The Shadow Carnevale (RP)

Albert looks behind him. Everyone is sound asleep. They'll be fine for a few minutes. He concludes and gets up to go and have a look at the group that has taken up a spot near them. I'll just check them out from behind a tree first. It's unlikely they'll see me in this darkness.

Now a bit closer, he can see a few wagons. Though, just as he's hidden to them, it's hard to see more than some moving shapes. He decides to wait and watch for a minute or two.

Lille has the fire well banked, and has been moving to different spots around the campsite every so often. The repositioning not only helps keep her awake, but lets her see and hear the surrounding woods from different angles. The sudden intrusion of noise into the otherwise quiet night sets her on high alert, crouched by a bush with one hand clenched on her staff and the other hovering over her knife at her waist.

As the sounds and sights evolve, Lille watches with tense curiosity. I will NOT wake them this time, she resolves to herself. I will deal with this myself. With a last glance at the group’s sleeping forms, she slips forward between the trees, silently flitting to each new bit of cover when the right noise or action happens to cover her movement.

Lille lurks in the shadow of a tent, gazing in awe at the spectacle around her. Where did all these people come from? Her query is lost amid the new sensations that flood her mind. She leans low, preparing to scuttle on all fours to another shadowed spot but then stops. No, I am an adventurer now. I will face this like they would. She straightens, squares her slender shoulders, and marches around the front of the tent to the first fair worker she can find. "What is all this?" She plants her staff firmly with one hand and manages not to twitch from the gaze and proximity of so many people. But old habits die hard, so she also tries to surreptitiously peek into the tent opening.

Roald turns his head to locate the origin of the voice. He sees lights in the distance, growing in number.
"Albert, Albert" He whispers his name not to wake up anyone else.

When Albert doesn't react he thinks it through
Everyone has had a rough day, maybe it's better if I just let them sleep.

Roald stands up, hesitates for a moment while looking at the sleeping bodies, and walks towards the light reassured they will be fine. No one would rob them when there is such a large crowd right next to them. Right?

He tries to stay in the shadows as much as possible. More and more lights come into view as he creeps closer. And the sounds,... the noise... people shouting, laughing,... what is this?

Albert watches as the people show up to the booth to enter the tents. What is going on here? Albert thinks. A show at this time of night? Kids showing up? They should be in bed. And we're not close to any village as far as I know. A whiff of manure reaches his nose, reminding him of his childhood. Back when he lived with his parents next to the village stables. They must have horses here, or some kind of animal at least. Perhaps this carnival had more exotic animals. It did kind of excite Albert in a way. But still the oddity of the timing made him think twice about approaching.

"Hey Albert! Are you awake?" One of the people at the booth seems to say to a person who just arrived. He's surprised to hear his own name until he realizes it's not aimed at him. Must be a regular. The man mumbles something back and heads on inside.
Over on the other side, where some setup is still being done. One of the carnies tells another "We will unstake the tent here and here and use rope to re-tie to those tree branches."

Albert decides to go and check out the back. Perhaps he can get a view inside that will give him a better idea of what this is before he tries to talk to anyone. They seem to be making a lot of noise, which might wake up his companions and they need their rest. Somebody should probably have a word with them.

Albert looks left and right to see if that other Albert person is anywhere in sight. However, he seems to be alone here. After waiting a few moments in silence, he steps forward. "Are you talking to me? Do I know you?"

Albert looks at the bear, then at the hostler, then at the bear again, then back to the hostler. "This isn't my bear." He sounds confused. "Why do you think I should do something about it? I'm a bartender, not a bear wrangler."

He checks behind him. The light of the campfire can no longer be seen with the light coming from the caravan. He can't help but worry about his companions a bit. Hopefully they are still ok. He could go get Lille, she's got experience with bears.

"I know someone who's good with bears, though. We could help you out." An opportunistic thought enters his mind. "For a fee."

Lille frowns in consternation at the claim. Why would they seem so excited about something that’s frightful? The laugh of a small child across the crowds doubles the apparent contradiction. "I will determine if it is truly a threat." She starts to walk confidently into the tent.

Roald walks up to the man and asks "How much?"
He pays the amount asked for and the man hands him a long pole with a hook at the end. The pole is heavy and far too long to be accurate. The hook dangles from a piece of rope which makes aiming for the metal rings on the duck's heads even harder.
At least he painted them...
But Roald is strong and determined to "show him". Yet, everytime he almost hooks a duck, the bastard splashes with his hand in the tub and stirs everything up. Roald keeps trying over and over again, slowly losing his temper.
"Stop. Doing. That." he says, but oddly his words are not directed at the owner.

"That's more like it" Roald says as the water is becoming calm. His tongue between his teeth he tries hard to catch a sausage.
Sausage?? huh?
Just a second ago the shapes in the water were dark red, bloodred. And now, the red has turned into brown... or... were they even red to begin with? His hook catches on a duck, yes definitely a brown wooden duck.
"HA-HA" This one is gonna win me a price! With a smirk on his face he looks at the owner... where did he go?
This makes no sense at all, how can he reach the water and make waves from way up over there
"Hey! HEY! You're doing it wrong, this is not how it's supposed to go"
Looking back at his hook, it's empty once again
"Now look what you have done!"

If Lille has heard the belated pronouncement, she doesn’t appear to get the joke. She scans the tent quickly, then focuses on the man at the table. "Was there some danger in here? Where did it go?" From her suspicious glare, it’s clear that Lille is strongly considering that this man is the threat, though she doesn’t see anything frightful about him.

Lille lets out a low growl in the back of her throat but simply turns around and stalks back out the way she came. Rounding on the short person at the entrance, she points inside accusingly. "There is nothing ‘frightful’ in there." She turns without waiting for a reply and heads off with no set direction, merely walking wherever the crowds seem thinnest.

"That's right." Albert confirms. "Just beer, no bear."

"Ah, you see, my name is Albert too. That's why I answered." He waits another minute for the other guy to show up. "Are you sure he's coming? If not, I can still offer my friend's help. What's wrong with the bear anyway? I thought circuses often use bears in their show."

He walks a bit closer to get a better look inside.

Lille tries counting the tents and wagons as she passes them, trying to determine how big the Carnevale is and also distract herself from the gaze of so many eyes. But she ends up failing on both accounts, as the numbers slip from her head and the urge the bolt grows more and more pressing. Finally she sidesteps from the main flow and darts into an alley of sorts, breathing surprisingly hard for so little physical exertion.

She tries to get her bearings, as much as she can in the seeming maze of structures. She peeks into the back of an unattended wagon, hoping to get a better idea of what this place is all about.

After yet another failed attempt to catch a duck Roald furiously throws down the stick.
"This game is rigged! Where is your boss? I demand to speak to your boss"
The weird thing is that deep down he already knew most of the so called games at a carnival are a scam to trick people into leaving their money there. So why is he so upset this time?
Roald furiously throws down the stick. [b]"This game is rigged! Where is your boss? I demand to speak to you..."
The owner is in front of him once again, smiling, hand in the water. The stick is back in Roald's hand.
I need to get out of here
His breathing becomes superficial...

"I'll fight it alright, I'm a fighter, and fighters fight, that's what we do!"
Roald's fist pinches the stick, but it feels mushy in his hand. When he takes his eye off the man, he sees that he is holding a sausage.
"HA! I WON!" He yells at the owner.
- "Did ya now?" he replies.
Roald wants to hold the sausage up in the air to show the man his moment of glory. But the thing is stuck, on the other end a heavier duckling is keeping it in place. He let's go of his end of the sausage and approaches the water. The man is back at the far end of the tent. The water is still again.
Roald looks at his reflection in the water and sees the face of his father.
"no..." is all he's able to utter.
Confused he leaves the ducks and the game for what it is and makes his way to the exit.

As she goes to peek inside the wagon, Lille is distracted by the laugh of nearby fair-goers. A young couple about her age stands near the alley entrance, taking in the sights. Getting an idea, Lille turns and marches up to them.

"Why are you here?" she demands. Listening suddenly to herself, she tries again more softly. "I mean, what do you enjoy most about this place?"

"And do you feel sure of this ‘privacy’?" she asks the girl directly. "That you will be uninterrupted? Are there other parts you enjoy?" She gives the boy a significant look, suggesting that he better let his friend answer for herself.

Roald puts the duck in his pocket and steps outside. The sausage is gone and he doesn't even give it a second thought.
His 'father's' words keep ringing in his head in an endless loop.
can't even hold a knife, can't even hold a knife, can't even hold a knife,...
Without thinking he puts his hand on his dagger. '' I can, I'll prove it! ''
The bright lights of the carnival blind him when he steps outside de dim tent, there is music coming from somewhere but it's hard to hear over the sound of people chatting and over the voice in his head.

can't even hold a knife, can't even hold a knife

''SHUT UP Y0U BASTARD!'' Roald shouts out for the whole square to hear.

Elsewhere, without Albert's knowledge, his body is reunited with his staff by Theo and Ezme's doing. A jolt of courage hits Albert inside his dream. Suddenly that bear doesn't look scary at all. Actually it looks like it could use some help.

The hostler is talking to the person wrangling the horses, trying to figure out what to do next. "And if we cannot figure it out, we will get someone who can.... I promise!" He hears one of them say.
"You know what?" Albert says taking a closer look. "That is my bear!" He rolls up his sleeves. "Out of the way. Let me handle this."

He steps up next to the cage. "Hey!" He yells at the bear. "Bronda. Come here." He's not sure why the name 'Bronda' came to mind. Maybe he subconsciously read it on the label that he's pretty sure he hadn't noticed before. Now that he looks at the cage again, it definitely reads 'Ronda the bear' engraved into a metal square. "Let me take a look at you."

He turns his head to the hostler who has been talking to him earlier. "What's your name? Eh never mind. Get me a mug of honey, will you? And hurry it up." Somehow he feels like he should be in charge of this situation. "Just... let me warm up little more... Then maybe we can try something with staff....?" The man replies. "What staff? Are you not part of the staff here? I guess a few extra hands wouldn't hurt. But the honey is more important. Get to it." Albert says somewhat confused.

