Feyre
She stalked off into the forest. Karrlund called after her, calling her Inquisitor and not Feyre so she crossed her arms and corrected him slightly harsher than she meant to.
"Feyre. Not Inquisitor, I am not my job!"
She winced slightly at the sharpness of her own voice she hadn't meant to snap at him for such an honest mistake but her from the real world had slipped through her facade. Now she had to come up with an excuse to explain her sudden shift lest he becomes suspicious or something. Or at least that's what she told herself as she easily lied.
"Apologies... I am tense due to something that happened recently."
Feyre sighed and not for the first time today. She just wanted to be alone. The constant adrenaline of her fighting for survival and whatnot so far had worn off and now she just felt tired and bored. Sleeping on the horse with Pavolia was a short lived respite and plagued by Feyre waking up at Pavolia's yelps of fear when she leaned one way or the other. It also didn't help that she was covered in dried blood that made it super uncomfortable and kind of awkward for her to be around people. It was almost as if normal people got freaked out by an armoured lady covered in blood trying to talk to them.
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Karrlund
Hearing the Inquisitor, no he should call her Feyre now, apologised to him before he could apologise first kind of hurt Karrlund. He hadn't meant to call her Inquisitor again it just happened and obviously there was something going on. Ever since she had left the cave and seemed slightly injured she had been different. He wasn't going to follow her anymore but had decided, then and there, he was at least going to try become as close to a friend as she'd allow. Inquisitor or not, Feyre had made it clear she was a human too. All humans that served [The System] had flaws, faults and could be scared. To Karrlund, it was their actions and reactions to the world around that mattered. He was going to turn away when he saw Feyre rub her abdomen, the part of her armour which was covered in the most blood. Obviously Karrlund thought nothing of it and went back to the group. Inquisitor Feyre wasn't someone who could be injured like that.
...
It had been some hours since he'd seen Feyre go off on her own, and when that woman who'd fainted after Feyre had whispered something asked about her he paused. Who was it that she'd buried, Karrlund wondered that when he had prayed at the burial and had wondered that again while the carriage was moving. He rounded up the whole group and drew in breath before asking.
"Does anyone here know who the man Inquisitor Feyre buried was? I won't ask how you know, unless it could be a threat to everyone here..."
No one raised their hand or voice for a minute or two. Then two shaky hands raised almost simultaneously. One from the one who'd fainted and one from another woman, the first one to recognise Feyre as an Inquisitor in the group.
"It was Korot the Fallen Hero I think..."
"It was Korot Lord of Nothing I think..."
Karrlund stared at the two, trying to process what they had just told him. Korot the Fallen was a fairy tale told to kids warning them that with great strength comes the ability to be corrupted by rage or anger. Korot the Fallen was a story that he'd heard many times at the adventurers guild, the only piece of it that was consistent was his looks... And they fit the description of the beastial man perfectly. Karrlund, one of many that can trace their home village or town's continued existence back to the [Era of Heroes] shuddered. Korot was probably the last recorded [Hero] ever. A man who was supposedly a reincarnation of of P0TAT00_2 the second strongest [Beserker Hero] in history. If Feyre had killed someone like him then, perhaps she had been grievously wounded and tried hiding it as to not worry the civilians and maybe even Karrlund's party. Karrlund shook his head, thinking back to his history lessons and dismissing all the woman who'd gathered back to their pots of stew. The name Feyre suddenly sounded more familiar... There was the hero Feyre_#93 who was apparently related to all 92 other Feyre's through a magical link and could swap places with them at will. Maybe this Feyre is a descendant, or maybe at this point Karrlund was overthinking it and needed to drink some [Potion of Calm].
He would have done just that if Feyre hadn't chosen that exact moment to return, no longer bloodied and no longer wielding anything but her shield. For the first time everyone saw the shine that an [Inquisitor's Armour-Set] gave off. She nodded at them and sat down with Tyrril and Pavolia on one of the many logs Karrlund had set up as benches. She placed her shield down and nodded again before speaking.
"Yeah... It was Korot... He got a good few hits on me but I got him way worse with mine. I pitied him, a man who had only hate for all these years, so I laid him to rest and prayed for his soul to be reincarnated by the system."
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Then Karrlund saw her lean against her shield, rest her head on it, and promptly fall asleep.
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Tyrril
He supposed that if he was to be anywhere in the world, being next to a talented [Mage] and a sleeping [Inquisitor] wasn't the worst outcome he could think of. He would be remarkably safe no matter what happened around him as long as the two women didn't dislike him for whatever reason. Tyrril was quite confident in his charisma as to not be disliked by most people of a good or amicable nature so again, he didn't think it was a bad thing to be next to such a talented duo.
