Rabies?  Alexis doubted it.  Such things did not happen all at once, and not at the approach of an Adhara...Something else was at play...Something dangerous.

As the 'creature' turned its aggression on her guard, another of her men rushed in.  The Colonel took his armed before he could draw his blade.  "Let's not chop him up just yet."  The man glanced between the woman and the monster, taking a beat to understand her meaning.  It would be unwise to reveal her role in the man's insanity openly so she left things there.

Not fully understanding, the swordsman still did as he was told, turning into a jog that allowed him to tackle the wild man, attempting to grab behind the knees and trip him backward, freeing his pinned comrade.

Alexis would attempt to cautiously put distance between herself and the magiced man, hoping to disguise his potential return to sanity with a pin from one of her men.  After all, if the townies figured out what she was, they might be grateful for a time, before turning on an apostate.

"Fair enough," the armored man said, palming his sallet over his head.  He took on of the offered horses, guiding it to the two mages after a signal to take the spare away to one of his men, who hurried away.  The beasts were not exactly large, but they were visibly muscular - powerful.  Each could carry two fully armored men (though this was rarely advisable), and neither Tara or Joshua were knights.

Turning away from the guests, the officer addressed his men: "Alright, mount up.  We' got a rabbit to catch."  At his order, the rides stepped into their stirrups, easily kicking over their saddles as they waited for the mages and their commander...

In the time it had taken for Ally to rest, Samuel had managed to flip through a few pages of her pilfered tome, copying what he could and when possible, neglecting anecdotes that added nothing to the formulas and the like.  A slight creeking from the direction of his quarters told the host that his guest was stirring and slipped his own grimoire back into hiding before slipping upstairs.

Glancing though the latticed window, he saw that it was nearly sunrise and put a clay pot on the hearth, beginning to prepare a morning porridge in case the shifter was hungry...

The men always found it a treat when they were given leave to venture into a nearby town.  While the regiment had its own needs, those asigned the job of pickup duty often relished the chance to blowoff steam away from their brothers in arms.  Even their Colonel had found an excuse to venture in, seeking out a textile seller.

The place was oddly named, marked on maps in a language Alexis was not familiar with.  Perhaps it had been named for some unremembered exotic origin but whatever history birthed it would long elude her.  She drew a few unerved glances from the commoners, the radiating scars around her temple and cheek giving her a severe contenance, even when she smiled.

Her men did the tedious work of carrying a near mile of jute cord to the group's wagon, in addition to several casks of beer and other important odds and ends.  Still, as it drew close to their time to go, nothing amid the tailor's stock struck her interest and she eventually gave up, returning to the stable, though not without going to pick up a pie wrapped meal for herself and her men.

It was not until she was a few paces from the stall when one of it's patrons, an odd, masked man seemed to turn violent.  The swordsman at her heel, dutiful wardog that he was, advance ahead of Alexis, taking the snarling figure by the shoulder, attempting to throw him to the dirt.

It might have seemed imperceptible, but the soldier's hand slid toward her own short blade, readying to draw should the need arise.  "What's going on over here?" she asked in a clear voice that revealed her authority.

Wolfram was accustomed to threats and gave no reaction to Tara's magically enhanced menace.  Still, he had little interest in fighting an enraged magus to he chose not to push back on the matter.

At her question, though he only had a simple response; "If you're in a hurry, we can go now."  It was better if the small band was away before the Colonel could stop them and they already had their horses and sladdles ready.  He guestured to a pair of extra horses brought forward for the pair.

"Um," Joshua began, seeming clearly awkward at the offered gift.  "I can't actually ride," he admitted, eyeing the horse, seeming to ignore Tara's closeness

"You can ride double them," Wolfram informed.  Looking back to the bard, he added, "If you have trouble with horses, the same offer goes."  The armored warrior indicated his own stallion to illustrate his idea.

"Um...yeah," Joshau almost mimicked, recoginizing her awkward attempt to avoid seeming week.  He let go of her, hands lacing behind his head as he looked for something to do with them.

