The world warps and turns as Wadi's confirmation is sounded. The people around the group are talking, but their voices sound muted. Only one last warning from the general pierces through, "I'm sending a platoon to support you. They will maintain an overwatch over the Field of Angels so you can get in. Be quick, if you can. You have one week after you reach the field to return to the Field of Angels. More than that, we unfortunately will have to pull back the overwatch and you will be on your own. Good luck."

The scene around the group turns and winds. Before the scene completely changes, Inge catches the eye of the general. The general gives her a smirk and a nod. Yes, a Helstrom will charge ahead feet first into the worst of hell. 

The group is blind and deaf for a short moment. It is quite a strange sensation to be deprived of senses. For a moment, panic rises before it is smothered by determination. A few heartbeats pass before the world warps again.

When the group comes to, the scene around them has changed. A campfire is lit in the middle of a small temporary encampment. The sun is barely peeking out over the horizon, casting its first light over a barren and dusty landscape. This is the line beyond the Crata line, the land of the Naphil. Craters from what might be dried-up lakes dot around the landscape. In fact, it seems the encampment was made within one such basin the previous night. There doesn't appear to be any vegetation as far as the eyes can see. The air smells dry and reeks of decay, probably a leftover stench of the ghouls that like to roam the area. The weather is strangely chilly, but not in the way that winter's air seeps into the bone, but in the way that clenches the heart from fear of the unknown. 

"No problem overnight, it seems," an elderly elf with dusky skin and glistening white hair says as he comes out of his tent. The name Captain Ismet of Clan Nightshade comes to mind. "We can continue the last leg of our journey to the Field of Angels in an hour. Let's give the other soldiers some more time to rest. They will need it for the week ahead."

Milo looks back and Myrla. "Just as I thought. Prana has created this for something important. And so it is the important parts we see. A tiring but uneventful journey is nothing worth witnessing."

Myrla takes in the new surroundings, her mind racing to process the recent events. She acknowledges Milo with a nod, his prediction having come true in a disorienting yet fascinating manner. "You were right, Milo," Myrla says, her voice tinged with a mix of awe and contemplation. "Prana is guiding us through these significant moments, almost like a storyteller highlighting the crucial parts of an epic tale. This journey isn't just about reaching our destination; it's about understanding the past that shaped our world." She looks around at the barren, decayed landscape, the chill in the air adding to the weight of the moment. "These lands are filled with echoes of battles and uncertainties. Magic, once a powerful force, seems to have faded from our present, but here, it courses through everything, or so we are told. The past was tumultuous, and the presence of creatures we deem evil suggests that the struggle between good and evil was relentless."

Myrla's gaze shifts to the horizon, where the first light of dawn begins to dispel the shadows. "It's clear that the world didn't end, though. The forces of good must have prevailed or at least held their ground for our world to exist as it does now. Our present might seem far removed from these times, but there's a thread connecting us to this era. Helstrom and Dawnbringer are names that evidence that." She wonders aloud, "What is it that Prana wants us to learn? We've seen battles, magic, and the resilience of those who fought. Perhaps it's a lesson in perseverance or a reminder of the sacrifices made to secure the future. Whatever it is, we need to be ready to face it and understand its significance." Myrla's eyes meet those of her companions, finding strength in their presence. "This journey is about more than just rescuing the commander. It's about uncovering the truths that have been buried in time. Let's make sure we honor the past by learning from it and carrying those lessons forward."

Milo sits in thought before looking up. "You know, I find it too much of a coincidence that a descendant of Helstrom and Dawnbringer, two of the main forces in this fight happened to enter the Gauntlet Monument. So many tried, so many never returned. But when you two entered we are getting somewhere. Which makes me wonder, is it just you two who can trace your ancestry to the leaders of this time, or can we all? Are we tied by destiny, or just luck? I am sure the answers to this will come. Maybe the answers to who we are is what Prana is really trying to show us?" Milo sits down and holds his head. "That was too much thinking for me. My head hurts now"

"Milo, you could be right." Looking to Inge, and then to the group, "I feel we all have a major part to play in this unfolding opera." He starts to sing in his best grand operatic voice and gestures (not too bad 17 for Performance). He laughs, meaning to lighten the mood a bit. "Maybe I should have gone into show business."

Inge, while interested, finds she has little substantive to add to the thoughts of fate and philosophy expressed by her companions.  If the unpleasant sights and scents of their new surroundings affect her, the tall half-elf's face does not betray it.

