Suddenly aware that the taste is more than a memory, her body leads her away from the group and towards the source of the scent. She maintains more lucidity than last time, however, and speaks dreamily to the others. "Something...this way...blood..."

Alaris cocks their head to the side a bit in curiosity, then looks around in a frantic panic for Grace and Jelci, who are obviously nowhere to be seen. "****," they growl as they follow Shiva towards the blood...

When nobody wakes her from her trance-like state, Shiva begins to wander off into the streets of Mingol Bar, winding north between the buildings.

Alaris stays close, but leans towards Caio to murmur, "She's sensing blood from this far away? That's new."

     Astrid turns from the soldier as Alaris runs off after Shivala. "Oh, no! Not again!" She gives the dwarf an apologetic smile. "Again, thank you for the good news. It will make for a better journey as to continue to Littlewood knowing an army is not following. If there's nothing else, I need to make sure everything is all right with my friend." She nods in the direction the tiefling wandered off.

“As long as she’s not transforming into some abyssal horror.” Caio replies as he falls in step to trail Shiva as well. Ghoul swoops up ahead and a above a short distance.

Shiva ducks left down another street and meanders absently into a smithy, where a dwarven apprentice appears to be binding a cut from an accident while working. The response from the tiefling's abyssal blood intensifies and Shiva can feel her fingers and toes begin to fuse together, while her skin ripples into scales.

Finding herself standing before a bleeding dwarf, she is brusquely brought back to the present as her body begins its transformation. As her demonic essence ignites and attempts to spur further change, she instinctively shifts the momentum of the force within her into a more docile state. There is a second of pushback as it writhes, but the tension dissipates just as quickly and she definitively regains control.

Shiva looks into the face of the injured apprentice as her scales disappear, and she shakes her head sleepily to try to play off her strange actions. "Ugh, damn those watch shifts, I need to get more sleep. Hey there, friend. Was wondering if I could pick up a good longsword here, as well as get rid of these?" She presents the kilij blade, handgonne, and ammunition that she took off the dead janissary. 

"What?" The young dwarf replies, blinking in confusion. "You're not in the watch. They're all dwarven soldiers of Karaz Hirn."

"Excuse me, can I help you?" The apprentice's master interjects, allowing the younger dwarf to scurry off and continue seeing to their injury. The senior dwarf is as burly as the stereotype would suggest, with a strong western Khazak accent and a bushy black beard wound into intricate braids.

"I could forge you a sword, but I have axes, hammers and polearms already made. There's not much call for long blades around these parts. I can put the scrap value of that metal towards it, if you like."

Shiva begins to stutter out a response when the entrance of the Forgemaster saves her from her inability to lie quickly. 

Shiva purses her lips, then shakes her head. "No, thank you. My group and I are moving out soon and I don't think I'll be back soon enough to justify making you do that work. I'll just take the value for these things."

"There's not enough call for Sarameian weapons for them to be worth more than the metal they're made of to me," the Dwarf explains with a shrug. "A collector might be more interested."

"Oh, alright. Do you know of any collectors around?" She smirks to herself at the idea of inviting the attention of a collector. "If not, you can have them for the metal, they're of no real use to me."

"Not in a border fortress like Mingol Bar," the smith tells Shiva with shrug, hefting a crate off of a pallet and carrying it towards the forge. "You'll have better like finding folk like that in the towns and cities. Where are you headed?"

"Huh, alright. We're headed northeast, so I'm sure we'll end up in a town or city sooner or later. Guess I'll hang onto these till then, thank you sir." With that, Shiva turns around and walks out to rejoin her friends. 

Looking obviously embarrassed, she crosses her arms and gives a nervous laugh. "Sorry about that, guess I'm a bit more sensitive to certain things now. I'll do my best to keep it under control. Anyway, we getting a move on?" When they all begin the walk back, Shiva moves up besides Alaris. 

"Hey Ari, could we spar sometime? I'd like to get use to countering a blade with my claws so I don't end up losing a hand while I'm swordless."

Quote from stormchaser6 >>

"What?" The young dwarf replies, blinking in confusion. "You're not in the watch. They're all dwarven soldiers of Karaz Hirn."

