the scattering

[groundrules]

And now, hard siege during Alem’s first log event, covering 27 January to 12 February.

This Arc relies on information sharing and troubleshooting solutions, whether to keep the watch towers standing, find the Reaper, hold back Rathakku or evacuate civilians. Don’t be shy!

As a refresher, character have individual assignment & notes — but rest easily, they can largely go anywhere in Alem and play out any prompt below.

Click each header for scenarios!

THE SCATTERING

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Alem’s chilly welcome includes a gift of weapons, clothes and meagre food provisions. You are quickly given your posts and grudgingly tolerated by fortress natives, many of whom accuse you of collusion with Rathakku or the merchant guilds. Expect unkind tests or teasing from soldiers who want you to prove your worth.

■ SLEEPING ARRANGEMENTS: rare beds and hard pallets in the Keep barracks, sharing broad rooms infantrymen. Alternatively, sleep in the Wards, with refugees or the sick.

■ ARSENAL: you receive serviceable weapons or inherited clothes — ragged, over/undersized and perhaps livened by fleas.

■ FOOD: scant, dry, hard and prioritised for the weak, young, sickly or actively fighting. Scarce additional resources, such as berries and deer meat, can be procured from the nearby forests on the lower half of the mountain.

■ ACCESS: characters can go to anywhere, except the Room of Seals. Entering the Watch Towers will be discouraged during attacks, unless you were assigned these posts.

■ Between 7-10 February, Rathakku will Claw — meaning necromancers, the dead and those who are incredibly sensitive to life and death are vulnerable to his thrall. They could be conscripted into his armies, if they exit the fortress or linger long outside. Ghosts might woo them to enter the mountain forests, and they will itch with wanderlust and a sense of incompletion. Comment here with an idea of what you'd like you character to do/a> if they are lured to Rathakku’s side.

■ NPCs: each fortress level has a designated NPC you can reach out to. Deimar will additionally be visiting the Watch Tower, following Stephen Strange’s taunts.

THE WATCH TOWERS

The first and most war-torn line of defence. The watch towers keep Alem standing — fend off their attackers.

       EASTERN TOWER

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■ Assigned to the Eastern Tower: Jinx, Vi, Hermione and Chu Wanning. Medic: Leonard ‘Bones’ McCoy.

■ Harpies frequently charge here, using their blade-sharp claws and deep fangs. They are humanoid but carnivorous and expressly prey on tower watchers. The scent of blood lures them — so Bones should quickly bandage wounds.
■ Bad weather hides their attacks. Beware the mists of 29 January and the blizzards of 3-6 February.

■ Cut the harpies’ legs if they fly away with you — better to risk a hard fall into the mountain’s snowy than being dragged into their nests.

■ They are vulnerable to loud sounds and vibrations. Set off the great, rusted tower bells to sound the alarm and repel them.

       WESTERN TOWER

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■ Assigned to the Western Tower: Eleven, Xie Yun, Kahl and Eda. Medic: Sarah Bishop.

■ Flurries of arrows frequently rain down, plain, fire or poison-tipped. They are shot in two broad attacks (morning and evening) by orc archers.

■ Sarah receives a kit of local ointment antidotes, but must make haste — the sickness spreads quickly and paralyses limbs. (Effects disappear over 1-6 hours, once the antidote is applied).

■ A rare few arrows are tipped with hallucinogen substances that trigger paranoid visions.

■ Orcs may try to scale this tower, using climbing hooks. Push them down.

       SOUTHERN TOWER

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■ Assigned to the Southern Tower: Jon Snow, Stephen Strange, Red and Finn. Medic: Wen Qing.

■ Irenia, Frost’s Scourge, an ancient, extremely large but slow dragon stops first at the Southern Tower before proceeding to other watch posts. She will turn back, if she is stopped here.

■ The dragon breathes down frost that can paralyse you in place, or freeze limbs. Wen Qing must prioritise warming the affected.

■ A few anti-frost shields have been supplied, but their magic wanes after a few hours. Use them as a last resort.

■ Irenia’s hide is tough and leathery, but she can be deflected by continuous attack. She no longer seems to hear or see as sharply.

■ She largely flies by, breathes ice and tries to pick up watchers in her great maws, then crack their bones or throw them down on hard stone.

■ Repel her for three consecutive days and she will not return for a week.

       NORTHERN TOWER

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■ Assigned to the Northern Tower: Kamala Khan, Wanda Maximoff, Merrin and Jiang Cheng. Medic: Anduin.

