"Lifting the Veil" - Petrichor || Althea

It had been months since the escape from Hatchet’s Hovel. All she wanted for herself and those around her was distance and to forget about everything that had happened as much as possible. Yet no one would let her forget, Alternis’ presence was unwelcome and barely tolerable as he kept toying with William’s golden bracer in his hands. He and his compatriots were responsible for killing The Order. The sting of losing Thrn’k would dull then become a knife’s edge again, revived by those who knew him and those responsible for his death, at least from her perspective. She resolves to put it aside, to focus on what he would’ve wanted--but her internal nature of holding grudges and deep hate keeps winning out. The demons don’t let her sleep and keep the fire stoked, building the hatred. Without him, she doesn’t have the capability to forgive and forget. Although she could be malleable if given the guidance, she became withdrawn and let the trauma fester. She didn’t know how to cope. The Order lets her be, for the most part. Asher seems to have more sense that Althea could do better by not shutting down after Thrn’k’s passing, but he too has a hard time quelling her need for payback and revenge.
The snow drift pools around her feet, ankles, and calves as the tundra seemed determined to bury her where she stood at the opening of the gates of Free Heimal. Behind her, a small collection of wooden buildings creaking and straining under the weight of the snow and the unforgiving wind of the Northern Tundra. “How the fuck did we end up in this frozen hell hole”, she hisses, kicking her feet free of the snow. Leonestro de Velv had approached the survivors of The Order and offered something that Althea just jumped at the opportunity for. Of course, the promise of revenge would always entice her… The steps seemed simple: head to the North, establish a homestead and lure in the Crimson Army. There.. The Drow would assist and crush the army. The snow stings her face, but she’s somewhere else completely in her mind as Althea instinctively snarls and clenches her fist around her dagger as she recalls spitting out Alternis’ name as she told Leo that he would be tortured at her hands alone for the rest of eternity--not even death would be fitting for him. She blinks and glares against the biting wind, trying to ground herself from the intrusive thoughts and forcibly releases the death grip on the hilt of her dagger, one finger at a time.
There, in the distance. The shadow of approaching figures, as she had been expecting. The slow, tired trudge, she recognized immediately. Not a friend, nor a foe--more of a distant acquaintance.. Sahlrek draws near, with a cadre of hulking pit fiends escorting him. Althea stands her ground, her scarf drawn up against her face, yellow eyes glinting through the snowfall. “It’s been a while, Sahlrek”, she drawls, her facial expression more disdainful than welcoming. Tired looking as ever, he draws closer and demands.. “How many are here..”. She settles back on her heels, feeling a streak of indignity as he does not greet her and lets his question go unanswered. “How many are here?”, he gains an edge to his voice. Althea raises a brow at him and looks behind herself mockingly, what the fuck is up his ass now? “Maybe a dozen or so..” she says lazily, seeing him get agitated and gesturing for his escort to take a look around.
“What do you need, Sahlrek”, her patience is growing thin and the cold is beginning to seep through her coat. She pulls down her scarf slightly to speak more clearly when he replies in greeting. Instinctively, she scratches at her new Glasgow smile scars, the latest gift from her Goddess for stepping out of line. Sticking her neck out for others seemed to be a very bad habit, to say the least as an assassin. He sighs at her and she scoffs at his look of pity. Did he come to the Tundra to stare at her disfigurement? Her left eyelid, wrenched open with 3 silver hooks, 3rd degree burn scars all over her face and body, countless other mutilations are a sight to behold, the smile is just a latest unwilling addition. Her pose stiffens as he inquires about her Goddess, as if he fucking cares. “It’s nothing I cannot handle; quickly let’s get away from the cold. I’m fucking freezing”, she growls.
She shoves everyone who is outside clamoring at the new visitors, into the Lodge. Finally away from the cold, she gruffly gestures for everyone to sit and be comfortable, setting some tea to boil. She fucking sucks at entertaining guests, and she knows it. Asher is hardly better considering who the guest is and the two can’t help making slight remarks at Sahlrek’s expense. Having not yet come down from their paranoid high from their trip to Jedor, The Order was increasingly loopy and out of sorts. “Are we even sure he’s real,” Asher whispers snidely to Althea, pointing at Sahlrek underneath the table. “Thelise is better at this”, she thought grimly, sipping hot tea, much preferring some alcohol at this point but it’d be better not to let her guard down..
The grave cleric is fucking bonkers, she’s concluded. He has no reason to be here, yet he is, at the behest of Synn, so he says. His line of questioning and lack of answers to her questions makes her grow impatient and increasingly cross. What right does he have to poke into The Order’s business in the North… She recalls when they first collaborated, a lofty idea he had pitched and a naive plan she signed up for. Never again would she let him skirt around her questions. “I do not understand your urgency and why we’re involved whatsoever,'' she gestures to The Order. Sahlrek looks exasperated but she gives no flying fucks. The conversations go nowhere and Althea is content in stonewalling him until he says… “I’m here to meet with the children of fire…”, now this piqued her interest and angered her slightly. “You said you were here alone. What’s this about the children of fire now..” she glowered.
Lo and behold, two pureblood, precious Yesharians breach the perimeter shortly after. Their reasons for being are even more obscure than Sahlreks’. Playing hostess doesn’t suit her, Althea struggles to be civil, remembering these two from The Order’s past on their trip to Lisbon. Her words are scathing and their blank looks only serve to infuriate her further. “You could use us as a guide to the mountain…?”, she says in disbelief at the two Fire Birds. The slight stings, but they clearly don’t see how they have offended her. “What the fuck is in it for us!” She spits out. Nemia and Deku gain their composure before she does and appeases her questioning with some information..
Althea is predictable, easy to lure, one just needs the right bait. The Jedor assassin planted the seed in their minds that there was a resurrection stone out there--on the mountain. Althea remembers the assassin’s sickly gross finger pointing towards the snowy mountain while sitting in the lodge that night. As Althea looks in the direction, she sees the mountain but then her eyes focus on her own reflection in the glass, the hard stare unsettling herself. There’s a look of wildness, desperation, and pain in her face. Is it enough, she thinks to herself, to go on a fool’s errand with a bunch of strangers up the mountain? Of course it is. Anything for Thrn’k, anything to bring back the light of her life. She looks across to The Order, and recognizes a similar resolve, most strongly in Asher. He has maintained a steady level of alcohol in his blood since the passing and she observes how worn he is as well.
Nemia and Deku’s presence begins to draw in pilgrims, coming to see them as it had been foretold. Althea, being put in the uncomfortable hostess position increasingly more struggles to control her temper. Thelise, ever gracious and smooth welcomes them with open arms to the church and provides lodging. Delta serves the entire township dinner. Despite the hospitality, something seemed amiss.
Gruffly, reluctantly, The Order, The Fire Birds, and Sahlrek trek up the mountain. Keeping her head on a swivel, Althea just knows it’s a damn trap. Nothing is ever as easy as it seems, and nobody can be trusted. She rubs her temples, trying to steel herself in reality and not lose her sanity. She barks at the group and explains as best she can that there’s a lot at stake, fucking around with a resurrection stone. She argues that going to Jedor or Yeshai first is the right move, we need to have a clear mind, unfettered and uncluttered.
