Looking over at the old man, she considered the others working to break free of their chains nearby. Those that were in sight seemed almost European in appearance, especially compared to Wajet. Wajet had been a scrawny rodent of a fellow, with his malicious eyes and self-assured smirk. These captives possessed lighter tones of hair, skin that looked bronzed by the sun, rather than any ethnicity. Many adults possessed the solidness of muscles gained from work rather than any gym, though there were exceptions. They apparently co-operated as a genuine community in a time of need, helping each other up rather than scrambling to be first.

{{Free him}}

((Free them))

The old man patted her arm, pulling her from her consideration of the survivors. Gesturing to draw her attention towards a small manacled girl deeper in the ruined camp, though there were others closer at hand. Telepathy scooping up the hurried thoughts that rose to the surface of his mind.

##How did she do that? She seems more a warrior or scout than any caster. Need Huld free. Better if she can run, find safety##.

Flicking her eyes between them, Julia triggered Analysis on each.

Analysis

[Name: Sigurðr Winther

Level: 14 / 2

Class: Trader / Mayor

Race: Human Norse Descent

Age: 45

Health: 154 (174)

Mana: 0 (50)

Defence: 14

Combat Powers: None

Combat Skills: Short Blades [Ad] (22), Short Bow [J] 9

Current Condition: Hungry, Beaten, Suppressed Mana (fading), Morale Bonus: Freed Slave]

Analysis

[Name: Huld Winther

Level: 0

Class: [Not Trained]

Race: Human Norse Descent

Age: 10

Health: 4 (7)

Defence: 17

Current Condition: Hungry, Beaten, Morale Bonus: Freed Slave

Child State Details: Orphaned, guardian Sigurðr Winther]

Norse Descent? Norse and the ancient Gods of Egypt didn’t coexist. Did they?

Chill J, more important things to think about.

They are both freed slaves. Now I hope I killed all the Slavers. If they’re all dead, might get folks safe. Even getting them free will take time.

The reason for his priority of Huld was understandable, yet it wouldn't be wise. If freeing the slaves occurred apparently at random, the entire camp could turn into a riot of pushing. Patting Sigurðr’s arm, she gestured to a closer man who had been following their interaction with interest. As she'd originally approached Sigurðr, the other man had gathered up a bow, intent on her motions. As Julia had moved, so had he, closing the separation focused on Julia and the trees beyond. As Sigurðr frowned, she gestured again to the man, a woman past him and onto the others. Trying to project her intent to free them all, she walked towards the bowman.

I don’t even know how long it takes my Ki to recover, that manacle only took a point. Profile review can wait till I need a break. I’m almost afraid to know what got added in while I was out of my head.

Ki isn’t higher, but I have more mana. Couldn’t have levelled Wizard, since I'm still to learn any spell forms. Look at the profile J. No, shoo. I don’t want to know.

Giving the bowman a concerned smile, she pointed to his manacle and when he let her approach; she again broke the iron easily. The man looked different when he smiled at her in thanks, suspicion lessening. The analysis provided only a name, Ari, and class, making it clear he was a ranger higher than her, but still they’d enslaved him.

A lot of these folks look to know each other, or like family. Did they raid a village? Or buy them from a broke Jarl?

As she had moved, she caught the motion as Ari pointed at her exposed white skin.

“Máni álfr kyn?”

Moon, what kin now?

[Translate (2 -> 3)]

Translate, you need to grow up to be big and strong. I didn’t have my fingers in his brain.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Focusing on him, she had to blink in surprise at the images in his mind. Peter Jackson apparently needs to get better a bigger CGI budget for elvish appearances.

An Elf he wants to know if I have moon elf blood in my lineage?

Now, why didn’t I get to be something cool like an Elf? If the way he remembers them is accurate, holy heck. Wipe up the drool J. But just wow, lust at first sighting. Sorry Orlando, but you rate no more. Memory? Okay, fingers out of his brain, getting me worked up.

Move along J, next in line, before you slip on drool.

Telepathy (4 -> 5)

Waving towards the next in her mental ‘queue’ to get their attention, she headed to them. The crack of their manacle breaking seeming to ring a bell across the camp. She smiled one of the woman nearby began humming something to an upset boy, tones bright in the morning.

Get these folks free and safe somewhere. Then see if I can learn more details.

The conversation among them and others nearby gaining her a series of annoying notifications. Distracting her focus from the snippets she worked to assemble. Every new word she understood seemed to cause it to ping again. The chatter among them tipping fuel on its fire, making for an itch she couldn’t scratch.

She headed towards the first woman in her ‘queue’, yet the group presented the young boy first. He couldn’t have been older than five, his face dirty, streaked with tears. Instead of playing with friends, they had manacled him, treated him like cattle, the only blessing he was with his mother still. A smile lit up as his face as she freed him. Where the dead had evoked nothing, Julia felt a bright delight bloom from her darkness. A smile dancing on her lips mirrored from the others as she freed them. The first group complete, Julia felt a kiss brush her cheek, the now shy boy returning to his mum, not noticing the smile he received in return. Trailing her fingers across his retreating check, she left him with his mother, and she stood to find Ari in her way.

Energetically gesturing toward a group of wagons, Ari seemed unwilling to take no for an answer. A rush of words carried an insistent tone, drawing attention from those around.

