It actually took a great deal of explanation and promises from Jessica for the [Priestesses] to understand what was happening to them. Granted, she had to omit several important pieces of information, like how Quasi’s army is composed of purely non-humanoid species. She did mention that his army was strong though, but did not specify its strength. Thankfully, they’ve put their trust in Jessica and are getting ready to leave.

Now, the [Priestesses] are all packing in a rush, grabbing whatever they can and shoving them quickly on the carts and carriages. Still, Jessica is slightly annoyed with them. Quasi told them to travel light and grab only the essentials; everything else would be provided for them once their escort arrived.

But, the common definition of ‘traveling light’ seemed to differ from that of the [Priestesses]’.

Jessica groans as she sees someone removing drapes from one of the windows. Carpets are being folded and rushed to the carts. Pots and pans are taken from the kitchens. She even notices Deraisa hacking away at the door hinges to take the door away.

“Jessica, your [Priestess] pals are pretty much looting the temple.”

“Yes…”

“They’re doing a great job.”

“What?” Jessica voices aloud. She turns to Quasi, somewhat confused.

“Mhmm. Despite their frantic pace, they’re staying very well organized. They look like a professional raiding party,” he begins while pointing at the carriages and cart, “Just look at that. They are rushing, yes, but they are also carefully placing everything on the carts so as to maximize space. They’re even making sure the weight is distributed evenly so that no side is too heavy.”

Jessica sighs but still smiles. After all, these are her friends and peers he’s complimenting.

A moment later, Nafissa comes running out of the temple with a bag in her hand. She is breathing heavily and sweating, no doubt from the pace they’ve been searching at.

She reaches Jessica and then pushes the bag into her arms. “I found it! He actually didn’t sell it. It was deep in his trunk.”

”What was?” Jessica asks as she opens the bag and reaches inside.

“Well, I was going through Francis’s room for anything useful and found a lot of valuable stuff; Coin, weapons, potions, even receipts of people who were sold into slavery. But this was still there, after all these years.”

Jessica pulls a simple silver necklace out that has Quasi raising an eyebrow as he sees it.

“I told you before that you were dropped off here when you were a baby. Well, I didn't tell you the whole story,” she began, “The person who dropped you off told us to keep you safe and that when you are older, we were to give this necklace to you.”

“To me? Why?”

Nefissa frowns, “Well, she said you can use it to find your mother.”

Jessica’s mouth opens and shuts like a fish out of water., “What do you mean?- My mother? I… Wasn’t I abandoned?”

Nafissa shrugs. “I’m not sure, and I'm sorry I never told you this. When you were growing up, Francis made me promise not to tell you about it. He didn't want you running off.

“I…” Jessica stares at the necklace, her hands brushing across the hard silver surface. The necklace is old, tarnished and scratched; perhaps it had been an heirloom passed down from mother to daughter.. She doesn’t know, but she felt the guilt of having lost it, and an incipient hope now that it was returned.

Quasi extends his hand palm up towards Jessica.

She looks at him, then his hand.

He wiggles his fingers.

“That necklace is sucking up mana, but it looks like the enchantment isn’t working anymore.”

“Alright,” she says, placing it on his palm.”

“Now then, let’s see what we’ve got.” His eyes glow with black light as [Eyes of The Reaper] activates. Screens of information appear in his vision, like pop ups on a virus-ridden computer. Classes, levels, stats, and descriptions of the [Priestesses] and nearby objects vye for his attention, but he ignores them. He keeps his focus on the necklace in his hand.

Necklace of Obfuscation [Rare] (Damaged)

This necklace was crafted in a rush, and has degraded with time. It absorbs ambient mana to generate magical interference which disrupts scrying spells targeting those within range.

The necklace is too damaged to apply this effect.

Created by the [Arcane Smith] Deflon Seron of house Carpe Diem.

“Huh. The necklace apparently stops the [Scrying] skill.”

“It was enchanted?” Nafissa asks.

Quasi nods. “Yes, but it had a weak, basic enchantment matrix built into it during the crafting process. Something like this would end up fizzling out after perhaps ten years of use. Probably less considering how rushed the work appears to be.“

“Could we use it to find my mom?” Jessica asks with a frown.