"Excuse me, can I help you?" The apprentice's master interjects, allowing the younger dwarf to scurry off and continue seeing to their injury. The senior dwarf is as burly as the stereotype would suggest, with a strong western Khazak accent and a bushy black beard wound into intricate braids.

"I could forge you a sword, but I have axes, hammers and polearms already made. There's not much call for long blades around these parts. I can put the scrap value of that metal towards it, if you like."

As Shiva talks to the Forgemaster, Alaris calls out in a soft voice to the apprentice. "Hold a moment, Prentice. May I see your injury?" The aasimar moves closer before the young dwarf can escape, and Alaris sings a gentle chord in Celestial. A warm glow radiates from the spot where their hand touches the injured fellow, and his wince turns to wonder as the Lady's power replaces the pain with peace.

"Now, don't forget the pain of that mistake - your good master here will not appreciate my interference if it hinders your training. Back to work with you, now."

Alaris listens while Shiva and the Forgemaster talk, then apologizes to the older dwarf as he hefts the crate. "I apologize for interfering in your work, but it is in my nature to alleviate suffering when I can. Hopefully, the young one will learn from his mistake." 

They bow to the master smith, then walk out of the smithy by Shiva's side. "Certainly we can spar on the road - my style will help you get better at getting inside an opponent's reach, where your claws will do better work than their long blades."

The river running through Mingol Bar is a fast-moving torrent this morning, as snow melt from the mountains drives the fortress's water wheels at high speed. In the light of day and under a clear, blue sky, the town seems vibrant, bustling and perhaps even hopeful. Nevertheless, the time has come to continue on the road to Paragon and the carriage with the relic, the priors and the Ivanovich family departs later that morning.

Just fifteen miles north-east of the dwarven town, the rugged tundra gives way to Littlewood's rolling, grassy hills. Over the next few days, the hills gently fade to plains, which become fields and farmland, until the rural trail finally brings the travellers to the border community of Hearthstead. It's late in the afternoon when the village comes into sight, but even from the farms surrounding the settlement halflings can be seen raising a hand or tipping their hat in greeting. The dusty main road through the middle of the village rings with the delighted screams of tiny little children playing.

A chilling reminder that this would have been the first stop for the would-be Sarameian invaders.

In the heart of the village, what looks to be a guest house is proudly signed An Teach Beag.

Alaris gathers themselves after camp is settled. They revel in the perfect balance of the enchanted glaive in their hands. Hope's Edge is four feet of haft, capped with two feet of curved blade. Four elegant serrations mark the back of the blade, and the blade is joined to the haft with a pair of guard points. Another set of points marks the butt of the glaive, and the aasimar carries it in a two-handed grip like a quarterstaff. "Now listen - we don't spar at half-speed. Not yet. If we decide to practice specific movements or routines, we will start that way, but otherwise, no - we go full-speed. Going half-speed is how people get hurt. Plus, the Lady's gifts will heal us both unless we really foul up." They snap the glaive to a vertical position, bow from the waist, then spin it in a rapid 360° before releasing the haft with one hand and making a beckoning gesture. "Show me what you've got."

Shiva marvels at Alaris's technique, and nods as they lay out the parameters for their session. She gives the aasimar a determined grin as they goad her, raising her hands up beside her cheekbones and extending her sharp, blackened claws out from her fingernails. "Coming at you, angel face." She launches herself towards them, attempting to slip in past the business end of Hope's Edge and give a horizontal slash across the chest. Alaris' eyes flash with joy at Shiva's banter, but their face remains focused. As the tiefling charges, the bogatyr shuffles their feet backwards and parries by cracking an end of the glaive against each of her claws. Sidestepping the rush, Alaris plants a booted foot to Shiva's rump and takes advantage of the tiefling's momentum to create space. Shiva stumbles, momentarily struggling to find her balance. But she turns on her heel and swings around to face Alaris as her hands return to their offensive positioning. Settling back into a ready stance, Alaris arches an eyebrow and ask, "What happened?"