“hvítr einn. gefa goði frelsi, hníga door”

White one. Give something freedom, blah door Sigh. Does he need me to break a door? He’s got muscles enough, does he ever. Down, girl.

[Translate (19 -> [B] 2)]

“Huld’s freedom should come before tveir andlit bleyða priest.” Sigurðr said, having not gone far while he waited for Julia to free his ward.

[Translate ([B] 2 -> 5)]

Please stop telling me.

[Translate Notifications suppressed.]

I don’t want to put my fingers back in their brains.

“Don’t let anger blind you, Sigurðr. He could help.” Ari said, turning almost as if he was getting ready to square off against the older man.

“Uncle, please don’t argue. Master Ari is right.”

Calling out from where she waited, Huld’s interruption halted Sigurðr response. Care seemed to weight his words as he spoke.

“Huld, I don’t trust that bleyða one. Better for her to free those she can.”

“Are the stories you told of my parents lies Uncle?” Huld asked, not put off at all by her Uncle's response

The grimace that drew from Sigurðr called the winner faster than a KO.

Niece’s disapproval, your kryptonite old man?

Dry amusement warred with seriousness in Ari’s eyes as he turned his attention to her.

“They have a Priest of Janus secured in a wagon. His blessings would be sure to help.”

Priest oh boy, this could go south. Yet if he’s free, then they’ll be safer. Janus, isn’t that something from Buffy? This is weird.

{{Free him}}

((He waits.)

“He let them imprison him. He’s a coward.”

“Sigurðr, enough. He chooses the life of others over the battle." Ari said, his tone implying that things might be about to get out of hand if Sigurðr persisted.

Going to take them out and measure them. Men!

Stepping past the men, Julia headed picked a path that took her past Huld. A simple tap from a Ki charged foot split her manacle; another split the chain linking her group.

So much for sticking to the queue, Julia.

Leaving both Sigurðr and Huld in her wake, she slipped between groups as she continued. Yet Ari easily caught up then lead the way moving with fluid grace. Julia found her eyes tracing the shifting muscles in his back and forced her attention away.

At this rate, I'm going to need a drip tray.

Enabling Mana Sense, she looked ahead, and it seemed clear which wagon Ari had meant. From its form alone even without the other Mana signpost. Where the others were a mix of open bed or almost gypsy’s like in fanciness. Their goal was a bleak box, signalling its nature even without the familiar Mana that seethed around it. Every piece of metal seemed to be forged from Abyssal steel, so much that to her senses, reality fought to eject it. Yet something held it in place even as the power bound in its construction worked to contain something within.

“We can’t get it open or even get near. Hopefully, you can.” Ari said, gesturing in the direction of the Wagon and its door.

The dark wooden door he gestured towards metal bound and latched, but there didn’t appear to be a lock. A slot set within it looked intended for passing things inside. The only security on the door, two simple bolt and clasp arrangements on slot and door alike. She heard him continue speaking as she continued her examination of the wagon.

“A Priestess of Set saw to the Priest. No one’s seen her since before the slaughter.”

She had sensed the Mana of the wagon stirring as they had approached, yet she approached without Ari they didn’t stir. Holding still, she waved Ari to back up, as she kept her focus on the wagon. The wagon's energies receded towards a waiting state, and yet her next step forward did nothing. The swirling of the energy seemed to lessen in focus the further he drew back, despite her closing in.

[Mana Sense (4 - > 6)]

The steel looks like the materials of the Stronghold’s gates. Some keyed wards?

With measured steps, she moved and watched as the Mana continued to ignore her. Till at last, she could reach the clasp, her fingers tips met a rise of Heat that licked within her before vanishing.

Protection from Good spell, a ward or something close. Evil though is free to stab you in the back.

[Arcane ( 2 -> 3)

Mana Sense (6 - > 7)]

Oh, fuck you. That was a hint, but okay, thanks. Even if you are a sick son of a bitch. There are people injured in RPGs Priests can heal. Just hope that is the case here.

Decided by that thought, she moved and unsecured it with haste, ignoring the calls from those nearby. The clasp and bolt moved with ease, and as she peered within, silver seized her sight. Eyes of gleaming mercury locked on her own, blurring all else to her sight. In her Mana Sense, ribbons of energy swirled in a constant spiral in yet their motion couldn’t distract from the gaze.

“What price will charge for my novice’s freedom, fallen one of Eros?”

The words didn’t need any translation; rather she knew this language just as she had Abyssal. Instead of the razors and poisons that had first lashed her mind, this one was musical, calm, peaceful. She paused only for a moment before she mentally shrugged and reformed her tongue.

So this is celestial?

“I don’t understand,” Julia said.

Her focus on the sense of it seemed to form her intent, and without knowing how similar liquid sounds spilt from her lips quietly from her lips

“Play not your games. I wish you to release my novice's Soul. Tell me what is your Price for her?”

The language didn’t change; it was still musical fluid peaceful, yet his tone washed drawn steel underneath its flow.

“No games. If you’ll tell me how to free her. I will. No conditions, nothing owed. I don’t understand what you mean, though.”

“What?!?”

The surprised look on the Priest's face would have been drawn a laugh from Julia, except for the topic's seriousness.