Lille cocks her head at their words, a mix of confusion and curiosity plain on her face. Before she can reply, the call across the tents sparks a memory in her mind. "I doubt that’s any relation of yours, but I think I might know them." She turns to hurry away, but calls back over over her shoulder, "Have great sex!" Then she guides her steps quickly towards the loud voice. "Roald!" The sight of her new companion confirms the familiarity of the agitated man. Seeing him with a hand near his dagger, she drops her hand near her own knife, her posture defensive as she scans the area. "What is wrong?"

"Uhm.. Yeah.. Usually." Albert tells the man. "That's probably a good place to look. It doesn't need to be a mug. Use your hands if you have no other options. Come on, get to it! Do you want those horses calmed down or not?" His tone is now irritated. If this hostler has the nerve to be cheeky with him then that's what he'll get back in return.

While the guy figures out an answer, Albert tries to get a better look at Bronda the bear. It's not looking all there. "Don't worry, buddy. I'll get you somewhere safe." He holds out his hand to try and pet it. Somehow not afraid that the bear will tear his arm off.

All events that happened until now, even his father's face and words get pushed away to the back of his mind in the wink of an eye. At the sight of Lille, Roald gets teleported back to 'reality'. Though there is still a feeling of nausea in his stomach.
''Lile?? What are you doing here? I don't like this place, do you know how to get back?''

"I was on watch, and had to see if there was a threat here." Though she tries, Lille can’t help but let a little defensive note slip into her voice. "To go back we just go…" She looks around, seeming a little panicked that she can’t tell where they are. "We can’t be that far from the edge. What are you doing here? Is the group ok?"

''I passed some animal cages on my way here, if we go in that direction, we might get back to the camp.
Are you alright? You seem ... Not alright. Do you think I can hold a knive? I mean really hold a knive. This one feels heavy, try it. It feels heavy. I think I heard some horses whinny over there. We should go''

Roald is babbling along still subconsciously affected by the weird dream before, but not able to put his finger on it. It's somewhere in the back of his mind influencing his actions.

He sticks the dagger in Lille's general direction, point first. Not far enough to stab her, but it's not how you give a sharp object to someone.

"Yes, towards the animals," Lille murmurs, as she looks at Roald’s gaunt flesh. "I think YOU are the one who needs Ezme’s help. Yes, we need to go now." She frowns at him with concern.

As he thrusts the dagger at her, she jumps back instinctively, fully drawing her own knife before she realizes it. But her hand skews with the sudden unexpected weight, and Lille looks disbelievingly between it and her companion. "This is wrong, all of this is wrong," she says, not keeping the rising panic from her voice. "Come on, run!" Without waiting for a reply, she heads in the direction that he said the horses might be, though she does spare one wary glance to check that Roald is following, but not TOO closely.

Roald sticks the knive, no dagger back where it belongs and starts running after Lille. At some point he seems not capable of keeping up with her. He tries to shout, but there is hardly any sound coming from his mouth. Just as he thinks of giving up, she comes closer again only to enlarge the distance again afterwards. This 'game' goes on until they reach the cages.

Lille bounds along with deer-like strides, her long steps hardly moving her anywhere. She increases the speed of her leaps, but the tents and wagons still seem to crawl by. After hours of this, which is also only a few moments, she thinks to look back for Roald. He seems to shout, but when his mouth moves no words come out. His steps drag too, and she gives up waiting and starts her own slow progress again, trying to remember which way he said to go.

Albert stares at the bear. Looking into its sad eyes. He blinks and suddenly his world has changed. He's looking at ... himself. A man dressed just like him is standing in front of him. As if looking to a mirror. But there's something odd. To look at his own head, Albert needs to look up. This mirror image is taller than he is. He looks at the floor to figure out what's going on and to his surprise he sees that he is no longer Albert. He is now the bear. The sad bear, stuck in a cage. The Albert outside turns around and walks away. "Wait!!!" The bear shouts. He's not sure if it's coming out as words or as roars. To him it's understandable at least.

Albert tries to bull rush the cage, maybe he can force his way out. He hits the metal bars and they hurt his shoulder something fierce. "Wait! Don't leave me here! I don't feel well!" He needs help, but there is nobody to come and help him. Tears roll down his snout and he sniffs to keep the snot from dripping. A scent hits him.

Roald. I smell Roald. He thinks, his head looking up and around to see where that smell is coming from. He sniffs again trying to pinpoint its origin.

A sudden breeze rushes through the large cage. A warm, possibly summer wind. For a second it sound like a whisper in Albert's ear as it hits the bars. Raynor, Raynor... But Raynor seemed so far away right now. The bears sickness felt like a thick blanket on his mind. Raynor... Pray to Raynor.. Again, as if someone is trying to send him a message.

Then some movement catches his attention. "Roald!!!! Roald!!! Over here!" Albert shouts. What are they doing here? Goes through his mind. How long have I been here? Did I miss my watch switch? All very good questions, but so far he's gotten no answers to anything. Why not? What was keeping him from getting answers? He needed guidance.

Lille arrives at the animal cages after trekking across the whole carnival, but it is also right around the corner from where they started. And Roald got there first? But he was behind me? Then she sees the bear in the cage yell at Roald. When she looks again, Albert is in the cage. "Are they both the bear?" she asks Roald. She walks up to the bear outside the cage and uses Wildspeak to say, "Who are you? Who is Raynor?"

Lille's words cause Albert to pause for a moment before speaking. His mind is racing. Raynor, there's that word again. Must be someone I know. No time to dwell on that now.

"Lille. It's me, Albert." The bear says. "I think a witch must have made me switch places with this bear." He points to the lock of the cage with his snout. "Can you get me out?"

Just when Lille fades out of sight for the fifth time, Roald's attention is drawn by a loud noise. He stops running, or what should be running if it wasn't for this porridge his legs seem to made out of, and listens.
A deep growl is coming from his left side.
there it is again
He makes his way towards the origin of the sound. And the closer he gets the more certain he is he can hear his name hidden inside the growl.
It's a bear... In a cage... He's seen this bear before.
''Do you know me?'' he tries to say but his voice is not quite firm yet.

- are they both the bear?

Lille came out of nowhere and is standing next to him.
'' what do you mean? Both?'' Roald's throat feels dry.
''Is this the bear that ate the poisoned honey?''

It looks like Lille is communicating with the bear, but Roald strangely is able to make out a couple of words hidden inside the growling.

"I don’t know anything about this." Lille looks at the lock like it is completely foreign to her. "If only Ezme was here. She might be strong enough to smash it with a big rock." She looks between Roald and Albert, weighing their options. "Normally I’d run to get her but here I don’t know if I can. Or if I could get out and then in again." She regards the cage suspiciously. "You said a ‘witch’ did this? Where are they now?"

"I don't know" Albeart answers "I mean, I didn't see any witch. But it must have been one, right?" He's not sure what's going on at all. "Strange things are happening. Who woke you up?"

"Roald, it's me. Albert." He says to his friend. "I really don't feel good." Albeart slumps down and rests his head on his paws as the world begins to spin.

Lille realizes that Roald may not be able to understand bear-Albert. "This is Albert," she explains. "...I think. He says a witch switched his body into a bear’s. Maybe we need his regular body to get him back?" She’s starting to look a little overwhelmed, especially at the thought of running around the Carnevale some more. "Tell us something Albert would know. What did you offer to do when you talked to me before I went fishing?" She switches to Wildspeak for the last part, giving the bear’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze as he slumps down.

Before Albert has a chance to answer, there is a giant BOOM of a cannon somewhere out of sight, rumbling the ground underfoot. Any hero who looks up sees a wisp of smoke rising and a humanoid blur flying through the air, more than forty feet overhead.

Though they appear to be dressed in bright colors like one of the carnival workers, the figure doesn't act very professional. They wave their arms wildly and you hear a long cry of "FRAAAAAAAAACK!!" -- an exclamation that raises in pitch and intensity in step with the figure's increasingly speedy descent back to the earth.

It's at this moment that your shocked and frazzled mind probably pieces together that this is fact your friend Ezme.

Your eyes follow her descent until you hear a KA-WHUMP -- the sound of our human cannonball slamming into the top of a carnival tent about 100 meters away. Something stick-like in shape spins and tumbles through the air behind her, landing somewhere in her vicinity with a loud clang.

BOOM
The deafening blast shakes Roald to the bone. His jaw drops and for a moment all he can do is point.
A black shape is getting clearer by the second. Is it a bird? Is it a giant leave? No it's... It's...
'' That's Ezme!?''
He watches her hit the canvas and sliding down to the ground.
'' stay here with Albert, Lille. I'll go and get her. ''
Roald starts running in the direction of the tent, which isn't hard to spot. But again it is taking forever to get there. It feels like he has to drag his legs through a thick soup. To his surprise it seems that if he puts in less effort he is actually moving quicker.

Upon impact, the tent deflates, all the air blowing out of the open tent flap and burbling raspberries like an untied balloon. Ezme slides down the side as it sinks, then struggles to sit up once she (and the collapsed tent beneath her) finally touch ground.

The staff!!! Where had it gone???

Ezme's eyes scan around her until they finally rest on Albert's holy weapon, laying on the ground about six meters away. She had to get it! But the pull of gravity feels like chains dragging her down. Unable to rise fully to her feet, the trapper grits her teeth and determinedly starts to crawl toward the staff, her eyes fixed upon it.

The familiar sound of whistles and scornful laughter assaults her ears, and a crowd of feet steps between her and the staff, blocking her view of it. Sighing, Ezme sits back and looks up to see a group of men wearing harem pants stitched in the style of her people. They surround her, jeering. Something inside her scowls, already knowing how this plays out.

"Would you look at this one! Have you ever seen anything like it!?" one of the men laughs.
"A beast!"
"You here for contest!?" a jokester with tight curls goads. He turns to his friends. "... I think she thinks she will be next circus strong man!" He makes a muscle in demonstration.
"Oi, pathetic," one of them comments in response to his companion's flexed bicep. He smacks the curly-haired fellow across his abs. "This creature is more man than you are, Gavet!"
"Would probably please your wife better in bed, too!" tags on another. The mob hoots with laughter.