“The necklace? No.”

Quasi hands her back the item. ”With how damaged and old the enchantment is, I don't think I could trace it back to the creator. The necklace doesn’t show any unique markings or styles either. But, we can ask around. The [Arcane Smith]'s name is Deflon Seron, and he is supposedly part of house Carpe Diem. Do either of those names ring a bell?”

Jessica looks to Nafissa, who replies with the shake of her head.

Quasi folds his arms. “Well, we can ask around at Camelot then. In the meantime…”

Quasi turns away from the two and chuckles as he watches the raid continue into its final stages. The carts have mountains of supplies stacked upon them, and yet the [Priestesses] are now removing the glass panes from the windows.

“Oh yeah, Francis is going to be in for a shock when he wakes up.”

____________________________________________________________________

Rathos and Rose exit the gates of Sanavil, Rathos on horseback and Rose running beside him. They had left Scarlet behind to placate the Kitsune while both of them negotiate with the foreign army.

Rathos looks behind himself and finds a flock of wyverns perched atop the wall, gazing longingly at the forest of food surrounding the city.

“I don’t like this,” Rose complains, ”I don't like this one bit. I want to punch something right now.”

“Calm yourself. As we are, we cannot fight them. We must be diplomatic.”

Rose grumbles in reply. “After fighting to keep my city for nearly a year, I’m losing it without a fight. How can you be so calm about this? I feel like I’ve lost control of everything I worked so hard for.”

“I have to be for my daughter. If she wasn’t here, my people and I would already be leaving the city.”

“You would abandon Scarlet?”

Rathos’ hands tighten around the reins of his horse. “My daughter comes first. Now, and forever.”

Not another word is spoken as they continue onwards.

_________________________________

From the enemy army, a single rider advances ahead of the horde. Well, rider is inaccurate, but Rathos doesn’t know what else to call the half-man, half-horse who comes forth to greet them. The man is physically domineering, both in stature and in the muscle which can be clearly seen by the very form-fitting armor. As he nears, the man rests his halberd on his shoulder and slows to a trot. The three stop moving once they are within speaking distance.

The black-furred man speaks first.

“I am Dragkenoss, [Royal Cataphract Herald] for [King] Quasi and the [Heavy Cavalry Captain] of his army. I see you have the bearing of a leader; are you the [General] we have been expecting?” he asks.

Rathos slowly nods. “I am Rathos, [General] of Sanavil,” he gestures towards Rose, ”and this is [Lady] Rose, sovereign of Sanavil. We have come to speak with your leadership regarding the city's surrender.”

Rose frowns at the word “surrender” but stays quiet.

Dragkenoss smiles. “It is good that we’ve taken our first city bloodlessly. Now,” he tilts his head towards the army, “we have much to do and little time to accomplish it. Follow me to my carriage to meet my [Queen], where we may speak of darker matters.”

Rathos and Rose look at each other for a moment before matching Dragkenoss’s pace.

“May I ask a question?” Rathos asks as he rides next to Dragkenoss.

“With that, you already have.” The centaur chuckles, “Speak, [General]. You may have my ear.”

“First, though it may be impolite of me to ask this, what are you? I’ve not seen or heard of your species, nor any of the others that your army is composed of.”

“Your army, [General].” He corrects. “Quasi informed us that you will be leading us in battle, and his word is law. As for species, my kind are known as Centaurs. The big hairy ones with the horns are Minotaurs and the scaled ones are known as Gejan. Those three and the high level wyverns are the majority of the sapient peoples present.”

“And the monsters?” Rose adds.

“They are my [Queen]’s creations and are under her full and direct control.”

Rathos gazes at the white, insectoid monsters. He activates [Silent Analyze] and is surprised to see that all of them are over level one-hundred.

“They are strong; those monsters, that is. Will they take orders?”

Dragkenoss chuckles. “They are not part of the army. They are just food.”

Rathos goes silent. He looks again at the monsters, many of which look like they could easily scale Sanavil’s walls and crush its defenses with ease. He wonders, How strong are they if these trained monsters are just food?