Though when Myrla mentions that "Perhaps it's a lesson in perseverance," Inge can't help blurting out the first thing that pops into her head.

"I mean, that's the name of the town, after all.  Back in our time, I mean, close to the monument.  Perseverance."

Inge groans as Wadi begins to sing, and rolls her eyes as if to say here we go.  Then is forced to admit, "okay, your voice has gotten better since we were kids camping out in the White Waste, Nature Walker.  Though that's not saying much!"  She pokes him in the chest with a lopsided grin.

Brix sits in quiet contemplation. So much has happened to them. He reaches back into his ancestral memories trying to reconcile what he knows of history with what is happening to them now.

A little bit over an hour later, the soldiers begin to break camp to continue the last leg of their journey. Looking around more carefully, wagons filled with barrels and crates can be seen being dragged by a figure that resembles a cat -- a lion to be exact. Following behind the lion-man is another large figure having bull-like facial features and a pair of large curling horns on his head. The soldiers appear to have prepared themselves for a long journey. There must have been weeks of provision on the wagons for everyone. 

As the march begins again, the elderly elf, Captain Ismet, walks close to the group and asks, "Are you sure you are ready for this?" His face scrunches into a worried frown. "I am not questioning your bravery or skill, because I am sure you are capable. You have proven yourself during the last skirmish. Still, you are young yet and this will be your first official mission. There is no shame in bailing if you feel this will be too dangerous for you. Being near the Field of Angels is dangerous enough. Going through it... you will be on your own without any backup."

Brix stands up. 

"For us there is no other path. Whatever our fate may be we must face it. So I for one, am going. What do we know? Do we have maps? What knowledge do we have that will give us advantage?

Wadi, brining up Produce Flame in his hands and then snuffing it out. "Yes. We are ready. Right?" as he looks each of his party, he hopes to never see one of them, especially Inge, fall.

Myrla adjusts her pack, making sure to take a few extra rations and extra water. She steps forward, her voice steady and resolute. "We are ready, Captain Ismet. This journey is ours to undertake, and we will face whatever comes our way. We've learned much in a short time, and we will continue to learn and adapt. We understand the risks, but we are committed to this mission. Let us move forward and uncover what lies ahead."

The captain ponders for a long moment before shaking his head. 

"Did you notice that there is no naphil in our group?" The captain starts with a question. "One of you -- Myrla, was it? -- would know that they are our fastest scout. Yet, we don't have them here with us. That is deliberate. The naphil despises the Field of Angels while also deeming it a sacred and forbidden place. That place... there is a lot of pain connected to it. It is the place where the naphil declared that they will not follow their Archon's direction to side with the enemy. The punishment that Overseer Dydre brought was incredibly devastating. Thousands of naphil were transformed into something abominable that day by the Overseer's fell power. They became... well, it is difficult to put into words what they've become. It is better to see them with your own eyes when we get there. Still, the existence of these abominations makes it hard to scout ahead beyond the Field of Angels. Since that day, no one ventured beyond it. It is too dangerous for a small scouting team, and we cannot just walk into enemy territory with a platoon to back up a scouting mission. We have maps, of course, but it is incredibly outdated from decades before the war started."

Inge tries to keep up with what is being said, what is being described about the state of the war, the landscape, and the desecration of an entire race of flying people.  Her head is spinning a little, and her stomach rumbles with hunger.  She steadies herself by touching her Glaive for luck.

"These abominations, you're saying we'll have to wait to see them.  But they do die, yeah?  Any tips on the best way to take them down?"

She thinks, but does not say, and how best to keep my companions safe...

"It is rather unclear," he says with great hesitance. "How do you kill stones? For that matter, how do we know if we can truly kill a creature connected to the very land itself?" He lets the question hang for quite some time before shrugging. 

"You have to understand, the Field of Angels is not a mere location," he continues. "It is like... a fungus? Yes, a petrified, dangerous fungus that can wake at a moment's notice. All we can do is prevent it from directly attacking you. This is why you were not sent on your own when the intel came in. It is also why we need to bring a lot of provisions. The advance scout would have set up a watch over the area to prevent the creature from waking up. We'll be joining them there, relieving them and staying with them until you return or our provisions also run out, after which we will have to return to the camp and leave you to your own devices."