Another man, clearly the alpha, steps forward, his lip curling with disdain. He seems more outraged about Ezme's presence than amused. "Overgrown bhavanti. That is what this is.... It is pitiful," he snarls. He shoves his chin at her as he addresses her, his tone self-possessed but cold. "Get out. You do not belong in this arena."

Ezme stares back at him with unflinching defiance. She knows her line. She delivers it just the same as she'd done that day: "You are scared to let me compete. You are scared you will be beat by woman."

A smaller, more slender fellow with a goatee jeers: "'Woman!?' That's what you call yourself! So... is that why you are dressed like whore??"

This last line comes entirely as a surprise. He had gone off-script! Taken aback, Ezme glances down at her outfit. She is apparently wearing skin-tone leggings and a shiny blue leotard with white stars up the arms. The neckline of the leotard plunges to her navel and is loosely laced up the front. On either side of the lacing is half of a sequined red heart, giving the impression of a heart torn in two and then raggedly stitched back together. Ezme is suddenly abashed. This outfit... It is ridiculous... It is revealing... It is not her at all.

"That is right. You are fooling no one," the alpha continues cruelly. "You are not woman. You are freak...."

Unfortunately, Lille misses most of Ezme’s dramatic flight overhead. At the crack of the cannon, a child-like cry escapes her lips and she hunches against the bars of the cage in a wild fright. "Where is it? Where is the storm?!?" Her voice is near hysterical, and she only glances up from cowering long enough to catch a brief glimpse of their erstwhile rescuer in the air. Then she ducks down again, huddled and whimpering as she slowly self soothes.

Albeart flinches at the noise. For a second he's hopeful that something broke the lock, but sadly that's not the case. A tent off in the distance behind Lille looks like it's hit by a large boulder. A sound of loud flatulation follows. Then, because of Roald's words, he understands what happened. But... How come she was flying?

"This world is getting stranger by the minute." He tells Lille but sees that she's cowering against the cage. "Storm? What storm?" Albeart looks up at the sky. It looks odd but not stormy at the moment. "Was that really Ezme? Maybe she can bust open this cage!" Hopeful, he stands up on all 4 legs again, trying to get a better look of what's going on. He nuzzles Lille's shoulder. "You alright?"

''STAND ASIDE! ALL OF YOU!''
Roald walks through the crowd, he has the wooden duck in his stretched out hand. Like if it was some sort of magical item. All heads turn in his direction.

Something inside Ezme can’t decide whether she is relieved or mortified to hear Roald’s voice. Not quite processing his words nor what is in his hands, her primary objective is getting to her feet before he sees her reduced to crawling… but she can’t. She can’t get up! What was wrong with her???

Lille cuddles against the bear’s big form as if it were natural for her. She gulps and shudders, trying get control of herself. "I’m fine," she claims, the waver in her voice belying her words. "I just didn’t see the lightning first," she murmurs. The excuse seems weak even to her, and she takes a deep breath. "I will be fine." Her voice is a bit steadier, and she lifts her head. "Was that really Ezme?"

The crowd opens up and Roald sees Ezme laying on a tarp that used to be a tent. He hands her the duckling.
'' AS IT WAS WRITTEN YOU CAME DOWN FROM THE SKIES, TO SAVE US ALL. NOW STAND, DAMSEL OF THE DUCK!''
Roald kneels and bows his head.

At first, Ezmaray ashamedly assumes that Roald is quacking a joke at her expense, but in catching his glance as he kneels, she is struck by his sincere expression.

Well, either this wasn't really Roald, Roald had gone insane, or.... Could this duck actually...? Ezmaray looks down at the oddity in her hands and then back at Roald's curiously reverent form, a surge of energy suddenly reviving her. Be it through her companion's faith or be it through a renewed sense of purpose, somehow her weakness falls away, and Ezme finds the strength to draw herself back up to her feet. As she does so, the hair on her head sprouts in a patchwork of lengths and brownish hues -- thick and shaggy. Her leotard shifts from blue to mottled shades of brown and tan, darker tufts of fur sprouting where the sequins once were.

Rising up to her full height, Ezmaray roars furiously at the jeering men, baring her teeth as she does so.

"I am not freak!" she laughs bitterly as their eyes widen with alarm. "You were right first time. I am beast!" Feeling fine and fierce as the king of the jungle, she turns to Roald. "Come, my duckling." The men fall back as Ezme grabs Roald by the wrist, tugging him to follow her in the direction of Albert's staff.

"I believe it might be." Albeart answers. "If only I could get out of here and check." Then he remembers something Lille said earlier. "You mentioned a name earlier. Ray? Something like Ray." He says inquisitively. "Is this someone important?" He doesn't seem to be able to remember Raynor in this world. Perhaps something is blocking his knowledge.

Roald has no other choice than to obey and follow Ezme.
'' Where are we going? The others are over there''
Politely he tries to nudge her in the right direction but it's like he isn't even there.

Fueled forward by her fury, Ezmaray tucks the wooden duck in her bosom and pulls Roald along behind her, the crowd parting before her. She freezes in her tracks, staring at the spot where the staff had once been.

"It... It was right here!" she clammers in dismay, searching the area urgently. "Albert's staff! We must get it to him!" she blurts, anticipating Roald's question. "And we need to find Daryl! He is in trouble..." she continues, suddenly remembering this detail herself (though now she can't quite piece together how she is so certain of this fact)....

"There it is!" she says, pointing as she catches a glimpse of the staff slithering through the grass toward another tent.

Albert's staff is a large serpent. Of course it was. She'd known this all along.

Ezme dashes headlong toward it, leaping dexterously through a lion tamer's ring to get to it as quickly as possible -- but then she hesitates with hand outstretched just a few inches away from the reptile. Was it poisonous? Surely it would bite her... While she wavers, Albert's staff/snake takes the opportunity to slip under the edge of the tent, taking shelter within.

"Frack!" Ezme curses, biting her own faltering fist. "This way, Roald! We must catch it!" Ezme is a raging force of nature, hooking arms with Roald and tugging him haplessly through the flap of the tent with her. As they burst inside, Ezme stops in her tracks. "Is that Daryl?!?"

"Well there’s Raynor, your... god," Lille says dismissively, not seeming to fully understand the term. "But I’ve never met them." She seems to do some quick math, the change of subject pulling her fully out of her previous fear. "If that was Ezme, then where are Daryl and Theo? Everyone was asleep when I left. I just meant to check here for a few minutes to see if there was any threat..." How much time has passed? She struggles between concern and guilt for a few moments, the expressions growing more and more pronounced.

"I’m sorry," she says, her voice low but intense. She stands up straight with one hand on her staff. But instead of leaning on it, it appears to be part of her strength. "I will do better," she declares firmly.

"Yes Raynor. Why does that sound so familiar? Yet I can't put a face to it." The question is easily ignored when Lille changes the subject.

"What woke you up then?" Albeart asks her. "Because I saw you asleep when I came to check out this place. Also, who sets up a circus in the middle of the night? I haven't seen Daryl or Theo. They must still be sleeping."

''Oh my, Daryl.''
Roald wants to run over to Daryl but when he spots the snake, he freezes.
'' You should feed the duck to the snake so it will turn into wood again''
He has no idea where this knowledge comes from, but when the words leave his mouth they sound right.
''Just throw it to the snake''

Ezme does her best not to shrivel at the sound of Daryl's wretched screaming. She nods her head at Roald's suggestion. "Right." She fishes out the wooden duck and runs swiftly, stopping between the snake and Daryl. She tosses the duck so that it lands directly in front of the slithering creature.

"Nothing woke me," Lille explains patiently, managing to keep almost all of the defensiveness out of her voice. " YOU were all sleeping and it was my watch. I never went to sleep.." She trails off in confusion, suddenly uncertain of her claims. "What woke you up?" She looks around at the tents suspiciously, obviously in agreement about the middle-of-the-night carnival being strange in many ways.

Roald quickly runs over to Daryl, and tries to remove him from the tent by grabbing Daryl under his armpits and pulling hard. But Daryl's to heavy... Or he is to weak.
'' We're here Daryl, look I have the Damsel of the Duck with me. Everything will be alright now''
'' We need to get him out of here! Let's work together ''

Ezme hovers next to the staff as Roald runs to Daryl's side, still reticent to touch the holy weapon, but afraid to leave it lest it transform again.

She nods urgently at Roald’s suggestion. "First come get the staff!" she yells over the din, waving Roald over.

... The screaming is horrendous. She can't think straight.

Roald lets go of Daryl and turns around to pick up the staff.
He thinks for a few seconds and then takes the staff with both his hands. One on each end of the stick.
He looks at Ezme, his expression saying 'was this so hard to do?'

Ezme squints her eyes at Roald in response to his unspoken critique, then runs to Daryl.

"Shake out of it, warrior!" she says, rattling him gently by the shoulders. This does not work to rouse him from his terrified, screaming trance, however it does trigger a memory in her mind.

Yes, she had already been through this....

There was something about his neck. I need to...? Ezme wraps one of her arms under each of Daryl's, hoisting him up off his knees in an awkward, dangling hug. As she does so, she places her hands over the base of his neck, pressing the warmth of her palms there, not entirely sure what (if anything) will happen....

"Wait..." Albeart says "I was asleep? But I was keeping watch. You were as well? This doesn't make sense." he looks at her questioningly. "What's going on? Where are we?"

Lille’s eyes open wide as she takes in Albeart’s words, and she goes as taught as a wire as the realizations dawn on her. "Are we.. sleeping? Or.. not in our bodies?" Each impossible sounding question only makes her more frightened, like a cornered animal.

But cornered animals are often the most dangerous ones, and Lille is clearly in that sort of mood by now. Without a word, she stands up and strides over to the nearest passing worker. As they go past her, her purposeful gait changes to a sudden low sweep of her staff, trying to cut their legs from under them.

Lille appears unmoved by their emotions and points the end of her staff at their throat. "What is this place? Where are we? And no more stories!"