Shiva smiles as she reevaluates her approach. "You're much quicker than you look is what happened." Without giving Alaris time to retort, she attacks again, this time feinting to the left before delivering an upward slash with her right. "Am I?" Alaris replies in a calm tone that belies their moment of awe at Shiva's speed and strength. The aasimar shuffles their feet again, their movements minimal and efficient as they give way again before the tiefling's greater bulk. Alaris actually moves towards the feint, knowing it for what it would be, and dips the butt of Hope's Edge to entangle Shiva's legs and send her in a tumbling roll. She finds her feet and leaps back into the fray. For long stretches, the two go at one another hammer and tongs. Alaris presses Shiva relentlessly, slapping her with a free hand, foot, or end of the glaive when she leaves an opening in her defenses. The exchanges sometimes escalate into moments of danger, for Shiva is a proud warrior and grows enraged at the challenge of piercing the bogatyr's trained defenses with her street-honed melee skills. Her rage sends all semblance of discipline out the window, and Alaris smacks and slices her all the more. Shiva's claws find the aasimar's flesh more than once, but never more than a scratch or graze. The anger still flashes in her eyes as the session continues, but her pride -- rather than defeating her -- pushes her to soak up every new maneuver, every word of caution or encouragement.

Remembering the humiliations in their own training, Alaris takes care to improve upon the taunts and quips of their own battlemaster. The first order of business here is to sharpen her reflexes and teach her some concern for defense. Then she must learn to make the demon's power serve her, not the other way around. Shiva's fury sends her into a roaring burst of energy that surges over Alaris, who rolls back on the ground and plants their feet in the tiefling's midsection. Throwing her over, they move with liquid grace back to their feet. The haft of Hope's Edge cracks down between her horns, and the tiefling slumps to the ground, semiconscious. Goddess, the raw potential in her... she can be mightier than Caio and me combined. They reach down and grab Shiva's forearm and the tiefling pulls herself to her feet. "Think on what you have learned this evening. Rest and remember. Tomorrow, let more of the beast loose. We must help you learn how to channel that power with your will."

Breathing heavily, Shiva shakes the stars from her vision and massages the spot where Hope's Edge had brought her down. "I don't know if that's a good idea. I was losing my focus to my anger just now, I'm sorry. I've only ever fought to kill, and it's a hard habit to shake." She stretches her muscular arms outward in a release of tension, then sighs. "Your guard adapts and counters everything I throw at it, it's very impressive. I think I'm starting to understand. I need more than brute force and stamina. Patience and observation..." Her voice trails off as she falls into contemplation, but she rests her head on Alaris's shoulder. Alaris turns their head and kisses Shiva on the cheek, and the Lady's healing energy courses through the tiefling's frame. Shiva gives them a quick pat on the back before walking over to her belongings and laying down, exhausted.

Shivala spends much of the next day's travels thinking about the prior evening's bout. She goes over her strikes and movement, mentally redrawing her technique to accommodate a skilled opponent and a difference in reach. But the encouragement from the bogatyr to embrace the beast worries her, inciting visions of the body of the serpent creature she became. As fading light denotes the coming of night, she approaches Alaris, much more pensive than she'd been the night before. "I'm ready for another session, but I have to be honest with you, Ari. Channeling the demon is a gamble, I could lose control and become gods know what. But the demon, as I've called it, isn't some other thing living inside me, it's an instinctual essence that's always been there. Now that I'm more deeply connected to it, I can influence it, but it feels more like direction than control. We'll just need to be careful..."

Alaris leans on Hope's Edge and listens with care to Shiva's concerns. They think for long moments before responding, "We share a blended essence of being -- that's how Brother Ludomir would say it, anyway," they grin and glance over to where the brothers attempt to cover their curiosity with nonchalance. "What we are, we are, but I know this --" Alaris reaches out and touches a spot in the center of Shiva's chest. "-- I know this heart. Right now, your demon seems to respond to your emotions." Alaris lowers their hand to place the tips of two fingers below the tiefling's diaphragm. "It's responding from here with such power that it overwhelms your heart and your mind. With training, you will learn to move where it feels like it lives, and summon it like I summon my wings. Now - trust me to protect myself and trust Caio and Astrid to protect the others - let's do some work." Alaris steps back into their ready stance and beckons once more with the outstretched hand.