Nothing is ever as easy as it seems. Everybody is scattered within the mountainous cave and the tunnels within, a macabre sight of pilgrims who had ventured ahead of them are strewn on the floor, innards forming symbols, a foreboding scene. Time and time again, Althea is choosing to save her comrade’s asses, taking hits instead of hitting. She snarls, her flesh hooks extending from her back, dragging Zirael away from the stone gargoyle in the basement when she hears a cackling behind her, Thelise gleefully closing the door, locking them in and darting away. The mischievous glint in his yellow eyes, she’s not even surprised at his behavior. Asher, however had been keen to finally turn his blade upon Thelise for his treachery. Thelise’s failure to protect Althea yet again was a great enough offense to deserve death in his eyes. The swing should’ve completely removed Thelise’s head, but is pitifully stopped by a single finger as Thelise raises his hand to block. By the time she’s able to scramble to meet up with the group, Thelise has already descended to the depths below, fulfilling his life’s greatest duty… The explosion of power, raw energy, and feeling of heaviness is all consuming. Jaded, tired, angry, and ready to die, Althea witnesses Thelise raise hell itself and bring back Rhexus as the Avatar of The Great Devourer. The glow coming from the pit sears her eyes, she looks at Sahlrek, broken on the ground, missing his scythe, her comrades behind her running around like chickens, Asher in the distance looking for the exit. Time is slowing down, she feels a sense of failure, betrayal, sinking in that they did not resurrect Thrn’k. But the fucking choice wasn’t even hers to make, the resurrection necklace was not in the mountain at all for anyone to find but had always been around Thelise’s neck--unbeknownst to even him until they reached the epicenter. Sahlrek had had conversations circling the topic but no one ever asked Althea what she thought of The Great Devourer. “It’s just another being. Nothing more, nothing less,” she thinks and she shuts her eyes as the blinding light engulfs everyone.


The snow is cold, suffocating, and comforting. “Let me die here”, she thinks to herself. Althea stays in her snow cocoon a beat longer, unwilling to face reality. She lifts her head up, back in Heimal, her ears ring and the light off the snow makes her squeeze her eyes shut in pain. Her brain restarts with a jolt as she hears an impending scuffle. Asher is upset. Althea is trying to quell his anger, a new look for her. “Thrn’k was too fucking good for this world. How could we ever bring him back to this fucking shit hole”, she’s screaming at him now. Her words are falling on deaf ears, she’s such a shitty orator, fighting is so much easier.
He refuses to defend himself against her, and Althea just becomes more angry as he refuses to lay down his weapon to talk instead. She screams at him to yield, but he persists. Althea turns her blade upon him, and it scars her mentally to do it. Asher, bloodied, cut, and barely standing, Althea sets the tip of her dagger beneath his chin and between gritted teeth, says coldly, “I said, yield.” In a moment she’d never forget for the rest of her life, his eyes glance down and emotionlessly meet hers and he sinks his chin down a little on her blade in refusal. She’s shocked, but resolves to cut him down to size and render him useless with non-lethal slices.
He simply knows her too well and lets her rage fizzle out, knowing that she’s taking as much damage as he is. She sinks to the snow when she’s spent, bleeding. Kellen rushes to his aid and heals him up, giving him the ability to finish Thelise off. Asher gets to his feet, Althea barely alive thanks to her own doing, as he heads to Thelise and whips off his mask. Sahlrek is sprawled on the steps of the church, barely alive, delirious. Althea pretends not to care, she pretends not to see. But succumbs to her own stupid feelings and gives him one of her health potions, trying to be nonchalant. He’s losing himself slowly, surely, unrecognizable from when she first met him. What could she expect, everything he knows has been turned upside down.
It is a horrific time. The knowledge that the world is speeding towards an impending doom, does she embrace it, does she hasten it, or does she subvert… Asher cannot fathom Althea’s train of thought. Is her need for power, revenge, really this strong? Is this what Thrn’k would’ve wanted? It doesn’t matter now, not to her. All that matters is what does she want. She acts on her own now, and she needs the firepower and strength to strike back. He looks at her, in grim amazement.
“Don’t you see? We can actually have the power to enact change, to get revenge against Draxus. It’s been nothing but cheap talk since we have been in The Order. When are we actually going to do something.” Join me, she beseeches Asher. Together they could finally grind him into the dirt like he had done to so many magic users, innocents, and bystanders. We could finally make him pay for Thrn’k. It seems that her appetite for vengeance is stronger than his at this most important hour. She can’t afford to keep protecting, she claims. It just rubs her the wrong way, killing is so much easier. He pauses a beat and shakes his head, unsure if she really understands what path he’s going to embark on. She keeps waving off the conversation, set on the thought that he’s headed towards Draxus, already having chosen his poison. He looks at her seriously and says, “Thea, I haven’t forgotten the things that man did.. I hold onto those grudges as strongly as you..”. She looks at him sadly, seeing that they have chosen two different evils. She simply can’t work with Draxus. “You do realize, if I were to leave with you to help Draxus, he’d have me strung up and shackled for the rest of my life? That’s what I’d do if I were him,” she looks pensive but convinced of this. She’s resolved to working with Thelise, Asher doesn’t see her logic of playing the mole. He shakes her, “Are you kidding me Thea? You’ll get yourself killed”. That’s not new, and neither of the evils are great, but perhaps we can get rid of all of them, she thinks to herself. “We’re all just working with borrowed time”,” her words echo and he repeats it. The blood is hot in her face as she imagines Asher working alongside Draxus and the Crimson Army. May they not see one another across the battlefield frequently, they both pray. She shakes her head of the feeling and resolves with him that it’s better for her to not be close to others anymore. Nothing good comes of these relationships, her heart aches from this conversation. She’s not accustomed to these feelings, these gestures, this emotional toll on her psyche. She lays a gentle hand on Asher’s shoulder, a first time exchange of voluntary physical contact. His eyes betray shock at the gesture and he returns it. Her eyes glaze as she struggles to maintain her composure and eye contact with her best friend. “I’d lay my life down for you in a heartbeat. That’s all I’ve got for you.” He lets the words sink in and he reflects on the changes--emotionally and physically she’s undergone, seeing young Althea for a moment before snapping back into the moment. The arcane tattoos on his forearm glow with a faint white light and his voice is pleasantly clear in Althea’s head: “I’m not abandoning you”. She nods and turns away, and cries on her own. It’s painful to hear her deepest fears from another person. She’s too close to him, and fears for his life. She’s not worth saving, she never was.
It’s silly and wondrous, she muses to herself as she watches Asher depart with Elghhn Velv and Kellen in tow… Not that long ago she was asking Elghhn to mentor Asher, and now so much has changed. So many have committed to maintain the town.. And she turns her eyes to the patrons who are still living their lives in Heimal. She doesn’t have the energy to forge another relationship, only for it to end in misery. She tracks mysterious disturbances around the town, Thelise in tow.. Delta is getting too close for comfort. It tugs at her heartstrings--but she knows she cannot afford this vulnerability. How could she ever live up to her calling and stop being a slave to her emotions. Where did this come from, she feels a sense of warmth as Delta confesses her love for her, but then a cold fear washes over her. She cannot commit to this feeling, this comfort and warmth only for it to be taken from her. This druid, also too good for this world… Althea can’t bear to see any pain come to her. She feels herself suffering from the trauma once again and she musters up as much emotion as she can to return Delta’s feelings within her limits. Is this right? Or am I just going to hurt her… The latter is a safer assumption. Althea embraces Delta, knowing that their time is coming to a close, that this may conceivably be the last time Delta sees her alive. The more distance, the better.
