching for one of the smaller pieces (which she could not have ensured would have been eaten had she been eaten. Waste not what not!).

After inhaling quite a bit of meat and high amounts of water, she approached this new ruleboard with all of the annoying rules about the cold. "Well, there goes that." She shrugged after seeing that Jiles gave a damn about their safety after all. Now satisfied, she sat back down at her plate, still looking for more. "Captain, do you still think that there's something going on?" Because Victoire had been so occupied with her food, she had not heard anything about how the bell was doing.

[Attn: Adrian, Open]

Alwilda cocked an eyebrow when she saw all the women sitting next to Jiles. The fuck? she thought. Is he trying for a fucking harem? But slowly, as she looked around and saw all the men leering in the direction of the women. So, that's how it was?

She rolled her eyes at the women. Fucking wallflowers. This was why everyone thought women were such weak creatures. One of them had the audacity to look at her with that lustful gaze. She met his eyes and smiled. Immediately, he paled and all his self-confidence abandoned him and he cast his eyes down for the rest of the meal. Spineless bitch...

Jiles began to speak and Alwilda's eyebrows rose at his words. She nudged Adrian. "Who the fuck doesn't investigate mystery sounds that can be heard through the entire fucking complex?!" she hissed in a low voice. "Why is it there are spineless soldiers everywhere we go? What? Did they remove them to help their g*ddamn boners?!"

He pretended not to hear her as she whispered to him, giving her a stern look again. Not that he disagreed. But now wasn't the time.

Only after the rest of them left did he stand. Sure were quick to leave. Jiles had them in the palm of his hand. "Well then," he said, slapping his hands together. "There's that." It was clear, though, that he wasn't satisfied with the answer Jiles gave them.

Alwilda sighed. She cared little for the politics of things, but it was clear Jiles was running this show. She had to resist the urge to crack her knuckles; the best way to claim a wolf pack was to take down its leader, after all. Maybe later.

"What's the plan, stuff shirt?" she said casually.

He looked around at unit 271 and gave a polite smile. Not here. He didn't know any of them worth shit. For all he knew, the captains could be rats as well. "We repair the fort," he said stiffly. "What else?" We talk later.

"Funny," she said with a smile, "I was just thinking the same thing."

No doubt he'd want to talk later. But in the meantime, there was work to do if she was going to have her weight room and her peace of mind. Time to show these fucks what a real woman looked like.

She stormed over to Jiles. "Jiles, sir," she said, "requesting information regarding repairs to the hold."

"I have a full report right here," Jiles says, handing her some papers with a small smile, "Getting started already?"

A smirk crept across her face. "Permission to speak freely, sir?" she inquired.

"So long as you respect me, Taldor," Jiles replies, "You can speek freely at any time. You'll never have to ask. After all, you'll be in charge of this place."

Her smirk deepened. "Then with respect, sir," she began, "you'll have to earn any more than what is peremptory for your station.

"As to your question," she went on, "I just walked into a g*ddamn icicle that's falling apart at the seams--with no weight room, I might add. You bet your ass I'm about to get started and show these men why you don't fuck with a woman."

The last part she said a little louder to the men that were leaving. She smiled at their tense shoulder that told her they'd heard her.

"By your leave," she said as she turned to go.

"Wait." Jiles says, "One more thing."

She stopped mid-stride and looked back in his direction. "Sir?" she inquired.

"The weight room can wait. It's not a priority." Jiles states, "Perhaps you'd like to put the officer's quarters, or perhaps even a smithy--as you've been discussing that with Captain Altiere--as a priority instead? Weight roooms are a luxury. There's enough physical labor at this station, especially with renovation work, that physical fittness is easy to attain without one. I do apologize if this puts a damper on your plans. However, I have to answer to the higher ups and I think they could care less about our personal desires for what is added to this keep."

She grinned. "Duly noted," she said. "And for the record I said you didn't have a weight room, I didn't say my priority was to make one. And with all due respect, I'm sure your physical labor may be grueling for your men, but looking at them...they aren't anywhere near my weight class." She turned and strode off.

Jiles laughs at her statement. "The men have weights, but they share among themselves. If you need to borrow some, I'm sure they'd be more than happy to oblige."

It was her turn to laugh. "I'll keep that in mind if I need to lift light," she said without looking back and exiting the room.

[Attn: Dinner]

"Leave off, Galeu." Logrin says as one of the men sits down across from him in a confrontational manner.

Leaning on an elbow the man puts a finger to his jaw as he rests his chin on his hand. "Got a cob up your ass, no wonder that redhead ditched you." Galeu grins while slowly caressing a old scar along his jaw. Something that looks like an old furrow, healed poorly.

Pausing the knife with it's piece of venison just under his mouth while leaning over his dinner, Valen's eyes glower up at this man. "Leave. Off. Galeu." He eats the piece off the knife and starts cutting another.

"I thought we were friends Valen." Galeu says faking affront, "I'd hate to think we've gone and lost that." The man drinks some of his water, noticing Logrin shoot a glance towards Jiles as he talks to the officers. "Pity she was with a loser like you. She'll come around...I'm sure." Galeu says thinking Valen is looking at Z'tan.

"Galeu. The fumes from your shit hole of a mouth are ruining my dinner. Leave off."

The man leans back and stretches his arms behinds his head. "You've got plenty of old friends that miss you. Friends, who'd like nothing more than to spend some time with you again." He gets up and takes his mug with him. "Best think on it Logrin."

Valen took another glance up at Jiles, noticing the man looking intensely at him and most likely wondering if he'd have to watch him even more. As if Valen had gotten worse over the years Great. Nodding his head politely towards Jiles he breaks the tiny loaf of unleavened bread and soaks up the grease on his plate along with the remains of some gravy.

"-show these men why you don't fuck with a woman." The Taldor's voice said a little to loudly... As the men quieted and looked in her direction, Valen knew it had been intentionally.

Geez, someone thinks too highly of herself.

Some of the men glared at her, and she paid no notice to their wounded pride. Perhaps she should have, 'hunting' accidents where easy enough out here. Jiles was talking to her as she all to hastily attempted to dismiss him.

"- I'm sure your physical labor may be grueling for your men, but looking at them...they aren't anywhere near my weight class."

