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"Heh...nah, not this time."

He shook his head slightly, rolling his right shoulder in the process. There was a slight pop, and he sighed out of relief.

"Before, I would have said yes. It was all about the money. But now, well...it's a pretty complicated story, so I'm just going to leave it with the fact that my grandfather died, and left me a little note about how I'm of an esteemed lineage and all that jazz. Turns out there was a race of people long ago that were extremely powerful fighters. Unfortunately, they weren't all that smart, and were abused by diplomats, gods, what have you. All of the endless wars and killing drove them insane...they fought each other, fought with the gods, all sorts of bad stuff. Kinda killed themselves off in that way, I suppose."

He shrugged his shoulders. It was all he knew at the time.

"So I guess I'm trying to find my roots...you know? There's a lot about my bloodline that I don't understand, and I figured since the gods were involved I'd be able to claim that knowledge, or maybe tap into some of that potential."

His eyes drifted towards Lazenca, the wolf man that had been present during the Viceroy battle.

"Heh...you're crazy. We beat the bad guy, man. All that's left is to gather up the troops and ride the victory parade."

Ah, walls. But there was no refreshingly lightly-alchoholed beverages on these walls.

No more party on the wall.

"Is it just me, or does this place feel different? Perhaps more... 'ultimate'-ish than before? Not that I know what ultimate-ish means..."

Nascen whistled as he trotted right by the other people and plopped down against a wall, not too far away from everyone else. Instead of mangling any more potentially amusing song/game references after sitting down though, Nascen pulled out a med kit, took off his coat, and set about sterilizing the numerous small bloody spots on him, ignoring the thick dust still covering every inch of his body but his hat, which appeared perfectly clean. Even as it's normal color was a dull brown.

((Goes back and deletes half of his last post gonk

Thank you, I hadn't realized... sweatdrop ))

"Bonjour, Miss Isihos." Nascen said, nodding back to her as he carefully paid attention to running a cloth along his bloodied knuckles. Really, all his injuries beyond bruises were small cuts, and with all the dust and dirt probably hard to notice save for the big black ring around his already ruined eye, which probably didn't stand out too much anyway, what with the long scar already tracing all the way down his face over it. He was pretty sure nothing was broken though.

Other than his recent injuries and uncleanliness, the only things new about Nascen really would have been the sword he'd maken the improvised sheath for before; he hadn't had it long as he had simply picked it up somewhere, but it was smaller and looked a tad different now, and he had a bracer peice on his left forearm, a peice of delicate white lattice work actually. Perhaps the strange armpiece would stick out, especially with his sleeves rolled up and coat off for now so he could get to keeping all his injuries free of infection, but the sword would probably blend in with the mess of the rest of his gear; grenades, flashbangs, a knife, the katar strapped to stick past either knuckle, his staff, and the subautomatic still strapped over his back, all a bit of a jumble since they were strapped on over his coat and he'd taken that off for now.

"How's everyone doing? I'd offer a touch of alchohol to help everyone relax, but I don't drink much of the stuff and it's impractical to carry around, so all I've got is a few doses of pain killers, not that they're probably the best to use unless you really need them..." he said, deciding he'd cleaned every injury on his body he could reach himself and packed his medical kit away, stuffing it back into his backpack and leaning against the wall again.

"That was it, right? The Viceroy stopped the contest like I'd wanted, saved the world, only then he could destroy it apparantly, but since we've stopped him... that's it, right? We're finished, saved? I mean... it doesn't feel quite right, but this should be the end of it, shouldn't it?" he rubbed his forehead with his palm, taking it away to find more grime had rubbed off onto the palm than had stess.

"Always a good place to start, neh?" he sighed, stretching out until he was closer to laying on the floor than leaning on the wall, legs spread way out in front of him and head propped up only about as high as his backpack sat beside him.

"If he wants an explosion, I just came from one... or we can go buy firecrackers." his lips suddenly quircked into a grin from his almost somber mood of before. "Yeah, that's what we could use. A nice grassy hill with just a touch of breeze... some good ol' flavored ice and a little fireworks show. Not a bad way for it all to end. Though maybe I could use a shower first..." he said, pulling out at an armpit of his shirt as if to smell it, and instead flicking it, sending a little cloud of dust and particles of dirt to flutter about in the air before settling on the ground.

"They called themselves the Tyr Kana. Other than that, I'm not really sure how old they were. A lot of generations, that much is for sure."

Athan looked towards Nascen, giving a curt nod of his head towards the man. He wasn't exactly sure where he was during the entire fight, but Athan recognized that he was present at some point for the festivities.

"Snow cones and fireworks huh?"

Athan looked down at the ground between his legs and offered a faint smile.

"Sort of stuff that we'd do as kids. The war is over, and all of the soldiers return home to all these festivities. Strange thing, though. The people returning never really enjoyed them as much as everyone else."

Athan's right hand moved up, running through the length of his hair as he lifted his head and turned his gaze skyward. There was a soft sigh as he gave up on the recollection.

"But I tell ya, I could really go for some apple pie and ice cream right now."

"You should all come back to the Firebrand when this is over..." Owle suggested. "Free drinks all around, or something..." She wasn't about to let her lost loved one go. He wasn't dead yet, and even if he were...she would find him. She would find him, and bring him back. As he'd watched over her.

She looked up at Sam as the woman exclaimed. Suddenly, Owle was sitting bolt upright, body tensed like a cat about to pounce or bolt.

"What's wrong?" she asked, anxiety in her voice. "Has something else happened?"

She stood up, and walked over behind Sam, peering at the computer screen, trying to discern what had upset the woman so.

"What are you talking about?" Owle asked anxiously. "What's happening? The Viceroy was planned?"

She was staring at the screen, trying to make sense of the strange characters. They looked familiar, but it had been so long...

"No...but a contigency plan...It seems...err...whoever planned this, planned it well. Like they knew what people who were going to defy the gods were capable of..." She said no more then this as she continued typing. She was frantic, her fingers flying across the keyboard.

"There should be a way to..." She ran her fingers along the screen before looking back at the etching on the temple.

"...get emergency access with three special items that will be activated if the game does not go the way it's timed."