When Thelise informs the generals that they must leave, Althea is relieved, ready to take her burdens elsewhere. She is pleasantly numb, when the goliath, Aldrich, joins Thelise’s charge. They don’t get along and it’s better that way. Despite how many times she repeats her own name, he simply does not comprehend or bother to fucking remember. “Fucking imbecile..” she grumbles and then snaps as she watches the taciturn looking goliath reach towards Lilith, the displacer beast. She smirks as Lilith gives him an obligatory sniff before completely snubbing his presence, twitching her barbed tentacles testily. “I’ll become your friend yet, Lilith,” comes a deep gravelly rumble from the conquest paladin. “HOW THE FUCK DO YOU REMEMBER MY FAMILIARS NAME BUT NOT MINE,” Althea screeches in the tavern.
She feels the need to keep her distance from Sahlrek now as in a wild turn of events--their relationship or situation is now the longest standing in the present group. She’s observed his descent into madness, but also sees sparks of his old self and sense of balance return occasionally. She watches his struggle and can’t help but feel for his plight, ostracized and misunderstood. Those around him doubted him and didn’t heed his warnings, which led to ruin. It must be tiring to be the bearer of bad news but it was the truth regardless of if people wished to come to terms with it or not. He’s lost all sense of his way, until now, she muses. Abandoned by his goddess, misled by everything he thought he knew. Into Thelise’s waiting arms. They used to have varying viewpoints, but look now. Both backing Thelise, for different reasons.
When it’s finally her turn for a conversation with Thelise, he seems to want to test her humanity. Proposing a hunt before she assumes a place of leadership within his ranks. She doesn’t balk at the request, after all the Goddess of Death has been pressuring her to deliver almost every chance possible. Althea whets her daggers outside the church, contemplating her next actions as a future general. Certainly this will put her closer to her goals than ever before. Previously, it was just talk and no action.. But with this power, with a house, she could finally get the revenge she so desperately wanted.
The group heads out, following the directions Thelise lays out to them for The Great Devourer calls to him.. They pass by Fort Thorne and Althea is drawn in to the large tree that towers near the entrance. Stepping around the far reaching roots carefully, she happens upon a familiar portrait and set of items. Silently she looks upon Ashur Sr. and recognizes Asher’s rapier. Sensing her quiet anxiety, Sahlrek wordlessly gathers the items and deposits them in Althea’s hands. She looks down upon the rapier, glinting in the sunlight and holds it tightly--strapping it to her back after waiting far too long in her reverie. The group presses on towards Thelise’s calling.
Sahlrek stills outside the bog, looking beyond it towards a wide reaching tree. Stepping into the area, Althea slumps down to her knees, feeling all strength leave her. Aldrich unceremoniously hoists her over his shoulder like a ragdoll and continues heading towards the tree, he and Sahlrek seemed unaffected. In equally unceremonious manner, Aldrich drops her from his 7 foot shoulder to the ground in front of a modest hut located in the center. Althea wheezes, struggling to catch her breath while looking up at the leaves and branches above. She curses at Aldrich for being so reckless and struggles to her feet before crossing the threshold of the hut where a black inky smoke is drawn from her body. “You are now free of Jedor…” the witch says slowly, her hands in front of her concentrating as she dispels both Althea and Thelise of their curses.
Althea’s quest for power is neverending, she can never be strong enough but her fears are easy to read… She is fucking weak, she is undeserving, she is unfit to be an assassin… The witch in the hut takes one look at the cards that Althea draws and speaks the truth she is unwilling to hear. She is doomed to be alone, the path she walks will be lonely on her quest for knowledge. Internally, Althea feels cold, unwilling to sever the connections that make her vulnerable. She holds onto the hope that Asher will reach out to her, and that the rest of The Order is safe somewhere. She quietly stows away her card and suppresses intrusive thoughts, leaving behind a single flower in thanks for the witch. Outside and beyond the hut is a suitable distraction as Krauk suddenly appears without a word. The menacing figure of the Avatar behind him. “Prove your worth,” she hears, and it immediately makes her grit her teeth in anger. “I’m always being made to prove something, I’m always on the backfoot and scraping by for every inch gained.” She immediately gets into a defensive position, choosing to stealth around the bits of wreckage in the village and keeping an eye on the enemy.
The fight is hard and unrelenting, and Krauk never seems worse for wear despite their tactics. Aldrich gives him a fearful look and suddenly Krauk stiffens and falls to his back. Ever the opportunist, Althea moves into a position to attack when she hears an unfamiliar female voice behind the group. Sitting astride a large golem, Nabs appears, with a recognizable green gem dug deep into her chest. “Release him,” is all she says, with a hard eye. Still feeling ready for a fight, Althea does not back down. A little more convincing was all she needed as she spots Ivren in the clearing beyond Krauk. She scoffs and looks unamused at her mentor who has been more of a nuisance than any help. She cracks her knuckles and mumbles about his attack abilities that he so kindly did not bequeath upon her. Aldrich cannot resist punching Krauk one more time in the face. The trio Krauk, Nabs and Ivren seem to have taken a very sudden change of heart from their original alliances with Draxus. Althea is perplexed as they explain how they wish to leave the lands and head South.. But the Avatar clearly has other plans in mind for some of them...
Pressing forward, the group finds themselves in Ghayri. Thelise’s conniving ways are rubbing off on Althea, she conceives a plan to masquerade as someone she’s seen before. Tying her hair back, she touches her face and a warm glow seeps from the palms of her hand as she transforms from head down into Mavia. She cracks her neck and looks down at her hands, changing from their mottled purple hue into a fairer tone. She strides up to Aldrich and rubs the dirt away from his armor with her sleeve to peer at herself. Mavia stares back at her with a hard eye, her expression turns into a laugh, chuckling at how it feels to look normal for once. Sahlrek looks unimpressed, Althea’s mannerisms don’t match Mavia’s and could use a lot of work. He briefly gives her a lesson on his previous comrade and Althea internalizes as much as possible but realizes quickly that they are total opposites.. “Tie up your hair,” Sahlrek mumbles. She quickly gathers her messy hair into something resembling a ponytail and continues to pelt him with questions regarding her mannerisms and family life. “This is going to be a fucking shit show, how can anyone be that chipper and cheery..” Althea prepares for the worst and hopes that her poor acting skills will not be called to the test.
Althea quickly hides herself into the shadow upon arrival to the Graniteheart doors, unwilling to be put to the test so soon. Following Sahlrek’s slow shuffle into the heart of operation, she observes the dwarves around her and recognizes King Hester. It becomes apparent that Sahlrek alone cannot convince Hester or the engineers for some reason and as he steps back to convene with the group, Althea slinks into his shadow and offers to assist. In an unguarded hallway, she leaves the shadows and refreshes her magical mask of many faces to meet with Sahlrek, Aldrich and Thelise. Pouring as much of her energy into a peppy and excited tone, Althea pipes up and greets King Hester with open arms, pinching his ruddy cheeks and chiding him on his weight loss. Hester and the head engineers look taken aback at Mavia’s sudden appearance, but don’t question it very closely. Mavia’s voice joins the cacophony of worries regarding her children in the capitol among other matters. She demands for immediate action to be taken and gestures quickly to sign whatever paperwork and red tape is needed to be on their way.