His eyes again flickered toward the riders as the nervously fidgeted with their mounts, hoping for some semblance of safety.  "I..."  The smith paused.  He could not tell Wolfram's motives either.  "I think he has his own aims..."

"If nothing else," the mercenary said, having approached the pair to defend himself against Tara's suspicions.  "Trust that when we cross into Serendipity, whatever advantage I may have over you is gone and the only thing I desire is to help hunt down your prey."  Offering a hand for the mage-girl to take, more a symbolic gesture than anything.  "Would you be willing to trust me that far?"

It had not been wholly unexpected, given the intensity of the earlier reaction, so Samuel was quick to catch the unconcious girl before she fell.  The demonlord decided if she needed to rest, such would best be done in his bedroom, carrying her to the place he had relinquished to her earlier.

He elected not to worry greatly, reterning to the main room to clean up the mess.  The charcoal slime was his first priority, needing to be scrubbed out before it stained as Samuel took a bucket from his closet.  He filled outside, before adding a closed pyre-bottle to heat it and adding a cake of soap to the rapidly steaming agent.

Ally's draconic mishap had also scattered some of his furniture so he would have to pick those up as well.  Ideally, Samuel hoped to have another chance with the tome before his guest woke once again...

The gilded flames of the bard's wild magic consumed the grass as the smith's feet, even as he stumbled back at the girl's push.  Green turned to black and Joshua felt his hair rise as it was sapped of moisture by Tara's firestorm.  For his part the man absorbed as much of the heat as came toward him, his own eyes glowing orange as fire died lapping at his clothes, leaving to mark except here his sleeve had caught, though he quickly swatted that down.  A minor inconvenience.

Still, when his companion awkwardly returned to him, he was unsure what to say.  He had never lost control of his magic and found it hard to sympathize.  "Right," he said dumbly, looking for a line that would not offend.  "I guess it's all been a bit...much?"

Offering a brief glance toward towards the mercenaries - Wolfram's rouge Jagers - Joshua took the bard by the shoulders and asked, "Uh...Are you gonna be okay?"

The tall man offed a sideways nod.  "Of course," he said, seeming a little nervous, looking to the smith for a cue.

Saddly, Joshua had none to offer, just as clueless as most Connlaothians on the complexities of magic, which had few real rules beyond those imposed by each practitioner's nature.  Instead, the fire magus put an arm around the bard to pull her away.

As far as most know, Colonel Mandel was the only Mordecai in camp and an Adhara at that; her range had never been impressive, only reaching three or four paces.  Still, given their history - their culture - it was mostly unsurprising that the dozen riders pulled away from the foreign mage, seeking to avoid getting caught in what ever hell erupted from her.

Samuel had few options available to treat the contorting, misshapen girl.  He was no healer, no apothecary and despite being a hired killer, had little relevant use for poison to even use as a baseline of his understanding of medicine from its wicked side.

He could not be sure of the danger he was in, his relaxing hold letting his right arm contort into a grim mockery as he pondered his options.  Perhaps an extract to induce vomiting...no, the girl's body had already absorbed enough of her potion.  He was moving quickly to the cupboards downstairs, sorting though his reagents for possible options.

Perhaps charcoal.  It might pull the potion from her body and begin to counter the effect.  Taking a black nugget, he dropped it into a rough powder; he did not have time to do a better job.  Mixing it with a bit of water, he hurried back to the deformed girl, offering the ugly mixture to the girl.  "Drink.  It might make things more bearable."  His writhing familiar lingered behind him, holding a skin of water to help wash it down...

Truly, not all seemed so desperate.  Samuel was never a man prone to panic and was in no way squeamish at the process of death; he was after all the cause of much himself.  Instead, he braced against the mast as the ship bucked once again, peering out at the tumultuous sea, studying the minor vulcanos.

