Carter sat silently watching over horizon, from his platform. With a few rotten planks and some rope, he had somehow managed to construct it. Weird, he had never learned how to make a shelter during training, but here he was now. Overlooking the mines, he could see several Drouls wandering about. Good. He wanted nothing to do with them, anyways.

He turned back to his fortress. A masterpiece. He managed to just barely fit his tent onto the platform, which was pretty sturdy for what it was. Rails had been set up around the edges of the platform, using up the majority of his stockpile of rope. Really, the only thing he disliked about his vantage point was the horrible odor the planks gave off. Well, the whole field smelled bad, actually.

Looking upwards, Carter was dismayed to see rain clouds forming overhead.

"No more sightseeing for me, I guess." He stood up from the ground, and headed back into his tent.

"You! Behind that rock! Get out and show yourself!" Maple barked, his hand still clenched in the pommel of his weapon.

"Buy something, anything!"

Alice said, avdertising her wares.

"We've got bolts to reinforce weapons, sparkplugs and gears for your mechines. Salts and fabric for trade"

She said, unraveling her cloth pack of items. Beta camp was stirring with people preparing for the oncoming storm.

"Don't leave an old woman alone in the rain... please, help me."

She said, holding herself. She managed to conceal her smile as a man heard her plight and erected his tent beside her. With it's rain tarp large enough for her to stay under, She had found a place to sleep tonight.

"Thank you kindly..."

The store could remain open until nighttime, hopefully the storm would be over by morning. "Stock" was getting rather low, she'd have to venture out to find more commodities amoungst the ruins soon.

Aaron, more commonly referred to by soldiers as Reaper 426, scrounged around the plains, the sun's blood crimson color starting to burrow beneath the ground. The storm clouds above him dropped the slightest drizzle as he spotted a single Droul. The monster had come out of its den earlier than its kin, but that was good. He could eliminate the solitary Droul, bottle its spit into another vial*, and move away from the area where the Droul den was to bed down for the night.
Aaron grasped Silverslicer harshly in his hand, getting ready for battle. He jumped out of hiding and cleaved at the Droul, slashing off its left arm.
The Droul hissed in rage, spitting a montage of deadly poison at Aaron. Aaron dodged, and performed a quick shield bash, smashing the Droul's other arm. It let out a shrill cry of pure anger now, violently spitting poison and biting at Aaron. But Aaron was all too used to that. Heck, when he had been swarm........ better not to mention that. Out of sheer pity, Aaron sliced the Droul's head off and crunched it underfoot. He knelt down, surveying the ground for the poison. Aaron quickly swept his vial through the pond of poison, and capped it.

*Aaron bottles Droul spit into vials as both a deadly poison and a weapon. Though it is hard to obtain Droul spit without being bitten, its spit also can be very valuable.

Fen stalked through the stark trees, drifting amongst the ruins of Cradle. A clearing opened up around her abruptly, no more than a metre across. The familiar tree loomed to the side, its large trunk facing the east. Striding her way across confidently, she seated herself beneath its barren branches.

Her bag hung limp across her lap, devoid of any sustenance. A small sigh escaped her cracked lips. She needed food again.

Where are you?

Pushing herself up, she vanished amidst the trees as the sky darkened overhead, humidity rising.

Camp Alpha, 0615, 05/07/14

The violet night sky blushed and sparkled as the dawn broke upon the new day. The golden sun, young and yawning from its slumber, licked the hilltops and gazed across the land to watch the earth in all her splendor. Beautiful golden rays peeked through a little gray tent, gently poking and prodding at the sleeping woman inside to wake her up. Disturbed from her dreams, Penelope sat up to greet the morning, groaning sadly as she noted the hour of her awakening.

Crud. I was sleeping so well, too. She sat up and brushed her wild morning hair through her fingers. She picked through her supplies and found a simple metal mirror, through which she gazed to see what, exactly, her head looked like.

Followed by a horrified shriek.