Althea/Mavia observes King Hester’s capacity for hate and notices it seems to match her own. He speaks with anger in his voice, asking for a Sahlrek for a shot at Draxus. Unable to convince him of any other destination to head to, the group takes off with him and a large number of warforged on an airship. Althea/Mavia squeals excitedly, setting off to name each one alongside Aldrich. Testing his palette for surprise, Aldrich removes his helm, revealing the goliath tattoos as well as the Yesharian related one around his eye. Gauging his response, Althea decides to come clean, intending to reveal her disguise to Hester. He immediately tosses a torn pouch towards her. Althea deftly catches it but does not understand the meaning, turning it over in her hands. King Hester says, “You cannot be Mavia, she’d have mended that immediately.” A purple glow starting from her extremities begins to travel up her limbs, revealing purple, burned skin until finally Althea’s face is revealed. King Hester looks unsurprised by her presence and they spend a beat looking at one another. Sahlrek explains that there would’ve never been any other way to get Graniteheart to take action. Althea watches Hester’s reactions closely and decides to explain her origin with The Order and the role that Draxus played. They find commonality in their hate for the king and the commitment for revenge as they near the capitol… He gives her valuable information about The Order and his role in founding it, House Velv, and her weapons. But more importantly, she begins to learn the origin of the Drow..
Although far from her friends and old home, Althea recognized how close she was to a few of her goals, racing towards the capitol which was burning from the riots. As they aimed the airship artillery towards The Herald, she could feel a madness seeping into her bones, seeing him reduced to pink mist by their cannons, abruptly ending the one sided slaughterfest he was on. Her eyes look wild and deliriously happy as her laughter is ill timed in their situation. But she doesn’t give two fucks anymore, no one has spoken sense to her in awhile--she left that up to Asher. There is now no influence other than her own, and she grows heady with power. She drinks in the chaos and wreckage, looking closely at Sahlrek while he gives firing orders, taking special care to not hit the combatants on the ground…
The Amethyst wyrm showing up was definitely a surprise along with the matriarch druid alongside it, but not the others that accompanied it. She observed Kellen and Vex on a smaller blue dragon fleeing the site, acknowledging a difference in opinion, not that long ago they had run away to the Tundra together but that was in the past now… She had tried to help them in her own ways, but they were on divergent paths now. There was no time to reflect or think, dodging the Wyrm’s breath weapons was work enough. The Wyrm opens her gaping maw and communicates that a promise was broken. Althea slowly starts putting two and two together, looking between Sahlrek and King Hester: the Graniteheart tech. It was forbidden and dangerous, but it was existent now thanks to the dwarves and those who had led them to make weaponry. Althea looks down at her freshened up Mavia disguise and feels the dragon painting a target upon her body for looking like one of The Hunted. King Hester looks unphased, and deftly sets the ship on a suicide mission straight into his building of choice. He had prepared to not make a return trip, succumbing to the force breath, looking stern but resolute in his decision making. Althea looks behind her, airship speeding quickly towards Draxus’ tower, and ahead of her where a snarling but hurt Amethyst Wyrm was flying in pursuit, claws dug into the back of the airship. Aldrich lifts a heavy hand and in a deep resounding voice that cuts through all other noise: “RELEASE.” The Wyrm complies with his command and lets go, wings beating but her eyes glazed over in a stupor as she temporarily forgets her purpose. The group works to make the most of the situation before abandoning ship to crash into the stone tower. Fuselage rained down from the sky as every manner of explosive left upon the ship ignited and incinerated the tower. The chaos around her made her ears ring, but she could’ve died happy right then. Touching down on the ground, she looked around herself and slapped herself back into reality--surrounded by flames, rubble, panicking civilians and looters, with a dragon running rampant.
“That fucking lich Draxus will be back,” she whispered, “And I will enjoy making him pay again and again.” But first, to survive this rampaging Amethyst dragon…She coughs and holds her side feeling some wounds but nothing fatal. Sahlrek seems to have landed beside her, utilizing thunderstep to cushion the landing a bit with her in his arms. He looks tired per usual and unsurprised at the turn of events as he addresses some of her wounds. Her cracked ribs begin to heal up and she takes the opportunity to survey the rubble and ruins which are mostly on fire. Managing to find their way into a lower level free of active fires, Thelise and Aldrich show up in the same area. The gargantuan Amethyst dragon moves just 80-100 feet away, covering the known area of exit according to Sahlrek. “Well, if it’s a fucking fight she wants, it’s a fucking fight we’ll give her,” Althea whispers. Although blinded, the Amethyst wyrm could still appropriate their location with her sense of smell and hearing as she prepares a force breath. Althea, sticky fingered as usual is caught out of position and is stowing away an unknown relic from a nearby chest. Her breath hitches and she presses herself as flat as possible against the nearby rubble, hoping to get some cover from the deadly force. But it never comes, Althea whips her head to look behind her as Thelise is the victim of a few attacks. She looks to Thelise, Sahlrek, and Aldrich recognizing the opportunity is now if they are to survive, running is not an option. Aldrich runs into position, close to the Wyrm’s foot before striking with surprising force and bestows her with a terrible curse, stymying her every action with the help of Althea’s hex. Althea makes eye contact with Sahlrek and points at the dragon’s head. She dashes in his direction and as soon as she arrives, he utilizes Thunderstep, teleporting them onto the beast. Althea’s flesh hooks emerge from her shoulder blades, bloodied, and stab into the wyrm’s hide, firmly anchoring her in place. Sahlrek follows suit behind her and summons his scythe which he stabs into the wyrm to similarly hold steady. She readied her attack while Sahlrek prepared the Wyrm’s final rites. Upon his last word, her yellow eyes flash open and with renewed vigor, she digs her legendary dagger down into the beast repeatedly, Sahlrek’s channel divinity imbuing her attacks with increased ferocity. She feels her multiple attacks also stacking against her own well being and she eventually stops, close to death. Aldrich takes advantage of the chaos happening at the dragon’s head and continues hacking away at her vulnerable underbelly, striking with deadly precision and force. The screams of pain and impending death coming from the dragon shatters her ear drums and the wyrm begins to move erratically, desperate to shield herself from the onslaught of damage. Althea and Sahlrek hold on with all their might, she spends most of her time keeping her head low where she then spots a horrific and awesome sight below her. Thelise, not Thelise as she’s ever seen him before, calm as ever, stands to his feet and invites the Dragon to be his meal. Wide eyed and surprised, Althea quickly realizes what’s to happen just as an enormous maw begins to emerge from the center of Thelise’s body, full of teeth and seemingly no end. The teeth in the maw move in concentric circles and it’s dizzying to look at. Althea spends another beat looking at the blender for a mouth and quickly she and Sahlrek beat a hasty retreat off of the Wyrm as she begins to get consumed by Thelise.
Aldrich, Sahlrek and Althea cannot do anything more than look straight up at the sky where a gargantuan Amethyst wyrm is being consumed from the bottom up. Blood rains down from above them as the meal is a messy one. Their gaze lowers as the dragon becomes shorter, smaller, more insignificant until all that can be seen is Thelise, patting his stomach. A loud burp is all that can be heard amongst the smoldering fire, a ringing in her ears as this is silence compared to the awful shrieking just moments before. Out of his mouth comes a collection of scales, bones, and a dragon molar which Aldrich happily scuttles to and pats appreciatively, speaking of a new Alphorn. Althea wipes the dragon blood out of her eyes and spits.
