The Severed Hand

Alalla passed a hand over her face wearily, then squares her shoulders. Time for the next item on the list.

"Hey." Al walks up to Vincent. "That was quite the development, you dropping out of those rifts like that." She passes her glaive from her right hand to her left, then offers her hand to shake. "I'm Alalla." She points out everyone else and introduces them, too. "Sorry we've been basically ignoring you. It's been a bit... busy, as I'm sure you've gathered."

"Nice to meet you Al. I'm Vincent as you may have gathered. Also, my condolences for your loss. I picked up on the fact that one of your group members passed on right before I showed up. Weird coincidence, huh? Oh, and maybe you could help me. See I've been stuck on that plane for some time. What year is it exactly?"

with an exhaustion that, for once, isn’t due from extending himself in battle, Ug collapses in a bed of turnips to sleep. His dreams are mixed at first, brought on by both loss but then powered by hope. Much of his anger and fear disperse as his mind replays the message the night before, the white flowers shining in his mind. When he awakens he feels his body refreshed and his determination bolstered. Mama would live! She was probably beating those giants within an inch of their lives.And he had just over six days to get to her and help. It was time to get to work.

Ug begins making turnip soufflés for the team as they each wake up. One large one in the shape of a dragon for Ras and Aeri to share, another large one in the shape of a heart for Al and Eva, one in the shape of an angry kitty (it was the best impression of Halla he could do) for Zenni, and a burnt black one for Vincent that Ug was proud of, the man seemed to like black.

Ug offers a plate to Al, "Al says she hasn’t saved anyone? Then let us go save someone!" he says with a challenging grin.

Al blinks, then tells him. "If you got trapped in there when the Hand fell, it has been a very long time."

Alalla looks down at the soufflé in her hands with a smile. "Yes." Al looks up and gives him a tusk-y grin in return, determination in her eye. "Let's.

Nodding slowly, Vincent continues, "I am unfamiliar with this new world. If you'll have me, I'll travel with your group for a time. My fighting style is an odd mixture of sword, bow, fist and magic as you may have seen a bit of already. So, this fellow who died, what was his name? And the gnome too, I would like to pay my respects."

After learning the names of Fergy and Uncle Oswald, Vincent takes out a sheaf of parchment for both, and using his calligraphy set, he draws their names in fancy script. With a quick spell both pieces of parchment go up in bright flames. Breathing in a bit of the smoke Vincent exhales and just mutters two simple words as prayer, "Guide them."

Alalla watches solemnly. "Thank you." She stares at the smoke swirling upwards for a moment, I hope their afterlives are kind, before turning back to Vincent.

"If you're to travel with us, there are some things you should know." Alalla proceeds to give a brief summary of the enemies they had faced so far, and their plots and alliances as far as the party knows them.

"As you can see we have faced intrigues and will likely face many more. So I'll be watching you closely. If you're truthful and don't deserve it, I apologize in advance. Your skill really will be a great help." Al gives a professional nod and turns to go.