Shiva pushes her way between trees, slowly forcing her way into what little woods border the farmlands.  Up ahead, she thinks that she's caught a glimpse of green skin dashing between the trees and she redoubles her efforts, pushing branch and brush aside as she works her way deeper into undergrowth. A little more time passes and it occurs to Shiva that the copse seems far larger than it looked from the outside and far too verdant for the time of year...

It doesn't take Shiva long to recognize her new surroundings, and she shakes her head and chuckles at her ability to wind up in these situations. Looking about, she searches for the wood nymph that led her here and calls for them. "Hello? This isn't my first time here. I was hoping to get laid, but I'd settle for not being stuck here forever?"

Chittering giggles echo amongst the branches above Shiva's head.

"Perhaps you can only have one," a deeper voice purrs from several feet ahead of her.

Shiva squints, trying to see through the dense tangle of branches and greenery, but she is unable to see anything beyond a skittering movement that shifts out of sight. "...I don't think you'd want me around for that long. I've been known to cause all manner of problems. And there's always the danger of falling in lo-"

She's cut short as a pain registers at the back of her neck. She then feels her legs go to jello, a smile of mindless joy spreading across her face as her body is wrapped in calm and euphoria. But just as quickly as it came, the sensation fades to nothing, and she straightens herself. "Well that was rude. I don't bed women who poison me." 

Shiva turns to see a bizarre creature with the body and legs of a pale green spider, but the torso and arms of a woman where the spider's head should be. It rears up and hisses at her, bearing arachnoid fangs before scuttling away into the foliage.

Shiva's eyes go wide at the sight of the entity as it hisses and retreats further into the forest. "Um...you have beautiful hair!" Turning on her heels, Shiva makes her way back towards camp on the path she came from. 

Slowly becoming more accustomed to movement through the Fey, Shiva finds her way out with relative ease. Slipping out of the grove where she'd entered, she breathes a sigh of relief upon rejoining her caravan and laying down for the night. 

As the group makes way through the rolling country side, it’s not long before the urge for diversion comes to both Caio and Shiva again. ”What do you say we try something a little different this time?” Instead of grabbing his sword as they begin to set out from camp, Caio grabs his bow and arrows.

After a calm and quiet day of travel, Shiva looks to her friend quizzically as he takes up his bow. "Sure, but bows have never been my preferred method. I haven't shot more than a dozen arrows in my life."

Caio smirks. ”Oh no dear, I’ll be shooting the arrows. You’ll be dodging them. It’s been a while since I’ve had a moving target, and I don’t believe you have much experience in dealing with archers, do you?”

Her eyebrows arch in surprise. "I can't say that I do. You are to hunt me then, Caio?" Though her tone is light, there is the hint of a challenge laid within.

He shrugs nonchalantly. ”It sounds fun, right?” The ranger leads the pair towards a loose copse of trees situated in a small, rocky dell that Ghoul has scoped out. ”Should we have some sort of objective to this game?”

Shiva looks out across the terrain the inquisitor has chosen and shrugs in return. "Sounds fun enough. How about this, if you can't catch me before the sun sets, then I win. If you catch me before that, then you win. Agreed?"

Caio nods. ”Very well. I feel that leaves me with the advantage, so I’ll give you the head start.” As they near the dell, Caio finds a rock and takes a seat. ”I’ll count to ten.” He says, mostly joking, though he does close his eyes.

Shiva smiles as she lowers herself to the ground. As Caio begins to count, she wills her abominable power to shape her body into the form she needed. She conjures sensations of hunting and being hunted, of blood between her teeth and a back slick with sweat. Of a primal urge to pursue one's prey and to preserve her own life for another day in the face of entities greater than herself. Without pain, the skin and bone of her ankles begins to stretch, bending and snapping into new positions as she rises onto toes that extend far beyond their natural length, growing muscular as black talons emerge from the nail beds. The upper part of her legs grow wide with tensing musculature, and she finds that she must rebalance herself on legs that bend in two distinct places. Taking a moment to look back at the elf, she sprints into the trees with inhuman speed.