Amongst the wreckage, something white and glittering catches her eyes. Althea slowly picks up a fragmented porcelain mask from the rubble, thumbing over a glittering teardrop diamond dripping from one eye. She holds it up to her face and fits it in with her existing mask fragments. She feels a presence behind her and turns to see a young Yesharian girl, giggling at her. It’s the sign she’s been waiting for, House Dawnveil will be born today… She looks down at her distinctly Yesharian appearance reflecting in a nearby puddle, but winces at the previous memories of being ostracized by the Yesharian purebloods, spit on by the Drow, and resolves to become anew… Her burned skin smoothes, dark tattoos bleed from her eyes, the porcelain mask rearranges around her jaw and forms into another set of fangs, the hooks that the Goddess dug into her eyes recede and the Glasgow smile closes without a trace. She feels a sense of coldness on the tips of her fingers and like ink staining a tablecloth, the black tattoo seeps from her fingertips to her arm and smoothly transitions into her purple skin. Her robes change into a dark blue with gold accents, and her onyx bracer feels useless now, but she transforms it into a choker adorned with a red gem. The final touch, her house symbol affixes the white Order cloak to one shoulder and she stands, after finalizing her transformation.
She cracks her fingers and neck, waiting for an opportunity to test her new ability… As she opens her eyes again, emerging from the smoke appear thirteen individuals, of differing classes, creeds, races… “Ah, the rest of your generals have arrived..” she muses to Thelise who simply smiles and nods. She begins to feel the ties loosen to her Goddess, she kneels down with her eyes closed, reaching out one last time to Death. “Oh merciful Goddess of Death, I beseech your graciousness for knowledge of what lies before us..” she quietly whispers into her clasped hands. The immense feeling of pressure coupled with a bone chilling cold, fills her psyche and Althea knows the Goddess has answered her prayers…
“The pale moon festival is occurring up North. I have some business to tie up there, friends.” Thelise and Sahlrek nod, acknowledging her free will. Aldrich is seen stuffing his face with dragon meat, which she immediately feels nauseated witnessing. “It does not taste like chicken, you lying motherfucker…” Althea turns her attention towards her trip back to Free Heimal but not before grabbing a new set of clothes, weaponry, makeup, to disguise herself.
Approaching the all familiar gates of Free Heimal, Althea finishes her disguise as Shannon, a young woman with mousy brown hair and a bow slung over her shoulder. She quiets her mind and assumes a completely different personality. Wandering into the Golden Bracer Tavern, Althea/Shannon reminds herself to not be sentimental, she showed up for the event and to converse with an old friend or two… Approaching the bar, she strikes up conversation with Alderly. She makes it a point to be clumsy, overly loud, and extremely chipper with a bad sense of impropriety. Upon getting a free moment with Alderly, she drops her disguise but truly is excited to meet with an old friend again. She offers for him to leave Free Heimal and take his brewery on the road but he requires time to consider this venture. During a hunting trip, they fell a deer and upon returning to the tavern, are approached by new and old patrons.
Althea/Shannon bites her tongue as Zirael, Daisy, and someone unfamiliar step into the tavern, along with Pardus and a new acquaintance, Dave. It proves a little difficult for her to keep up the ruse of light heartedness as she can’t help but wonder why Talion is not with her former comrades. She pushes it all to the back of her mind after Jedor begins their usual pattern of mind fuckery with the use of drugs. Althea/Shannon forcefully pushes Alderly out of the tavern with the source of the drugs and warns him of House Jedor. Before long, the town is in disarray and it becomes clear that no one was prepared for the Jedorians to show their ugly faces. Althea/Shannon respect Alderly’s wishes to speak with the Jedorians again while she hides in the shadow of Created’s burnt down tower, prepared to strike should they attack Alderly. Sitting patiently in the dark, she is unsurprised when they threaten him and leave. Placing a hand on Alderly’s shoulder, Althea/Shannon tries to calm him down and devise a plan to leave. “House Jedor is bad news for this city, we need to leave to fight another day. The last time they came, some individuals were never freed of their phantasmal force my friend, let’s not be foolish.”
Commotion from the direction of the tavern grabs both of their attentions and Althea/Shannon can barely manage her disguise further as she watches Pardus and her old comrades set fire to the Golden Bracer. Utterly furious at their actions she can only curse in her head watching them burn her homestead to the ground. They’re fucking fools. It’s not a fucking spider you can just burn the house down to get rid of, yet these grown ass men are just lighting fires like children with matches. She tears her eyes away from them and pushes Alderly to leave, “It’s just a location, it can be rebuilt.” As she’s pushing Alderly through the snow, she hears her name repeatedly, “Shannon, Shannon! Wait!” “Gods, I don’t know how much more of this charade I can maintain,” Althea/Shannon thinks to herself before gruffly saying “What is it?” The Crimson Army soldier looks at her, perplexed and repeats himself. “If you’ve got nothing for me, I’m moving on,” Althea/Shannon pushes past the soldier’s outstretched arm and further down the path. “STOP! Stop right there!” the soldier exclaims at her, behind him another 5 or so have showed up, including a captain. “What the fuck is going on, leave me be,” Althea/Shannon growls in response, starting to lose her patience. The captain brandishes a glaive in her direction and shouts “Fiend!” Althea raises both brows at the 6 in front of her and begins putting distance between them, pushing Alderly behind her, preparing for a fight regardless of the odds. “These people are fucking bonkers and it’s all because of Jedor…” she grits her teeth and calls for Lilith to prepare for a fight. The 6 assailants break into a run, heading right in her direction. Althea activates her rings and with a hand on Alderly, pushes him further down the path and ducks into the side, slamming him flat against a tree to try to get some cover. Her stealth is so high, there’s no way that they’d find her at this point, she muses to herself. To her surprise, the assailants continue to look directly at her. Lilith leaves Althea’s shadow next to her and Althea instructs her to flank the enemy on her command. Lilith breaks rank and begins to sit off to the side, grooming herself while Althea is utterly perplexed as to the situation at hand. The assailants appear to be at odds however, they stand for a while, pointing in her direction but conversing before the wizard of the group begins casting to restrain her. “I’ve fucking had enough,” she seethes and moves to strike the enemy but suddenly faerie fire streaks out from a drow in the group, their hands lit up with a flickering colorful hue that dances on the snow before streaking her direction and giving away her position.
She stares Dave in the face, unsure of their intent nor the situation that led them to commit these actions. The group no longer assume offensive positions, and begin to take their leave. Althea does not linger a second longer to question anything that just happened, turns her attention back to Alderly who looks as perplexed as her. They continue their way towards the Capitol, not before Althea spots a Jedor assassin sitting casually on the Heimal gates. Althea flips her off gleefully but also recognizes that she and Alderly must make haste towards the Capitol in the hopes of freeing themselves of Jedor’s curse...
Dragging her tired feet back into the Capitol with Alderly in tow, she quickly makes introductions to Sahlrek and Aldrich before explaining their sticky predicament. Arvid, a dwarf shows up in the Capitol, also travelling from the Pale Moon event to find Althea, to her surprise. He speaks of Daisy, describes the individuals he helped in the North in exchange for information about warforged. Althea listens to his story and sits back on her heels, “Are you prepared for the unknown and frankly unimaginable sacrifice you’ll have to make in order to get what you want?” she looks closely at Arvid. He seems stout in his decision and she sighs, agreeing to help him in any way that she can, after all she is very familiar with the neverending quest for power. Sahlrek in his true sight identifies the afflicted individuals suffering from Jedor: Althea, Alderly and Arvid. He places his hands out towards the infected individuals, and begins an attempt to banish the demons from whence they came. It proves fruitless as the demons cling to the bodies, eager to continue eating the souls of their hosts. Althea, unphased at her condition concedes for now. “There are bigger issues right now..” she gestures to the decay and rubble around her.