"My hair! How did my braids come out!?" she cried to herself, quickly wading through her gear to find her hairbrush. The next few minutes were spent yelping and crying as her brush found and pulled out all the knots from her hair. Understandably, her disposition was less than sunny when she finally stumbled out of the tent.

Carter saw a knight in the distance. Tattered armor. Dark green Chapeau. He hadn't seen him before. A knight from the other camp? Someone lost? He stared for a few moments. The chances of him being infected were pretty high. It would be better for him to avoid the tattered man. Turning his back to the knight, Carter walked in large strides, hoping to be far away when the possible threat entered camp.

Let's just find something to repair my armor...

"Um, er, okay. Just don't bother me and I won't bother you."

Maple hastily shoved his saber back in its sheath and walked off, constantly peering behind him.

Looking back at where the first knight was, Carter was horrified to find another wandering towards the Camp. Was a horde of these newly-made Drouls coming? He quickened his pace.

To his side, he spotted a rather old looking woman, with a setup of bolts and spark plugs with teared wiring. Probably found in an equipment dump. Oh! And some fabric. Lovely. Carter approached the woman. Her face seemed hard to deny. Probably wouldn't end up in his favor in the end, but oh well.

"Might I ask, how much for the fabrics?"

It wasn't long before the delightfully sunny day became overcast with dark, heavy clouds that looked as if they were ready to burst open with rainy, watery goodness. Except they didn't feel so good when they actually did burst. The rain was bitterly cold and dropped punishingly upon the ground like a spray of bullets. Penelope closed her eyes and wrapped herself in her winter coat, enjoying for a moment its relaxing warmth and protection before venturing out again.

Today, those blasted researchers had her collecting zombie spit. And they had the nerve to ask for a gallon of it! Didn't they know how impossibly dangerous it was to collect even a milliliter of the stuff? Noooooo, of course they didn't. They got to sit pretty in their pretty little dens making pretty toys for their pretty little boys. Pretty lame, if you asked me. Couldn't be helped, though. She ventured past the camp gates, making sure that her weapons were locked and loaded, and stepped out into the wilderness beyond.

Minutes became hours as she trudged onward into the valley. Her feet squelched and squealed with annoying rhythm as she slogged through deep, water-logged mud pools. Her eyes were cloudy and irritated from wiping the acid rain out of them on her sleeve, and more than a few times she contemplated attempting to walk with her eyes closed.

Then she spotted something vaguely humanoid in the distance. Thinking she must have been seeing things, she wiped her eyes again and moved closer. Sure enough, there was a humanoid, sitting beside a large rock in a meager attempt to find shelter from the punishing weather. "HELLO?" she shouted, keeping her hand on the hilt of her sword just in case things went awry.

{{She's calling to Kuuya.}}

Counting out the worn fabric into satcks of three, Alice bound each bundle with a band , before tying a smal string around them all. After which, she places the bundle in front of her and slides the ration cards out of sight,

"Thank you much, and please, do come again."

She said with a hidden smile

Kuuya had her arms wrapped underneath her legs, as she leaned against the rock.
"HELLO?" A voice shouted nearby. Kuuya looked up, and her figure flickered.
"Ah- u-uhm, Hello!" Kuuya stammered.
'Oh, Finally, A person!'
"Who might you be? I-It'd be nice if you could take me along with you!" Kuuya blurted out, before thinking about her sentence, and how weird it might sound. She flickered twice, Before her projection started to fade.
"Please!"

Despite her efforts, Fen couldn't find a trader anywhere. Frowning, she trod back to the gate, only to realize she had walked the wrong way.

Grunting, she spun around and bumped into a Knight with heavily patched mail mumbling aloud. His size caused her to falter, nearly falling over.

The ragged cloak covering the majority of Vatarian's shadowy frame shifts and flaps in the breeze, exposing the graceful curve of a Fallen helm and the shimmering glare of a Dread Seal. A Divine Avenger sits diagonally across his back, the final third of its blade broken away, the golden runes along its length pulsing dimly.

