[Open] Walhalla wacht

[Sylvan Ravenhead]

Tired. I am so very tired. This feeling. Like I am being burned on a pyre alive. Oh wait, I am being burned down alive. Strange. I don't feel like I have died yet. And... what is this?

---

Sylvan felt strange. Like he was forcefully thrown out of his body and then asked to return back to it. Weak and disoriented, he thought about what was to become of him after his undoubtful death. Acording to beliefs of his ancestors, a warriors soul was sent into eternal fight against Darkness. It was the souls of the dead that guarded dreams of the living. The warriors duty never ended, even in death. That is why the presence that now was intruding upon his death realm proved to be... disconcenting. But the wolf could do nothing about it. He was devoid of all ability to control his body. On the other hand, the presence was not malevolent. How did he know? Fight with Baalan for your entire life and maybe you might be able to comprehend.
Finaly, the presence took pity on the wolf. And started talking...

[Katrielle Layton]

Hunter Hayes wasn't entirely sure what was going on-- but from what he could tell, this was an entire dimension different from his own... if Omni had been telling the truth. His emotions were everywhere at the moment; he was upset that he was pulled away from his family before he could save them, somewhat relieved because he was still alive, and terrified of the new world he had been unceremoniously dropped into.

He glanced around, but something near the fountain caught his attention. The thing had suddenly popped into existence a few feet above the floor before collapsing on the ground below. Cautiously, the former priest crept up to what he first thought to be a human in some sort of purple robes. However, upon closer inspection, he noticed that the head of the stranger was not at all human in nature, but rather something more... wolfish.

His hand fell to the red bag of salt latched onto his belt. However, he didn't plan to use it just yet. This was a werewolf, but it didn't appear as feral as it should be. Perhaps it wouldn't act as animalistic? And besides, if his guess was correct, this creature had just been pulled from its world and dumped here. That would leave just about anyone confused.

So against his better judgment, he reached out his other hand. "Hello," he asked, his voice a gentle tenor, "are you okay?"

[Sylvan Ravenhead]

The presence named itself. Omni. It claimed to be the one responsible for his current prediction. Sylvan dared not speak in the presence of a godlike creature, that held the power to decide his further fate. And being able to live after experiencing certain death? No true warrior would ever pass such an opportunity. Even if this world is completely different, darkness is the same everywhere. And no matter the circumstances, a warriors duty must be fulfilled to the very end. And death is no excuse to shrink from your duties.

---

Ever found yourself weak enough not to able to break you fall from a small height? Sylvan rarely found himself in situation like that after he turned thirty. Arriving back at the material plane resulted in a much more substantial reminder of the reason for his death. The pain, even though he was no longer burning alive, still lingered in his muscles memory. This unfavorable mental condition had to be addressed first. Calling upon the ancient knowledge, passed unto him during his time as a student of Orden Ogan, wolf quietly chanted under his breath the mantras of mental fortitude. It is in this state, still on his knees on the floor of wherever it was, that Sylvan was approached by someone else. His ears turned in the direction of a voice, expressing concern for his well being. Not sensing immediate danger from the sincere tone of the one asking, Sylvan turned his head in the direction of the speaker. The sight in front of him made him react on an instinctual level to something completely unknown. Overcoming the feeling of pain in his limbs, wolf's body moved to position him in a battle ready stance, hands hovering over the handles of his swords. Yet, his eyes searched the figure, trying to assess the immediate danger of the stranger. Not seeing any weapons on it, the black wolf relaxed a bit and lowered his hands along his sides. - I be fine, stranger. - It was an interesting fact that he seemed to be able to understand the creatures speech and even talk back to it. - Do forgive my rudeness, but thou art furless. What race does thou belong to?

[Katrielle Layton]

His reflexes acted for him, one hand hovering over the bag of salt, the other one buried deep in his coat pocket, fingers curling around the handle of his pistol. The atmosphere was hot with tension as the two Primes stared each other down. Neither of them moved for a while, but when they did, it was to disengage. The wolf was the first to withdraw its weapons, and while the former priest followed its actions in turn, he was far more hesitant; his hands slowly returned to his side, although his shoulders remained tense.

Then the stranger began to talk. Hunter blinked in surprise, unsure of what to make of it. Despite the fact that this humanoid lupine was speaking the same (albeit a more medieval version) language as him, he seemingly had never seen a human before. And if he had never seen a human before... then he couldn't be a werewolf-- they were two sides of the same, cursed coin. The very thought eased his worries somewhat.