The wreckage in front of them is inhospitable for them and the remaining civilians as they begin to set up camp and section portions of the capitol that can be salvaged. Fears and insecurity run high amongst the survivors, mostly the elderly, women and children remain. Althea sits and listens to their story, their fears, and their dwindling hopes… Thelise stands and addresses the masses, telling of what happened and what shall be done moving forward. A small child stands at attention in the crowd. He is so small, but is trying to put on a brave face, tears about to brim over. Thelise quietly approaches him and inquires about his situation. His family gone, his baby brother dead upon his back in a crude swaddle. Thelise knelt down to the floor in front of the boy, carefully taking the swaddled body into his arms before addressing the boys bravery and strength. “Your parents would be proud of you,” Thelise says quietly to the young one. “Come, let us lay your baby brother rest now,” Thelise leads him over to Sahlrek for proper burial rituals. Althea watches Thelise’s capacity for kindness and empathy towards others and finds herself feeling empty. Sahlrek and Thelise commit burial rituals for all that perished in the riots and the dragon attack, the crowd responding in kind and mourning the death of their loved ones but celebrating the lives they led. Sahlrek and Aldrich begin healing the wounded in the capitol, while Althea stands listlessly. “Caring and healing is not my strong suit whatsoever,” she grumbles. Uncomfortable with having nothing to do, she busies herself handing out food and water to those in the crowd. Sahlrek puts his hands together and after a moment, conjures a fantastically large feast for the elderly in the community.
As night falls, she shies away from the tavern games and excessive drinking around her. Preferring to sit with the people and hear their concerns and backgrounds. The crowd begins to thin until it’s just the generals left over. Althea clambers to the center of the group to peer at those who are speaking, one of which holding onto a strange silvery large egg. The 13 reveal the atrocities committed by the Kingdom Lake Vista druid matriarch. They look indignant, angry, speaking of their old home. The Matriarch has enslaved dwarves in Kingdom Lake Vista for her own bidding… the 13 followed the signs towards the capitol and seek it to be their new home. Althea doesn’t let the surprise creep into her expression, she had no idea that it wasn’t all sunny at Kingdom Lake Vista. Despite being away from conflict, it seems they had their own evils to contend with...
In light of the new information, the group gathers up and discusses next plans. It’s time to speak with the dwarves in Graniteheart again, with what we now know. Sahlrek senses an imbalance between life and death, able to see a stopper or bottle neck placed on allowing souls to pass into the afterlife. Althea observes him, speaking to seemingly nothing, asking how he can help them pass on. She shakes her head and prepares for the return to Graniteheart. “Arvid will want to travel back to his home as well..” she knocks on the door to the shared living quarters where Arvid and Alderly retired to. Sahlrek, Aldrich and Thelise remain in the large hall in the meanwhile.
Her eyes quickly adjust to the low light conditions of the room and before her are two individuals, fast asleep on opposite sides of the room, she strides to Arvid and calls to him. He doesn’t stir, and her response is to lightly shake him. A smell of flowers assaults her nose, cloyingly sweet, and disturbingly familiar. Without needing to look any further, she looks above both beds to see dark, foreboding demonic figures floating above Arvid and Alderly, tethered to their bodies. A flower lies on each of their pillows, keeping them in deep slumber. She groans, “I cannot catch a fucking break…” before focusing her eyes on another individual in the room, porcelain mask covering a disturbing smile. “What is it you want, Jedor assassin,” she asks, bored and tired of their games. The tattoo on her arm slowly writhes, and grasps the dagger while Althea prepares to fight but then hesitates. “Jedorians are capable of making friends turn upon one another”, she thinks back to the fight in the Tundra where people mistook her for a fiend despite sharing a drink with her just moments before, “If I attack her, what if I actually hit Arvid or Alderly instead?” The assassin crookedly smiles, places a single finger on her lips and a flower floats in Althea’s direction… “Is the solution to everything to just kill and ask questions later? Or is there something I should be doing differently in life…” Althea ponders briefly before stupidly, stupidly, accepting the flower. Diplomacy be damned.
First blink: she’s in the shared living quarters with Arvid and Alderly fast asleep, completely unaware of the danger they’re in. Second blink: she sees nothing but fog, her body feels weird and looks odd, juvenile.. She looks down at her hands, and they seem more childlike than usual. Confused and dazed, she looks around herself directly at an individual that looks like Asher, but older, with unfamiliar armor. The rest of the individuals also look vaguely familiar to her, but that doesn’t matter right now. Asher is here? Is this Asher? Against her better decision making skills, Althea reaches out a hand to touch Asher on the arm. Third blink: she’s in a dark room that seems underground, stone flagged floors and crimson army clay soldiers stand in the center of the room. A warrior stands across the room from her, near a large stone throne. “Who are you?” she questions uncertainly. He wordlessly unsheathes his blades, one which dangles a token of Alith’anar, an individual who she worked with briefly in the past. The warrior speaks very few words, conveying that he will not show her mercy just like her people did not show their people mercy. Althea is thoroughly frustrated, confused, and angry at the sheer fucking stupidity of the situation she continually finds herself in. “Damned by one community, damned in the other, there is never any winning--I am perpetually by myself in these affairs” she thinks to herself, readying her own weapon.
Lilith dead, multi attack spent, Althea clutches at her side where an equal amount of wounds are piling up mirroring what she’s inflicted upon the enemy drow warrior. As he slices into her, she stands taller, feeling the sharp sting become dull and numb. Her yellow eyes meet his coldly and she hits back harder than before in rebuttal. “Can’t be long now, he’s got to be pretty hurt--” her thoughts were cut off as the warrior reaches into his pouch and downs two potions. She mentally curses herself, knowing that she’s spent all of her potions in previous fights and just prepares for the worst. Without rest, she knew she wouldn’t stand a reasonable chance with his four attacks versus her one or two, especially without allies nearby. She dashes over to a nearby chest where two potions hide, but they can’t heal her to what she needs. She turns to him and faces down Death, choosing not to fight or fear her anymore. It’s time to go home to her friends. The drow plunges both of his swords through Althea’s chest and she feels a deep sense of calm after acknowledging the life she led to be true to her ideals.
The dark is suffocating and endless in the afterlife, she presumes. She wakes but in a formless, dark environment. Perhaps it’s nothingness for the rest of my existence even in death. A warm glow of light grabs her attention, there, in the distance! Thrn’k and Talion beckon to her, she’s finally come home. She makes her way their direction, but similar to moving in a dreamscape, her limbs are slow, heavy. After a millenia, she finally catches up to Thrn’k and Talion, both looking at peace. They don’t speak to her, nor answer any of her questions but make gestures with their hands at this light just beyond the path in front of her. “I’m supposed to head down that direction? Are you coming with me too?” They look at her but are unable to speak, indicating the choice is hers alone. She spends an odd amount of time making the decision. Just moments before she claimed to be at peace, so heading towards the light was the next logical step. But why wasn’t the choice just easily taken? What could she possibly be holding onto that would allow her not to rest? Althea begins to get frustrated, holding her temples with both hands, trying to quiet her mind and understand her own emotions. Quickly being lost is her sense of peace from when she died, in its stead is uneasiness, mistrust, anger, confusion, and most of all an inability to let go.. She watches as Thrn’k and Talion leave her space and accept their fates in the afterlife. Now she’s utterly alone, without knowing if she’ll be with them in the end or whether she’ll be by herself for all of eternity. She backs away from the lit path and recedes back into the darkness where she encounters a vision. Asher sits and examines a black orb in his hands, tapping the gem experimentally while souls writhe and churn in response within. “It’s the Death Orb…” Althea says to no one. “He’s taken it, and in doing so has caused a rift between the balance of life and death,” putting together the pieces of her predicament. She’s stuck in limbo until balance has been righted, but does she even want to pass on? Or will she cheat death and claw her way back to the land of the living…

The choice becomes easier after she hears a familiar voice, echoing in the space around her. It’s Sahlrek, trying to commune with her in the afterlife. She replies as to what she’s seen thus far, including Asher’s possession of the orb. It seems her compatriots aren’t ready for her to go as well, they comply with her wishes and begin making arrangements for her souls return from the Astral plane. Sahlrek and Aldrich prepare to find Althea’s soul and guide her to an exit while Thelise guards the groups physical bodies as well as Shandri’s.
