Hale walked with grace out of the barracks. Her pristine [Healer] robe flowed gracefully around her, the form-fitting tunic and leggings underneath high-lighting each and every curve. Her hair, her lips, her eyes; all sculpted to perfection. The woman was gifted with a beauty that seemed alien to all those who cast their eyes upon her. It captured and hypnotized even the strongest of men. Even women weren't wholly impervious to her feminine charms.

Her aura was already in effect on the passing {Guards} who gaped at her in the keep halls. They saw her as a goddess among men and if it were not for the intense presence of Johans in the Elden region and beyond, she may have been worshipped as one. So entranced with her beauty, Hale was ever-present on the {Guards} minds. As such, they noticed instantly the perfect pearly fangs chewing on her glossy bottom lip. They gasped at the wrinkles on her brow, engaging in fervent discussion of what might be troubling their idol. They fumed as she frowned, crying out in outrage at whatever heathen might make the beaut lose her smile.

Accusations flew wildly within the keep. Friends betrayed one another, secret lovers separated, and uncaring persons were held accountable for crimes they did not commit. Elden Keep was thrown into anarchy for all but one lost and incredibly confused {Archer}, stumbling through the halls with his arms full of bows and quivers. He followed behind two giant women who were giving him a brief tour of the keep.

"What's wrong with the baker and the butcher?" Frost asked, peering down the silent hallway. His keen eyes, still strong despite his system reset, spotted not a single soul. A stark contrast compared to the rest of the keep.

"They say," Rella started, "that a {Guard} had been caught stealing food from the bread house. He'd been making meat sandwiches with meat he'd pilfered from the kitchens, too."

Frost didn't see what was wrong with that. He was starving himself. He'd figured out the pain in his stomach came from hunger when his guides told him about the dining hall - the {Guard} one, at least.

"He would have been punished for his theft because stealing is a crime," the big woman said, eyeing the young man suspiciously. He flushed, his pale cheeks turning bright pink as he fell under her scrutiny. "Alas, before he could pay, the victims, both the {Butcher} and {Baker} took the matter into their own hands. The criminal was never seen again."

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"Oh," he said.

"Oh," Rella agreed, looking solemn.

Wing just stared.

Clearing her throat, Rella continued, "Well. let's keep moving. We've got a couple more places we can stop at before we head to the barracks." She frowned at the bows he strained to hold. "And maybe the armory before that."

They moved along, allowing Frost a bit of time to commit the layout of the keep to memory. He asked many a question, which Rella gleefully answered. This continued until they reached the armory where Wing spoke for the first time.

"Shift," the silent giant spoke.

"Oh, darn," Rella sighed. "I'd lost track of the time showing around that other fella."

"Other fella?" Frost asked.

"Yeah! A new brother of the faith! Called himself Flake. He's the reason we found you by the doors, by the way. Said he'd be missin' his partner without you."

Frost raised his eyebrows. Really? This was new. Flake hardly ever showed his feelings, besides anger and that was mostly directed at him. Perhaps it was an act? Flake seemed like the type of guy to act tough around other people. Then again, both of them had never interacted with others before too long ago. It was much more likely the man just had severe anger issues and liked to take out his frustrations on his poor, defenseless partner.

And his obsession with his spear! You'd think he birthed the darn thing the way he protected and coddled it. Goddess forbid Frost even glance at the weapon lest he gets speared. He didn't understand why Flake was so fixated with keeping his spear safe. It wasn't like Frost could - or wanted to - use it!

Before he could think of the further atrocities the older man had committed against him, Rella cleared her throat.

"So, I, uh, I know you're lost in thought or whatever but Wing and I have to go. The barracks are just a few floors down; take a couple of lefts and you'll find the right area well enough. Take care, alright?"

"Uh, yeah, you too," he mumbled, putting his shoulder to the armory's door. He tried to push it open but the door wouldn't budge.

"Oh, it's locked," Rella said unhelpfully.

"So...do you have a key?"

"Uhhh, no."

Frost sighed. "Then what am I gonna do?"

Rella shrugged as she backed away from him. "You should get a trunk in your bunk," she said, smirking a little at her rhyme. "You might be able to store your stuff in there."

"But-"

"We really gotta go, bye!"

The two women disappeared around the corner, their footsteps stomping back the way they came. Frost sighed again. Yay, him, right?