Roald, thinking Ezme is trying to get Daryl out of the tent, jams the staff behind his sword belt next to his sword.
my sword...
It's the most beautiful sword he's ever seen. The handle inlayed with gems, and when he draws it... Of course he draws it... He can see his own reflection in the beautifully polished steel.
Damn I'm one handsome son of a butch. Errrr,... What?...
Daryl's screams pull him out of his 'thinking loop'
He wants to put the sword back, but it's already there at his side again. Only now the handle is the same as his dad's hatchet. Worn and dirty.

Roald walks over to Daryl and hoists him by the legs.
'' I'll walk backwards, let's go''
And he starts pulling Daryl's legs (which are far heavier than he expected) in the direction of the exit.

Albeart watches in disbelief as Lille takes direct action. Was he really in a dream world, or some outer body experience? I would explain the strange things he's been seeing. "But if we are sleeping and this is a dream, Lille. Can't we do whatever we want?"

He puts this to the test and focuses on the metal bars of the cage. If Lille is right, then these bars don't exist and should simply vanish as he tries to walk through them. He takes a deep bear's breath and closes his eyes, trying to believe that the cage doesn't exist.

"Explain!" Lille demands. "What is it that keeps you trapped here? How are you prevented from leaving? Though the young woman stands over her prey as fiercely as she started, her aggression seems on hold while they are speaking.

With Roald's urging, Ezme distractedly hauls Daryl toward the exit. As she does so, she turns her attention toward Roald, trying to observe if there is a similar shadowy cord attached to him and -- if so -- what direction that cord is leading....

A tear runs down Albeart's cheek. Then another, and another. Every drop hitting the ground with the sound of a hammer, at least in Albeart's mind. Is this what happened to Asha? He thinks. Locked inside an invisible cage. How long has it been? Weeks since we left that temple. He growls in anger at the thought. How could this have been happening right under their noses? A ferocious roar escapes his mouth. Loud enough to be heard far and wide. "I won't stand idly by while she suffers." He says out loud and gets ready to put all of his strength into breaking out of this glass prison.

Lille narrows her eyes at the hapless worker but shifts her staff away from their throat. She points her other hand towards Albeart. "Who has the keys to that... cage.." By the end of the sentence she sees that the bars are gone. Ignoring the worker, she rushes over. "Where is the cage? No, that doesn’t matter. We must find your body that has the.. bear in it." Lille seems uncertain about how the whole body swapping concept might work, but her whole body radiates determination to set things right.

Roald looks at Daryl's peaceful face.
'' Let's give him a minute before we wake him up. I'm sure he can use it after what he's seen''

As Lille catches sight of Albeart’s tears, her purposeful energy stills. Before she can ask about them, his roar rings out through the air. Lille is slightly taken aback, but shows no fear. Rather, she looks up at him with some wonderment and a solemn respect.

"Do you mean Ezme?" she asks when he finishes speaking. "I’m sure we can find her and Roald now that you’re out of there." Her enthusiasm for action returns a bit as she looks in the direction that their companions were last seen.

Ezme internally heaves a sigh of relief as Daryl quiets. Huffing a little to catch her breath, she rubs the back of her own neck with a slight frown, then turns to Roald. She nods her head in agreement.

"Roald... This will sound weird, but can I...?" The trapper works hard to mask her internal squirming as she reaches out, sliding her fingers around his neck to the back. Her eyes meet his as she registered the numbing coldness there, as well, a look of blushing consternation growing on her face. She swallows, then says softly:

"Remember how with shadow bees, you could not look straight at them? I noticed something out of corner of my eye -- a shadow cord -- attached to back of Daryl's neck... It is leading somewhere I do not know... And I think... I think you have one, too... Just feel there, on your neck...." She removes her hand, gesturing for Roald to feel for himself.

"I'm still stuck in this damned cage!" Albeart tells Lille, his voice filled with a mixture of anger and anguish. He stands up on his hind legs and paws at the glass box as if he's a boxer to no avail. "The bars might be gone, but the cage is not."

"I was talking about Asha." He continues. "A friend of ours. I now realize what she had been going through and how helpless it makes you feel. Perhaps she is also to be found in this circus."

Roald feels the back of his neck. It doesn't feel like something physical, more like a sensation of coldness.
"Cant't we just cut it?
Roald takes his dagger and starts making cutting motions behind his back, it looks very clumsy.
"This doesn't seem to work. Let's try to wake up Daryl and get back to the cages. We've been gone quite some time already"
Roald starts shaking Daryl and calling out his name, hoping for him to wake up.

"Asha.." Lille murmurs to herself as she runs a hand over the previously unseen glass. She frowns at his continued confinement. "I don’t like this place," she says darkly. Glancing down at her staff she raises it up to strike the glass. "Move back if you can," she warns, and then slams the butt of her staff near the corner furthest from Albeart.

Lille lowers the staff, but the breath she draws for a shout of victory turns into a long sigh as she surveys the broken glass. The few bits in her clothes are concerning, but far more so is the sea of sharp pieces surrounding her bare feet. She sets the staff carefully on the ground and resignedly gets to work, oblivious of any audience around her.

First, she slowly strips off her shirt and then the long strip of cloth that’s wrapped around her chest. She methodically shakes them free of glass, remembering to also shake out her short hair. Seeing the long cloth gives her an idea, and she puts her shirt back on without it. "It’s just a dream.." she says to herself as she cuts the cloth in half with her knife. Then she removes her skirt and underwear, putting the latter back on when it’s been cleared of shards. Using her knife again, she cuts the side panels from the skirt, so it becomes more of a loincloth.

With her remaining garments back on, she squats down and sets to work on her feet. She carefully raises one from its original spot and brushes it clean. Next she sets down a cloth strip and leather skirt panel, before setting her foot on top. Then she wraps the cloth around, securing the leather to her sole. She repeats the process on her other foot. The result is a soft sort of sandal that is at least secure enough to her her out of the glass without injury, and possibly further if her movement continues to be slowed.

Lille then picks up her staff and looks to Albeart, acknowledging his presence with a nod. "I am ready now. If you move slowly, the bear’s paws should do ok to get you out of here.

Ezme drops Daryl and reaches for her hunting blade, only to find it gone--!?!

Oh, right. Upon entering the dream, she had been forced to trade the dagger for the staff, she rationalizes, her mind constructing a false memory to explain the mysterious absence of something she never travels without.

As Ezme stands there trying to make sense of this scene, the glass shatters under Lille's blow. The trapper steps back, instinctively shielding her face from cascade of glass, though it comes nowhere near her. As the pieces settle, Ezme steps back forward and roars at the bear to intimidate it. She stands poised, ready to try to ward it off should it approach one of her crew.

The creature displays no signs of aggression, but -- to her dismay -- the druid girl starts removing her clothes in front of them. Ezme's face burns red with shock and a spark of outrage as she glances at Roald. ... Whatever.... She had larger concerns.

"Where is Albert??" Ezme barks, still eying the bear suspiciously as she addresses both Roald and Lille.

Albeart shakes his thick fur, dropping shards of glass to the ground all around him. When thoroughly shaken, het looks up to see Lille pretty much naked in front of him. Somehow, being a bear, it doesn't faze him at all. After all, he's naked right now too. He steps forward slowly, relying on his bear paws to shield him from the glass. "Thanks, Lille." He says and puts his snout between her ankles. With a swift head motion he lifts her up onto his shoulders and carries her away from the dangerous shards.

"Ezme, it's me. Albert." He says as he gets closer to his friends.

Lille hardly looks up from her task, and is too focused to react much to the hollering. What does get through confuses her. In addition to ridding her clothes of glass, she checks over her various parts as they become exposed. But there is nothing different or unusual about herself, save for a few faint scratches from the rain of glass. Puzzled, she completes her work and resolves to inquire with her companions once they are out of the nightmare.

As Albeart scoops her up she clutches onto the fur of his shoulders and settles herself with a quick self-bearratement. Why did I not think of this? This place slows my movement AND thinking. I must learn to work more like a true pack member.

With that in mind, she addresses Ezme as they approach the others. "This is Albeart- I mean, Albert." She slides down from his shoulders once they are clear of the glass. "He says he switched bodies with the bear because of a witch. Now we need to find his body to switch them back." Her uncertainty about the body swap concept is quickly replaced by concern when she sees Daryl. "What’s wrong with him? And where is Theo?"

Roald looks at Daryl's unconscious body.
''He is... He is... I don't know. We just need to get out of this place!''
There is a slight panic in Roald's voice.
'' Maybe Albeart can carry him while we search for his body. We also have his magical snake to help make the switch ''
When he notices the weird looks on everybody's faces he shows them the staff:
'' I mean staff... Not snake ''

Ezme requires no explanation. She realizes who Albeart is the minute she looks in the eyes of the bear. The fact that he is a bear doesn't strike her as odd at all; it's certainly no stranger than the fact that she is a lion right now. (Sort of.) All this talk of body swapping makes little sense to her.

At the mention of Theo, however, Ezme's memories suddenly kick in and her eyes widen.

"Theo is on other side! You are--! We are" she corrects, "... unconscious.... This is dream... some sort of illusion caused by shadow bee venom!"

Ezme motions for Roald to give Albeart the staff. "I came to deliver message to Albert. Albert, you must say prayer to Raynor. If you can wake us, we should be in our normal bodies! I hope." She suppresses an uncertain grimace.

''A dream? That does explain a lot of the weird stuff that happened to me''
Roald tries to give the staff to Albeart but when there is no way for the bear to hold it he takes it back.
'' I'll keep it safe for you, buddy''
'' Alright, we need to find his body, I hate to say it, but I'm afraid the fastest way is to split up...''

Albeart takes the staff in his mouth, unsure what to do next. The wood feels familiar, but it's like his memory can't figure out why. He gives it back to Roald.
"I don't know. I want to help, but I can't figure out how. Raynor sounds like an old acquaintance. But I really don't remember much of him."