Althea blinks her eyes against the sun overhead, her vision adjusting to a familiar scene. She seizes up, staring at the entrance gates of Lisbon. Her breath grows shallow and her mouth becomes dry as her vision becomes tunneled. There are Crimson Army, moving about, The Order soldiers above, they seem to be in harmony--making her frown. She adjusts her white cape upon her shoulder and looks bewildered at the scene. Sahlrek and Aldrich look at her quizzically and push her to be mindful of the time that Shandri has allotted. Their looks of concern snap her back to pseudo reality in the Astral plane and she hoarsely says, “Maybe we should move towards HQ. If my memory serves me right, it’s straight through here and next to the vault…” Familiar faces approach her, acknowledge her as if she’s reliving history. She swallows everything she wants to say, to scream, saying that the entire city will be slaughtered and betrayed. She pushes past those she knows will die and surges towards the headquarters, trying to trigger any semblance of an exit for her pitiful soul. At every turn, her mind is sieged with new information providing depth to the betrayal related to the massacre. She covers her mouth as she sees individuals wafting pollen out of unmistakable flowers into the crowd, causing the civilians to fall into a trance. “Fucking Jedor, they are the scum of all living and they will fucking pay,” she says to herself, hand over her mouth. Nothing is working, no exit is presenting itself to her, and the sun grows lower and lower.. Then the screams begin. No stranger to death and torture, Althea wasn’t shaken at first. But then the horrible realisation that she was about to relive the very night of the Lisbon Massacre dawned on her. Her PTSD begins to kick in and she pushes for Sahlrek and Aldrich to leave through a dining hall next to the vault, desperate to find Synn who would save them on the other side of the building. Surely, she would be there once more! Barred in by assassins, drugged, and forced to flee back the way she came. Althea, Aldrich and Sahlrek find themselves in front seats for the show.
Althea struggles to keep her senses about her as she watches seven naive Order members stumble into the courtyard, shortly followed by The Herald. She looks at her younger self from a distance and scoffs at the look of confidence and naivete across her face. She remembers this scene, too well. She knows the exact play by play but immediately it seems different.. Expecting to see Thrn’k die by the stairs, she gasps audibly as Thrn’k instead looks her dead in the eye and is confused by the duplicate Altheas. She simply can’t help herself, she desperately gestures for the halfling to run to her, to abandon the fight. Althea’s younger self gets thrown across the room and Thrn’k rushes to her aid, cradling her body, but looking between both Altheas, not understanding the possibilities. Sahlrek and Aldrich cannot get Althea’s attention back to the task at hand, her ears ringing and her blurry vision focusing only on Thrn’k, clutching her body in the corner. Althea breaks rank and rushes towards Thrn’k, hand outstretched intending to grab his shoulder. She seamlessly falls through his body and assumes the position of the Althea he’s cradling. She wakes with a gasp and a start, weakened. Shandri’s voice resounds in her head: “This is the moment, it’s time to leave!!” She jolts to sitting position, face to face with young halfling who is utterly confused between the battle and seeing her come back from unconsciousness. Althea sees Sahlrek and Aldrich behind Thrn’k a ways in the distance and gets to her feet with some effort. Thrn’k is surprised but does not fight her as Althea picks him up and dashes towards her comrades, leaving The Order behind. Sahlrek shouts at her “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” She cannot explain her irrationality with words, but the panic in her eyes says it all, a deep fear written all over her face and Sahlrek pushes her behind him. Althea is cursing to herself, wrought with stress and trauma from her past. Sahlrek and Aldrich defending her is making her sick and she looks down at the wide eyed halfling in her arms and has flashbacks of his lifeless body. Aldrich squares off against the Herald and Sahlrek has enough sense to force Althea to move in any direction. Her body feels like lead as he forcibly pushes her into the alleyway and she regains control of her body, dashing towards the end of the dining hall building. Sahlrek gives a knowing but grim look at Aldrich who is holding the front line. Before it’s too late, Aldrich calls for Shandri and is back safe in the planes of reality. Sahlrek now knows he must get Althea to the exit, wherever it is. Again, he looks at her, his expression questioning her as to her actions and trying to make her understand that the past cannot possibly be changed. Althea shakes her head, clutches Thrn’k closer, holding him breathlessly as she drags him along, wildly looking for an exit for them both. She cannot fathom leaving him to die nor witness it one more time. A splitting headache overcomes her and she screams, clutching her forehead as Draxus leaves her body right on cue. Thrn’k is wordless, confused, and worried but she cannot explain to him what to do. She pushes onward with Sahlrek in tow, rushing towards the main gate exit once more to just put distance between them and the Herald. The hallway is straight and clear, Althea’s hope begins to return to her as the trio run towards the end.


A hulking shadow completely eclipses the light and blocks the gate. Sahlrek and Althea screech to a stop, halfway down the path where the Herald now stands. “Go, LEAVE NOW,” Sahlrek sternly pushes Althea to disengage and slip past the monster. She looks back at him gratefully, fearfully, and follows his orders, still holding onto Thrn’k. As Sahlrek holds the Herald’s attention, he gets hit with the heavy hammer and recalls back to Shandri. Althea squeezed past the Herald but now there was nothing holding his attention away from her and Thrn’k. Weakly stumbling around the corner, Althea is in no shape to fight. She had just been revived and had no health to speak of.. She looks down at Thrn’k, she herself a mess with no composure and he touches her face, with a strength and warmth that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Her breath slows and the moment seems to draw out. As she looks to her left, she sees her old comrades from The Order, crushed and dead. She begins to hyperventilate, tugging at Thrn’k, certain that she cannot leave him to die with no one to help him now. And beyond her, a shining portal that must be the exit her soul must pass through. Thrn’k’s hand leaves her face, as he adjusts the small acorn helmet on his head, and turns to ready his shield. His gentle but firm voice cuts through to her like a knife, “Run, and do not look back..” He bravely dashes towards the Herald, out of Althea’s grasp. She is at a loss for words but forces her legs to move and dash for the exit. Against his wishes, she looks back, and witnesses him die at the Herald’s hand, in a more horrific and drawn out way than the first time, his screams etching into her psyche as his last words are her name. Althea screams and cries out to Thrn’k as Shandri wraps her arms around her through the portal, pulling her soul back to the material plane. Althea wakes with a start, the pain evident on her face, her pupils dilated from witnessing the horrific scene. Sahlrek and Aldrich give her a moment to calm down before quietly comforting her.