The soft breathing coming from under Feyre's helmet made him question the comfortability of an enchanted metal helmet built solely for war. Then he just mentally shrugged, one of the same strength as her wouldn't care about comfort would she... Tyrril smiled politely at Karrlund as he walked by, looking puzzled about the origin of this Inquisitor called Feyre. Tyrril had no doubt that Karrlund had thought up some elaborate and completely incorrect backstory for the Inquisitor and if he wasn't extremely unwilling to risk waking said inquisitor he would've asked to hear Karrlund's theory.
...
It was almost daybreak now, Tyrril had somehow dozed off in amongst the pondering and murmuring, that was ever present even now, from the saved women. Never one to waste time he was given he got up and strolled leisurely but quietly to his carriage. Inside was a couple personal belongings along with a few luxury items he planned to sell once they reached their final destination in a couple months. He'd always been in awe of the Iftani, while not technically being native the zealots had never gone out of their way to make things harder like in most countries and empires. Tyrril wondered sometimes how a Theocracy of such magnitude was the lead in design and the general welfare of the people, then he thought that if there wasn't an [Inventor] or something that is supposedly chosen by [The System] then it'd be declared heresy. That meant, in his mind, that there was definitely a class called [Inventor] he bet the skills were amazing.
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Pavolia
Tyrril tried sneaking off to check his wares as he did every morning just before daybreak. Pavolia just sat in a tree and watched, as she always did because she didn't trust his ability to be able to defend himself if something happened. Not that she'd ever let him know she did this. He'd end up making her accept even more money she doesn't want to take from him. Merchants, always thinking money is the best gift when actually she'd much prefer for him to write a letter of recommendation for the church so she can be absolved of her heresy before it gets her executed by someone like Feyre.
Pavolia continued watching; watching Tyrril who was trying not to wake anyone; watching Karrlund who was still very deep in thought even now; watching Feyre who had woken up a couple hours ago and was praying to [The System] since; and finally watching Emrik who was fiddling around with his armour, trying to get it on properly. She giggled and hopped down off the tree, using mana manipulation to soften the landing and then walks over to him smirking. She wasn't one to back away from an opportunity to poke fun at ally, while helping him out of course, and the [Rogue] that was Emrik was certainly one of those, if not a bit better acquainted than just mere allies.
"Good morning Em! Need some help with your armour straps?"
She had schooled her face before speaking, putting on a polite and friendly smile rather than her struggling not to laugh kind of smirk. She had a reputation as calm and kind to uphold after all. Emrik stared at her and was probably going to deny needing help but then he promptly fumbled on one of the straps and caught his thumb in between himself and the now very tight strap. Emrik cursed loudly and violently before nodding his head. He looked quite embarrassed as She leant over and deftly did all his straps on the armour up.
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Esteri
The mortals were weird. Esteri knew that the long haired mortals and the short haired mortals could bind and create another mortal, and yet none of these long haired mortals were binding with the 3 short haired mortals. It was a confusing sight but Esteri was smart so she already knew that mortals were very weird. After all, mortals went out of their way to look for Esteri and yet none of them were strong enough to survive Esteri's burning love. Why would you seek out one of Esteri's race without being fire resistant at the very least? Esteri shook her head and swooped down at a little four legged tusked morsel that was barely the size of a fully grown version of the short haired mortals. Barely enough to satisfy her but it was worth it for the taste. Unlike weird complicated mortals Esteri was quite simple. Esteri loves eating good things, and Esteri loves fighting. That's why Esteri likes the mortals which don't wear other animals or weird ground rocks. Those types of mortals are the most like Esteri, and sometimes they're fire resistant.
Esteri was back up high. Very very high. Higher than any of those mortals could ever get. Ever since Esteri had been very small and maybe even weaker than the mortals down there, her egg layer told her stories of ones who looked like mortals but we're so powerful that [The System] itself sometimes changed if enough of them spoke out. There had been times back then, that Esteri laughed at her egg layer in the same way one might laugh at a mortal thinkkng they could kill Esteri. Now, however, Esteri had proof. Esteri's egg layer was actually a 'mount' for one of the supposed 'heroes'. Esteri didn't know what thise two words really meant but she knew it was significant. She often found her egg layer never said anything insignificant.
Esteri hovered there, watching with interest as the mortals went about their routines. Sometimes the long haired ones looked at the short haired ones but quickly turned away when the short haired ones looked at them. Esteri didn't know if this was the mortals' mating rituals or what, but she certainly knew it was weird. She did see one of the long haired ones, who was in the top 7 in terms of strength, go to a short haired one, also in the top end of the strength scale, and assist in putting on some of the furry skin and shiny earth rocks. Esteri shuddered and shook her head at the thought of being forced into the animal skin and shiny rocks and went back to watching the only actually dangerous mortal there.
That very same mortal who, impossibly, also seemed to be watching her.