Rathos chooses to ask the question later since he is now entering into the army proper. With Dragkenoss at the lead, nothing and no one hinders their progress toward the largest and most decorated carriage. Saying just that would be the understatement of the century, however. It almost seems as if someone took a [High Noble]’s mansion, decorated the outside with half their fortune, then made it float.

“The Queen awaits you in my cart. I must return to my duty.” Dragkenoss moves towards the four centaurs who pull the huge, floating structure. The four centaurs move away, and Dragkenoss retakes his place between the carriage shafts. They attach harness traces to the shafts and resume marching with the army.

Dragkenoss begins walking with a smile and his head held high. The massive carriage begins to move once more.

Rathos is very confused.

“Why are you pulling the carriage?” Rose asks before the [General] can.

Dragkenoss looks at her as though she is a complete idiot.

“Who else would be worthy?”

The centaur shakes his head at their ignorance.

“Go inside and speak with the [Queen]. We will speak again when you are finished.”

Rathos and Rose share a look before deciding to do just that. They walk to the side of the slowly moving carriage and step up inside.

__________________________________________________

Comfy, cool, and excessive are the first thoughts to cross Rathos’s mind as he steps into the hall of the carriage. His attention is arrested by the ceiling, which is dotted with hundreds of high-quality monster crystals that light the interior with a soft glow. The amount of wealth from just the lighting alone is mind-boggling. Not even a [Caesar] would waste such priceless crystals on light.

His gaze slowly descends from the ceiling and stops to look at several marked doors of the carriage. Armory, Galley, Laboratory, Lounge, and Somnolatory.

“I’m surprised these doors are so big,” Rose exclaims as she enters behind him.

“It's probably because of those Minotaurs. They need a lot of room to move freely.”

“That is a most astute observation, and I can confirm its veracity.”

Both Rose and Rathos watch as one of the doors opens and a Minotaur enters the hallway. Like the Minotaurs outside, he has two large horns, hooves for feet, and a large body equal to Rose in size. Unlike the Minotaurs outside, this one has combed fur, polished horns, and is wearing a clean suit.

Rathos subconsciously grips the pommel of his sword at the sight of the minotaur, a movement that does not go unnoticed.

The Minotaur quickly raises his right hand in a placating gesture while his left clutches a leatherbound book.

“Please, I apologize if I caused you alarm. I understand my kind, with our large physique and usually, aggressive behavior may daunt and pique perturbation, but I assure you, I sincerely wish you no harm.”

Rathos frowns but relaxes his shoulders.

The Minotaur smiles and slowly lowers his hand.

“Now then, may I assume you both are the [Lady] and [General] of the fine city to which we are destined?”

“Who are you?” Rose inquires, ignoring the Minotaur’s question.

“Ah, apologies. I had forgotten that you are here under duress... I assure you, however, that you shall discover your suspicions are unfounded. On the contrary, you both pertain to a position that would benefit you both not only in power, prestige, and privilege, but may bring you vindication with the knowledge that we will implement change in this world of a propitious nature.”

Rathos and Rose stare at the Minotaur in confusion. Even Rose, who always has a witty and snarky comment, is left speechless.

The Minotaur stares at them, flummoxed by their silence.

“Is something the matter? Was I too brusque? Pray tell, have I offended or caused misapprehension? Does aught perplex you? I know my rhetoric is often disingenuous, so please complain of your conundrums, posit your problems, make queries of your quibbles, or deliver your dilemas. I shall endeavor to elucidate any riddles and never shall I insult an honest inquiry, for I am, myself, among the ignorant.”

Rathos touches the bridge of his nose in vexation. Today has been an exceedingly odd day.

“We are here to speak with the [Queen]. Where is she?”

“[Queen] Nighmora? Alas, I should have apprehended at first sight t’was your purpose; forgive me. She resides at the end of the hallway. Allow me to escort you.”

The Minotaur begins walking. Rose snorts and Rathos sighs. Either way, they both follow him.

He leads them to the end of the hall and there opens a door, revealing a large chamber with a throne at the far end.

“Grognok, I believe I told you that I detest your presence.”

The Minotaur stutters. “You, uh, have guests, my most glorious [Queen].”

Nighmora frowns, her gaze takes in the two new arrivals.

“They can stay. You, however, may leave.”

“My [Queen]-”

“OUT!”