Valen looked at the Taldor like she was an idiot, because she was. Talk all she wanted, but even Thormod or Kresimir would be in her weight class, Z'tan would be above it if he had his guess. Dinner calls and I obey. he thinks dismissively as he resumes his meal.

"Way she talks, think the bitch tried to trade her cunt for a dick 'n balls, only to find they didn't 'ave a set small enough." he just barely hears from down the table, unable to place the source. The laughter of the men was lively, that much was sure. Some of them getting up and heading out not worried about the bravado of their new Taldor.

Sighing Valen pulls one of the nearly picked clean platters across the table. Galeu, the Taldor, and the men aside, he's hungry. Even if the food wasn't amazing or anything, there had been plenty of it. Mostly just their unit was left, plus the Commander. Without all the noise, Valen could hear himself much easier. Standing up and popping a gravy soaked piece of meat into his mouth Valen heads over to the new rules and looks for his name.

"Rule Number Five: Valen cannot use his storm magic. Or use Zaethura for cleaning duty." That won't be a problem, that's for sure. his finger scrolling down two the new rules near the end. "Those won't be issues either. Nothing new I have to worry about." Heading back to table he finishes off his water, anything else it might be, was completely wishful thinking. Taking another scrap off the plate he takes it and heads up towards the barracks, eating as he goes. "Kres, come on. Best to turn in, long day ahead of us."

{Attn: All}

Micia has her proposal drawn up and goes to the ‘mess hall’ with the rest of the unit. She is surprised to see so many people here, along with the fact that all the women are sitting together with Jiles. She looks over at Maive and shrugs. The meal at least is decent, she had much worse before.

It was then Jiles clears his throat and starts the ‘meeting’. She is surprised that he introduced her and Maive before the Commander and Taldor. She can sense Maive’s minor discomfort with Jiles, but Micia loves how laid back he is. It will make it easier for her to approach him about the smithy.

Micia groans internally about being awakened at dawn, but than that everything seems pretty straightforward. She watches walk over to a board and tells them about new rules. He makes a point to meet with everyone’s eyes. Micia has to admit even she was a bit intimidated. The board is swarmed by the rest of the crew, the only ones that remain are her unit.

Micia looks over at everyone. “I don’t know about you, but I think I will wait for the board to clear up before checking it out. I recommend you take a look before heading out guys.” She looks down at the sheets of paper then over at Jiles and Taldor Caldwell. She hears them talking about the smithy and smiles. What better time to approach him with her proposals. She waits until Taldor Caldwell leaves before approaching him.

“Sir, I couldn’t help but overhear you talking to Taldor Caldwell. I put together two proposals for a smithy, one is the ideal one for this environment the other the bare basics.” She hands Jiles both proposals. “You will find they are very detailed with the items that are needed. I am hoping we can do a compromise. I may be able to contact my dad and get some of the tools he no longer uses. Let me know if you have any questions.”

[ATTN: 271]

Luthar had to suppress a smirk as he heard Al’s voice float back into their room. He caught one of the Ensen’s looking over towards her skeptically, and this time he was unable to suppress his smirk. As much as it sounded like empty bragging, she probably wasn’t kidding. For all the ten years he’d known her, she had never stopped lifting.

Well, maybe that was an exaggeration. But if she was off duty, if she wasn’t in the bar or the training grounds, she was lifting. It was an obsession. Hell, the woman could probably bench him if she tried, easy. He had to wonder what it was that drove her, to push herself far past what most other woman considered sufficient…

[ATTN: 271, Luthar]

A hand reached for a piece of meat with a fork... only to find no meat. Disappointed, Victoire huffed and got up, now finished with dinner, noticing that no one else was really done yet with their food, save for those who were already gone. Noticing the Commander was open for conversation, she hmmed, maybe was the time to schmooze a little bit... or maybe she wanted to give him a piece of her mind for that stupid smile. Who did he think she was, a newborn? She could hold her own in an intellectual conversation about tactics! Her metal greaves clattered on the floor, as she approached the man.

"She's really the Taldor, isn't she?" Victoire rolled her eyes. She had to admit, the men here were mollycoddled into submission rather easily. It's like they've never seen strong men before. "I don't believe we've ever met, I'm Ensen Z'Tan, though I'm probably on file." She looked at him with a fire, still a little steamed at his little 'you're cute, let the grownups talk' smile, though her polite demeanour never leaved her.

[ATTN: 271]

Luthar blinked as he was suddenly torn from his thoughts as one of the Ensens approached him. He looked down at her, composing himself quickly as she spoke, and plastered on a smile. Yes, yes, now's the time we all suck up to the Commander. They were all so predictable. "A pleasure," he said, looking at her and repeating the name to himself a few times.

Victoire hated that smile. She could tell that she was NOT being taken seriously right now, but suppressed her anger and forced another genuine-looking smile. "Well, it's nice that we're stuck in ice-cube central, but I hope that there's more to do here than work, eat, and sleep... The men here are absolutely disgusting, save for the ones we brought here..." That didn't particularly exclude Jiles, but fortunately, he wasn't here right now, and wasn't really listening to their conversation.

Luthar suppressed his irritation. Surely there had to be something else she could be doing besides bothering him. He had work to do - normal duties, of course, but there was also coming up with a plan to confirm his suspicions and learn more about that bell...

"I wouldn't keep my hopes up," he said, giving a quick smile before he nodded to her. "If you'll excuse me. I have business to attend to. The schedule will be posted within a half an hour," he said, directing the comment at the unit at large.

A switch turned in her head. Ugh... that was just great. Just what she needed, some more condescending bullshit. Victoire was close to just blowing up... and then that smile again. "You know, we're all stuck in here together, mind showing us a little trust?" Oh, dear... She was nooot happy. She maintained a cool tone, but who knows how long that would last?

Luthar blinked at her, surprised. Really? "Ensen Z'Tan," he said, his voice growing cold. So not a suck up. At least there was that. "Neither trust nor respect are given, they are earned, and as of yet, you have done nothing to earn it from me." He gave her another polite smile. "If you'll excuse me," he said, starting to turn to leave.

Victoire gave him a now FRIGID look. One that did not rival the Taldor's just yet, but hopefully one to remember. "At least give me the respect to not treat me like a child. I prefer smiles when they are genuine, not fabricated." She was beginning to show some signs of fight as she did with all people who thought of her as simply beneath them.