The demonlord had long since eased his hold on his black arm, glaring yellow eyes flickered out of viscous lids along his shoulder, chattering steel-gray teeth smiling from his forearm.  So a passing observer might be forgiven from missing the odd wooden coin flipping though his left hand as he made for the edge of the vessel, casting the little amulet away, skipping it toward the nearest blaze.

The device burned almost instantly, gone in an orange flash as the seal was released.  The air roiled and sulfuric clouds gathered and grew as something that lurked on the other side of existance sought its entry into reality.

The grand servent emerged from the other side through what most could only describe as a tear in their visual perspective; a rip and a blink and there it came, a being with five screaming mandibles and a dozen eyes ringed behind that.  Scales shivered under a forest of flailing tendrils that sought the beings master.

Samuel held a hand out to the beast, a signal calling the leviathan toward the Solar Halo and the serpant slithered toward the great ship.  Only as it came along side, caressing its master's outstretched hand, did the creature's size register with a number of men around him; just as wide as the carrack but almost a dozen times longer.  The assassin turned to the Halo's crew: "Go to the lifeboats if you wish but you may find this option safer."  Offer made, an unseen signal between the two horrors saw him drawn up to his perch atop the serpent, gripping a bundle of tendrils as if they were the beast's reins.

---

Leenane, sadly was in a far worse situation, having been sleeping below deck with the geyser had torn through it.  Her strawberry hair fell about her neck as she stuggled to her feet, seeking a clue as to her situation.  Dread came quickly; the captain had sailed them directly into an active volcanic hotspot.  What had possessed her to try that?  That was a question that could wait as the surge had wiped out the main ladder, stranding many below deck.

She tried to give orders to the other men, even as barks of panic drowned her out.  She kept at it until the jostling brought an elbow into her face and she tasted blood on her lips.  Reelling, she did not hear the crunch of timbers above as one of the spars above tore loose, falling through the weakened deck above.

A mess of falling wood and other wreckage bore down on her and she almost immediatly lost all feeling in her leg as she was pinned.  Most of the others were too elated by the route to 'safety' to notice the bloodied woman beneath the mess as the clambered back up toward the lifeboats...

@DragonSong

Much like the minstrel, the riders had had the idea to assemble some distance away from the Colonel's tent.  Even as they walked, the pair of visitors might have noticed a handful of men, suited up for combat slipping away from their comrades.  How many rebel Mordecai had secreted themselves among the Guards was impossible to know but either way, Tara and Joshua came about the tall mercenary, surveying the dozen riders that came to organize their horses.

At a nod from one of his men, Wolfram turned before lifting the helm from his head.  "I was wondering when you two would show."  Still holding the reigns of his sturdy destrier, he gestured with a jerk of his head, saying, "These are the men I promised."

Samuel had initially assumed the girl's potion would make some sign of curing her curse; magic itself had been bound to her being and such power could not simply be shed without going somewhere.

Still, the assassin had not expected the upsurge of the girl's magic.  Though he had heeded her adviced before, Samuel darted to the dragon's side, unsure if she was shifting yet or otherwise, and whether she was putting his home in danger.

Drawing a glyph-carved wooden coin from a container at his waist, the demon lord held it between his first fingers as a precaution.  "Do you know what is happening?" he asked.  "Is this the Dragon?"  There were thinks he could do - things his minions could do that might help the girl if need be but that required he know what was happening...

The killer simply nodded to acknowledge Ally's expressed gratitude before attention shifted back toward her project.  He was not exactly sure what to look for regarding the potion's progress and so would have to trust he guest's judgement on the matter.

Samuel moved to the door to pull it open, giving his temporary cohort a chance to retrieve the concoction.

"It's fine," the demonlord assured Ally.  He withdrew his familiar, assuming his curious companion had finished her investigation for the most part.  She seemed suddenly nervous; perhaps her study had inadvertently revealed an embarrassing side of herself...