Shiva finds her eyes drift to the brothers as well, who immediately avert their gaze. She looks back to Ari with hope and takes a deep breath. "You make it all sound so easy. But you're right, I've felt what you're talking about, and all this takes is practice. Let's get to it." Walking several paces away, she turns and extends the black claws from her hands as she falls into her fighting stance. Recalling the changes she needed to make, she brings her back leg further behind her, giving her a firmer foundation. She then comes up onto the balls of her feet to allow for more freedom of movement. Here I come, Ari." She approaches the bogatyr, but more cautiously, throwing out three light strikes aimed at their face and torso to test their defenses.

She learns so fast - so much faster than I did  flickers through Alaris' mind before they stop thinking in words - the demands of those dark claws far too urgent and deadly. The aasimar shuffles back, their steps a simple rhythm that retains balance. Parrying the strikes with sharp thrusts from Hope's Edge, Alaris watches for the explosive burst of power they know Shiva will use to close the distance. As Alaris back steps and deflects her strikes, Shiva advances, but does not attack again. She uses the brief pause to watch the divine warrior's footwork, then take a deep breath. Reaching within, she stirs the power of the demon, and she feels it flow forth with the steady ease of her breathing. The world brightens as Shiva's focus crystallizes into unperturbed battle-zen. She can see the choreography in Alaris's steps, where they will lead them, and she gracefully follows the movement. She keeps herself within their space, expectantly waiting for their retaliation. Alaris imitates the maneuvers with which Shiva began the session; three quick thrusts with the blade end of Hope's Edge - head-heart-solar plexus.

Her reaction is instant, ducking and sidestepping in two fluid motions. Spotting an opening, Shiva moves forward with a strike, curling her fingers in and thrusting with her open palm into Alaris's abdomen. The spectators hear a clear thump-crack and Alaris is flying backwards and landing on their ass before they fully realize Shiva had moved. The aasimar coughs and groans as a little blood flies from their lips, before planting Hope's Edge in the turf and pushing themselves to their feet, holding one elbow tightly against their ribs. "I deserved that. Well-struck, Shiva," they say with a sheepish grin. "Now - tell me how you did it." Initially concerned at the sight of blood, Shiva gives a toothy-and fangy-smile when her sparring partner compliments her. Standing up straight, she continues to feel the calm, yet powerful influence of her demonic essence. "Your defenses are solid, so I watched your movements and waited till you gave me an opening." She looks about at the quiet ballet of movement around her. Each gesture, each step, each twitch of muscle from every living thing in the immediate area announced its intention and destination. "I opened a line between myself and my demonic essence and...Ari, this feels incredible. I could see where your footwork was going to take you, and those dodges were as simple as breathing." She walks over and reaches out a hand to pat the aasimar on the shoulder of their armor. "Again?"

"Good. That's the way of it, I think - finding the place where you aren't thinking. You will it and you find that you have done it. Yes - again." The pair spend the next hour pushing each other to their limits. Each finds themselves in the dirt more than once, but at the end of the hour, Alaris lets Shiva pull them up one final time and wipes the dirt and blood from their face. "I think that is enough for tonight. Tomorrow, we see what else I can find up my sleeve for you." This evening it is Shiva who stands on her tiptoes to give Alaris a kiss on the cheek before going to rest. 

As she relaxes into a gentle slumber that night, it occurs to her that she had likely entered the state that she was in today many time before. There was probably just too much action, too much emotion taking place for her to even notice it. "And the first time was probably down in that Pit..."  These words are the last to cross her mind before she falls into a deep sleep.

On the third day of travel, Alaris makes their rounds of the camp, helping the priors and camp followers get settled. They stretch and grab Hope's Edge from its place on Zadkiel's saddle. Their eyes are clouded with fatigue and concern as they move towards the sparring ground, but Shiva's excitement kindles a burst of fresh energy in the aasimar. They spend several seconds moving with the glaive, warming their muscles and freshening their mind. Then they stop in a stance half-facing Shiva, holding the glaive blade end down with the haft parallel to their right arm and the butt extending over their shoulder. With their left hand, they once again give Shiva the now-familiar beckoning gesture. "Again."