He didn't turn around. "I will take that into consideration," he said calmly, the smile dropping off his face. Yes, sure. He'd give her respect once she proved to him she deserved it, and not a moment before.

She slammed a fist into the wall before storming off in a huff. That? Did NOT go well.

"You're thinking, Captain." Jiles says with a wide smile--the first anyone has seen him with since they arrived. "I like that. I'll look it over, but I can already tell that this is something I approve of. Feel free to send a message to your father--we could use all the help we can get."

He looks over, past her shoulder, his grin falling. Then, he looks back at Micia, a sad expression in his eyes. "My advise to you: Keep an eye on this crew of yours. Morale is low--extremely low. We have to take care of them."

The clears his throat, pulling out a small, wooden box. He gives it to her in a sneaky way, so that most in the room shouldn't see it, if any manage to see it at all. He passes it to her with care, all the same. "Don't open it until you need to. Excuse me, my lady, I do have something to which I must attend. I apologize."



Rathlea stands, respectfully saying farewell to the unit before she turns to go. She exits the room, not even bothering to look at the new rules. Jiles stops her, his hand on her shoulder as she walks out into the snow. She looks up at him, startled. He leans forward and whispers something in her ear.

Maive is surprised, looking up at him, almost seeing her father in him for the shortest of moments. Her father was always perceptive about her--understanding her and knowing things about her deepest core, especially when she did not want him to.

She looks down at her feet, then. He is not her father, but for some reason she is hiding as she always has. She looks to her left, down past the table at Micia, whom appears to be looking at something in her hands. Maive's one reason.

She looks back at him, her eyes returning to his. She's so conflicted and weak. She always has been weak. Her father never hesitated to tell her that. Jiles smiles sadly, and finally speaks, whispering to her some more. She nods her head with acceptance, a single tear falling down her cheek.

It is then that Rathlea walks out into the snow once more as Jiles makes his way back to the board to post up some sentry work for some of his men, in hopes that this will keep them preoccupied a little further. He knows that the Taldor has some of his men working late into the night--two of which have early sentry duty, so he switches their schedules around a bit, to convenience the woman.

Rathlea makes her way to the Thessalonia border wall, walking on the top of it as her feet crunches upon the snow. She drops to her knees, the tears falling as she cries silently to herself, trying to keep her cries within. She'll have to make a choice...she just doesn't know which one is the right one. Looking up at the dark sky, seeing no moon or stars, she knows that she'll have to make that choice soon.

[ATTN: Rathlea, Open]

Victoire was NOT tired this night around. She had too much anger from all of that stupid Luthar business, he was such a condescending jerk! Why didn't she deserve the respect of him? Victoire was JUST as decorated as his precious Taldor... in the sense that the Taldor had no awards and neither did she. STILL, she was just as strong, just as smart, and JUST as BRAVE as the only person the Commander actually cared to fraternize with. She was just... angry. Victoire wanted to actualize her rage in something, but she didn't know what. Nothing made sense, but then she decided that a little bit of sentry duty would clear her mind. She walked up to the fortification's wall pathways, and began to take her own patrol...

“Thank you Sir, I will get on that.” Micia replies. She likes Jiles and understands how the men respect him. Her mind drifts momentarily to the Taldor and Commander’s conversation earlier as Jiles tells her about the morale in her unit. Her eyes matching him saddened expression. She is a bit embarrassed that he, an outsider, noticed that too. “Sir I will try my best.”

He then slyly hands her a box telling her not to open until she needed it. He then excuses himself. Micia looks at the box wondering what is in it. She wants to ask him, but he is gone. She tucks the box into some the furs she is wearing. She takes a moment to look around at the room. To some it may seem she is staring off into space, but she is really thinking.

She is disheartened by the attitudes of her Commander and Taldor. It appears they only have their own intentions in mind and aren’t even thinking of the team. This is an odd way for leaders of any sort to act. She sighs knowing it will be up to her and Maive to be the real leaders of the team. It was then she felt an overwhelming sense of sadness through the bond. She clutches the back of the chair as she stumbles. Something is wrong with Maive and Micia must find her.

Micia walks quickly out of the kitchen. She asks the nearest person if they have seen Captain Rathlea (She almost did use Maive though). She walks off in the direction she was told to go, asking other guards on the way. For a few moments Micia thought the idiot guards made her go the wrong way. She was going to turn around when she finds Maive.

“Maive, what is wrong?” She pulls her bondmate into a hug not caring what anyone thought. “Talk to me Maive, please. I know how you are feeling, but not the reason why. You can tell me.”

Luthar stepped out not fifteen minutes later, approaching the board and slapping 271’s schedule up on it. He ignored what soldiers remained in the room, rubbing his palms together as he thought.

He needed some answers on the bell, at least – that was too suspicious. He could question any one of the men, but he saw how they deferred to Jiles – it didn’t matter that he was technically Jiles’ superior, he couldn’t trust a word they said.

So he’d strike at the head. Hell, he probably wouldn’t be able to trust Jiles either, but he’d like to leave an impression at least. I won’t tolerate bullshit from anyone here.

He turned, searching for Jiles and finding him at his desk going through paperwork. I understand your pain. “Ah, Commander,” he said, stopping in front of his desk. “Mind if I borrow a moment of your time?

Jiles looks up, pulling of his reading glasses and gesturing towards a seat. "Please. Paperwork sure as hell isn't how I like to finish my nights."

Luthar smirked. "You don't say," he said, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from him. He leaned forward, folding his hands on the edge of the desk. "I just wanted to ask more about that bell we heard," he said casually. "You said you never investigated it much, but I'm sure you looked into it when you first heard it?"

"Oh, yes. We have an old station at the top of this tower--past all the rotting shit--that used to have a bell up there," Jiles answeres, "It's not there anymore. Not even an old, rusting piece of shit that could even make a hint of a bell's ring. At first, it creeped the men out. Then we figured out that it would only do it when 'new' people showed up. Decided that it had to be a prankster, at first, but have yet to see one. Or meet one. ANd we've searched this place all over."

He frowned. "So no obvious cause for the ringing?"

"If there was, I'd have stopped it by now. That shit is annoying and a distraction I can't afford. It's one of the reasons people leave off bitching about this place being haunted." Jiles says, finishing up his paperwork and stacking it neatly in a corner. "Just wait until morning. You'll see just how bad it gets."