Samuel decided to wordlessly offer his guest some space, shifting away from her as he found the back of a settee to lean against.  "I don't think they are sentient...at least not the way you or I might consider ourselves sentient."  His gaze slipped high, as though searching for words scribbled on the ceiling.  "In theory, they can't think at all.  Yet, they can read and follow my own thoughts and follow my will with more precision than my real arm."  Though he had hypotheses, as Ally might guess, he kept them to himself, leaving his explanation there for the moment.

( @DragonSong - Sorry for the wait )

Samuel found himself smiling at the girl's curiousity.  It was refreshing to see one who was not belligerent toward toward Demoncraft, even if he became little more than an oddity to them.

Answering in reverse order, even as the creature continued to wripple following her touch, he said, "I can actually feel through them; they have created a facsimile of most of the features of my arm: blood-vessels, nerves, muscles...replacing what was lost...  He paused, not inclined to go deeper into the specifics of that topic.

"We are partner's, after a fashion," Samuel admitted.  "I nurture them and in exchange, they serve me, guided only by my will..."  It was hard to know how much he could tell Ally.  There was danger in sharing too much...And the assassin did not want to traumatize her.

...At least, not just yet...

1. Organization Name
Brotherhood of Saint Laudus (Laudus Brothers)

2. Objective
On its surface, the Brotherhood of St. Laudus is a public fencing academy and fraternity, specializing in the use of several weapons, ranging from daggers and wrestling to long knives, two-handed swords and polearms.  Many of its members can be called upon to act as part of the militia during war.

Below the surface, they are a gang of thugs and hoodlums.  Their skill in the art of combat gives them power over their local community that they can leverage for personal profit.

3. Who may join?
Those living in and around Reahj with an interest in martial excellence.  The fraternity is most interested in young men (and women) unafraid to assert their will over their own

4. Organization Location
Reajh - The Brotherhood maintains an open-air training center with attached office space

5. Current Members and Ranks

Master:

• Ingrid Sauer

Captains:

• Name

Enforcers:

• Name

6. Additional Information
The Brotherhood dabbles in a number of Extralegal affairs, such as racketeering, extortion and bribery.  Despite the "dubious" ethics of its actions, they avoid stepping on toes and have few powerful enemies.  It is sometimes suggested that they have been shielded by the Church or aristocratic interests, but only Ingrid and her closest Confidants know for sure.

Name: Ingrid Sauer
Age: 51
Gender: Female
Species: Human
Ethnicity: Connlaothian
Height: 5'9"
Occupation: Fencer/Gangster/Racketeer
Residence: Reajh

Physical Description
Ingrid is tall for her people, and far slenderer than most as well, narrow at the shoulders and hips.  This along with her long, black (though sporadically graying) hair makes her seem other than Connlaothian, though her pale skin and emerald eyes are a clear sign of her heritage.

Despite her middling age, she almost seems as though she is still in her mid 30's, owing to her activity and exercise.  She is still considered attractive to most, with a straight, proud nose and high cheekbones.  Still, creases have begun to accumulate around her face and her neck and hands have begun showing her age, inspiring her to cover up more.

She favors high collared blouses and close-fitting leggings and can usually be seen with her dagger strapped to her waist.  She will only rarely wear her great-knife, preferring to either carry it by hand or leave it at home to avoid attracting attention.

Personality
At a glance, Ingrid comes across as motherly, affectionate and caring to those she has labeled as her family.  This is generally reserved for her students and the younger women at her old brothel.  She is protective and nurturing and can even become stern if she feels those she cares for could do better with what they have.

Conversely, to those she has deemed an adversary, she is ruthless and Machiavellian.  In the low-level "politics" amid the streets of Reajh, she has few peers and many rivals, and she will use any advantage to control every one of her relationships, including the affection of her "children."