Milo is not happy with the sounds of this. "How do you prevent it waking up? Just in case we need to prevent it when we leave if your provisions have run out?"

Once he has an answer, he is ready to leave. As soon as they are away from the others he says to the party "I want to know who was really in our place here. Clearly someone was, and  I don't think we are taking Prana's place due to her status in the war. Which means that someone else she knew was doing this rescue mission."

"Motion and vibration of a certain intensity wake them, but it also forces them to petrify," the captain explains. "It is the strange nature of their existence. Should you get close enough, they will sense the vibration that your footsteps make and wake. When they do, you have to keep an eye on them at all times. Don't blink. Don't look away. They are petrified when you are looking at them. After some time, they will become dormant but will wake again when you take a step away from them. The key is to slowly move away far enough as you look at them until you are at a far enough distance that you still can see them but they will not sense you when they turn dormant. If you fail to keep an eye on them when they're awake, well, you will be drained of life by them. The magic that turned them into this forces them to crave life force. A torturous existence."

(Oh great. Actual weeping angels, as opposed to the moving statues earlier..... Having seen enough doctor who, the trick is to make them all look at each other and then they are stuck until someone blocks the line of sight)

Brix paces about rubbing his hands through his hair. Stopping suddenly he stabs his finger in the air.

"Ahhh, I think I might have a way to do this safely. We take turns. That's obvious of course, but "how" is the key. One will guide, the rest will rotate stares. One stares while the others close their eyes to rest. When the open eyes need to close they say "CHANGE". The next one in turn opens their eyes and says "OPEN". The first can now close theirs. Repeat. Should keep us from risking blinking and while still having a set of eyes always open. We can tether ourselves to the leader."

Myrla listens intently to the captain's explanation, absorbing every detail about the Field of Angels and the petrified abominations. The description of the naphil's fate is particularly harrowing, and she feels a sense of dread settle in her stomach. When Brix proposes his plan, Myrla pauses in her preparation and looks up. His idea is practical and could indeed be their best chance of navigating the Field of Angels safely. She nods in agreement, appreciating the thoughtfulness of his strategy.

"That's a solid plan, Brix," Myrla says, her voice steady. "Rotating our watch and ensuring at least one set of eyes is always on them could be the key to getting through this." She adjusts her pack, ensuring she has extra rations and water, and tightens the straps. "We'll need to be disciplined and communicate clearly. No room for mistakes." She looks around at her companions, feeling a mixture of determination and anxiety. "This mission is more dangerous than any we've faced before, but we can do this. We have to." Myrla takes a deep breath, her resolve hardening. "Let's get moving and make sure we're prepared for whatever comes our way." With her pack ready and her mind focused, Myrla steps forward, prepared to go with her team into the unknown.

{{@Swift, close, but not yet. This one I based more on the Warden from Minecraft. It's still early. Don't worry though, the real thing is still coming in the future. That's a promise. *cackling maniacally*}}

The group walks for quite some time. There is no sign of the world warping to fast forward again. This time, the group is treated to the entire devastation caused by the war. There is a feeling of familiarity with the area. The way the coarse dirt and sand rub the skin feels strangely familiar. 

The captain calls for a much slower pace when the ground starts to change colour. Instead of the barren grey-brown dirt, the terrain slowly turns to bleached white. The consistency of the ground also makes it quite difficult for the wagon to move slowly. Too slow and the wagon starts to sink a bit in the sandy and softened ground. 

Casting a wide gaze forward, a small encampment can be seen a few hundred feet ahead, a dark-coloured blot on the brilliantly glinting white landscape ahead. They seem to be slowly moving back based on the long trail they left behind, away from a large grey mass partially hidden by the white ground a few hundred feet ahead of them. From this distance, the grey mass seems to form the shape of a petrified and partially melted humanoid. It is akin to a field of ancient statues that one could find in the ruins of an ancient temple.

"That's the advance scout," the captain comments. "It seems they are making good progress making some distance." The captain turns toward the group and points at the large grey mass. "And that is the Field of Angels. Kashran was taken beyond that by the ghouls based on the report." 

"The general has briefed me on the plan," the captain adds. "We are to make a forward base around where the advance scout currently is and keep an eye on the field. That way you can move unhindered without fear of being attacked. Still, you ought to be careful with where you step and what you step on. This sandy ground makes a lot of noise and there is a chance that stragglers can hide from our sight and be primed to attack you when you get deeper into the field."