He smirked. "I can imagine," he said, starting to stand. He paused. "Strange, though, that your standard procedure is to feign ignorance," he commented. "Doesn't seem like that'd help morale among the new boys. What's your reasoning behind that?"

Jiles hesistates. "The last time I told a temp team about that damned bell...they went crazy on us. And I do mean crazy. Raved on about glowing, green ghosts and shit.

Ever since then, we said we didn't hear anything and they'd assume they were just hearing things. The bell would stop during their stay and they'd forget, write it off, and just let it go."

Jiles shifts uncomfortably, but shrugs, "I never claimed it's the best methods...but you gotta do what gets the best results, sometimes."

Curious. He nodded understandingly. "Of course," he said. "Perfectly reasonable." He thought for a moment. "Anything else odd about this place I should know?" he asked, half joking

"You'll hear get the brunt of it tonight, Commander." Jiles says bluntly, "Can't explain it. NO way in hell. However...after we get through this tough part, the rest will go smoothly."

Adrian blinked. "That's reassuring," he said. "Shall I warn the new unit to be on guard? We don't need a panic."

"Well...I've already given Rathlea word to warn the women. And I was about to head to bed and handle the men. So bascially, I already intended to." Jiles said, his eyes wandering to the door of the women's quarters, "This is going to be unpleasant."

He followed his gaze to the door of the women's quarters. Why the women in particular...? "How so?" he asked.

"It's the dreams--the nightmares." Jiles answeres, "The feelings. It's like your nigtmares are just so real when you wake. As if they follow you into reality."

He was silent for a moment. But why the women's quarters...? "Does this happen to everyone?" he asked softly. "Or just the new boys?"

"I--" Jiles cuts off. "I don't know what happen to the women. We've only had one woman in the past that stayed a full night here...and she was screaming."

Luthar said nothing. "...I see," he finally said. He cleared his throat. "You said the old bell tower was at the top of this tower?" he finally asked. "Is it stable enough to go up there?"

"Sure," Jiles says, but don't bring anyone exceptionally big. They'll crash the whole placd down. I'd only recommend one or two people."

He nodded. "Thank you for the warning, Commander," he said, saluting for a moment. "Is the Taldor still in the basement?"

"I believe so. Havne't seen my men come back. Getting late." Jiles says, "I'll head to bed. If you need anything, I'll be in our room."

He smirked. Girl was probably working them half to death. "Sounds good," he said, and without another word he turned to leave. Well that didn't go how I expected.

He started down towards the basement, hearing the Taldor shouting orders at the men she’d recruited. Poor bastards… “Taldor Caldwell!” he called down as he started down the stairs.

Alwilda rolled her eyes as she heard the Commander's dulcet tones. "Keep at it, boys," she said, "I want this shit organized until we can get these shelves repaired."

She walked up the stairs and addressed the captain, saluting. "You rang, sir?"

"I did," he said, looking down the stairs to the boys laboring below. "It's late. And I needed to discuss something with you anyway. Finish up here, will you?" Al wasn't exactly the most popular person - he wasn't sure Rathlea would bother to warn her about what might be coming.

Alwilda made a face. "There's actually not much we can do down there at the moment," she said. "Once we got the debris cleared out, all we found were doors and shelves in need of repair--and one rusted shut. Everything else is okay. The beams and foundations are structurally sound.

"However, that shit needs to be organized if we're going to have efficient access to it," she finished. "I planned on taking them upstairs within the hour."

"You mean organized like your room?" he said to her, smirking. Focus. "But yes. This is important. You can finish in the morning."

Her face took on a stubborn cast, thumbing in the direction of the upper floor. "That is important," she growled. "If that comes down on our heads and kills us all, I'm sure you'll think differently, then."

She had no intention of sleeping anytime soon. There was shit to be done and she wanted to do it.

Luthar's face hardened. "Taldor," he said. "Would you stop being stubborn for just a moment? I need you for something, now, before it gets late."

She growled again and punched a wall in frustration. "Fine, Commander," she said in a tight voice. "Not like we can get too much shit done, anyway. We have screws and the metal, but they need to be shaped, so we'll have to commission Altiere to make hinges for the g*ddamn doors..."

She turned and stormed back down the stairs. "Okay! Pack it in and go snuggle your fucking teddy bears! We're calling it a night!"

There was grateful sounds of relief and boxes being put down. A minute later the soldiers came trudging up the stairs. They looked dirt covered and tired. Alwilda was the same, only without the tired part.

"Alright," she growled, "let's get this over with. Then I can maybe get back to doing actual work."

Luthar almost rolled his eyes, looking down at the men as they started up. They looked at her with anger, disgust, some of them with... eagerness? Of course. They know what's coming too. Probably hoping to see her knocked down a few pegs.

He cleared his throat. "Alright, walk with me," he said. "We're headed up."

[ATTN: Micia]

As Rathlea expected, Micia came, as she always did. Rathlea moved into her arms, crying more than she has cried in a long time. She's forgotten the cold, though she had only just previously wished that Reign's spell was back in affect. Through Micia's comfort, she finds herself able to just cry over her utter despair. Despite all the emotions she hides, Micia has never called her weak. Micia has never left her.

She finally pulls away from clinging to her bondmate, her tear soaked face looking up at Micia's with watery eyes as her hand moves to cover her lips while her shoulders shake from quieter cries still escaping.

"It's my fault we're here." Rathlea says thickly with a runny nose, "It's all my fault. Don't you see? We'll be here...the entire unit...and we'll have to just be the usual trash-pawns under the same Commander and Taldor that don't give a damn about us. They don't care about our unit, like we do! They'll give us shit for the rest of our lives and there is nothing we can do about it!"

Rathlea cries some more, the panic slipping in towards her center. She looks up this time with fear in her eyes. "Micia....tonight...tonight will be bad. Real bad. I know what is to come and I've been pushing it away but I cannot. None of us will sleep well on this night. I'm so scared."

Micia holds Maive as she cries. Micia strokes her bondmate’s hair soothingly giving Maive the time she needs. Finally Maive stops crying and speaks, blaming herself for something she has no control over. Micia holds her comments until after she is done. She hands her a handkerchief as she takes the opportunity to respond. “Maive none of this is your fault. Don’t you dare blame yourself for your father’s actions. I don’t blame you and I am sure the others won’t either. Your father already has a reputation for being a jerk.