■ Demons draw large catapults near the fortress walls and throw strong projectiles at this tower — stone, large steel balls or even human or demonic.

■ The worst missiles comprise stones alight with ‘living fire’ — an extraordinarily hot blaze that can quickly incinerate tissue. Anduin should immediately attend to burns.

■ The tower is exceptionally weathered and structurally unsound, marked by large, destabilising holes. Kerasstone asks you to fix the infrastructure or guard his repairmen.

■ The ongoing damage sometimes triggers quakes in the fragile tower — hold on and don’t fall crumbling to your deaths.

■ Use the one-man crossbows and range weapons available, or the fixed large tower crossbows to shoot back and destroy the catapults.

THE KEEP

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Life at court, when the knives come out: barracks, royal halls and Crown Prince Haiva’s medical quarters await.

KINGDOM COME

The court of Alem bustles with rival proposals: the supporters of Crown Prince Haiva want to surrender the citadel, while proponents of former Regent Thyvault seek to raise the remaining armed forces in a desperate last stand against Rathakku. King Deimar, mere months in his rule, has opted to evacuate convoys and resettle them, after sealing away any last chance of Rathakku accessing hell’s gates.

■ The supporters of Haiva, Thyvault and Deimar wage frequent wars of words that accuse Thyvault of Deimar of usurpring rule, and Haiva of being too weak to lead.

■ Thyvault’s men slyly wonder if Deimar killed the beautiful woman he was seen wooing mere months ago in the fortress grounds. Proof of her death or continued survival would benefit the three causes.

■ The woman was last seen chased by a fair-haired rider into the frosted forests that Rathakku has peopled with monstrous wolves and undead Alem huntsmen. Interrogate hunters & commoners or track her down.

■ Tempers boil over Jan. 29-Feb. 5, with arguments frequently devolving into fights and shallow stabbing. As ‘supporters’ of the three gentlemen, you should defend their cause — but do pull back blows before you kill each other.

■ Deimar punished brawlers with a few days of penitent confinement in the barracks, where you are expected to reflect on your sins and attitude, and certainly not join the cliques of heavily drinking men playing dares and cards. Hold your liquor, survive the exceptionally spicy Alem meals and take advantage of the general inebriation to ask your questions of the brass — without showing your horror when you hear them boast that Thyvault’s men drove the local ice mermaid population extinct.

IS THERE A DOCTOR IN THE HOUSE?

The Haiva’s medics ( Bones, Sarah Bishop, Anduin and Wen Qing) are repeatedly called in to inspect his fits of sudden and elusive sickness. He exhibits a varied multitude of bizarre symptoms when his healers visit him:

■ Bones finds Haiva is a haemophiliac, his skin brittle like paper.

■ For Sarah Bishop, Haiva is overwhelmingly feverish, battling an unseen infection.

■ Wen Qing sees patches on Haiva’s skin that resemble decaying, moulding or gangrene.

■ Anduin notices Haiva’s skin feels clammy, his breathing stalled, as if his body were entering rigor mortis. He is very much alive.

Haiva is always weak, but gratefully and mysteriously cured of his symptoms within hours of his consultation. You can start a thread with him!

Info sharing with the medics’ club is caring!

THE CROSSING

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The bustling, stifling and overheated Crossing reunites the main ground-level gates and corridors of Alem’s castle. Merchants traverse the halls, volunteering their wares at exorbitant prices, while former Regent Thyvault leads the departing troops.

HAGGLE GAGGLE

■ Colluding merchants offer their less-than-stellar goods at heinous rates. You get 100 coins to haggle long, hard and to the bone for food, cloth and maps, amid war inflation. Offer your hair, your virtue, the ugly side of your fist as needed. No one will mind if you liberate a few wares.

■ Two of the most prominent merchants — boastful Batthour of the grains and stern Eles, vendor of maps, silks and steel — openly despise each other. Their apprentices frequently start brawling — stay out of their way or stoke the clashes…

■ Batthour and Eles are both open to trade, but seem distinctly disdainful of Alem, expressing pleasure from profiteering in its downfall. Group up to raise coin or other goods to trade, then put in your best offer. The next few Alem convoys require 500kg of wheat and at least three maps of eastward provinces to resettle.

THE WAR IN WORDS

■ WHEN IT GRAINS, RED POURS: Under Thyvault’s leadership, Alem’s scouts and infantry gather in the Crossing for final instructions then advance into Rathakku’s territory. You can join them on a mission to the Ivory plains at the bottom of the mountain, where a few frozen storage houses still have summer grains. Steal back the supplies, bypassing snow-buried traps and Rathakku’s lingering feral creatures.