Magic/Abilities

• Messer: A system for fighting with a short sword in one hand, with a focus on cutting.  Well suited to street fights and urban dueling.
• Dagger: A system of fighting using only a dagger, ideal for ambushes, both in performance of and defense against.
• Wrestling: A system of fighting through the use of grapples and holds; useful as a complement to other weapons, but Ingrid finds she lacks the brute strength to stand toe-to-toe against similarly skilled opponents.
• Southpaw: Ingrid is left-handed, favoring the use of her left side in sparring and combat.  This makes her unpredictable in a fight, with most fencers being accustomed to combating right-handed opponents.

Relationships

• Michael Wolfram -  Former student and foster son
• Brotherhood of St. Laudus - Fencing Guild

History
Ingrid was born the daughter of an impoverished prostitute, a fate she would eventually follow once she turned 16.  Though not especially fond of this career, there were few other practical options left open to those in her station, left at the bottom of the social ladder.  She simply learned to shrug off the ire of the well-to-do, content in the knowledge that for all their scorn, those that mocked and "pitied" her still sought her services.

Alongside this early inevitability, Ingrid also studied fencing, particularly with dagger and grappling as skills she might inevitably need to defend herself against future clients.  However, her study did not end there, and as her study continued, she eventually caught the eye of one of her fellow students, promising young swordsman who had plans to establish his own academy.

The pair eventually married, but Ingrid found herself supporting her husband early on as they struggled to accrue the funds needed to secure grounds for their guild.  Ingrid was nearly 28 by the time her husband had founded his school and began taking students.  She stayed at the brothel for another 4 years, even while moonlighting as a weapons instructor until she felt she could afford to leave her former profession.

This gave way to a comfortable life until her husband's death in a duel against a rival master.  Widowed without children, Ingrid inherited the acadamy, become sole owner and master in place of her husband.  She already had a reputation by this point and experience in the guilds other dealings so it was not hard to take up her husband's mantle.

Still, without any children of her own, she has taken to fostering children in search of a potential heir to preserve her late husband's system and school.

---

Current Threads

Complete Threads

He had no issue with the girl touching the creature, and the being had little real will of its own.  "Go ahead," he offered, holding the black arm toward Ally.  The black, leathery substance would shiver and ripple under her touch but aside from its uncanny nature, there seemed little remarkable about the thing unless Samuel chose to reveal it...

"I suppose adventure is as good a reason as any."  Still, his associate's words quickly gave way to her curiousity, and the adventurer sorted through her questions, guaging how best to respond.  "I guess for me, this is more a matter of curiosity.  I'm..."  What should he call himself; What was Samuel Nevin to the island girl.  "I dabble in academics."  Vague, but close enough to true to serve his needs.

Finally, the demonologist got around to his introduction; "Samuel Nevin; a pleasure to meet you."

---

Elsewhere below deck, far enough away to be ignored, Leenane had been given the unenviable task of wrangling the unruly passengers and giving them work just to keep them out of trouble.

She had not really planned to put the Connlaothian anywhere in particular but he had volunteered his experience.  Turning to him, the sailor nodded, "Aye, you can be carpenter's mate.  Plenty o' wood workin' that needs doing on a ship at sea.  Good to have a second set of hands makin' repairs."

Shifting her attention to the troublemaking mage, she continued.  "You on the other hand; my guess is you got know skills to speak of other than being a right toss, so might as well put yer hands to better use, swabbing the deck every day."  Turning to the brothers, she added, "Same goes for you pair, the rest o' the crew will be right glad to leave such singular work in all your capable hands.  Except you," she added singling out the one the captain had dragged down.  "Boss wants you as far from her as possible, so you'll be muckin' the bilge."

Obvious problem elements spoken for (unless they had a paticular problem with their asignments) Leenane's attention shifted to the other's present.  The one with the blindfold she almost doubted she could put anywhere, same held true for the seasick youth.  They had not really done anything terrible either and she felt the urge to just leave them be.  The larger man, "Wilbur, right?"  She had vaguely heard the name amid the commotion.  "If you feel like pulling your weight, you might be able to run line topside.  It came as more an offer than an order.