I also listened in on a conversation between the Taldor and Commander. I may know why they are acting like that. It appears they have put applications in for Special Ops. I am not sure what was said between your father and them, but one of two things will happen. One, they won’t be here very long, or two they will realize that the Commander Marshall is a fucktard and get over themselves. I for one don’t care, my responsibility are for my men and them only.”

Micia’s expression turns to one of concern as Maive’s turns fearful. “Maive, please tell me what you know. Maybe if we are prepared it won’t be that bad.” Her hand reaches inside her furs and touches the box Jiles gave her. She wonders if he gave it to her knowing something is going on. She looks at Maive, a part of her wants to tell Maive about the box, but Jiles never specified what the need is.

[Attn: Men's Dorm]
[Collaboration post with HK and Leah7]

As soon as they got close to the Men's dorm, Kresimir bolted into the room and dove into the bed. Managing somehow to get his equip magic off in mid flight before huddling under the sheets. Impressive, you lucky bastard he says smiling at the funny sight.

"You are such a wuss Kres. It's not that cold." Valen says as he walks over to the first and stokes it after adding another small log into it. "So which one of these is mine partner?"

Kresimir was a bit frustrated under his blankets. ''E-ea-s-s-s-sy for y-y-ou to s-s-s-say !'' He replied shivering underneath them. As his bond-mate ask him which bed was his, he take his hand out slightly out and point up. ''T-That one.'' Kresimir said, hiding his hand almost as quickly as it went out.

"You look silly, you huddling mound of blankets. You'll be warm enough though come morning." Valen walks over and sits down on the edge of the bed, removing his boots one at a time. "So, schedules in the morning. What do you think you got?"

''I d-d-do-n't look s-s-silly ! I t-t-told you.... I g-g-et co-o-old eas-s-sily. Why d-d-do yo-u t-think I h-hate to get w-w-w-wet ?!'' As he mentioned the schedules, Kresimir seemed curious. Although it's not like Valen could tell from the outside, Kresimir entire body was under the blankets after all. ''I... d-d-dun-no... '' He replied.

Valen shrugs as he turns one upside down and sticks it in the other. "I could always have Zaethura keep you warm? Make you all tingly." Valen grins playfully and puts his boots under his lousy pillow. Taking his guardian from his shoulder perch, he puts Zaethura on top of Kresimir's bed where he hovers looking around.

"Zae is a h-h-heater n-n-now ?! '' Kresimir replied annoyed.

A man steps in, a large burn mark on the side of his face. He pulls his pack over his shoulder and moves over to Valen. "You're on my bed."

Valen looks up, "Really?"

"That's your bed." He replies, pointing to the back at an unstable bed.

Zaethura looks over at the pair of men beside the bed in anticipation. "I see. I'm Valen, and you are?" Valen says trying to be polite.

"My name doesn't get you off my bed," He states, "So--"

"C'mon, man! It's okay, John." Another man, already in bed groans, sitting up in his bed from a bottom bunk, "That's Valen, he's cool. He's been here before."

"Think I give a shit?" John answers, "No body is getting sleep tonight, and he's part of the cause."

Kres come out of the blankets a bit and he glare at the guy. ''Dude... w-w-e reserved... g-get an-n-other one.'' He was not going to go to the unstable one. ''Be-s-sides, we were nice en-ough to come h-here to rep-place you ev-v-entually.'' He was ready to trow water at the dude if he got violent. Though he hoped he wouldn't need to.

"Nah, it's ok Kres." Valen looks at John, "John, it is John isn't it?"

"What?"

O-Okay ?! ... I s-settled e-v-erything for this o-one... and r-r-eserved it. How c-can he c-come l-i-ike t-that and c-claim it's his !?'' Kresimir looked pissed at the man and didn't get why Valen wanted to give that bed to him.

'"Kres, this is the casket. Let me handle it, ok?" Valen says trying to mollify his partner. Turning his attention to John he sighs, "As I recall we switch beds with the other shifts. We're new so most like we didn't know you had claimed it already. Fair enough?" Valen says looking up at the man and offering his hand.

Kresimir growl and say ''Y-you're not s-s-serious are you V-valen ?! ''
''T-That guy o-obviously j-j-just decided i-it w-w-as his.'' Kresimir stated looking frustrated at his partner.

"Look," John says, looking at Kresimir, "Quit your whining."

"Kresimir. Let me handle it." Valen says looking at his bond mate, Are you trying to lose your bed? You cold idiot, be quiet "John, you said we weren't getting sleep tonight. I've slept fine here before, what's up?" Valen says while pulling his boots out from under the pillow. He then stands up and looks at John, who is now standing in his way.

"John!" The man from the bed says, getting out of his bed, "Shut it!"

John looks tight lipped. He flips Kresimir off and then walks away, heading towards the bed that he had tried to put Valen in.

"I though I recognized that voice of yours." Valen says offering him his hand and pulling the guy into a hug. "How ya been?"

Kresimir groan as his partner once again tell him to let him handle it. Although he also wondered what the man meant with what he said. As another man call out to stop John, John shows his middle finger to Kres and Kresimir simply glare at him. ''Y-y-ou k-n-now th-i-s-s gu-y Valen ? '' He asked in the direction of the good guy.

"Not bad, Val," He says, smiling, "Dude, it's still a shit hole, so it's not like anyone could expect me to be too much better."

"Yeah I know, gone even more downhill than I remember." Looking back over his shoulder at his huddled partner, "This is Baker, he does most of the wood work in the keep, or used to anyway." Glancing at Baker good humorously he jokes, "He's totally been slacking off, right?"

Kresimir take out a hand off the blankets and wave. ''N-i-ice to m-e-e-t y-you.... Va-a-len's b-o-ond-ma-ate... Kre-s-simir.''

"A man never tells," Baker laughs, taking Kres's hand. "Nice to meet you, man. Want an extra blanket? I got a spare."

"Kres is a total wuss when it comes to the cold." Valen admits, "But he's a good partner all around. Thanks for sticking up for me by the way."

He shook hand with the man who seemed to be the only one who wasn't a jerk. As he proposed an extra blanket, Kresimir smiled. ''Oooh... Ye-a-ah... I d-d-on't mind t-the e-xtra... t-t-that woul-ld be sw-e-et....and I'm n-not a wuss ! J-Just d-d-on't h-have wa-a-arm c-clothes.'' He pouts toward Valen near the end.