Caio listens to the crash of foliage and spray of loose stones as Shiva charges into the scrubby treeline. Several slow, deep breaths later he stands and begins to follow. There is no effort needed in tracking the demon, her brutish trail practically gleams in the ranger’s periphery. But this is not a test of stealth for her, it is a test of speed. The real challenge won’t begin until he engages. Deep shadows cut across the dell from the afternoon sun, and without a sound Caio melts up and out of one such pool, appearing on top of a boulder fifteen or so feet from Shiva with an arrow notched. ”Nice legs.” he comments before letting the arrow fly.

The sound of Caio's voice alerts her just in time to step back and narrowly avoid the arrow, which plants itself into the dirt in front of Shiva's foot. A delirious, adrenaline-filled laugh fills the air, and she turns towards the arrows source. "My eyes are up here!" With that, she's off again, bounding into the shadows, but this time she makes an effort to be quiet and avoid disturbing the stone and vegetation on her path. Moving more carefully, her footfalls produce a nearly imperceptible sound as she ducks and weaves to obfuscate herself.

This time Caio doesn’t intend to give Shiva a chance to hide, and as she springs forward the elf takes oof in pursuit. His lithe form flies from rock to rock to overturned tree, but Shiva’s enhanced speed easily outpaces him. Though she is being quieter this time, Caio still doesn’t need to track her. Having surveyed the terrain from above, he knows that she will run into the edge of the dell and be forced to turn or spend time scrambling up rocks. So he cuts right and ascends up into the trees as he does so. Some moments later he appears right in front of her path, perched on a branch thirty feet off the ground. ”That was almost a challenge.” He fires again, another clear shot.

All goes silent as she turns and neither sees nor hears her pursuer. Just as she begins to slow her breathing, Caio appears in the branches above her. She scrambles back with a panicked curse as he releases another arrow and, out of sheer instinct, jumps to avoid the shot. Her powerful legs launch her high up into the branches, where she clumsily manages to land on one sitting twenty feet off the ground. She pauses in surprise at this feat, marveling at just how much she's capable of. Then dread washes over her, realizing that this moment of hesitation means death in a hunt, and she looks back up to where she'd seen Caio.

Shiva turns only to watch as an arrow materializes inches from her nose, Caio appearing behind it wreathed in shadowy wisps. He tuts at her, then smiles. Shiva gets the sense that these sparring sessions are probably good for the brooding elf’s mental health, but in the moment the more pressing realization is that she’s lost their little game. Caio turns to see the orange light of dusk blazing between the branches. ”Disappointingly short, but I think that means we have time for a best two out of three.”

She flinches at the arrowhead, then narrows her eyes at her friend with a smile. "I got distracted. I bet you won't catch me again." The game is reset two more times, as Shiva refuses to admit total defeat until she flops onto the ground in a heap of exhaustion. The levity in the shadar-kai's mood throughout their game was not lost on her, and she is glad to bring such happiness to him in these uncertain times. Darkness quickly overcoming the area, she sits up and wipes the sweat from her brow. "You are a hunter unparalleled, Caio. And thank you, this was indeed a good bit of fun." She dismisses her transformation, and her legs retake their normal shape. "But you're gonna have to do this with Alaris next time, my whole damn body is going to be sore tomorrow."

The route north-east is the first paved road that the travellers have seen since Piotrgrad, and their horses make good time on the well maintained route. By noon on the second day of travel the farmland and surrounding countryside begin to grow noticeably more densely populated. The following morning marks the final day of the Septem Mortale's journey together with Brother Ludomir and the priors of Volkfelder order. By the time that the moon has set on the eastern horizon, the silhouette of Littlewood's western city can already be made out in the distance.

Paragon.

The great, walled city is known amongst the littlefolk as the linchpin of the west and is a vaunted symbol of the republic's independence; proof that they can defend and hold their own territory. Despite the bastion's pint-sized inhabitants, the gates are clearly built to accommodate trade with larger neighbours and it seems that even Alaris and Caio will be able to pass through without stooping. Inside, the streets are abuzz with halflings, gnomes and the occasional trading partners of all shapes and sizes. Brother Ludomir begins to guide the carriage towards the local temple of his order.