"I'm human," he said simply. "And my name is Hunter Hayes. ...Although human probably doesn't mean anything from wherever you came from, doesn't it?" He crossed his arms in thought. "Do you have apes or monkeys in your world? They would be the closest species to a human that exist in my world." He paused for a moment. "What should I call your race? At first I thought you were a werewolf. I know you're some kind of wolf, though."

[Sylvan Ravenhead]

In the upbringing of every wolf, there were two things every pup was taught to uphold through their very lives: to be grateful, and not to bare their fangs without planning to bring violence forth. Thus every wolf was careful not to show their fangs during conversations. - - Human, mon-keigh, ape... Indeed thine words are not known to me. But I accept thee being human. And I be wolf. A warpack leader of Lupus Empire, named Sylvan, heir of clan Ravenhead. My bloodline is pure, there were no hybrids in our family line with any of the felinid menace. So I do not understand what do you mean by some kind of wolf or werewolf. - A new world bore many possibilities for misunderstandings, and those were better off cleared as fast as possible. Especially ones concerning the purity of the wolf's lineage. Wolves of Ravenhead clan only mated with wolves. And even though there was no prejudice against those wolves who fell in love with different representatives of the catkind, Sylvan could not stay indifferent after witnessing his fellow warriors being brutally slain by the felinids. He hated catkind with a passion. And to imply that his lineage was tainted with any of those unworthy beasts... But Sylvan did not intend to take offense at anything that was said to him before confirming that offense was indeed intended. And from what his brief observation of the standing before him individual, going by the name Hunter, showed, there was little malevolence in this human.
The wolf's tail slowly swished from side to side, while his ears stood erect and scanned his surroundings. The mantras helped to keep the most of the pain blocked out, but it would definitely take time before his body would adjust to this new existence and his feeble mind restore itself from the suddenness and unexpectedness of the situation. Until that time, Sylvan would have to find suitable distraction. And finding out about the world around him seemed like a fitting enough idea. He would definitely ask Hunter more about their surroundings .

[Katrielle Layton]

Hunter remained quiet, listening to the lupine's explanation. Only after Sylvan finished speaking did the human continue. "Ah, maybe I should explain a bit. A werewolf, or a "lycanthrope," is a human that's cursed to become a wolf during the full moon." He gingerly pointed at the warchief. "The wolf form is much like yours, but more feral. They're dangerous. Thankfully you're not one."


He turned for a moment, glancing around at all the gates that surrounded them as he spoke. "Your story seems interesting. Much more than mine, to be honest. You see, me and my wife ran an orphanage in London." The next part he murmured under his breath. "...I hope they're all safe though-- I was brought here before I could finish the protection spell..."

[Sylvan Ravenhead]

A fellow defender than. Sylvan was inclined to believe this one. Hunter felt like a much younger version of one of his battle brothers. Lost to the merciless grinder of war. Though it felt like he was left without knowledge of whether or not his efforts bore fruit, or were wasted in futility. - Fear not the failure and let it not derail thou from fulfilling thine duty. Onward is the only way for the likes of us, Hunter. Failure is not an option. As long as I exist, I will not stray from the path I be sat upon. Same should go for you, such is my belief. - Sylvan's fists were clenched so tightly, his sharp nails could easily pierce his skin. What saved his hands were fingerless hardened leather gauntlets. He needed to relax.
- This world though is unfamiliar to me. I understand thou art from another place too. But have you had time to find anything out, since thou came here before me?

[Katrielle Layton]

Huh, looks like Sylvan was wiser than the man had expected. Brains and brawn together. Not all that common, but always welcome. Hunter smiled slightly at the wolf. "...You're right. If we're going to be stuck here, we might as well make the most of it. If we figure out how to get back to our worlds, then we can work on that. But until then, we can work on making the Omniverse a better place."

When the lupine questioned how much the former priest knew about this universe, he shrugged. "I only came here about a minute or two before you, so I know about as much as you. From the looks of it though, I believe the more interesting parts of this dimension lie beyond the eight gates that surround us. If we want to get more information, we should probably pass through one. I'm thinking we should start with one of these two." He splayed out both of his hands, one pointing at the hewn stone gate that had people exiting and entering it. His other hand was pointing at the "gate" formed by a pair of arching palm trees. "I'd be interested in checking out either of these. Is there one in particular that you'd like to visit?"