"You'll get used to it, we'll probably have more come in the supply train, so just hold out bud."

The man pulls out another blanket from underneath his bed. "No problem, Val. YOu helped me out in the good ol' days." He plops the blanket on top of Kres' stomach, without unfolding it, revealing that the blanket is black with purple stripes. "Name's Baker, by the way, dude. Look forward to having you guys here to help us."

"Anytime Baker." Valen says smiling, "So what was John talking about earlier? Something about missing sleep..."

''I s-s-sure ho-p-pe there w-w-will be... '' He told Valen toward the supply subject. Looked like the last thing anyone thought about was warm clothes in supplies. ''T-thanks.'' Kres said with a smile, quickly settling the blanket. ''I-I j-just ho-p-pe I won't s-s-slow y-you guys d-d-own... Or t-t-turn m-a-ad. '' He let out a sigh, he knew he wouldn't get used to that place at all. Valen then ask the guy about the sleep subject. ''Y-yeah... w-w-hat did h-h-e mean ?''

Baker opens his mouth to speak, but shuts up as soon as Jiles walks in. "Welp, good night, guys. See you tomorrow on shift." He rushes to his bed.

Kresimir frown and look toward the door. Oh great it was the Kurian dude he didn't trust. Why did he have to show up now ? They were having a nice conversation here.

Odd. Valens says looking at Baker cut off the conversation while Jiles appearance. I don't remember Jiles inspiring this level of unease. Valen thought looking over at the Command... scratch that Sub-commander. "Sir, I was just asking about what John meant about not sleeping good tonight. Seemed slightly odd, anything I need to know about?"

The room falls silent as Jiles looks at John with an annoyed expression. John sinks under his covers. He turns and then finds an empty bed, crawling up onto it. "Nightmares, Val, nightmares. Happens every time we get new folks. It lasts for a week, but it's the first night that's Hell. So be prepared, gentlemen."

Valen suddenly remembers.... Ohhh shit. "I remember, it's not going to be pleasant."
Turning towards John he speaks up, "Hey! John! Trade me, I'll call it tomorrow k?"

"No." The man says, "This one's mine, now."

Kresimir was slightly annoyed how everyone, but them knew it and how the guy didn't mention it before or seemed like he would have skipped the subject if they would not have asked. ''Why d-d-o I f-f-eel l-l-ike you we-e-eren't going to i-i-inform us if w-e-e didn't ask ?!... And... V-V-valen care to e-explain s-sin-c-ce this guy o-o-bviously won't ...'' It's then that valen ask john to trade with him. ''S-say w-what V-alen !?...'' He replied almost wanting to face-palm.

"Seriously now. You'd be doing me a favor, so switch?"

'V-v-valen ?! .... M-ind to e-e-xplain how i-i-t would do y-y-you a f-f-avor ?!...''

"Fine, O.K." Valen says looking at Kresimir, "Tonight, we're going to have nightmares. Semi personal ones, that will be pretty bad. There are certain things I'd not like to relive or dream about." Thumbing towards John, "If he'll trade, I can sleep in the wreck over there, and it will maybe help keep me from sleeping all night. Keep me from dreaming so much." Looking at John, "Trade?"

"I was already going to tell you...Kresimir, was it?" Jiles cuts in. John begins to do some sort of fake, snoring sound.

"Seriously?" Valen sighs, and mutters under his breath, "Ass."

Kresimir was about to answer to Valen considering he didn't get how that worked, but Jiles came into the conversation. ''Y-eah... K-Kresimir...'' He turn back his head to Valen. ''H-how is it we'll h-h-ave n-n-nightmares... a-a-nd that y-you're s-s-so sure ?...''

"Definitely Kres, we will. Happens everything someone new shows up." Looking towards the fire he sighs. "How did I ever forget about it?"

'T-t-that's w-w-eird.... D-d-does it h-h-ave s-s-something to d-d-o with the bell ?...'' Kresimir asked, curious.

"No clue Kres, rest up bud." Sitting down to put on his boots, Valen informs Kres about where he'll be going. "I'll go warn Thormod, see yah in the morning." He stands up, and waves. "Zaethura, stay here for now. I'll be back in a minute, no worries." The last part he directs at Kresimir, smiling halfheartedly.

"No one knows," Jiles says with annoyance, "I'd have stopped it by now."

Logrin heads out the door and down the hall to find Thormod and fill him in.

[ATTN: Micia]

Maive nods with agreement. "Yes...we need to prepare everyone. Let's head to the room and I can talk explain it to everyone. Maybe Alwilda will have some tips on how to handle it. She's a strong person."

She stands up, pulling Micia up with her. They are ready to move in when light catches their eyes. It would be Beret's fiery cloak. He smiles from outside of the wall's protection, out there in his own puddle of water. He lifts his arm and waves, greeting them from afar pleasantly. Maive smiles weakly and waves back--something she wouldn't normally do.

"Ready to get to bed?" Maive asks as they head in, "I think it's best we talk this through and get some sleep. Or at least...try to sleep."

{Attn: Maive}

Micia stands with Maive and shakes her head. “No, I don’t think she will have any good advice. I can picture her saying. ‘I can’t believe you shitheads are afraid of the cocksuckers ghost stories.’” The last part she did in her attempt at impersonating Taldor Caldwell. “In a way I am inclined to believe her. There are no such things as ghosts after all.” She sees Beret’s fiery cloak and greeting. She waves back, surprised when Maive does the same. “Wow Maive could it be that someone has a crush. He will keep you warm in bed I bet.” She elbows Maive gently and smirks as they approach their room.

“You worry too much Maive my dear. I for one am looking for some rest. I know tomorrow I have to send a letter off to dad about some leftover smithy supplies. I am not looking forward to constructing one from the ground up. I just hope the Commander isn’t upset that I went to Jiles with my proposal.”

They enter the room and Micia sits on a bed in the middle of the room. “Well, I have slept on worse. At least the blankets look warm.” She grabs her bag and sets it on the bed with her. She waits for the others to arrive.