He looks up as he spots movement out of the corner of his eye. "There! The witch!" He catches a glimpse of a female shape dressed in black and a pointy wide-brimmed hat. The person disappears behind one of the tents further down. Albeart starts to chase it without thinking, Lille still on his back. "Stop, witch! I need my body back!"

Ezmaray frowns at this unexpected dilemma as Roald and Albeart exchange the staff back and forth.

The fact that Albert's memories of Raynor had been "erased" suggests that they are on the right track to figuring out how to escape this place. She wasn't entirely sure that the solution to their problem was to find Albert's body, however. Whoever was in charge of this place might simply find some other way to mess with them. They needed to confront the source of the problem... which could probably be found at the other end of all these shadow cords....

As the others stand relatively still and converse, she squints her eyes, trying to focus on the cords and the direction they lead. Finally getting a good look at them, she opens her mouth to tell the others. Just then, Albeart spies the supposed witch and begins his headlong dash.

Ezme and Roald’s words spark her memory as to what the carnival worker had said, but before she can mention it she is whisked away. Hadn’t she gotten off the bear’s shoulders? Somehow she is back on, but it makes sense. Like how Ezme is sort of a lion, but also not. Has she always been this way?

Lille has to put away her questions in order to hold on, and also keep a grip on her staff without whacking Albeart upside the head. It gives her little time to think about the crowd that had been curious about her initial ride, and now flees before their thundering charge. Lille hadn’t seen whatever witch Albeart had spotted, but looks forward with curiosity to catching their prey.

As Albeart comes up to the strange tent, Lille espies the woman sitting unperturbed inside. Pointing her staff, Lille calls out imperiously, "Who are you? What have you done with this man’s body?"

"Wait!" Ezme calls after Albeart. She grabs ahold of Daryl and attempts to pursue while dragging the unconscious lad behind her, but movement feels slow -- painfully slow, like she's dragging them both through thigh-high mud. The trapper stops, releasing Daryl and cursing in her native tongue.

No. This is dream. And if it is dream, then... Frack this! And with that, Ezme bends her knees and launches herself skyward with all her might, spreading her arms wide. Up she goes, then hovers effortlessly in the air about twelve feet off the ground, looking down on Roald and Daryl still slogging beneath her. A giddy, defiant feeling courses through her before she scoops back down, attempting to grab Daryl by an arm and take him with her.

Daryl still feels heavy -- she is unable to lift him fully off the ground to fly with her -- but she is able to drag him much faster and easier while in flight. Pulling ahead, she turns, flashing Roald a grin. "Hey Roald, what goes zzub zzub zzub?" She only waits a couple seconds before continuing, "Bee flying backward!" She lets out a laugh at the inanity of the joke, then turns back around and continues flying, the knight in tow.

At this time, Roald observes that Ezme looks like herself again, except... Not only is she unbound by gravity, but there is also a different sort of lightness about her. Her smile is broad, joyful, and free in a way that Roald has not before witnessed.

It's delightful, but fleeting. The moment is gone just as quickly as it came as she turns back around, "beelining" after the shadow cords and their companions.

"Did you see where the bear went with his body?" Lille asks suspiciously. She keeps her staff pointed at the woman, though more commandingly than an attempt to strike with or throw it. She leans forward slightly, trying to get a better view of the stranger’s veiled face and cards.

zubb zubb? What ? The joke doesn't get through to him seeing Ezme levitate keeps every braincell occupied for the moment.

''Ezme, wait'' Roald shouts after her, but when she flies away with Daryl's feet leaving tracks in the sand make his voice weak. He is too surprised to react immediately.
She looked different too, a bit translucent... Like the wasps they encountered before. He notices her shape is clearer when he is not looking directly at her. But the smile on her face tells him she is happy.
With a sluggish pace he starts running after her, still holding Albeart's staff in one hand. But it feels funny, the balance is off. Little branches are sprouting on one end of the staff growing longer with every step he takes, turning it into a broom.
Roald stops and looks around, thinking.
what was I doing again?

He starts brushing away the tracks made by Daryl.
This way they will never track us down. Hehe
He is very pleased with his own ingenuity.

"I know how to read."Lille frowns at the woman and the cards, confusion plain on her face. "We just want to find this man’s body."

Albeart uses his giant maw to bite a leg of the chair in front of there fortune teller's table. With a slight snarl, he pulls it back and walks closer to the table to where the seat used to be. He leaves the rest up to Lille.

Lille glances around the room, taking care to look mostly behind the witch and to the side, without turning away from her. When she doesn’t find any words to read, she gives up on the woman’s puzzling line of thought. She lowers her staff as Albeart settles down to sit; still regarding the woman suspiciously, but willing to talk.

"What rules do you have to work with?" The woman’s statement gives her another idea. "Another worker here said that... deeds or things unlived or mislived could hold people here," she explains, to Albeart but also to the witch. "What deeds or regrets are holding you?"

Albeart looks up at Lille "It's just a dream, right?" He tells her "It doesn't really matter what happens. As soon as we wake up, it will all be back to normal." Then he looks at the deck of cards. "I say go for it."

"Okay..." Lille agrees, as puzzled as ever. She draws her knife and leans forward to slice the deck with it.

Ezmaray decides she should check inside the tent to make sure that Albeart and Lille are alright. Cautiously she steps down onto the ground in the entryway to peer inside. Gravity, she notes, still barely seems to acknowledge her existence.

Seeing the relatively peaceful scene within the tent, Ezme lightly prances forward, resting Daryl next to Albeart. As she nears, she briefly notes Lille attempting to chop something on the table with her blade and the scowling expression of a lady in black, who curses the girl and gestures her away.

Ezme leans in toward the bear who she sees attempting to perch awkwardly on a chair, suggesting into his fluffy, round ear: "Maybe next time, try putting heavy dude in armor on your back before suddenly hauling it?" She cocks her head at the unconscious knight, her expression both smirking and sincere.

Her eyes glide back over to the woman in black, pausing briefly over what appears to be odd cards on the table before her. She shakes her head dismissively and turns back to Albeart and Lille. "Only more distractions. I am following your suspicious shadow cords to see where they lead. Time to find dream boss and put end to this." She turns to leave.

Lille is surprised by the clean slice, and pauses to think about Ezme’s differing opinion. She knows her way around in the woods. But Albert seems to know about this game. She weighs her choices a moment longer, but there’s some kind of draw that compels her to stay. For some reason, this is *important*.

"I will stay and see what this is," she tells Ezme. "Albeart can roar if there’s trouble. We can meet back here when you find out about the.. shadow cords." Lille regards Daryl for a moment then adds, "Perhaps you should take Roald, wherever he is."

Then she turns back to the table, and looks curiously over the card pieces that are up. "Who’s turn is it? How is this game played?" she asks the fortune teller.

Roald keeps sweeping the tracks left by Daryl's feet dragging over the sandy soil. Now and then he stops, and suspiciously looks around to make sure no one is following... There never is.
Everyone is minding their business... Or are they...?
best check again
Finally he reaches the fortune teller's tent, walks in head down concentrated on the tracks until he swipes the dust of off Daryl's feet and simultaneously bumps into Ezme who is on her way out.
''HEY! WATCH IT!
Roald lifts his head and takes in the scene... Wondering what he was doing just a few seconds ago. Albert's staff is in his hand, resting with one end on Daryl. He scratches the back of his head. The last thing he remembers is Ezme flying away... Did he really see that?
''errrr. What are you doing ? Is this a good time to play cards? Shouldn't we be searching for Albeart's body?''

Albeart look apologetically at Ezme. "Sorry. I saw the witch and I just made a run for it." He tells her. "Please leave him with me. I will keep him safe." Some translation from Lille may be required to get the message accross, but the fact that Albeart puts a leg over Daryl in a defensive gesture could have been enough.

Then as soon as she came in, she's leaving again. "What are shadow cords?" He asks after she turns around. "Could they lead to my body?" Nothing is making sense in this world. It's impossible for Albert to think logically about things. Perhaps he should just give up and go with what's offered. Right now that appears to be the witch's card game.

He's happy to see Roald come in as well. "Lille is trying this game, Roald." He tells him. "The witch says she has information. That she's trying to help us. I don't know how much of it is true though. But then again... Is anything true right now?" All this dream world stuff is making his head spin. Hopefully Lille can figure out something during the game. He decides to keep a close eye on the cards, to make sure the witch isn't trying to do anything shifty.

Lille translates Albeart’s words to the others, seeming pleased to be useful. As she turns back to the cards, a sudden thought strikes her. "Oh! Is this a betting game? I didn’t bring any money," she says apologetically to the fortune teller. "But I could learn how to play," she offers, hoping to soothe the strange woman. To Albeart, she explains, "We didn’t have any cards, but Jordash told me that some people at the inn would play betting games with cards. He went into town to trade furs sometimes, and usually went to the inn for a drink and the news."

She leans over to examine the cards, resting her staff on the ground for balance. "He said that... different pictures and numbers were worth different amounts." She speaks slowly, working to dredge up the proper memory. "And that... in some games, different groups of cards were worth more than others. I seem to have a lot of these stars," she offers brightly, pointing to the pentacles. "Is that good? Or are they your cards?" She gives the fortune teller a small smile, hoping that her enthusiasm to learn and play the game will make up for breaking whatever other rules she seems to be running afoul of.

Lille’s brow furrows at the woman’s ‘advice’. "Is that a good move?" she asks Albeart. "Do you know this game?" She glances at the woman, hoping to get a hint from her expression.

Unconcerned about the mysterious lady's interest, Ezmaray nods at Lille, then turns to Albert. "I do not know if these shadow cords lead to your body, but they are connected to your heads, and I suspect they lead to the one responsible for all this. I will see where they lead and demand answers." With that, she pulls out her...

Shit. Still no hunting knife.

With that, she grabs ineffectively at her hip where her knife should have been, frowns and shakes her head, then strides to the opening of the tent... bumping directly into Roald.

Out of nowhere a voice cries, "HEY, WATCH IT!" Was that Theo's voice??

Ezmaray looks around with confusion, seeking the invisible speaker while Roald takes in the scene and has his exchange with Albert.