Just to make sure we're clear, Hunter wants to visit Camelot or the Vasty Deeps. I'd prefer to visit Camelot, but I'm flexible.

[Sylvan Ravenhead]

Thought of Camelot myself. Specifically, considering the general hostility to non-humans, was going to go on a journey to Dalaran. That sounds fine?

- Well, and here I thought that you could be given a job as a guide for the newly arrived dead. Guess that was not on Omni's mind when he snatched either one of us here. - Then and there, Sylvan dropped any pretence at what his kind considered a noble-speak. Being born of high status and of pureblood lineage, he was expected to speak and behave in the way considered traditional and appropriate for a wolf of his status. But in all honesty, he did not like that kind of talking, unless he felt like it was necessary. After introducing and getting to know a little bit about Hunter, he didn't feel like there was any reason left to play the noble part. - I suppose we could move through the rocky gates. They... somehow seem more fitting than other ones. - As he thought about it, the gate seemed to be the one to take for the start of his journey. And since it seemed that Hunter was okay with the idea, there was no need to part ways. A group of travellers was beneficial to him, since it appeared that he might find himself in a place, where wolves were not as common. On the other hand, Sylvan still had to re-establish his mind and body control. The phantom pain has mostly faded, but the wolf had a feeling that his death (Sylvan decided that this would be his afterlife) has greatly affected his body. It would be prudent to restore his abilities to the fullest before attempting to pursue a higher position in this world. - Let me just check my armoury and we should be good to set out.

[Katrielle Layton]

Wait, Sylvan knew how to speak modern English the entire time? Then why was he using the medieval version until now? It didn't seem like he had been using the former for a particular reason, so the sudden change was jarring. But although Hunter was wondering about why this was case, he figured that it wasn't important. Now, if the warrior had suddenly started speaking Latin, then they would have a problem-- that was a surefire symptom of possession. He had done enough exorcisms to know that for certain.

He nodded when his wolf friend agreed with his decision to visit the stone gate. While the entrance provided by the two palm trees looked enticing, he wasn't sure if it actually had people there. ...Well, there were a couple people that were entering, but they wore the same white full-body armor as the ones guarding the gate opposite of their destination, and in all honesty, the orphanage owner thought they were intimidating.

"Alright, you check your stuff, I'll check mine." The former priest turned away, pulling the bags of salt out from his belt so he could examine them closer. Thankfully they didn't seem to be tampered with. He reattached the sacks, satisfied with his inventory; he had examined the gun when he had first arrived, so he didn't need to check it again. He hadn't brought much with him into the Omniverse, but hopefully he could remedy that later.

"You ready?"

Sounds good! I plan for Hayes to complete the Monster Hunter quest at some point if you're interested.

[Sylvan Ravenhead]