[ATTN: Micia, Maive, Open]

She liked the crisp night air. She disliked the frigid atmosphere. On the one hand, the night was so beautiful in the wild. On the other, she didn't much like the idea of a Kurian attack... especially in this frozen wasteland. Victoire really hated everything and loved everything all at the same time. "Alright, let's go back..." This was one of those times that she felt blessed to have magic. Her ability to hover to the fortress' main entrance and then quickly return to her dorm was unparalleled.

Her return was met with the two captains. "Good evening," she states with little emotion, "how are you two tonight?" Victoire's encounter with the evil commander had left her with a disdain for authority, and she did not want to lash out at her captains.

[Attn: Rathlea, Altiere, Victoire, Kresmir, Open]

Alwilda stumbled on a stair, leaning against the wall and catching herself before she fell. G*ddamn it... This was why she hadn't wanted to stop working. The sleep crash was coming earlier in the week than normal thanks to that worthless fuck of a commander waking her up yesterday. Adrenaline, and green, had been the only two things that had kept her going.

She glared at Adrian's concern as he reached over, her look challenging him to say anything. When he relented, she spoke.

"Now, what the fuck is this about?" she growled, starting to climb the steps again. "And if you don't stop all that g*ddamn worrying about me I'm gonna kick you in your g*ddamn balls till you permanently sing soprano."

She hated the link for that very reason. He was always a knot of duty most of the time. But worry always sprang up when she was around--usually worry about her actions. This time it was about her and it was fucking insulting.

Luthar let out a sigh, looking back down at her and rolling his eyes. She was so easily offended sometimes. He took a deep breath, trying to calm down so as not to irritate the woman further. “I discussed that bell again with Jiles tonight,” he said. “He told me a lot more about it than he told the unit. Seems it happens every time there are new men down here.” He walked steadily up the stairs, testing their stability with his foot before he moved up each one.

She shook herself, the weariness was descending viciously now that she was no longer active. "Okay," she said. "So, what? Some fucks are hazing us? How fucking sweet. Let me do some digging and I'll find the dicks responsible and before I'm through with them, they'll wish they didn't have one."

"That'd be nice," he said, "if we knew what was responsible. Jiles says that they have been unable to find any source for the bell, or for what happens after. Apparently it continues tonight." His voice was tight, controlled. Jiles might be lying, maybe as some practical joke, but to a superior officer? That would be asking for a court martialing.

"Oh, goody," she said, suddenly cheerful as she slammed a fist into her open palm and rubbed her knuckles thoughtfully, "a mystery no one has yet to solve. Or maybe doesn't want to. What better way for those fucks to weed out the strong from the weak. I'd almost approve except this new g*ddamn mollycoddling they do in 'the new army--'" her disdainful tone revealed her thoughts on that "says that shit's no longer kosher. At least bringing the fucks responsible down will give me something..."

It clicked. "Is that why those g*ddamn sons of bitches were looking at me so fucking expectantly when they were leaving? Motherfuckers..."

He sighed. "The bell we don't know about," he said. "But apparently the first night new guys suffer from nightmares – “

They came out on top, finally, into the remains of the bell tower. It was empty, silent, and as Jiles had said, no sign of a bell, only a steel ring where it might once have hung. Luthar sighed. “But yes, nightmares,” he said. “Bad ones. They’re worse for women, apparently. If someone’s trying to haze us it might be some form of magic…”

Alwilda nodded. "That was my line of thinking," she said. "Did he say how long this has been going on? I'd probably start looking at the rosters and see who's been here the longest and their magical powers--unless they somehow managed to have one that isn't noted? But that's against Giver protocol. If I can't find any leads there...I don't know. My only guess, then, would be that there's a rogue soldier out in the wild trying to scare people off?"

He nodded. "Something to look into," he said. He stood still, looking about the old tower, afraid to move should some part of the floor suddenly cave. "But the fact is, we simply don't have time to look into that tonight. 271 is going to sleep soon, so it'll be starting for them, at least." He gave a short laugh. "And as much as I'd like to stay up the whole night I probably won't be able to..." Definitely should have waited to head out rather than leaving right away...

He looked over at Al again, suppressed his worry yet again. "Rathlea is already telling the women, but they'll be deferring to you, I imagine."

Alwilda rolled her eyes. "No, they won't," she said with a dark chuckle. "I'm the fucking unapproachable Taldor ogre." That was one of the nicer things said about her behind her back. "However, I came here to do a fucking job and until I have proof that that fuck--no, I'll do my job in spite of that shit because I fucking agreed to it..."

She punched a wall. "Fuck," she said. "I gotta...talk to those fucking wallflowers, don't I...?"

He gave her a stern look. “Yes, princess,” he said, shooting her a wry smile. “Probably.”

He looked around the old bell tower and sighed, rubbing his palms together against the cold. “Try not to alienate them too much?” he asked jokingly, masking his guilt and worry.

She cast about glaring at the world for putting her in this situation. The place looked like shit. She didn't...mollycoddle...and now she was expected to.

"What happened to the good ol' days?" she growled. "Used to, you sucked it up and went about your business. Now, all these g*ddamn New Age fucks with their 'feelings' and 'talking' bullshit want you to change their fucking diapers and tuck them in..."

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not telling you to sing them a lullaby, dear," he said. "Just keep things in control, alright?" His gaze shifted from her, and he sighed. "I'll try to stay awake tonight," he said. "If you need me for anything..."

Damn it, she’d think he didn’t respect her, of course, the damn girl thought everything was some personal attack, but he just didn’t want her to suffer through whatever was coming on her own. Heavens knew no one else here was on her side.

Her jaw tightened and grip tightened, though she didn't look in his direction. "I'm not some fucking pansy wallflower what needs protecting by the g*ddamn 'big strong man,' you fucking arrogant prick piece of shit..." she said through gritted teeth.

She turned sharply and started stomping back down the stairs. "I'm gonna go give our g*ddamn pussies a talking to, Commander Fuckwad. Why don't you pass on your hope to get laid to them!!"

“I never suggested that, Al – “ he called after her, but she was already gone, clearly not listening any longer as she stormed down the stairs. She’s gonna make the whole place collapse under her.

He swore under his breath. That went about as well as he had expected. He rubbed his eyes. Damn, he could feel her anger through their link still, and it was almost overwhelming – a wash of red rage, like a tide that rises to drown.