The grounds owned by the Volkfelder order in Paragon are obviously smaller than those in Piotrgrad, but no less affluent. Several servants come hurrying out of the large pointed arch that house's the temple's double doors to help unload the relic and bring the priors inside to rest and recuperate from their long journey. An aged halfling comes hobbling out after the flurry of activity, leaning heavily on a knobby wooden cane.

"Ludomir!" She greets the priest with enthusiasm, shuffling over towards the carriage. "Get down here!" The woman insists, reaching up to embrace him.

"Seraphina!" Ludomir calls in return, climbing down from the driver's seat and crouching to wrap his arms around the little old lady. "I've missed you."

"We weren't sure that you'd make it," Seraphina teases with a smile.

"Well, you can thank our protectors for that!" He notes with a rich laugh, beckoning to the four riders to dismount and come hither. More servants quickly hurry forth to take the horses to be stabled and unload the travellers' luggage. "Seraphina, meet Bogatyr Alaris Forien, Lady Astrid Silverscar, Caio Cypherien and Shivala. This is Abbess Seraphina Softsong of Paragon Abbey."

Alaris swings down and pats Zadkiel's neck. "Go with the Lady's servants and don't be too much of a bother..." they whisper with a small smile, before dropping to one knee before Abbess Seraphina and taking her hands in their own. "My apologies that this bogatyr smells of horse and the road, but truly your shrine is a blessing from the Lady after so many days." Alaris kisses the wrinkled hands, and for a moment the cloak of anxiety, weariness, and frustration lifts - the radiance of the aasimar glimmers forth as they hug the diminutive leader.

Rising, the bogatyr continues, "Abbess, these are my friends Ivan and Melina, their daughter Lena and their son Piotr. They have traveled with us from Piotrgrad to reunite with family here in Paragon. Young Piotr and I have come to an agreement - he will display humility and determination and respect in his father's work for one year, and then perhaps the Lady will find a place for him among the Volkfelder?"

"As every Bogatyr should," Seraphina notes with a smirk, before turning her attention to the pilgrims who have made the journey with the relic. "Come here, boy," she instructs Piotr in a voice that brokers no argument, prompting the young man to shuffle forth from amongst his family. At first he averts his gaze, but eventually his eyes rise to meet the abbess's unwavering stare.

"Perhaps," she agrees, still maintaining eye contact with Piotr. "Our Lady is as infinite in her grace as she is unknowable. How long will your family remain in Paragon for, Ivan?"

"Why perhaps a month, reverend mother," Ivan quickly replies. "Until we can find safe passage home to Piotrgrad."

"So, Piotr's future in the Volkfelder order is the hands of that meathead Bronislaw." Seraphina barks a mirthless laugh and briefly glances across the yard at Ludomir. "May the lady bless you with good fortune, Piotr... and a strong arm. Perhaps, working with your father will be more worthwhile than you expected."

Piotr responds to the embarrassment of being talked about by averting his gaze once more and hurriedly stepping back to stand amongst his family.

"Y- y- yes, reverend mother. Thank you, reverend mother," he stammers in answer.

Shiva waves casually to the Abbess as Brother Ludomir introduces the group. The pleasantries and religious discussion that follow are entirely unable to hold the tiefling's attention, and she thinks over the route that the caravan had taken through Paragon to arrive here.

The establishments that housed her favorite sort of comfort looked to come up tragically short of her preferred company, and she makes a mental note to ask around a bit for companionship closer to her stature. "Did you want to look for a place to buy an instrument like you were talking about a few days ago?"  "Yes! Thank you Shiva, I think I saw an instrument shop not long after that brothel....Something's Instruments or something of the like.."  "Arturo's Acoustics. Very cute name."  "That was it. Thanks, darling."

Checking back in to the religious conversation and noticing that there's been a lull, she steps up beside the bogatyr and links arms with them. "Well, this has been lovely, but I have some business to attend to. I'll need Ari in case someone decides that I'm responsible for stealing away with their baby in the night and bring out the pitchforks. Bonne journée." 

Shiva then pulls the aasimar away from the congregation and in the direction of the music shop.