Shiva answers with a sudden burst of motion as she again pulls lightly from the demon, hurling herself towards Alaris as the world brightens into immaculate focus. Hoping to catch them off guard, she targets their weapon. Knocking the blade end of the glaive up with the claws of her left hand, she follows up with two light strikes towards the face before retreating back several steps. Alaris shuffles sideways in an unfamiliar pattern, allowing the glaive to roll across their shoulders to their left hand. As Shiva drops back, Alaris swings Hope's Edge in a high arc, then follows the tiefling, keeping her from getting set. Edge towards the throat flows into a midsection sweep with the butt. Alaris shifts to a thrusting routine that challenges Shiva to practice using her claws to fight off the blade, forcing her hands higher, higher. The aasimar follows a double-thrust high with a snapkick aimed for Shiva's chin!

As the snapkick flies through the air, it is with the slightest twitch that she avoids the brunt of the strike, the aasmiar's boot scraping against her left jaw. The change in approach and aggressiveness had put Shiva on the back foot, the onslaught coming too quickly to counter, allowing her only to react. On the edges of her perception, she felt the demon breathe more strength into her. As Alaris follows through on the kick, Shiva steps into their guard and shoulders them in the stomach with her full weight. All the air in Alaris' lungs bursts forth as the shoulder rush knocks the wind out of them. They drop two heavy elbow strikes to Shiva's unprotected back, then hook their arm around her neck and throw all their weight backwards, trying to overbalance her and drive her head into the turf.

Shiva grunts in pain as Alaris's elbows slam down into her back. When their arm wraps around her neck, a chill of instinctual fear glides up her spine and she struggles to break free. Straining to stay upright, the pressure on her neck and shoulders from Alaris's weight is immediately too much to bear. She feels a faint tingle across the skin of her hand as she throws a right hook towards their abdomen, followed by a surge of energy the moment she makes contact. BZZZZACK goes the blast of white-hot energy, accompanied by the hot burning scent of ozone. Alaris spasms as the power jolts them and they roll off Shiva's back. The ground meets their unconscious form with a rush and a thud.

It's only a few seconds after she's released that Shiva realizes Alaris isn't moving. "Oh shit! Ari! Ari!?" Dropping to her knees beside them, she gently shakes their shoulders. "Ari I'm sorry, I didn't know I could do that!" The aasimar's silvery eyes flutter open and after a moment, they find their focus. "No fear, love. Nothing to apologize for... I'm still trying to perfect that silly snap kick move. I guess education is never a waste."

Shiva smiles as they come back to consciousness. "It was very good, a second too late and it would've been me lying on my back." Helping them to their feet, she tucks an arm under their armpit to help them stand. "I think that's enough for today, yeah?" Alaris laughs and leans easily on the tiefling. "I think we know now that we won't break each other. Did you see how my attack routine took your guard higher and higher? When we work more, we'll bring the others in as well and think of ways to create offensive and defensive routines that work that way - creating vulnerabilities that can be exploited. But now - lets talk to the others and get ready for Littlewood." Shiva nods happily as her and Alaris make their way back to the center of camp.

Quote from stormchaser6 >>

The river running through Mingol Bar is a fast-moving torrent this morning, as snow melt from the mountains drives the fortress's water wheels at high speed. In the light of day and under a clear, blue sky, the town seems vibrant, bustling and perhaps even hopeful. Nevertheless, the time has come to continue on the road to Paragon and the carriage with the relic, the priors and the Ivanovich family departs later that morning.

Just fifteen miles north-east of the dwarven town, the rugged tundra gives way to Littlewood's rolling, grassy hills. Over the next few days, the hills gently fade to plains, which become fields and farmland, until the rural trail finally brings the travellers to the border community of Hearthstead. It's late in the afternoon when the village comes into sight, but even from the farms surrounding the settlement halflings can be seen raising a hand or tipping their hat in greeting. The dusty main road through the middle of the village rings with the delighted screams of tiny little children playing.

A chilling reminder that this would have been the first stop for the would-be Sarameian invaders.

In the heart of the village, what looks to be a guest house is proudly signed An Teach Beag.

Alaris frowns and sighs, looking to the others. "Languages are not high on the list of things I've learned. Does anyone know what anything here says?"