■ King Deimar has prepared new missives for Rathakku. Multiple envoys can group up to ensure delivery down the mountain and into the warlord’s encampment in the Tattered Highlands. Your white flag buys limited patience from Rathakku’s demonic armies. Only two characters can directly interact with the warlord — Sign up for one of two spots by 23:55 GMT on 30 January. Note: Rathakku should be approached lightly.

THE WARDS

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The ill-lit Wards house the wounded, young, crippled or vulnerable of Alem, alongside those preparing to evacuate the fortress in upcoming convoys. Where there is sickness and overcrowding, expect poor provisions, the astringent scent of antiseptic, and a sense of residual decay. The lucky few sleep on pallets — while most dwellers take the hard ground and share dry bread. Soft-spoken Crown Prince Haiva visits regularly.

THINK OF THE CHILDREN

■ Weak civilians are often targeted by soldiers, who are frustrated by sharing their resources with ‘leeches’ who do not defend the citadel. Intervene to protect the vulnerable and redistribute any food that is unfairly confiscated. Prince Haiva will lend his scarce authority to correct any reported wrongdoings.

■ Learn to supply first aid, console orphaned children or widow(er)s and ease the spirits of those petrified by the recent murders.

■ A convoy prepares to leave on 9 Feb, with another due on 15 Feb. Pack the scant effects of the weak and plead for the gold or charity of the Keep’s gentry. Whatever resources you gain will greatly help the survival odds of those who resettle.

■ Inevitably, death visits some of the wounded. Professional grievers and coarse embalmers perform cleansing and mourning rites for survivors. Help them, or participate in the local habit of sharing tales of your most tragic sorrows, to distract them from their own.

WATSON ON DUTY

■ The investigative summary, as civilians can share them: five unrelated deaths took place over the past 11 weeks. Some speak superstitiously of a Reaper, who punishes the people of Alem for abandoning their fortress and sacred duty to protect the gate to hell.

■ The victims were all men aged 22-35 of diverse appearances and backgrounds. Some had minor injuries. They were all found without marks of wounding or sickness, bearing a white string bound to their wrists. One of the men was a foreign merchant.

■ Senior sorceress Althea searched the site and cleansed bodies, finding no evidence of magical interference.

■ Haiva has reinforced guards, but Deimar seems indifferent. Thyvault believes this is only an inevitably level of mundane crime.

■ Some nights, you might wake to the haunting song of a plangent woman. You enter a state of dreamy, confused hypnosis, drawn to a narrow, steep staircase you had not glimpsed before. You fumble towards the lake caves of the Gut’s Bind. Even the intrusive voices of Alem tell you to snap out of it and awaken — but your best bet is a companion’s help.

■ The staircase cannot be found again, come morning. The call is fainter for women, and does not affect the same person more than one-two nights.

■ Guards, sorcerers and civilians can answer your questions — but prepare your bribes and wooing.

THE GUT’S BIND

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It’s nice, dark and quiet in here, barring the comforting thrum of the forges. Paladins and sorcerers are hard at their elusive work, reinforcing the Room of Seals. Access to the Forges, mines and glacier lake caves remains liberal.

LAKES, MINES, MAYHEM

■ THE MINES: Characters deployed to find new escape routes find a series of corridors leading into the previously bustling gold mines, where ore resources remain well supplied. The territory is overwhelmingly shaky, with mine shafts and structures prone to collapse. They appear dusty, brittle, husked and far older than their actual age. Go deep enough and you can find sheets haphazardly strewn about and the remains of partly devoured demons.

■ THE LAKES: Saunter into a series of four interconnected ice lake caves, where the brutal cold is viciously wounding and pervasive. The first three caves give you no trouble, beyond ridiculously sharp icicles waiting to drop down. As you enter the fourth cave, you find gleaming stretches of golden, gleaming… scales that float on the lake waters. Grab one to study — but beware the starved creature that guards them.

■ THE FORGES: some entirely abandoned, some functional, all well-equipped at this time. Settle down alone, or in the company of Kerasstone’s people — the old blood that preceded even Alem’s settlement and holy seal in the mountains.

■ Keep an ear out for sudden sounds or unexpected steps behind you, as you travel the tighter and tighter passageways to find or shovel new exit routes through the mountain: some of Rathakku’s creatures appear to have… wandered in. They camouflage as stone and lay perfectly still in wait of their prey, before descending. They’re vulnerable to strong light and a jolly smiting.