He waited for her to get down before he followed after, anger starting to rise up in him, as well. Was it so horrible that he actually gave a shit about her? Fucking hell, he was her bondmate, they were supposed to rely on each other, but for some reason she thought every time he tried to help that he was looking down on her. How is that even logical?

He finally reached the bottom, his footsteps growing more confident as he strode into the men’s quarters.

All she could see was red by the time she had hit the bottom of the stairs. "Arrogant fucking bastard!" she roared. "How fucking dare he?! I'm not some g*ddamn 'little woman' that needs protecting, you g*ddamn chauvenistic prick!"

She stormed outside and found herself in front of the nearest tree and began punching the shit out of it like they had a blood feud. The relentless pounding continued for ten straight minutes without rest before the rage abated. She ignored the throb in her bleeding knuckles and went back inside, her anger back down to its controllable levels.

She had a job to do, and it would be done. She went to the supplies and grabbed a pair of thermals. She walked into the men's dorms, strolled over to Kresmir and shoved them into his chest. She sighed angrily and tried to calm herself, relenting on the pressure and trying to not ram them through his chest.

"Thermals," she said tightly. "Sleep well, soldier..."

She stormed back out of the men's area, ignoring her bastard linkmate all the while and charged into the women's area. Luckily for her, they were all together.

"You three," she said, rage still twisted in her voice. "With me. Now."

She turned on a heel and stormed out, not bothering to look and see if they were following and heading back to where they had dinner. She paced as she waited for them to catch up. If she had been a cat, her fur would have been bristling and her tail lashing about.

{Attn: ladies}

Micia looks up when Taldor Caldwell comes in. The lady looks like she was hanging around with men too much. Micia wonders if there was a reason why she hates men so much. The Taldor left the room as quickly as she entered. Micia raises an eyebrow and looks at the other two. “Looks like the Taldor has her thermal underwear in a bunch. We better catch up before ours are next.”

Micia gets a wicked smirk on her face. Perhaps it could be a true beauty to tame the beast who knows. I mean the Taldor was nice to her earlier. She opens the door and waits for the other ladies to exit the room.

[ATTN: Taldor, Rathlea, Altiere]

Fuck. Now was not the time for this to come up, she felt incredibly antsy at this point. Her heart rate began to pulse with a slight hiccup every now and then, coinciding with her looks to either Rathlea or Altiere, and she fought the primal urge... she didn't know where it was coming from, and Victoire hated it. Every time. She clutched her mighty poleaxe like a favoured toy, and she looked at Altiere... "Thanks for fixing my axe... I really like it." She coughed out, seemingly a little flat. Her former energy was clearly not in her, and it was certainly not helping that the Taldor was here. Damn, that body... Those curves... that ass...

The jet black locks of the Taldor were far from the tattered, shot cobwebs she thought of when she had originally met the harsh woman. No, they were like black silk drapes, flowing in the wind. Gulping, she got up and followed her, with conflicting feelings. Again, on the one hand, there was her hatred of authority at this point. She had been spurned by that asshole of a commander for being a lowly ensen when she could probably have EASILY been a captain by now, or even a Taldor in a smaller fortification. On the other, there was the case of... well, she couldn't explain. But something attracted her to... whatever the Taldor was. Whatever Micia was. Hell, whatever her sisters were, when she thought about it. It scared her, though she didn't let it show as she paced just behind the Taldor.

[Attn: Open]

Having found Thormod and having a talk with him for a bit, making sure he'd know about the nightmares had been good. Thormod still looked shaken up about Ayade.... well what he thought about Ayade was a lie. It had been nerve wracking for Valen to keep that info from his squad mate. He wasn't the best of friends with Zeran, but lying to him still wasn't making him feel any better.

Valen walked up the stairs, noting new sets of footprints in sparse dust on the stone steps. It had become apparent to him that the stones needed to be redone as he had almost had a terrible fall earlier on his way up. A slight patch of dark ice and a loose step had banged up his leg pretty bad, not in a medical attention kind of way but it made walking up the remaining steps more difficult.

Luckily for him the cold was invasive enough that it numbed his leg just enough that he managed to get to the top. Wobbling in Valen looks around, not a animal in sight.... "Well that was a wasted trip I guess." How was he supposed to pass time charming animals now... any that remained most likely heard him come up and fled.

Picking up the torch he looks around for a minute. "Nope, no bell." Logrin confirms looking up into the old framework and not finding it. "My guess is they took it down and sold it at some point."

His search did reveal several dozen nests in various nooks of the rafters, lots of offal. The crunching of bones as he walked through it,
most likely mice or rats the owls had eaten over the years. Crouching down to investigate the footprints evident through out the room, "Well seems someone came up for a look earlier, can't say I'm not surprised. Doesn't help me though." he says standing back up.

Looking at his torch forlornly he sighs, "Waste not, want not." extinguishing the torch and plunging himself into darkness. Love to keep you burning, but you'd drive off the animals. Plus I need you for the trip back down. Sweeping aside an area with his foot, he makes it slightly cleaner before crossing his legs and settling down in wait for them to return...

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[Dream Sequence]

Spoiler:

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" ----irits!" Valen says snapping awake and panting heavily. Around him he can hear the sudden noises of beasts out to attack him, screeching and flapping wings. He grabs hold of his magic ready to protect himself, he doesn't know how or from what exactly but he holds onto it anyway. He can see the shapes fleeing away, not shades or daemons, just owls.

"Heed and obey." his hand reaching out to capture them with his magic. He feels the magic sink into them, capturing a few of the fleeing birds..

Putting his hand on his chest he tries to calm his racing heart. "Ohh hell, I'd forgotten how real they where." His body hurts as he tries to move, and get the aches and phantom pains out.

Reaching out he gestures for the animals to come back, "Return." compelling them back into the roost. "Well Valen, you've got your birds now, time to get to it." he definitely doesn't want to fall back asleep. "You, land here." He commands one of the owls, the largest of them.

Extending a hand towards the owl he draws on more magic, amplifying the hold on the creature. Slowly a spell form begins to scrawl across the floor, a glowing blue light that circles around the two of them. "You are to become my servant, until the the moon waxes and wanes from this day to the same in the next cycle...." he starts as scrawl begins to work it's way to the bird and over it, forming into densely packed whorls and lines, his lips speaking in it's language as he slowly, painstakingly, makes this animal his....