A Droul rises from the ground in front of his feet, hissing malignantly and opening its mouth to loose a rattling breath laden with caustic green gas. The sword whips out and punches through the Droul's open maw, severing its spine and exiting out the back of its throat in a shower of green ickor.

Vatarian twists and jerks to the side, beheading the monster and tromping over its corpse before it even finishes falling. The wastelands streth out behind him and ahead of him perhaps a hundred yards distance is a high set of gates, dingy and weathered, but imposing.

Almost like Spiral HQ used to be. Vatarian's imposing black and luminescent purple frame would be clearly visible to anyone watching for some distance.

Vatarian reaches the gate to find no guard to glare with mingled suspicion and fear from the gate, no guard to question him despite the fact that he shows up once or twice a week.

That's suspicious.

The big Vanguard slips in quietly through the gates, peering about as he enters.

Nothing seems off. Vatarian moves through the camp at a slow, deliberate pace, eyeing its occupants.

Several of the other knights cringe out of his path, ducking their heads to avoid meeting the violet glare of the Dread Seal blocking his eyes and the ruined right third of his face.

Fen kept her head down, mumbling brusquely.

"N-No, I'm fine." But as she turned away, a new arrival appeared at the gates, hollering out his presence.

Aaron turned around, looking into the stranger's eyes. "My name is Aaron Caltamir of the Swarm, you miserable man. My title is much higher than yours, I assure you," he said, seeing a Vanguard's crest on the man's rugged armor. Aaron's turned his eyes into persuasion-mode again. "Who are you?" he said calmly.

The shorter knight turned away, as if trying to avoid the question. There was a chance that she was hiding something from him. Could she have snuck into the camp? Carter thought back to the two wandering knights outside of camp. No, she didn't seem like one of them. But he couldn't be sure. Was she infected, by some chance? He certainly couldn't deny this possibility, as no one he had ever seen was immune to the disease.

He would attempt to limit contact with this particular woman then, he decided. Looking over to where the shorter knight had turned to, Carter noticed another knight that stood out from the crowd. That was probably the other wanderer. Deciding without proper evidence, Carter rushed past the girl, back towards his platform. He would be safe from these infection-spreaders.

Aaron stared darkly at the stranger and the girl. He laughed a dismissive chuckle. "You wish to duel with Swarm, do you?" He taunted. "Here's a little of MY power...." Aaron said, raising his sword to the air. A darkness engulfed Aaron, instantly teleporting him behind the stranger's back. With a unnaturally swift kick, he sent the man out from under his feet and brought a sword to his neck. "Now, I ask once more, who are you?" Aaron said, no longer using his eyes as a power. Aaron was completely engulfed with darkness, his image frightening some of the campers, who then scattered.

Fen stood silently, remaining hidden amongst the battle, eyes searching and hand resting on her Cutter. She needed to escape, but something drove her to wait.

Then one of them was engulfed in shadow. Like a flame of void, the darkness writhed outwards obscenely. Her eyes steeled, and she stepped back with the fleeing crowd. This is not my fight.

Aaron looks at the oncoming light dismissively, overwhelming it with darkness. "You have earned my respect, stranger." he said. "Now it's time to stop fighting." He raised his Defender in case there were any other sudden attack movements.

Aaron looked at the man and and laughed. "Now what gave you the idea an ex-swarm was evil?" He asked, lowering his Defender. "I'm just as righteous as you, whoever you may be. Surely you know who the Caltamirs are?"
He waited for an answer.

Maple frowned, for the fight had ended and his only source of legitimate entertainment had been diminished. "Well, back to priorities..." Maple solemnly mumbled. He looked up at the sky and saw it turning dark. It looked like he would be here tonight, so now he needed some shelter and supplies. He looked at a hysterical looking old lady whom had also been watching the fight and saw the emblem on her clothes saying "Beta Camp Trader". "Ho, trader." Maple called out to the lady.