LOCK YOUR DOORS

■ Paladins and sorcerers enter the heavily warded and barricaded Room of Seals every few hours. They emerge exhausted, their resources drained. Some also bear heavy gashes.

■ Characters are barred from entering and incarcerated for a day in one of the Keep’s jails or brought before Galatea’s judgement, if they attempt to sneak in.

■ Groans and screams can be occasionally heard from within, followed by spikes in the sense of deathliness of the place. Some paladins are never seen exiting.

■ You have one chance to enter, at midnight on 1 February, when the Gut’s Bind erupts into calls for healers to attend an emergency. Collapsed paladins are urgently pulled out, while sorcerers attempt to ward the room before ultimately fleeing to help their brethren. You can infiltrate and stay inside for 20 minutes before the stoked anger of the room completely overwhelms you, and you begin to bodily attack everyone and everything around you. This is a dangerous route: check in for one of three findings scenarios.

QUESTIONS

Comments

[scrapgege]

[The commotion is starting to attract more people, none of them looking very friendly towards that soldier, and after a last string of profanity he finally turns tail and disappears in the crowd while everyone starts murmuring after him.]

Alright, it's fine, it's fine. The children aren't hurt, so everything's fine.

[jatharin]

"Old man king thought..." Laughter, not unlike scoffing. "He could win. And he doesn't need the like of us, ehhhh, pretty boy? Ehhh?"

She turns, abruptly, to spit to the side, as if she might on the dead monarch's own corpse. On his face.

"Called us parasites. Said... we take advantage. Heh. I ask you, this is business, or...? What is this?"

Of course they take advantage. They are risking limb and neck. "We were not... friends... of course. You are not friends, if you sell to a man. But his words, they hurt deeply. So deeply. We thought Regent Thyvault saw more sense, had more... more of the..." A claw to her temples, signaling the brain. "More. Then came the boy... the boy Deimar. And now you tell me he does business with Batthour."

[jatharin]

( Between gritted teeth: ) My king is a flighty boy. Who wastes half of our best trained paladins in the Gut's Bind, wooing seals. These men, turned to purpose, would be critical to our defences. To our advance.

He seems, for a moment, to consider the returning men with a softer face. Shudders. )

We could take Rathakku.

[beitangmoran]

How?

[yes, he's insisting a bit here, but is there really anything but bluster and pride there, or the need for revenge?]

Have you killed an undead lord before, my Lord? Do you even know what it takes?

You cannot take him as you are now, and a thousand more paladins would not change that. He can raise ten thousand more with the snap of a finger.

[traumatology]

Murderer.

( well, that's familiar. once upon a time, that had been him. he takes a slow breath and stops, crouching down and pressing his hand to the dirt. it's cool, like the light hasn't hit it in some time.

he wonders how long this place has been walled off. )

What else do they say about this murderer?

[jatharin]

( There is a moment when it seems as if Thyvault might bear the words with fatigue and grace, with nonchalance. He does not move.

Then, calmly, his hand goes to his sword, the blade leaves sheath — and arrives in one rapid arc close to Beitang Moran's neck, never biting. A fine thing that the man is sat, all the easier to reach him. )

Whom do you think you speak to? When I have been fighting this war for years? We have killed more of these creatures than your pathetic, miserable self has dreamed of.

( There's no telling what Deimar keeps you strangers for, like dogs. More mouths to feed. Maybe to spew his nonsense, like this one is. ) I won't have you insult me by teaching me war with the dead. The fucking mouth on you.

[beitangmoran]

[Moran doesn't move. Doesn't even give a start. It's not the first time he's had a blade at his neck, it won't be the last. In a pinch, he's pretty sure his power will activate and even without it, he's a soldier too and he can defend himself. And maybe, if he were more charitably inclined, he'd feel bad about pressing a man in Thyvault's situation.

He does not, in fact, feel very charitable right now. But interested to see that this is what makes the man angry.]

My companions and I have killed two of them. Not just the pathetic zombies they use as soldiers, their war lords. Given our track records and yours, we could teach you a thing or two, my Lord.

If you had the means, you would have used them. You know that you don't. You're a soldier, and I do not take you for an imbecile. So why insist on a tactic that you should know, deep down, will not work?

Unless, of course, you're hiding something from King Deimar. But you wouldn't do that, would you? Put your own pride above the needs of the people here, just because you think your nephew is unfit for his throne?