Shaking it off, she turns back to Roald, saying quietly to him after Albeart offers his explanation: "I think they are getting sucked into dream and dream logic. You and I -- we must stay focused. Come with me to follow shadow cords to the Source. I would like to meet architect behind all this."

Lille seems hopeful as she translates her companions words, but when the fortune teller replies, something seems to snap for the young woman. Whatever frustration that was mounting seems to reach a peak, at the same time as her interest in the cards ceases suddenly. "Yes," she agrees coldly with the other woman. "At least they usually make some sense," she says, ignoring that fact that she has no idea what the "shadow cords" are that Ezme mentioned.

"I think we’re done here," she says to Albeart. "Let’s go see what we can find with the others." She motions for him to scoop Daryl up with her so she can steady him as they ride. She now has almost no interest in the fortune teller, except to keep general sight of where the woman is.

Ezme's explanation sounds logical to Roald.
'' I can come with you, if you keep your feet on the ground. The sooner we find that source, the sooner we can get out of here. I have seen some strange things since I arrived at this circus. ''
Roald takes another look at the staff, that was a broom before. There's nothing special to see there.
Before he leaves he wedges the staff behind Daryl's belt, just in case Albeart would become himself again.

When Albeart, Lille, Daryl, and the fortune teller leave the tent, they catch sight of Roald and Ezme about twenty paces away. Ezme has paused, one hand on Roald's shoulder. She appears to be watching a young teen practicing a fire poi dancing routine. Flaming balls dance around him to create hypnotically beautiful glowing geometric shapes in the air. Ezme is once again wearing the sequined blue outfit with white stars up the arms, but now the red heart on the chest has been cinched closed.

As they approach, Albeart and the others see her call out to the teen, who pauses in his routine. She kneels before the kid, exchanging words with him that they cannot hear, and sets something on the ground before him. Hesitantly the teen nods and the woman stands. He hands the flaming poi over to her, then collects the item she'd offered from the ground, tucking it into his jacket pocket. He stands back to watch how she handles the flaming balls in her possession.

Ezme gives the poi a few test swings before getting into it. Her dance movements are different than those of the kid, but she appears to know what she is doing. She pauses in her dance as the others near.

She looks to Albeart. "Fight shadow with fire," she says gravely. She holds his eyes for a while, hoping to trigger a memory in him, then points with one hand, causing a swinging, flaming point to create an arc of light with the gesture. "Shadow cords lead this way. Do you not see them?" she remarks. "Look from corner of eye, just like with bees." She starts to stride that direction with purpose.

"I don’t think I am?"Lille replies distractedly. She watches Ezme acquire the fire with curiosity, not realizing why until the hunter speaks to Albeart. Her eyes go a little wide with remembrance; she has been so caught up the carnival that she had forgotten about the shadow bees incident. When Ezme mentions the shadow cords, Lille glances away from the fire to readjust her eyes before checking in the direction indicated. She jerks her head with a start when she spots the one leading to herself. She tries to grab at it, then takes out her knife like she wants to slice it.

When Roald whatches Ezme kneel before the kid. He notices something strange. She appears to have become a bit more translucent. The flames are showing through... Through her body.
A sense of urgency comes over him. The more time they spend in this place... The lighter she gets.
He raises his hand to check if he too is see-through already.
He has to step closer to a torch, but yes, it seems he can see the fire flickering through his hand.

Or is his mind playing tricks on him once again?

A low growl escapes from Lille as she tries and fails to slice the cord. "Let’s go," she says to Albeart. She has the right idea about following those cords." she adds, with a nod towards Ezme. As they ride, Lille steadies Daryl with one hand and holds her staff with the other. She glances around for potential threats as she keeps an eye on(or not on, as it were) the cords. Every now and then she twitches a little at the thought of the phantom attachment.

"Up ahead." Albeart says to Lille as they move. "Those people seem to be putting up a barricade or something." He looks back at the others. There was something about fire. He needs to remember that. And although he's a bear now, he used to be a man. Right? Things are getting muddled in his head. But with Lille's guidance, he presses on.

"Do we stop and wait for the others?"

Ezme breaks into a sprint when she sees Albeart and his riders pass her by. Then, planting her left foot firmly into the ground, she bounds high into the air in a great, gravity-defying leap. When she touches ground with her right foot, she leaps again -- just as high, three or four meters off the ground. "Hi-yahh!!" she cries out from mid-air, exhilarated and spinning the flaming poi around her.

Ezme is unaware that she is fading, unaware of her loss of muscle. In this moment, in this land where the laws of nature suddenly don't apply to her, she feels invincible. Seeing the crowd, she floats softly down next to Albeart while Roald and the fortune teller work to catch up. She juts out her chin and swings her poi in a vaguely threatening fashion as she confronts the ranks in their path.

"Do not bar our way," she warns.

Albeart roars "I'm not planning on stopping. You lot better move aside!" To the crowd it just sounds like a bear roaring, but the anger and intensity of the roar likely makes it clear what is about to happen.

Slightly taken aback by Albeart's fierce roar, herself, Ezme is starting to wonder how much of "Albert" is actually still inside the beast...?

At least he still seems to be on our side.... She turns back to the crowd, nodding with her head toward the bear. "What he said."

Still swinging her poi, Ezme advances forward in step with the "manimal" and his riders. She responds to the man who attempted to jest with her. "Explain why you block us. We mean you no harm, but if you do not back off, things will get 'grizzly'...."

When everyone is picking up the pace, Roald has a hard time to keep up. His legs still feel heavy, he really has to concentrate to put one foot in front of the other when he tries to go faster than regular walking speed. Luckily the crowd isn't too far away and he manages to get to the others by the time Ezme is done talking.
Roald feels weak, and is not looking forward to a fight.
why aren't Albeart and Ezme experiencing the same problem?

"Do not charge too fast," Lille murmurs, leaning down towards Albeart’s ear without taking her eyes off the gathered crowd. "Or I may not be able to keep Daryl on." Her hand tightens on Daryl anyway, and she holds out her staff in preparation for sudden movement. She risks a glance back, wondering if the witch was following them. Lille also scans around for Albert’s body, her own body tense with the situation but also alive with ready energy. On a whim, she looks sideways at some of the people barring their way; trying the trick to see the shadow cords, and if they have them, which way they’re going.

As her gaze sweeps the crowd, Lille takes in Roald’s drawn face and tired bearing. "Wait," she says to Albeart, and slips carefully off his back when he’s still. "You should ride with Daryl," she says to Roald, "so I can use my staff." She motions him up, offering a hand and her steadied staff to assist him on board. After thinking for a moment, she adds, "With only one hand to hold the fur on back of his neck, I found it helped to press in my knees. Easier to steady Daryl too." With an encouraging nod to Roald, she gives Albeart a pat and holds her staff ready to fend off anyone who might attempt violence on the adventurers.

''oh, no,... I can't... I mean, of course I can but... Aren't you feeling exhausted too? As long as I'm standing still it's ok. But walking and especially running takes so. Much. Effort.''
Despite his objections Lille nudges him towards Albeart and Roald has no choice but to steady Daryl to keep him from falling off.
He does as she says and presses in his knees.
Daryl is still sleeping, or not moving in any case.
'' Daryl, if you can hear me: now would be a good time to wake up. We're about to be attacked and could really use your strength. C'mon buddy, open your eyes''

Albeart skids to a halt when Lille tells him to wait for Roald. He looks at him as Roald catches up. An exhaust expression decorates his friends face. "Looks like you could use a ride, buddy. Hop on."

After switch rider, Albeart once again turns his attention to the gathered crowd and sets off towards them, nodding in agreement to Ezme up above.
"Last chance!" He roars to the crowd.

When Albeart roars again, something awakens within Ezme, and it suddenly seems plain as day what must be done. As she steps forward, bursting into song, an invisible band of instruments supports her musical number.

"Get out of my head!
Get out of my mind!
Get out of my way so I can live this life ooof mine!"

After the incident with Aarov, this popular ear worm from back home had wiggled its way into her head and played on repeat for months (which had seemed both ironic and fitting at the time, given the chorus' lyrics).

Ezme is not usually that great of a singer, nor that expressive of a person, but right now -- for Ezme at least! -- this dream performance is all it was meant to be ... Poignant. Powerful. Maybe even a little cathartic.

All the same, the crowd stands, squinting stupidly at her. It's now that a series of realizations strike our foreign trapper. First, she'd been singing in her native tongue, so no one had understood her. Second, the big sequined heart on her leotard had ripped in twain again (sigh). And lastly (and most disturbingly)... as she looks down to observe her own wardrobe malfunction, she realizes that she can also see through her own fracking body.

Upon this final realization, the instruments falter, along with the conviction of her step. Whispering a curse into the heavy silence that follows, Ezme lifts her wispy palm and turns it this way and that before her eyes, then looks to her companions, her expression alarmed. "What is happening??"

"Shut up, girl!" ... And just like that, what remained of Ezme's sense of control and empowerment vaporizes. The words of her father Brahm and the furious expression on his face transport the trapper back to that last night -- the night she and Richie had attempted to steal away with her two younger sisters.

"I am not--!" she starts to retort... Not what? Not a girl??

"You are not of House Felder. Not any longer," her father finishes. With these words, the fire in the poi hanging limply by her sides instantly extinguishes. Brahm sneers, shaking his head and turning his back on her, abandoning her to her fate as the crowd pushes forward.

Gazing numbly after her father, Ezme tries to stumble in the wake of the bear, but the crowd presses in between them and she finds herself cut off. She looks around herself, for the first time really registering the lecherous expressions of the men around her.

Hugging her arms to her chest, she shakes her head and tries to back away, baring her teeth and growling a desperate warning like a cornered animal.

