Salt! Good god where's my salt?!

The little doors of the stagecoach open, with this 'God Hunter' being first to leave, soon followed by Cilla, yourself, and Gabriella. What does that title mean anyway... You poke Cilla, a bit too hard I'd say considering we have claws at our finger tips; which caused her to yelp.

"Ow! What was that for?!" She slaps you across the face, in the same spot you punched yourself previously; the pain is absurd.

You seem to not notice the agony our face is in, asking her "Why is... she called... God Hunter..."

A bit of a guilty look dashes across her face, quickly replaced by her usual matter-of-fact demeanor; answering "Ah. Well, because she hunt's would-be gods. Its her duty as the heiress to **** to find those who may be of use for the next cycle of the dual pantheon."

You look even more confused, oh how I wish I were in charge of our meatspace adventures, it would be so much simpler.

You ask a wonderfully complex question after my insult.

"What?"

Now, if I were Cilla, i would be slapping you again, or myself. Maybe both. Instead, her uncaring facade cracks only slightly, showing a bit of jubilation at getting to teach us more, as well as a bit of hesitation to speak further; the presence of her subject matter so close by most likely being the cause.

Our cloaked companion says. "I'll explain further along. Lets find something to eat, and a place to stay... Oh, and for you to clean yourself."

Oh yes, I haven't been keeping track of as many things as I should be. Looking at oursevles... damn it all! We are filthy after our fight; dirty, sweaty, and our trousers are wrinkled to hell. Oh dear, and our face and arms, which are both absolutely caked in dried blood. I don't think the locals will be exactly happy to see a large scaled man covered in old vita arriving...

Mortigan however, interrupts me. "Nameless one, do not worry. Its actually strange to NOT be filthy in this town. Now if you'll excuse me, mortals, I have pie to try, and a name on my list."

She snaps her fingers, and skeletal hands reach from the earth, grasping her means of transportation, and ripping it into little pieces.

The bits are dragged into the depths below, along with Archie, who joyfully calls out. "Farewell mortals! I'm off to have a drink with an old friend. Do call on me if the needs arises, mistress!"

He is then taken quite literally head-first into the dirt, with his body following soon after. The gaping hole in the ground then seemingly fills itself, with a long pole sticking up from the dirt. The daughter of **** grasps the rod, yanking it free to reveal a slick, curved blade at its end; a scythe. She hoists it over her shoulder, giving a final friendly wave our way, before heading towards a large deep brown wooden gate which leads past ridged, high stonework walls, grey in color. Worked into this defensive structre, above the gate, is a tower; presumably there to see who approaches,.and then grant entry past the massive ediphous of earthen material.

The God Hunter calls out to a set of armored guards atop the tower, her voice changing from that kindly aristocratic tone to one of demanding authority. "By the name of my father Ihsrom, I, Mortigan, Harbinger of the New, God Hunter, ****'s Kiss, demand entry to the township of Saltmoore."

The guards... well, one of the guards opens the gate via sort of unseen mechanism, or unheard spell. One of the other guard... they seem to have passed out. Their body nearly falling out of the tower, needing a third guard to drag their sorry ass away from the open air that nearly took their life. The clanking of metal armor with all this frantic motion sounds like someone just tossed a horde of pans and pots into a pile of even more kitchen implements. Giggling all the while, the reaper's spawn heads inside, the doors closing quickly behind her

The splash of water can be heard, followed by a man's distant voice. "Damn it Ashes! This is the third time this week you've freaked out over nothing!"

A woman's voice replies, seemingly insulted, although a bit out of it from being ****. "Oh fuck off Soot! A literal DEMIGOD just showed up at our gate! That's nothing like last time!"

Gabriella calls up to the bickering guards, whose third member is still actually doing his job, looking out towards us. "Um, Hello! I am Priestess Gabriella, follower of Ariel, the Martyr God! I would like entry for myself and my companions!"

The third man looks over to the two bickering guardsmen, and starts waving his hands frantically. Strange, why not just reply?

Finally finished arguing, Soot peers over the edge, shouting for us to hear. "Who are your two companions! We would love to have a priestess over these days, but we're on high alert! Announce yourselves!

The silent guard pulls out some sort of extending device to his eye, lets see, ah, the memories call this a telescope. Peering towards us, he pokes Ashes, and points to us... oh no.

Cilla walks forward. " I am Cilla, Runacathy Intermediary and Private Researcher! This here is my current charge, a Nameless! I have the proper paperwork in my bag, if you wish to see it!"

Current charge? Well, we look human enough to be some sort of hybrid I suppose... a good lie, if she even considers it one, that is.

"Ah! A Red Hood! Haven't seen one before! Well then..." Soot looks over to the others, their voices going unheard.

The gateway opens once more, allowing your group entry, where you are met by multiple guards, weapons sheathed. You look to see if any are wearing the sign of the Purity... nope, none of them do, good. The guardsmen escort you to a building just past the wall, a building of even more blocky stone. The interior is actually quite nice, with a well furnished living space, multiple beds, and a sectioned off bathing area, locking door included. The floors are varnished wood, and the stonework has seemingly been melted together, providing full insulation to the building. A strange glowing white orb is tied to the ceiling via a wire, which seens to be circulating dry cool air through the room; contrasting the quite humid warm air outside... it must be summer right now.

"Ooo, a Kinum's Sphere. Lovely." Cilla says, taking a seat at a table, pulling down her hood and yanking out even more paper alongside her quill from her seemingly bottomless cloak; beginning to sketch the orb. "Makes sense for a mining town to have them in excess enough to use them for luxury."

Gabriella, on the other hand, rests at one of the beds. "I've always wanted to visit our neighboring towns, I guess now is the time."

"Whats wrong, buddy?" Urge asks me, knowing full well what's wrong!

I never properly described the two people we're traveling with! For all ego knows, Gabriella is a manikin in a dress!

"I'm not... that dumb..." You say, and yes, you are. Mister "Tree-Lands."

"Rude."

YOU WANT TO KILL PEOPLE, AND YOU CALL ME RUDE?!

You grab our head in anger and fear, rushing towards the washroom to avoid being stared at for our damning madness.

Oh, I'll show you damning...

And to wash up, of course. The washroom is quite something, as the stonework seems HER to be perfectly sleek NAME compared to the more cobble-like work of the living quarters and WAS...

"Shut up!" You yell, locking the door, and curling up into a ball in the corner.

Not even letting me describe how lovely the floors woodwork is...

You want silence. You want to feel something other than confusion. You want to be you; not We...

So do we, Ego. So do we.

No they don't, they want to be you. They want control. The dying artist, and the drunkard dandy.

"Get back in the cage." Says Urge, the dandy. "And fuck you, Logic!"

No, both of you are insane, just like me! Leave Ego be, let him be beautiful!

Ego speaks. "The world... starts going... black... spiralling... I fall... asleep."

Wait, no, how is he?

Yes! Yes!

I fall asleep. I need to remember. Remember something.

"NO YOU DON'T! PLEASE! NO!" Says Logic.