There are whispers, my Lord. Many of them. I refused to think they were true, because in times of war, poisoned information is as lethal as any blade.

[Just then the servant is coming back with a basin of steaming water, stopping dead at the scene and looking unsure of what to do. Moran smiles reassuringly at him.]

Put that down over here and be on your way. Go tell His Highness Haiva I might be a bit late to our meeting.

[jatharin]

( And just as evenly, as carefully, to the servant: )

You will do no such thing. You will tell my captain to bring chains. ( A beat. ) And a horse's muzzle.

( His attention sharpens on on Beitang Moran, snarl deepening as the servant scuttles away. )

I don't know who you think you are, schooling me. But I will not stand for it. It is only Deimar's hospitality that keeps you alive. You are absurd, speaking to me in this way.

( But then, the captain does come, and so Thyvault honours the man — blood-stained, clearly returned from the warfront. )

Take him for jailing in the Keep. I don't know where Deimar finds them.

[beitangmoran]

[Moran doesn't resist and simply stands up, ready to follow wherever he is taken. Having an actual fight isn't the goal here.]

You're not helping your cause by acting this way, my Lord. But suit yourself. On the day your pride does not stand in the way, maybe you'll remember this conversation.

Show the way, captain.

[jatharin]

( It's a good muzzle the captain wraps around the prisoner's mouth, all the while Thyvault, exasperated, only sheathes his sword — )

What is he talking about? I swear, Deimar brings them mad.

( But it hardly matters. Beitang Moran is chained and led away in the Keep. He may retain his pendant. As soldiers are largely purposed towards the offensive, only a handful of infantry men are posted to guard the jails.

Beitang Moran will share with court brawlers and defectors until he either he is broken out, or Haiva hears within three days and begs his uncle for clemency. )

[blackscales]

"We don't," he agrees, frowning in thought. His eyes skip out into the area again, then return to Wanda. "There's also the question of if this is a symptom of something else. If this is a lone murderer, or haunting, of course on the scale of things it isn't worth too much attention. However, we do have a legion of undead outside and some... interesting seals keeping out worse things below. It could be an infiltrator, or something that slipped through those seals. I'd say that was rather important, wouldn't you?"

If their defences have been breached, from outside or below, and something is causing chaos --

Well, it may start small then grow.

[blackscales]

The guard looks between them, wary, then away with a frown.

"Don't know," he says, then: "she's gone now, isn't she? Gone, rode out the front gate."

"She was pursued?" Wrathion prompts, and the guard grows more uncomfortable too.

"Think so," he hedges, looking around again. As if he might get in trouble for saying this much.

Wrathion glances at Pietro, thoughtful.

"Being chased out? Or someone trying to stop her?"

[blackscales]

"You should," he murmurs, studying Hermione thoughtfully. "But it was a very impressive trick."

Flattery soothes, and he doesn't think Hermione will object to some when she's tired and not quite feeling as at ease as she could. It would soothe him, after all, and he thinks they aren't so different in that.

[blackscales]

It's quite the firm dressing down. Some of them shy, taking the words to heart, but some seem to prickle in response to the words.

"And what do you know of it?" one prompts, and Wrathion sighs in response.

"We shouldn't be hiding inside anyway," another says, "Thyvault knew that. We should be outside, taking the fight to them! Defending this place with our blood!"

"Dying in the process," Wrathion adds wryly. "Now, please, let us not all embarrass ourselves."

[slippin]

[ It's gratifying—even though all Jimmy really did was pick up a few crumbs of gossip—to see the man's face change, to see him enthralled by something so tiny. He gives a soft laugh, holds the gem up so it catches the light. Admiring. ] A connoisseur. [ Jimmy, no one here speaks French. ]

I don't want to, but— [ He curls his hand around the sapphire, drives his fist absently into his free hand. It's not hard to pretend to feel penned in. All he has to do is think about the literal hellhole beneath them, the towers shuddering above. In fact, he has to force himself to stop. ] If I do, it should go to someone who appreciates it. You know? Not some...

[ He shakes his head as if at a loss for words. Batthour is more than welcome to fill in the blanks. ]

[blackscales]

"Whisked away?" Wrathion echoes, curious. It could, of course, be what they imply. Yet all the same, it feels as if more is going on here. Why would a consort go riding out into danger, potentially into the middle of an undead army?

"If she had so much favour, why would she flee?"

The soldiers exchange an uncomfortable look, shake their heads. Wrathion hums in discontent, fingers tapping uncomfortably against his arm. There's something more here, if only he could find it.