At first Roald doesn't notice that Daryl is waking up. He didn't really expect his shaking and begging to work so he continues while Daryl is trying to speak. When his voice gets stronger and reaches Roald's ear, Roald is completely extatic.
''Daryl! You're awake! Oh I'm so glad ''
He forgets the problems around him for a few minutes and gives his friend a warm hug.
Then he starts rambling on about everything that has happened since his arrival at the circus. He tells Daryl about Albeart, about Ezme levitating, the fortune teller and...
For Daryl this is clearly too much information all at once. roald's story doesn't make sense either, the timeline is so chaotic it's impossible to follow.
He tries to stop Roald a few times but Roald just keeps on babbling.
''... and then there was this boy wielding some sort of fire pot, and Ezme kneeled beside him, and I could see the fire through her body. I mean look at her...''
Roald turns his head and searches for Ezme who was right beside him just a minute or so ago. He spots her surrounded by a creepy mob of carny people, she doesn't look too well.
oh no
If he directs Albeart in Ezme's direction to save her, Lille will be left alone, and Roald himself is not quite feeling up to the task. But he scrapes together what little strength he has left.
'' We've got to help her Daryl, follow me ''

They both slide off of Albeart's back and walk towards the crowd trying to push people aside while making their way to their friend.

"Albert, wait!" Lille tries to spin and find where Ezme has got to but every movement feels so slow, like being under water. As Roald and Daryl head back for the wayward trapper, Lille swings her staff, hoping to keep the path between them clear. "Ezme, you must fight this!" she calls over the jeers of the men. "They are not real!" She seems to be speaking to both the flash of sequins in the crowd, as well as to herself.

Lille's words fail to register in Albeart's mind. He's dead set on getting to the source of these cords. To his amazement, the crowd just lets him pass without much effort. "Look at that, Roald! Piece of cake. Roald?" He had been so focused on getting through the crowd that he forgot to pay attention to what's going on around him. And there was a lot going on right now. Looking back, he's unsure where everyone is. The crowd he just passed has closed ranks again, blocking him from his friends.

"Lille!" He roars, hoping that she'll be able to hear him. "I'm going for the cord's source!" If he can reach the source and deal with it, then the others will be safe. With nobody standing in his way, he looks up ahead with a blurry glance, just as Lille had instructed them with the bees. "There." He says to himself as he starts to follow it again.

As Ezme continues to back away from the encroaching crowd, she becomes half aware that she is passing through the entrance of another red-and-white striped tent. Before the crowd can pursue her inside, a large form steps in their way, bellowing, "You can't have her!"

Had help arrived??

But then the form continues in a growl: "Not until I'm done with her.. This is personal." Seeing that the crowd has discontinued their advance, the figure turns to face her.

Ezme's eyes widen with loathing and disgust. It's Humphrey. Except he's huge. And his eye -- the one Roald had punched -- it is swollen almost completely shut and oozing yellow pus down his face. "Hello, Gorgeous," he grins menacingly.

Albeart notices the extra cord. Someone else is trapped in here. He thinks. Would it be someone I know? Or an unfortunate bystander? He feels like he should find out, but his friends need him right now. He shakes the thought and pushes his head into the tent, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness before his body follows.

Rows of seats surround a central ring that appears to be filled with sawdust. This must be one of the performing or training tents. On one side, the bleachers open up to allow for a backstage entrance. A few barrels, crates and cages block his vision from that section of the tent. Albeart tries to locate the cords again to follow them.

Ezmaray holds her ground, trying not to flinch at Humphrey's oozing eye.

"Humphrey," she acknowledges with a slight nod. "Funny, this twist of fate. Now you are saving me from angry mob... I guess now we call it even... ?" She tosses her head, trying to look casual, but the stiff manner in which she hugs her chest betrays her discomfort. The flameless poi hang from her hands.

Humphrey barks a small laugh, dismissing her comment, and advances forward a step. "The problem with you, Ezmaray, is that you are always breaking the rules, everywhere you go. You're very good at making people hate you. You break the rules back home -- now you can't go back. You break them in this new land -- now you flee me and those townsfolk you scooped me from. And now, now you come here, to our beloved carnival...." Humphrey gestures around them and shakes his head as he takes another step forward. "Yes, we have rules here, Ezmaray. And our rules are important. We cannot have you flying around, willfully defying them..."

This being -- whoever it is -- is obviously not Humphrey. Ezme stands her ground resolutely, looking up at him as he advances again, her body charged and ready for action.

The figure smiles rakishly, talking slower and growing more sultry as he eases nearer. "So I guess this leaves you with a choice, my dear Ezmaray... You can die here (such a shame, really).... Or... you can join us. We can make your dreams come true..." The trapper flinches as 'Humphrey' reaches out and brushes the back of his index finger against her cheek. For a moment his visage flits between that of Humphrey, Aarov, and Roald. His hand slowly descends down her neck to her shoulder as he continues his monolog. "Or... you can finally learn ... how to conform ... and how ... to submit!"

Ezme tries to pull away as the figure goes to grab her by the upper arm.

"We’ll come find you!" Lille calls back to Albeart. Though there’s no crowd to stop her, the walk back to Ezme seems to take an age. When she finally gets near Ezme, a low growl escapes Lille as she takes in the menacing figure towering over the trapper.

"Get away from her!" she shouts at the huge man. "Ezme, we need to leave! They are not real, don’t listen to him!" To emphasize her point, she swings her staff, trying her move from earlier to knock his feet out from under him.

Ezme's eyes dart back to the figure, hoping not to draw his attention to Lille. He seems unruffled, chuckling as if his failed grab for her arm were all part of his plan and some sort of silly joke. Keeping five feet between them now, Ezme narrows her eyes at him.

"Who are you?!" she asks louder than necessary, hoping to attract Lille's attention without alerting the figure as to her companion's proximity. She starts to edge toward the tent flap.

The giant tsks and shakes his head. "Wrong question, Ezmaray." Ezme whirls around as the figure suddenly vanishes and reappears directly behind her, blocking her from the tent flap. He now looks like a tall, winsome young man -- someone from her country, but not anyone she has met before. Smiling mischievously, he looks down into her eyes, speaking in her native tongue. "The real question is: what can I do for you?" As he finishes, he taps Ezmaray on the chest.

On the instant, the tent -- which was originally some sort of storage space -- begins to expand and fill with trees. The ceiling of the tent stretches high and thins until it is as transparent as Ezme's fading body, the light of glimmering stars shining through it. The song of familiar nightbugs dances through the air along with the delightful, sweet aroma of the needle-covered paths that led to home. Yes.... Through the darkness between the trees Ezme can see it now -- her childhood home, warm lights glowing from within, beckoning her. Gasping, Ezme walks toward it, the figure trailing silently behind her.

It feels so... real.... Approaching the house, Ezme steps tentatively up the creaky front steps onto the covered front porch. She glances to her left. A deer skin hangs, drying from the hooks. Hearing a chorus of laughter from within, Ezme steps forward and presses a hand to the chill window, peering inside. Her mother and three of her sisters sit within, working on their stitching. Her niece and young nephew sit by the fire on the grey-green braided rug on the floor. They are playing cards. It looks like Savris is celebrating and Tashera is playfully pouting and laughing (she had clearly let him win).

Ezme swallows back tears, her heart full of ache and longing.

"You find peace in the forest, pretending you need no one. But that is not really true, is it?" coos the figure from behind her. He steps closer as she continues to stare through the window, transfixed. "Always on the outside, looking in. But unlike the rest of the world, I feel no loathing for you," he continues gently. "You are strong and smart. You deserve to be accepted and embraced, just as you are..." The figure reaches out to her shoulder and gently turns her to face him -- his hand does not pass through her this time. "You understand, now? We can give you that -- give you a world that is worthy of you. You can finally be happy. All you need to do is... step inside...." He points with his eyes toward the door of the cabin, then looks back at her, raising his brows.

Ezme looks up at him, noting the bedazzling sparkle of starlight in his dark eyes.... It feels like his gaze is delving deep into her soul.

"Who are you?" she repeats, her voice now a hushed whisper....

Albeart is quick to notice what is quite obviously a trap. Only a clown would make it this easy to spot, really. Which seems appropriate to him, given the environment. He take a small detour to where the barrels and crates block the way. After using his large claw to knock two crates over, then pushes it with his head to line up with the entrance of the cage. Now all he has to do is push them in and wait for the trap to be sprung. The crates should prevent the cage from closing completely, giving him just enough room to squeeze through between the crates and the metal bars.

''They went inside that tent Daryl, hurry ''
Same as with the others, the crowd is hesitant to touch Roald and Daryl. They part way, but in a very reluctant manner.
When they reach the tent, Roald pulls away the entrance flap, there is a figure, Roald can't see his face but by the looks of it he is trying to strangle Ezme. She already has a glazed look in her eyes. She mouths some words but no sound is coming out. Her eyes stare into Roald's.
Without giving it another thought Roald jerks the man by the shoulder in an attempt to pull him outside the tent flat on his back.

Ezme feels color rise unbidden to her cheeks. Distantly, she notices the crickets have stopped chirping and that snowflakes have started gently falling. She shudders with a sudden chill. The hand on her shoulder feels solid, warm. He pulls her closer. "I want…" she starts, then falters, her breath floating between their faces. Thinking of Lille, Ezme’s eyes dart to the tent flap distractedly. The figure follows her glance.

"Let us go inside … to your room," he urges. "It is warm in the cabin, and we will have more privacy…" The figure presses his body toward hers, nudging her toward the door.

In the far off distance, Ezme thinks she hears a screech. Shuddering and hugging herself against the cold, she cocks her head with confusion, looking off into the trees. Had that been Wankle??

Roald's hand passes right through the shoulder of the man holding Ezme. He sees now that he's not strangling her but merely touching her shoulder, the spot where the hand and shoulder meet is a bit vague, blurry.
Roald claws at the guy a few more times ... To no avail.

The figure shushes Ezme. With his other hand, he reaches up, cupping her cheek and bringing her gaze back to lock with his.

He presses her against the door now, leaning his face in to place a kiss on her temple.

She takes a shuddery breath. "I would like you…" she begins again.

"Yes…?" he whispers into her ear…

Lille turns to leave with Ezme when suddenly she hears the woman’s voice.. from the *other* side of the tent flap. She looks back and forth between the ‘Ezme’ next to her and the flap before making up her mind. "I’ll be right there," Lille tells the faded figure in front of her. Spotting Roald and Daryl heading for the flap she adds, "I need to see what those two are doing."

