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Despite the revelation that Katana and I might be nothing more than thought forms who went a bit rogue, I'm not even given the chance to have a proper mental breakdown before Condescending Psychic Deer is opening his mouth to reveal a row of over-sharp teeth -- because of course there are carnivoristic herbivores in this 'wonderland.'   I stare at the deer's gaping, dripping maw, bite the inside of my cheek to pinch off a scream, close my eyes, and fist the sharp hairpin in my pocket, already bracing for the inevitable before Katana begins speaking again:     Part of me wonders if Katana being singled out and sidelined would culminate in Katana being eaten, since he seems to have no other obvious usefulness to anyone in this place than harboring MacGyver-like rescourcefulness for fishing drowning cats from rivers, being cryptically anachronistic and ahistorical, and menacing the local populace with his sword at unfortunate moments. And part of me -- a very, very small of part of me -- may be alarmed at the possibility. And admittedly, not just because I'm apparently wearing the only change of clothing I own, and trying to get bloodstains out of them would mean drawing on domestic knowledge that hasn't seemed to  have spontaneously occurred in my brain yet.   "I, er...I can't believe I'm saying this, but we're a package deal. We'll keep an eye on him, and if he puts a toe out of line, we'll shake him down for everything remotely sharp and pointy on his person." I look at Jack for solidarity, but then remember that he's been labeled the only non-wonderland native among us, and my expression probably comes off looking more unsure than I want it to. I can't help but wonder how he's taking the news regarding his companions.

"Are you sure about this? You would be safer in the ship."  Lena stood in Alexa's door, the Inquisitor readying her gear up. Most of the things were in good shape, and whatever damage it had suffered had been repaired as best as they could aboard the Bellum. In contrast, however, her coat still had the marks of battlewear, a couple of tears at the tail and the seams, but still fully functional.  "I'm not staying inside while all of you risk your lives Lena. We already talked about this." Answered the Inquisitor, fitting a glove over her cybernetic hand, a serious neutral look on her face.  The Guardian nodded silently, already in full armor.  "Piercing the warp veil. Arrival at Kadia imminent." The two walked to the bridge as the Imperator Bellum made it's last boost towards realspace. There was a few seconds of silence, follow by a low gasp of most present when the situation unveiled in front of them.  It was worse than she had thought.  "I have never seen a Daemon engine that size!" Alexa exclaimed, her eyes surveying all around the field. She walked towards Tenkai and James. Pondering her past encounters with large daemonic presences and her old teachings. She could feel the sheer pull of warp energy from the ship-like being, her eyes glinting as an idea formed on her mind.  "It's energy signature is too heavy to be that stable. A being that size must be having something inside it tethering it to this plane, otherwise it would be displacing constantly." She explained to the two commanders.  "Your orders Lord Eredas?" Lena asked, putting her helmet back on. 

“I’ve decided to keep my identity to myself for now,” Arthur declared in that same unbudging tone, not relenting even for a second. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t know your name either and you can keep it that way if you’d like.”  Arthur paused for a moment, pondering on the revelations that Ryker revealed to him. The hole was the ruins of an ancient space-faring vessel, very much unlike the spelljammer ships fashioned in the plane he originally called home. The thought of it boosted the mutant’s thirst for adventure exponentially. He could barely contain his anticipation; the wolfish smirk and excited tremors of his body betrayed his otherwise calm demeanor. His excitement only growing further when Ryker spoke his challenge. “A little sport, huh?” Arthur replied with a deadly smirk, his eyes narrowing just before he burst into action. Before Ryker could reply, the mutant stepped forward with his right foot, stepping slightly offline so that his foot achieved the outside angle on Ryker’s left foot. Simultaneously, his right hand lashed forward in a jab-like thrust, but Arthur’s fist wasn’t balled up and his fingers were instead extended. The mage aimed to drive his index and middle fingers into Ryker’s left out. The attack wouldn’t permanently damage his newfound opponent, but it wouldn’t be what anyone would describe as fun either.    @Better Than Gore

@Dauner Light Great Hall of the Dawn Komturie IC Ambience [Recurring] IC Music [Recurring] Working through his plate, Vadrian allowed his eyes to wander over the hall from the comfort of his table. Most of these people were still quite comfortable idling with one another or to themselves. Every now and then he might catch a suspicious look as eyes met for a brief moment, as though the other person were watching in the same way he was, but many and more did not share his propensity for observation. Biting into his bread, he was just as much biting into the question of who and what exactly he was looking for. He won’t be here. Not a chance of it.  The moment that Vadrian looked down to pick his food, he was greeted by a visitor. He looked up at a familiar face, so much so that the young man who just sat down at his table had by no means intruded. Rather, he had been invited. Vadrian smiled, looking from Dauner’s meal to the lad himself. “Quite a plate you’ve got there. Though, I did say that you would have the finest meat our hosts can give us. Glad to see that you did not hold back.” Vadrian slipped a forkful of meat pie into his mouth at that, chewing on it as he studied the competitor before him. A teenage boy, barely a man by some standards, but old and brave enough to step into an arena with real weapons that could really hurt. True though it was that a combatant could not be killed in Trueblade, no matter the killing blow, the threat was still as real as the fear and the pain. This boy, this Dauner Light, might have leapt at the opportunity to take the spotlight of a tournament like this one, but Vadrian had dueled him and there was clearly experience in the hands that held two swords.  “I hope that you also do not hold back with your opponent tomorrow. A paladin of the Order of the White Hand…” He gave a musing shrug. “I was barely briefed on them, but anyone who dedicates oneself to battling Unnaturals generally understands battle.” He looked away for a moment, the great hearth that heated the hall flickering and crackling like a beating heart in the heat of a battlefield. “Well,” Vadrian gave Dauner his attention. “Win or lose in the ring, I hear that this Volentia is young. Perhaps you’ll yet win her hand and a ring of a different sort?” He smiled, lips holding back a teasing chuckle.

Well, none of the goats tried to fight him, let alone talk to him (because of course they didn't). But one of them did talk to the white haired lady in their group. Somehow. Seemingly. "Is that all the goat said?" Being able to speak to animals wasn't something he'd rule out but he couldn't help but be a little skeptical. Especially not when he himself couldn't understand goats. The others didn't seem to question the reliability of their goat-whisperer though, so he went along with them. On the topic of special abilities, Drain visibly perked up. But as eager he was to listen, he wasn't so willing to reveal much. He wasn't yet sure how the others would take to him essentially being a possessed clump of moist hair.   "I'm just flexible." He bent an arm, really just a thick tendril of hair hidden under the raincoat's sleeve, at an unnatural angle. "Not sure if that counts for anything."