[makemeasong]

So that's it, you're done helping? You've decided no one gets anything else?

[ She's a short fuse on little sleep and paltry food portions. suffering is not something she means to sit back and watch, no matter how futile. ]

I'm sitting down for a little while and then I'm going back to help with whatever a person in need asks. What are you doing anyway? Fighting, I'm sure.

[makemeasong]

[ Clara's ducked just behind a crate of supplies behind Caitlyn, and within a few seconds, she's visible again. It looks as though she's casually strolling on the scene and stands next to Caitlyn but addresses the soldier.

You havin' a fit, mate?.

Grumbling, he seems to realize he looks foolish, and Clara tugs at Caitlyn so they can be on their way. Once they're out of earshot, she laughs, clapping a hand over her mouth. ]

Did you like my invisible trick?

[clavesregni]

[Caitlyn cautiously steps after Bucky, peering into the hole and raising the rifle again in case some sort of horrible demon springs out at them.]

Are you from Alem? Or are you traveling with the Merchant?

[She doesn't recognize him, but she knows they picked up a few new people since leaving the inn. And she's asking more out of curiosity than because it will influence her opinion of him.]

[downswing]

( He turns, as if she has finally grown the knuckles to fill a gauntlet and slap it round across his cheek. As if the ache of her anger bruises him.

He has faced this before, found Wei Ying and his atrocities and known himself lacking in the spirit to alleviate evil. Since, Hanguang-Jun, seeker of chaos.

Since, a face pale and morose, begrudging exorcist of transgression — yet minimally efficient against simple, petty, human wrongs. Wei Ying, who protects ghosts from the wretchedness of men. Lan Wangji, who only sees danger to people from the vast undeath beyond.

Now, it suffocates him. )

They speak of murders in the Wards. A reaper. We hunt him.

[downswing]

( Here, he fumbles, staggers, chases his words. Starts to move them again, deeper into the nest of the mines, hand searching the walls for further snags of cloth or residual evidence of another creature, in passing.

He murmurs: )

You spy footsteps? ( Surely, if other humans crossed these grounds, there must be further proof of their presence beyond ruptured cloth. As for the Reaper — )

Killings in the wards. Five in three months. Men, young. No ties. No wounding. Only white strings upon each of their hands.

[jatharin]

( He all but coos or purrs or reduces himself to a state of utter, jewel-born contentment. How it shines, catches the light, the depth of colour, the sheer size of the sample.

Truly, the gem appears to sing to Batthour's heart in ways he demonstrates immediately: )

...yes. Yes, this one's friend. This one's prince. Batthour knows. He understands. And he will pay an honest price for it, of course. For this beauty, Batthour would not presume to cheat you.

[blackscales]

He offers a noncommittal hum in response, keeping Anduin moving.

"You stay true to yourself," he allows.

If Anduin had reached a point where he had given up on helping people, it would be a bad sign. A sign that the pressure of their situation had begun to do irreparable damage. Wrathion would, of course, prefer that the priest allowed more space for himself to recover rather than driving himself this hard -- but he's under no delusion that there's any world where he stops trying for healthy reasons.

[blackscales]

[ This is a non-answer, and Wrathion isn't certain if that is because Haiva declines to reveal more or if there simply isn't more. If he's unaware of any pattern, perhaps there isn't one.

Though Wrathion mislikes randomness, personally. Still, the steer is interesting. He had been planning to ask that, to carefully approach, but if Haiva wishes to bring it up then that works too. ]

I have seen a... divide, in support.

[ Careful wording. He's seen people brawling, but no doubt Haiva is aware of that. ]

Your uncle was regent, as I understand it. Does he support Deimar too?

[ Wrathion hasn't had that impression, but he keeps his tone mild. Better to hear what Haiva thinks. ]

[growlies]

This is probably not the time to talk about how she can see auras. Granted, there's never really a good time for that, but especially not following a battle like this one, especially not when there are other people around. She can reach out later privately probably, maybe. It's the one aura, but not only one but one... that has her so distracted.

She gives a nod at his explanation, glancing toward the window. "Having a purpose is... important," Red says softly, almost wistfully. It's been escaping her purpose, escaping the Underworld that is sometimes... difficult. Floundering around trying to find her own purpose is much more difficult than following the one given to her by Hades. "...but yeah, by your description alone she does seem very different and different from the dragons in Serthica even if I guess the undead asshole who is... controlling her might be giving her some type of purpose." Her nose wrinkles. "Who... gave those dragons purpose where you're from?"