Ignoring anything else from what she thinks is only a phantom, Lille slips through the flap.. except that alone feels like moving through thick syrup. After many extended moments and struggles, she is suddenly there, lifting the curtain. On the other side, a man is sidled up by Ezme, who looks.. hesitant? Confused? Her face seems to go through all sorts of emotions that Lille isn’t able to read well. Roald takes some ineffectual swipes at the looming figure, and Lille growls in sympathetic frustration as the attacks go right through the man.

Seeing that physical force won’t help, Lille speaks to the other woman as she starts to walk forward at an achingly slow pace. "Ezme, it’s us. It’s Lille. You can’t listen to him, he is only a dream. We are real - YOU are real. You belong with us. We must leave these shadows and go back to the real world. Please.." With the last word begging her friend, Lille’s voice dips low and a little husky with desperation. She reaches a hand out for Ezme’s shoulder but it feels like it’s a mile away.

In the back of Ezme's mind, something insists this man isn't real. He certainly looks like he'd hopped straight out of one of her daytime fantasies. Ezme reaches out, sliding her right hand under his burgundy tailed coat to feel the perfectly chiseled body beneath. He feels real... but that doesn't say much. All she knows for absolute certain is that -- as scared as she is by this ... unusual ... encounter -- she really, really wants this. The real world is cold... He feels warm, inviting, exciting....

Ezme's curious hand pauses at the figure's hip, noting a whip attached to his belt there. The ringmaster's whip... or that of an animal trainer...?

"... I would like you to be..." she continues. She swallows. Panting slightly, she reaches behind herself with her left hand for the door handle. The handsome figure slides his nose along Ezme's high cheekbone, pausing with his lips hovering close to hers.

"Go on..." he murmurs. For a moment, time freezes. With a regretful exhale, Ezme twists the door handle....

"... to be gone from this dream world!" In one swift motion, the trapper swings the door wide with her left hand, dodges down, and pushes against the figure's body with her right hand to knock him through the entryway. Despite his forward leaning motion, he manages to stay on his feet and does not fall sprawled on the ground as Ezme had imagined he might. Nor does the floor dissolve him, trap him, or fry him in a pool of lava as she'd suspected it might do to her. The figure only stares back at her from the entryway, brows raised in utter surprise.

Ezme straightens as she looks at him. For a moment she is filled with panicky regret. Maybe it hadn't been a trap! Maybe she'd just thrown away the dream of a lifetime!

But then the figure's face cracks into a broad grin and his body shudders with a hearty chuckle. "Oh, Ezmaray! Ezmaray!" he manages through his delighted laughter. "I knew I liked you!" He shakes his head disbelievingly. With that, he strides toward the trapper's astonished form, places his hands on either side of her face, and gives her an exuberant kiss. He brings his lips to her ear, murmuring sensuously. "Guess I will just have to catch you -- on the flip side...."

And with that, he was gone.

With a click, swoosh, and a couple of cracking noises, the front and back gate of the cage fall onto the moved boxes. A few pieces of wood splinter off from the crates, but they manage to hold. All this leaves just enough room for Albeart to squeeze his way to the other side, and so he does.

Carefully he makes his way through. The backstage area proves to be a tunnel connected to the next tent. Not a very long tunnel, about 5 meters (16ft) or so. Another tent-flap separates the tunnel from the new tent. Noises can be heard from inside the tent. There's definitely people in there. Albeart pokes his head in, and it's exactly what he feared... Clowns! He sighs internally. Before him is a tent of a smaller size than the previous one, but at least 5 clowns are training inside. 2 small fat clowns are balancing on barrels while throwing wooden sticks to one another. A third clown is practicing his slipping on banana peel routine. The 4th and 5th appear to be having a smoke break.

Albeart blurs his vision again to spot the cords. On the far end of the tent, 2 large panels have been rolled up to give free access to the outside. And parked in front of this opening is a coach that looks like it could fit about 2 or 3 people comfortably. The shadowy strings run straight into the wood of the coach. It's impossible to tell if they come out the other side from where Albeart is standing.

Before anyone looks his way, Albert tries to hide behind a large stack of multi-colored hats.

One minute the figure is there. The next he is not.

Ezme blinks with surprise, and when she opens her eyes again, she sees Roald, Daryl, and Lille before her, looking similarly astonished, but also concerned. The trapper looks around herself. The house is gone, the forest, the sea of stars above... She's back in the storage tent, the poi still dangling limply from her hands.

He's gone. It's all gone. She'd probably never see the house or her family in such realistic detail again... Something inside her cracks open a little more as the dream figure's parting words still echo in her mind. Her shoulders slump.

"Ohhh...." she starts to groan with deep regret, but each word she speaks comes out incredibly soft at first, then crescendos to an audible, but very wet sound... almost like reverse reverb. She straightens with alarm, then lifts her arms to look at them, taking in her own transparency. Lowering her arms, she takes a deep breath to recenter, then turns to her friends.

"... I might be dying...." She speaks slowly, trying to be clear despite the weird audio effect. She is mostly successful at keeping panic out of her voice. "... Where is Albert??"

For the love of the Gods, Theo, you had better not be letting me freeze to death...

Albeart seriously considers putting on one of the hats and trying a bipedal dance to pretend he's just one of them, but that would never go well in a million dreams! Instead he uses what the witch has given him. An impressive body.

Albeart uses his massive paws to swing at the pile of hats, sending them flying. Then he roars as loud as his lungs are able to manage. Then when hopefully all of these clowns have pooped their pants in fear, he makes a run for the other side of the tent.

Lille frowns at the re-forming crowd and leans close to her companions. "Stay close," she says to Roald and Daryl, though a glance takes in Ezme to include her on the plan. "If they get near, just keep that swinging." She taps Albert’s staff with her own, then turns to address the gathering people.

"We are going to get through," she warns loudly, "no matter what you try. So you might as well step aside now and save yourselves a lot of trouble." As she scans their faces for Albert and the witch, a sudden thought strikes her. "Or you can join us. Come and be free from your.. deeds and mis-lived lives and regrets. We will not let any of that hold us," she concludes firmly. She eyes the figures around her as she strides forward with confidence, watching for anyone trying to start violence.

"Go... They cannot touch you," Ezme informs the crew as she follows behind Lille. She refrains from mentioning that the dream crowd can touch her now. Communication was hard enough right now, and what good would that really do? Gripping her poi firmly, she walks next to Daryl and catches his eye, giving him a little nod of encouragement. Instead of looking bolstered, he seems abashed about having been caught looking her way at all. Averting his eyes, he nods quickly in response and scans the crowd the opposite direction of Ezme.

...Blasted leotard...

"Well, I don’t know how we’re going to get out," Lille admits. "Or what to do to make it happen. But we’re going to do it!" She ends with a fierce and determined glare, partly to cover how unconvincing her words sound even to herself.

If Ezmaray were in a better headspace, she would have facetiously suggested to Lille that they show more cleavage to sway the crowd, but she still feels a little vulnerable from being chased down, and out-of-sorts after her dream within a dream. Instead she eyes the crowd wearily, her eyes lingering on the boy from whom she purchased the poi.

This seemed like a long shot, but she wasn't sure what else she could do....

The trapper straightens proudly. "Boy," she calls out. When addressing the crowd, her voice suddenly sounds normal and less echoey. "A bit ago, we made trade." She holds up the poi in demonstration. "Would you like to share what it was I gave to you?"

The young teenager's eyes widen upon being put on the spot in front of the crowd. He looks around himself briefly before responding. "Oh. Uh.... It was a memory....?"

"That is right. I gave you one of my memories. Honestly, I cannot remember what it was now, but I know I promised it would be good..." The boy nods, not entirely sure where this is going. "So tell me," Ezme continues, "Given what you have seen, what know of me from that memory.... Do you believe in us?"

"STOP!" Lille yells above the clamoring crowd. Her hand had snapped out reflexively to hold her staff horizontally, an attempt to stem the oncoming tide. Lille’s eyes had gone wide when she realized the permanence of Ezme’s gifted memory, but she has since done some fast thinking.

"Don’t you see?" She gestures with her free hand at the multitudes. "Would *all* of you need to come stop us if we couldn’t do anything? If we weren’t a threat? That is what we offer. We will fight for your freedom, but in exchange for your help." She looks around, catching the eye of the worker she had accosted earlier. "Besides, what is your other choice? To stay here, trapped? You might as well *try*."

Albeart's hairs stand up straight as the cold feeling hits him. He shivers, but keeps on running and manages to get to the coach. He walks around the back of it, to get out of sight of the clowns, although it looks there is no pirsuit in progress.

After catching his breath and shaking off the shivers, he stands on hind legs and peers into a small windows or the coach, resting his front paws on the wood.

Roald, still feeling weak tries his best to maintain a brave, determined posture. He walks behind Lille, taking advantage of her 'breaking' the crowd.
He gives Ezme a worried look. He can still see the flickering of torches through her body, though it doesn't look as if it got worse. But everytime he looks at her it seems like there is a stone in his stomach. He doesn't like feeling helpless as he does now, and time is of the essence.
'' you're doing great Lille, just keep on pushing.''

Albeart's roars are getting louder.

Ezme moves along with her companions, attempting to stay within the safe folds of her clustered group. She doesn't want the crowd to know they can touch her, but if it comes to it, she's willing to smack them down with the poi.... Rounding a tent, she thinks she might see a coach up ahead....?

Albeart is baffled by what he sees inside the coach. In the middle of it is a small table with a piece of pottery on top. A clay urn that seems to be the source of the shadow cords.

He blinks, unsure of what to do next. He's not sure he would even fit inside the carriage. Mesmerized by the sinus wave of the cords, he just stares.

"Albert!" Lille shouts, craning her head to see over the milling people working to remain between her group and the bear-like bulk behind the coach. "I think that’s him!" she says excitedly to her companions. To the crowd, she says, "We need to go deal with this. If you want any chance of getting out, let us through."