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Dontee nods, smiling slightly, though he felt a bit bad of having to 'stubbornly refuse' as he had. He shakes his head. "No, not at all. I understand that you just wanted to be friendly and such... but maybe some other time." He says, looking forward as he spoke, but then looked back to her when she asked of his community service.

"... Community service?... What?... Did I?" He asks himself in thought before shrugging his shoulders. "I... Hm, well... I believe of those two choices... I don't know... it all depends on my mood or amount of energy during the day... like, before I took this stroll, when I have all that energy, I guess I'd choose the building... but if after this stroll, when I'm more... well, not so energy filled... I'd probably choose to feed the homeless..."

Karinda's posture stiffened. Lael was hiding something, that much she could see as the girl glanced skyward as if in a quick, silent prayer.

A snapping branch made Karinda jump, her attention quickly turning to find the source of the sound, her hand resting almost leisurely on Aleron's black, metal hilt.

"We should go," Lael said, Karinda's eyes flicking in the girl's direction. "I'll explain what I can when there's more opportunity."

Karinda nodded and turned her attention from the woods. She glanced to the sky where hues of purple, pink, blue, and orange reflected majestically off the few lingering, wispy clouds, before hurrying after Lael, easily keeping pace with the girl.

We may be stepping into her trap, Saiirin warned.

Hath we any other choice, Saiirin? The sun has decided 'tis time for its rest, and doubt not that we would be the only things remaining unchanged within this time's towns.



"As true as that stands," Chaim said, walking over to where a tree stood, its leaves wilting and in the first stages of turning brown, "a question remains; would it have gone after you had I not been here?"

The animals along the shore shrank, sinking back into the normal flow of the waves.

"You can track it if you wish, though if it decides to harm anyone else, I'm sure it'll leave a trail in its wake." He gestured to where a group of bees had fallen to the ground, dead.

Once on the beach with Karinda, Lael didn't hesitate. She had made her decision. If it proved to be the wrong one, she would take the blame. And then she would... deal with it... as well as she was able. They would be in Templum, in any case. Surrounded by warriors and what few peacekeepers remained, if any. If all else failed, surely Chaim would be able to deal with the woman.

She moved to where sand met the roots of a knarled old tree. It still grew, the lush green leaves reassuring. It had always felt to Lael as the epitomy of life - a struggle to survive, but making the world around it all the more beautiful, and making the best of a dire situation. It clearly was not a plant that was meant to grow on a beach.

In its shape and and density it reminded Lael of a bonsai tree, only this one stood at just over twice her height. The roots splayed out, twisting along the ground and amongst themselves and digging deep into the earth. On the trunk around the side was a handprint. It looked like someone had burnt it into the tree, for the handprint was blackened and dipped and curved the way a normal hand should. But it was smooth and felt cool and alive to the touch.

Had Lael thought about it just a little more, it might have occurred to her to get Karinda to put her hand to the trunk - to prove once and for all what she was and wasn't. But she was pushed for time, and so the thought wouldn't occur to her until they were within the safe confines of Templum.

She slipped her hand into the print on the tree and the whole thing seemed to shudder. It untwisted itself slowly, the whole trunk rotating to reveal a hollow centre. There was no floor to this hollow centre. Just a darkened hole in the ground.

"This is -" Lael stopped. She had been about to say 'one of three entrances on this island'. Her wings quivered. She turned to face Karinda. "Safe." She finished, realising how it must sound.
"We can talk once we're inside." She glanced around again, eager to get to safety as she guestured for Karinda to go first.

Alexander glances back, trying to watch to be sure the boy wouldn't touch. He shrugs his shoulder at the boy's question over the purpose of the sword. "Well… it’s a sword… so, it’s used to fight and/or kill things… I use it to kill some large creatures." He says before looking forward. "... and since its sharp enough to cut into large creatures, I'd again recommend you not touch it... you could easily cut yourself." He says, arms crossed.

He finally turns around to look to the boy for a moment before sighing and looking away. ”… I use it to slay dragons.” He says plainly with a shrug of his shoulders.

At his words, the woman just laughed. Like everything else about her, the laugh was beautiful – like waves crashing on a rock, and chimes echoing in the breeze, and something else – something echoing and horrible all at the same time. Theodore shuddered.
Her sudden laugh startled some of the patrons, a couple of beady eyed old codgers who had been talking heatedly over a yellowed map and a couple of glasses of something broke off, giving the woman a wary stare. The bartender shrunk back in on himself, holding the tankard Theodore had handed him with shaking hands. He stared at the woman now.
What had she done to him to break him so? Sure, she was terrifying, the kind of person all would love, and despair of, but she had said barely a word to him. What power did those cold eyes hold?
"Are you my master to know that there's nothing here I want?" She said mockingly, her cold eyes glittering with a wicked amusement. Suddenly, Theodore had the sinking feeling that this woman was playing with him. He had made a mistake.
But he couldn’t back down now. He never backed down.
"Peacekeepers. You always seem to think you know what's best."
“I won’t say it twice.” He said, looking away from her. She unsettled him, stirred him. Something within him answered her call. Why did everything she was saying make so much sense? Peacekeepers kept the law – as best they could anyway. They protected all, without discrimination, from the encroaching dark. But who policed the police?
As if she had read his mind, she continued. "Tell me; have you never wondered if it's your kind who've been in the wrong all these years? That perhaps it's the scum you protect that deserve to be beaten and broken?"
To give himself time to gather his thoughts, he tapped the bar and gave the bartender a meaningful glare. In a hurry, the man filled up the glass from one of the taps and slid it across to Theodore, slopping it over the counter and Theodore’s hand. Theodore shook the hand in absent annoyance, and then stuck it in his mouth to suck off the remaining liquid. He grimaced. When had he last had a bath? His hands tasted like a horrible mixture between plant sap, petrol and mud.
To wash away the taste, he took a gulp of the liquid and grimaced again. It was foul, and mostly foam.
“It’s not my job to say who deserves protecting more. We just protect.” Pretty words, a pretty speech he had heard time and time again.
And every word of it was a lie.

((Just out of curiosity, exactly what era is the RP in? I thought somewhere in industrial, or are we just going to be in an Anachronism setting?))