Being in charge of his own warpack made Sylvan a lot more careful than he was before that. As a simple warrior he never had to care a lot about others. Kill or be killed, that was the only question he had to find the answer to, day after day. It was a relief for him not to be in charge anymore. Sure, the circumstances under which the wolf got relieved were far from ideal, but it is not healthy to question what has happened. Why, maybe, if one intends to understand what was made wrong or right. But to simply question the past brings no value with it. As a being that valued his time and resources, Sylvan did not question. He simply accepted and moved on. A quality that allowed him to stay sane in most situations and not lose his cool.
The first thing the wolf inspected was his tail. The long appendage was paramount to his sense of balance and could be used as a distraction in a lot of fights. Several brushes of nails to straighten up the fur and get rid of knots allowed the object of inspection to receive a passing mark. Said nails came second. While wolves did not posses the ability of catkind to completely extract and retract claws, wolves' nails were at least partially hidden. At this partially retracted state, Sylvan's nails reached half an inch in length, adding an inch when he extracted them to their fullest length. The warriors' of Lupus Empire sharpened them to a point where mere skin could not resist, thus the need to wear gauntlets in order to protect their palms. Sylvan decided that his nails could wait until later in the evening, when he could file and sharpen them without attracting unnecessary attention. That would also be the time to inspect his fangs. More or less accepting his physical state, , the wolf moved to his main weapons - his nodachi.
Deeming it inconsiderate and possibly inappropriate to draw both of the blades at the same time, Sylvan drew the blade from upper scabbard first. This was the Gorechild, wielded by him in the left hand, which he slowly pulled and after the mechanism in the scabbard opened it up at the top, lifted the nodachi up to the level of his eyes. Carefully inspecting the collar of the blade he made sure that it was still in place and holding strong. Then came the turn of the handguard and hilt. Last but not least, his eyes roamed over the blade itself. Lack of any visual problems was tested with checking the way it sounded. Some might find it funny, seeing a wolf listening to the music his nails drew from the steel, but for someone whose whole life depended on the absence of surprises, this was no fun. Satisfied with the sound and the grove sharp edge of the Gorechild left in his nail, Sylvan put the nodachi back into its scabbard, retracing his moves from when getting it out.
His second nodachi, wielded in his right hand and absolutely identical to the first, was the Gorefather. This one usually saw the battlefield if the opponent was proven worthy or was simply way too numerous to handle with Gorechild only. It was taken out of its scabbard much like the first nodachi with the only difference being the reverse grip on the handle when taking it out. The wolf did it like that due to the fact it allowed him to easily pull both nodachi out when the situation demanded it. Repeating the steps he just followed through with the Gorechild, Sylvan put the Gorefather back to its resting place. Next time they would feel the air to test blood, not be tested.
Patting himself up and down as much as he could, the wolf confirmed his chainmail and metal plates in his trousers were intact. His other instruments, like the grooming kit, also seemed to be intact. Once again, this would have to do, until they are able to stop in some place that would allow for more personal privacy. Speaking of which... After looking around a bit more, Sylvan could tell that humans were the largest race to be represented here. There were other races, true, but not so numerous. And definitely there were none of his . In this case, he believed, it would be prudent to hide his features. Thus, the wolf put his rain hood over his head, efficiently hiding his features from a cursory glance. Of course, this might attract unwanted attention, but at least that would warrant him some time to be able to explain, and not face the hostility from the very start. Probably.
- I am ready now. It would be for the best for you to take the lead for now. At least then we could always downplay my presence for being your bodyguard or something along those lines. To my knowledge, that explanation tends to ease lesser minds when facing someone they would rather not in any normal circumstance. I hope this world is not that much different.

A short tour to MT to learn what is going on in the "world" and that quest sounds like a place for the first pit-stop. I would suppose you are the first one outta here and into the Camelot? In that case I'll find your thread next.

[Katrielle Layton]

Hunter frowned at Sylvan's suggestion. He never liked lying, even when it was needed, and right now it didn't seem necessary. "I don't think we'll need to do that; I bet this place receives non-humans all the time. ...But if it'll make you more comfortable, then go ahead." And without another word, he turned towards the stone gate and began making his way towards it with his wolf friend trailing behind.

The Nexus was a vast place. It was very vast. So vast, in fact, that after approximately 30 minutes of walking, the gate didn't appear any closer than when they started, despite the fountain eventually fading into the distance. "Maybe we should get some transportation?" The brunet wasn't entirely sure how to get such a thing, but then he recalled something Omni had said-- if he needed it, then Omnilium could make it.

The orphanage owner paused for a moment, trying to coax out the efflorescent orb of energy he had seen earlier. It eventually formed between the palms of his hands, reflecting with the full spectrum of colors in its glossy film. He imagined a carridge, with two powerful horses in the reins. But wait, where would he keep the equines? He didn't have a stable. Maybe he could make... fake horses? He retooled the equines so they wouldn't require care.

After 15 minutes, their ride materialized nearby, its sleek, black exterior contrasting with the blankness around them. Waiting at the reins stood two bronze horses, bright light shining through their eyes and creeping past the chinks in their plating. One of them turned to the group and snorted steam.

Gingerly, Hunter opened the door and entered, poking his head out so he could see Sylvan. "Hopefully this works for you?"

[Sylvan Ravenhead]