As Alaris and Shiva walk the streets of Paragon, the infectious energy makes the Aasimar smile, but the rapid-fire chatter in Littlun makes them very glad they remembered to talk to the Abbess about a translator before leaving to shop.

The multitude of little folk glance at the odd couple as they pass with their escort, and more than a few do a double-take. The powerfully-built blue-hued warrior woman and the pale and lean knight draw looks of curiosity and chatter as they pass.

"Ho, Barnaby - what are they saying about us?" Alaris asks with a grin.

"Oh, ho, Sir Knight!" Barnaby replies with verve, puffing up his chest as he struts down the broad street flanked by Alaris and Shiva. "Well, I would love to say that you are the talk of town, but, at the very least, you are the talk of Lochlan square! Visitors from Piotrgrad are by-and-large not particularly unusual in Paragon, but those of your stature and, ahem, plumage, are few and far between indeed!"

In step with Alaris, Shiva smiles at the overly jovial and mildly ridiculous countenance of Barnaby. "Yes, you'll find that my plumage often draws more than just curious stares. Could you lead us in the direction of Arturo's Acoustics, or ask for directions if you're unfamiliar?" 

"...but of course!" Barnaby tells Shiva with what verges on mild affront. "Did you know that the Arturo family first came to Paragon shortly prior to the turn of the century when Ignacio Arturo relocated his..."

Arturo's Acoustics is a dark little shop on Connaught Avenue and, besides the tinkling of a tiny bell as Alaris and Shiva duck inside, all is still and quiet.

"Javier!" Barnaby calls back between stacks of old drums. Sheet music is spread atop several that are being used as a table. "Tá custaiméirí agat!"

An exclamation of surprise, followed by the loud crashing of tumbling objects, can be heard from deeper inside the shop and a bearded old gnome sticks his head out from between the drums.

"Tá. Tá. Cad is féidir liom a dhéanamh ar do shon?" He begins, but then Barnaby leans in, whispering loudly as he holds one hand up besides his mouth.

"Taneman, Javier. Taneman."

"Ähm, ja. Hallo. Guten Tag," the gnome attempts before rabbiting off a sentence to Barnaby in Littlun.

"This is Javier Arturo. He'd like to know what he can do for you this fine day," the halfling explains.

Shiva looks around the quiet store, unsure of what to make of the space that she expected to be filled with melodies, rhythm, and discussions on the intricacies of what she hopes to fill many idle hours with, perhaps even finding solace in the act of self-expression. Thank you, Barnaby. Guten Tag, Herr Arturo. I'm looking to purchase a string instrument like a lute, would you have such an instrument here?"

Barnaby quickly translates Shiva's request for Arturo.

"Ba mhaith lenár n-áilleacht ghorm anseo giotár, Javier," the halfling explains with a flourish.

The gnome's eyes light up like tiny glistening gems and he takes Shiva by the hand, guiding her through his shop, between shelves of pipes and horns towards a rack on the left wall.

"Ar ndóigh, ar ndóigh. Ar an mbealach seo, a stór," he tells her. "A stór agus beir leat an ceann sin dom, an mbeadh?" Arturo asks, gesturing up at a hollow wooden instrument with six strings stretched over it and along a narrow, fretted neck. The body is decorated with finely detailed patterns that spiral inwards until they are smaller than Shiva can distinguish.

With the context of the situation and the man's gestures, Shiva stares up at the intricate detailing of the instrument. "It's beautiful. May I?" Reaching up, she delicately lifts the guitar from its spot on the wall and brings it down to cradle it in her hands. She continues to look over flourishes of color and design that accent the wood, eventually shifting it to hold as she had seen performers do in so many taverns before this day. 

She brings her hand down over the strings to strum a few times, each of the six notes of the strings ringing out together. In the neutral state of the open strings, the notes do not particularly compliment each other, and Shiva looks back to Arturo. "I've never played before, could you give me a few pointers to practice with?" 

Arturo glances at Barnaby, who repeats the request in Littlun. The old gnome smiles and nods, before reaching for another smaller guitar and strumming the strings, demonstrating a brief melody of d, a and g chords in minor. Arturo smiles again and gestures for Shiva to copy him.