She’s in a piss poor mood, but it’s better now being able to see her friends. Even Aldrich has returned her drinking flask after their squabble a couple days ago. Thelise comes down and greets her with open arms and she temporarily forgets her fresh wounds. He hugs her with a familiar warmth and she feels a sense of belonging again. She’s surprised that he committed efforts towards her safe return—previously having thought that she was a tool for Thelise’s bidding. His actions are warm and caring towards her. Behind him are new faces, representatives from Yeshai, and Trask herself. As they introduce themselves, Althea feels pricked as figure head for House Jedor steps forward. Althea is hardly hospitable towards this guest and questions her intents after having dealt with a lot of bullshit in the past with assassins and warriors of the house. After a lackluster response and insult in reply to Althea’s questioning, she only sees red and gruffly pushes the offender up against the wall. “Last chance,” Althea spits through her gritted teeth. “Ah, the trash talks,” wheezes the Yesharian. Althea acknowledges her decision making and puts her dagger through the woman’s head without remorse. “House Dawnveil takes precedence over Jedor in these matters,” comes the calm voice of Trask behind Althea. Althea turns and Trask surprisingly extends her hands towards her, in a gesture akin to goodwill. Althea clasps the outstretched hands and the rest of the leaders gasp in shock. The room quiets as the pollen that the Jedorian was releasing slows to a halt and people are shaken out of their reveries. Althea proclaims the tenets of her assassin house and where they reside.
The Yesharians debrief the room on the important matters. Invisible assailants are attacking the capitol, no patrols or civilians have been seen since they left towards the area. Althea scoffs, thoroughly believing it to be more Drow meddling. These disgusting houses have shown no remorse for lives regardless if they were innocent bystanders. The group divides up assignments and prepares for departure, once more. “Protect the capitol, the people, this core,” Althea and the group sternly address the 13 and the leadership.
Approaching the dock, Althea picks up on an unusual whistling signal, coming from all around the group. Some high up on the cliff, all the way down to the shrubbery near the rocks. As she holds her team members back, she focuses her eyes on a familiar form on the ship, albeit considerably less drunk than usual. Her heartbeat slows down a little and noises around her seem muffled as she observes him from afar. The most familiar with him, she decides to call out to him while the rest stay hidden and back her up. The uncertainty in her voice carries across the water as she calls his name. The form stands and squints in her direction, “Thea? Is that you?” The nickname instantly makes her grin, “In the flesh and blood, you crazy motherfucker”, Althea calls back smirking. “What are you doing here”, they both quip at each other but neither are willing to answer. He shouts for her to meet on the ship, and she falters. “Halfway”, she barks at him. He shakes his head. She feels the stress of the last week start to creep into her voice and says, “You never sent for me, like you said you would.” “I’m sending for you now”, his steady reply. Her tattoos twitch on her right arm, readying a reaction with her dagger as she deftly begins to cross the distance towards the ship. “Trap.. trap.. It’s just a trap…”, but she could not listen to reason after seeing Thrn’k die yet another time the night before. Seeing Asher’s familiar face was clouding her judgement.
The swift sound of an arrow being loosed rouses her attention from him and it sinks into her gut, she growls at the source and sees the assailant sinking into the shadow, out of her reach. The black ink seeps up her arm as she grits her teeth in anger. Asher shouts at her to quickly run to him, her anger gets the best of her for a moment as she believes he may have set her up but quickly brushes it aside. Her closest friend could not possibly break her trust in this way. The distance closes between them but a drow with two blue blades reveals himself and begins to swing upon Thelise despite their show of diplomacy and she takes several hits on Thelise’s behalf. Althea gets an eyeful of something dark but glittering in the light: the Death Orb upon the drow Velkyn’s body. Althea growls to herself, thinking about her time spent in limbo because of the misplacement of said orb. Asher shakes his head and his armor begins to cover his body as he prepares a defensive position. Althea snarls and immediately slices at the drow in response. Velkyn pays her no attention and returns to kill Thelise. As his body fell to the ground, Althea became increasingly defensive, certain that she would die at Asher’s hands.. Suddenly a shield crosses between Velkyn and Althea, Asher extending it between them and again he shouts for her to cross over to him, pleading with Velkyn to spare her. Althea looks at Thelise’s fallen body, wanting to take him with her and then at Asher’s pleading face. The drow gruffly grants him his wish and Althea jumps onto the ship. Sahlrek and Aldrich, too far to provide any assistance, teleport back to their area of safety within the core of the capitol, believing Althea to be safe for the moment.

Velkyn suddenly turns his blades with the intent to harm Asher, “This is the last time you get in the way between me and my prey,'' he gestures at Althea. Behind the shield, Althea gets into an offensive stance but winces from the wounds. “All these Velv are pieces of SHIT. Warriors my fucking ass, reneging on promises and being needlessly blood thirsty, they claim honor when they have none,” Althea seethes at Velkyn’s treatment towards Asher. The surrounding is nothing but water, and Althea looks at Asher’s heavy armor, knowing he cannot possibly swim for safety. She clutches at her side, bleeding from the arrow and damage she sustained from Velkyn’s blades. She clutches at his arm and tries to get him to move, but sees Velkyn readying to shadow step. Althea prepares herself to fight, perhaps this is how she really goes out. It was meant to be, back to back against the world with her closest friend. She gets into an offensive position best she can. But Asher uses his free hand to push her behind him as his shield becomes a wall of force. She grows cold and begins to freeze up, this scene is all too familiar to her. No, no, NO. She’s not worth saving, he has more to live for. He is good, she is bad, he doesn’t deserve this, but she does. He thinks of others and she is selfish. The voice echoed in her head, repeating her worthlessness like a mantra. Perhaps Velkyn would divert his attention to her, if she got away from Asher. “Asher, SAVE YOURSELF! Come find me, blink, get out of here, then find me!” The panic in her voice is palpable and she loses all sense of her bravado and cold demeanor. Her anger has fizzled out and is replaced with the fear of losing him. Diving into the water overboard the ship, she looks back at Asher, fully expecting him to pull a clever move and get out of harms’ way… Asher meets Althea’s wide eyed stare as she treads water beyond the ship and gives her a worn but trademark smile. She prepares for the drow to start firing on her while she’s in the water, but before her eyes Velkyn steps behind Asher’s wall of force shield, and kills him ruthlessly.

It suddenly becomes clear to her as she watches his body crumple to the ground—the soul that breathed life into him, gone. She should’ve never let him out of her sight, she should’ve conceded or worked harder to keep him close instead of writing off his safety with selfish people. No one can ever be trusted. They didn’t care for him, they just used him as their pawn. And now he was murdered in cold blood, suffering a fate similar to his own father… how could she not foretell that history would merely rewrite itself. The salt water mixes with her tears and it becomes indiscernible in the ocean as she opens her mouth in a silent scream. Nothing could’ve prepared her to watch her best friend die protecting her. She’s unable to breathe, letting the sobs take all the air out of her as she mourns Asher laying down his life for someone so worthless. Her inability to be strong enough is to blame, she couldn’t protect those who mattered to her, she couldn’t when Thrn’k died, and she failed again. She lets herself sink under the water briefly, racked with pain emotionally and physically, fine with drowning. The strength of the ocean waves begin carrying her closer to land and out of reach from the ship as she extends her hand pitifully in the direction of his slumped form, unable to cope.