This world was not like his. In many aspects. The distance seemed to be small, but their destination did not seem to be any closer despite the fact that their starting point was left a way behind. Questions of perception were a field started by tacticians and strategists of the Lupus Empire, but this was beyond those laws Sylvan was used to. His instincts screamed at him, making his fur slightly stand in a silent response to a situation perceived as a threat. Thankfully the coat and hood hid his features from the outside world, so his nervousness was not something a whole world would see. Or anyone for that matter, since he doubted short noses humans sported could actually sense anything of value. But why could he not scent anything, now that was a question he had to contemplate. Usually a wolf's nose was spot on dissecting thousands of small nuances of another creatures scent. It was why they were feared so much. You could never hide anything from a fully trained wolf's nose. Unless, of course, you hid in a sewer or the rain has pouring for several days and erased any trace. But his thoughts strayed from the main question. The distance...
Apparently, his human companion had similar thoughts and instead of daydreaming about other things, he actually decided to try and put his hands to solving the problem. Both figuratively and literally. Sylvan was intrigued by the strange substance that was omnilium, generated by the human. But as with everything that happened in his life, the wolf got bored in about a minute and tried to find himself a more productive activity. But what was he to do? Thankfully, they were not the only ones traveling the vast distance between gates and he could silently marvel at the variety of different transports: from living animals with two, four or sometimes six legs, to strange elongated rides that never actually touched the ground. One of the contraptions got his attention though. It was a rectangular carriage without horses, low and made of some kind of metal, with four wheel and steering wheel, like a ship (though located at the front). But the device did not hold the attention of the wolf. What did was something existing in his world, something he dedicated half of his life to studying, nut never has his ears heard something of this variation of music before. The steersman (what else would you call them in this world he wondered), a human with long blonde hair and strange pictures on his hands, was waiting for something or someone, so Sylvan came closer to listen...

---

When Sylvan returned to Hunters side, he was a happy owner of a name of the band (just like a group of warriors, but not warriors) that played the song he liked and instructions on how to get their songs and other. That was all he needed and the human who provided him with the information, despite initial awkwardness, seemed to be glad to share this with, he said, "a new brother of steel and metal". And his companion was an owner of a proper carriage, though the wolf could not in all honesty say the same for the horses. If they were products of someones hand, mechanical contraptions, he would have never trusted his well-being to them. But since they were created by magic (or what could be called magic), he could be at least assured they would not break easily. - I be lying if I say this does not bother me, Hunter. But its magic. And I trust magic. - an without further adieu, Sylvan got on the carriage.
The speed they were moving with was decent. About 40 to 50 miles, if his perception did not fool him. And it seemed that their carriage could go even faster, but he doubted that would be comfortable for either of them. Nevertheless, regardless of the speed increase, it seemed like they would spend some time on the road to their destination. Just about as right time to ask questions and tell stories as it gets. - Say, Hunter. What were you whisked away from here? I cannot say I am not curious, if you are willing to share the story?

Back to working schedule, so might be stuck some times with updates. But I will try to keep up with the daily (aside from Sundays) updates. Kudos.

[Katrielle Layton]

The horses raced at a brisk pace, their metallic hooves thundering against the nothingness of the Nexus. Despite never actually steering a carriage at this speed, Hunter realized that controlling the ride came naturally to him, even though at this speed it would normally be impossible to safely operate the vehicle. The ride was smooth, almost inhumanly so, and it was as if the mechanical marvels could understand his thoughts-- whenever he moved to tug at the reins so he could realign the two, they would pull themselves back into place before he could pull. Satisfied with the performance of the vehicle, he relaxed in his seat, although he still kept both his hands secured on the reins and his eyes ahead.

When Sylvan asked for more details about his past, he didn't respond. Not at first, anyway. A long moment of silence passed as he debated whether or not to answer. Even now, just thinking about his family - the orphanage - and the fact that he could no longer protect them from the supernatural... it made his soul tremble. But... he needed to accept that he wasn't going to see them again, and this was the first step. He sighed, briefly glancing over at his wolfish friend.

"As I... mentioned earlier, I lived in London. I used to be a Catholic priest. I mostly did exorcisms, alongside the usual stuff. But I eventually left that position so I could marry. Not many agreed with it, but I'd be lying if I said I regretted my decision. Stella and I eventually gained possession of an orphanage, and we realized where our destinies lay. We would take care of the children when no one else was there for them-- we even adopted a child of our own. Oh, sweet Chelsea..." His eyes glazed over, gazing into the past for a moment before he remembered what he was doing.

"Anyway, everything was peaceful... for the most part. But when the full moon was out, I would occasionally find that a demon or their ilk was waiting outside the building. Just... watching. No one else noticed them, not even when I pointed it out to them. But since the creatures were not trying to harm anyone, I humored the others when they said nothing was there. This went on for a while, until today." His hands tightened around the reins, causing the horses to speed up slightly in response.

"It was All Hallows Eve, more commonly known as Halloween. It's a holiday inspired by the creatures that the Pagans worshipped-- usually demons and witches. Nowadays the holiday involves children dressing up in costumes and going door-to-door to receive candy, but the malevolent origins still hides underneath all of the innocent festivities. I've always suspected that this holiday brought about unsavory supernatural monsters, but it was that day when I got confirmation of it. Demons and evil spirits - dozens of them - had appeared all around the premises. And this time, they were hostile."

