Hold those wings tight, they might go for the feathers.

Oh, he was being sarcastic...

We were taken to a brick building near the docks, baring a banner with the symbol of Bountry; a cornucopia, overflowing with gold coins. Robert opened the door, holding it for us as we entered. Once inside, the interior was quite... barren. A few chairs; which while comfortable looking, seemed quite lonesome in such an empty waiting room. Further long, down a staircase, seemed to be a chamber used for the interviewing, or interrogation, of new arrivals. Standing guard at this staircase were two men in brutish bronze armor; each weilding wooden cudgels.

We took our seats, and Scott was first to be led to be interviewed.

It had took three bloody hours to make Scott's new registration papers. During those hours, my acute hearing picked up the questions being asked through the walls; most of which were about the cause of the 'Dark Magics' detected on his body.

Once the sand-man had left; presumably scampering off away from us to go do whatever it is a temporally cursed tailor does, it was our groups turn in the questioning room. First up was Gabbie, who nearly instantly was confirmed as 'Viable' due to her status as a soon-to-be Emissary. Then, Zana was led to the room; with questions ask that concerned me quite a bit.

I was unsure who the 'interviewer' was, only hearing that their voice was effeminate; as she asks. "Are you here for 'donations'? We get many of your kind trying to sell their blood to alchemists... Which is, of course, illegal..."

"N-no mam." Answers the mousey mage. "I'm here b-because I'm studying miss Cilla's charge, Monster... that, and my best friend Ashes is traveling with them..."

Not much studying was going on, to be honest. Often, Zana would just listen to my heart while I lounged in our room on the ship; asking if I could attempt to change my rhythm. The answer was no; for fear that I may rupture my heart in the attempt...

"Ah, is he... special, in some way? I noticed that he doesn't quite match our records of known Dark Kin." The interviewer asks.

When would this woman have noticed me? I've not seen her once...

"He's... s-something. You would h-have to ask Gabriella's brother." Stutters Zana.

"Yes, she said her brother was the new Martyr God... hard to believe, but when a pretty boy pops into existence in a flash of golden light, you tend to get rather trusting to such claims."

Not much of interest was stated, and after half and hour, Ashes was next to be interviewed.

I hear the opening words of the interview. "You are Mohun, I see. A long way from Sozis; an oddity for one of Ihsrom's favored people."

Ashes, eager to either get this over with, or talk to someone new; most likely the later, joyful spouts out. "I grew up in Saltmoore; my parents moved there after the Battle for Ramzu Desert. I've never been to my homeland."

"Really? How are they?" The voice asks, scratching down notes; her and Cilla we get along wonderfully.

"My Pop is still in Saltmoore, making nails, stuff for the guard. Mom... we returned her remains to Sozis; for service too the legion." Ashes second sentence seemed to take the wind from her sails.

"...I'm sorry for your loss."

More time passes, and I begin to once more feel the weight of my eyelids as Cilla is called down; with me being brought as her charge.

"Here are our papers." Says my handler; handling quite handedly the handful of papers to the interveiwer.

Speaking of which, I cannot make out any of her face nor hands; she hides under a black cloak, with a silver mask. Her hands and arms are covered by long black gloves, with large silver loops overlying it's connection to her shirt beneath the cloak reminding me of my dream last night; it reminds me of my dream's vision of Des...

"Wonderful quill-work, operative." Comments the masked woman. "Why have you come to Bounty, when Tomo held a Runacathy to remain at for your charges integration?"

"He is hunted by a powerful man; for defending himself while under my care." Answers Prissy, keeping her usual even tone.

Flicking through the papers, the interviewer sighs. "How I wish you were first. This paperwork is much better kept than what that Balistress had; gunpowder stains everywhere."

We sit about, not doing much for a good ten minutes as the interviewer goes through the paperwork; until the masked one speaks once more. "You lack a 'species' designation. I assume you are some sort of hybrid. Draconic, clearly, and something else."

"Fae." I answer back, trying my best to stay awake through the endless boredom and sleep deprivation.

Tapping her quill, she wonders aloud. "Hmm... do you have any term, or signifier by which we can list you..."

Priscilla, turning to me, asks in a curious tone. "Well, do you? You picked your name out of the blue; might as well do the same for your 'species'."

Well, I already made something up earlier; might as well stick with...

"Driftling."

"Ooo, mysterious. Reminds me of my fantasy novels back home." Says the interviewer. "Just give me another ten minutes..."

Oh gods damn it!

After what feels like an eternity, we're released back to the others; 'ten minutes' she says... that was twenty at least...

We all leave the building, and finally... we're free to go about our buisness.

"So, where would the first stagecoach towards Hoctin be?" I ask Cilla; only to be interrupted.

Before Cilla can answer, our conversation is stopped by the voice of Scott, who seems to have waited outside the registration facility for us.

"Hello! Um... oh, damn." He seems to be gathering the words in his head; deciding which ones would work best, then asking. "I know this is sudden... but, may I travel with you fine people?"

"You want... to come with us?" I ask, confused as to why this cursed man would want anything less than the abject freedom of being on his own; after being locked in a dungeon for gods knows how long.

"Well, you're all quite nice..." Begins the Tailor, then adding. " ...and the number of people who would have someone with my affliction travel around with them is so little than a gnome feels tall around it. Plus, you're headed to the same place I am, right? Hoctin? The holy city is the only place I have a chance of getting cured of this curse, and I'd rather not be reset hundreds of times going it alone on the road; or getting captured again..."

Due to my own uncertainty on Scott, I look over to the others, and ask them. "Well? Do you want him along?"

"Well, he's not the first person cursed by god you've traveled with." Says Cilla, tugging at her hood.

"My brother may have issue with this... but you're quite the gentleman." Gabriella calls out over towards Scott; turning his cheeks a tad red.

Ashes, with her usual gusto, shouts. "The more the merrier!"

Zana, seeing her friend's reaction, simply nods.

I look over to our newest addition to our traveling band of misfits as he twiddles his thumbs, saying.

"Eh, sure. What's the worst that could happen."