"As I was the only one who could see them, I was the only one who could protect them. I worked to put up wards all over the orphanage, to cast protective spells, but they broke through all of them. I needed something more powerful. But a spell of that caliber needed a sacrifice, and a simple animal wouldn't suffice. As my intention was to protect the others, there was only one person I could use. ...After all, if the spell was cast, they wouldn't need me to protect them anymore."

His hands trembled at the conclusion of his story. "And now I'm here." His voice now sounded somewhat loathing at the unfortunate circumstances he found himself in, with a hint of despair. "And now I can't save them. I was pulled away before I could do so."

[Sylvan Ravenhead]

Until today... Time was actually a very interesting concept in and of itself, but in the afterlife, was it really the same as in life? This question has been running somewhere in the back of Sylvan's head all this time, nagging at his consciousness from the deepness of his subconsciousness, and now it was brought forth by what Hunter has said. Without any contraption to actually measure the passage of time, the wolf was not sure as to how long it was since he has died. At least his human companion was sure of his passage of time concept, so it would be wise for the warrior to follow that for now. Until he could get his hands on testing the passage of time and his own speed of comprehension and body in the afterlife.
While one part of wolf's brain was busy with cataloguing the unknown parts of the new environment, which was paramount for him to properly assess his capabilities and limits as a warrior in current state, other part was attentively listening and discerning what Hunter was willing to share. This came easily to ambidextrous and bilingual wolf. Though he still had to hold tightly for dear life, less he lose footing and be sent for an unpleasant kissing session with local soil. That perspective did not look inviting for the warrior at all. He could suffer through punches in a brawl and evade all the strikes aimed at him of sharp-edged weapons (in his whole lifetime the wolf did not receive a single scar - testament to his great prowess in keeping his own body as whole and fit as possible, since there is no such thing as regeneration), but he cared not for humiliation and ridicule that would definitely follow falling off ones ride.
Sylvan was a good listener, if sometimes impatient and uncaring for what others perceived as horrendous troubles of their oh-so-important lives. He rarely showed emotions such as pity and sorrow. After seeing death not once, not twice, but a thousand times, one stops to think of anything as worthy of metaphorical or literal tears. As such, he let the human finish his story before sharing his personal thoughts. - To tell you the truth, I do not know what to exactly tell you in regards to you situation. It feels to me like it is emotionally more difficult on you then mine would be to me. You say you left being a priest to marry... looks like she really was something. I can't see myself abandoning my post in warpack for anyone, but that is a complicated issue on my side, so I am not really someone who could be used as an example on this matter. And in the end you were ready to sacrifice yourself for their protection. - At these words Sylvan took a pause in order to carefully consider his next words and his thoughts on this once more. It looked like they were coming closer to their destination and soon would be passing through the gate. - No other way, huh... I am not sure I would be able to cast myself aside like that. You are much stronger than you look outside. Hey, I know. We, my human companion, are actually on the opposite sides of the same axis. - The wolf pointed first to the driver of the carriage. - You, my dear Hunter, was in a very personal relationship and everything rested on what you could do. So you tried your best up to a point where you figuratively died. On the other hand, me. - Here the black furred wolf pointed at himself. - My position required me to detach myself from everyone and lead others, disregarding the costs and only caring about results, with my own survival being paramount for continuous fulfillment of this duty. In the end though, died literally. If you can, I could advise you to evade experiencing death. Especially by fire. An unpleasant way to leave mortal coils. Anyways, I can't tell you something like don't let it influence you or other bullshit. You are way too attached to Chelsea and your kids, and that is plain as the skies of Villielaimia over Lupus Empire during summer. Mourn if you need to, but let us hope for the best, until the worst is confirmed. Oh, what do you say if we try to somehow find a way to give that Omni guy who brought us here a visit? See if it is possible to return to our initial worlds? If we are not on our separate roads before that is even possible?
The gate was in sight. Soon they would pass and new paths will be open to them. Having someone who was a fierce in protecting others at his side was something Sylvan would be glad to accept. Even if that venture would not last for the full duration of their journey here. One could certainly hope, but only time would tell.

[Sylvan Ravenhead]

The adventure continues here >>> Downtown in Fantasyland