After a heart-to-heart over drinks following the pair's encounter with a vicious subterranean vampire, a conversation where Sylvari made sure in no uncertain terms that Everett knew of her cursed nature, she was relieved that had still remained in her company. Moreover, he even agreed to accompany her on her next job, a decision that Sylvari was sure he would come to regret in short order, given that her next target was a pair of burrowing armored worms terrorizing the Marsh Flats.

The region was bleak and inhospitable enough without bad memories or unsavory reasons to visit, which Sylvari had in spades. Luckily, she had retrieved her frigid steed, Mercy, to spare them the more mundane of the travails of the swamp: soaked clothing and the prevalent leeches that infested the place. Sylvari made accommodation so that both she and Everett could ride Mercy if he deigned, and she was happy to be able to offer this small comfort at least.

Until now, given her focus of the revelation of her true nature, Sylvari hadn't broached the topic she was most interested in: Everett's surprise mastery of powerful sky arcana which had turned their previous fight in the pair's favor.

"So, Everett. Since we have a bit of downtime while we hunt our targets, care to fill me in on any other 'flashy moves' you might bring to bear for this adventure?" Sylvari adopted a light tone, hoping that it would be taken as inoffensive banter and not a rude prying into her new friend's affairs.

SPOILER: Click to show

Quest Name: The Ground Moved

Participants: Two or more

Location: Marsh Flats

Post Requirements: 6 post per person, 200 words per post

Reward: +1 Renown, +2 Hide

Description: A pair of Vorrapedes have been causing issues in the Marsh Flats, ambushing travelers and destroying small encampments. They are quick, smart and able to move beneath the murky marsh with ease. Things are getting out of hand and it's time something is done. We need someone to go in and remove the worm problem. Don't take this job lightly, they work together as a pair and have been highly successful in avoiding capture.

Everett is surprised by Sylvari's admission to being a vampire, but he's more surprised to learn there are different kinds. He's somewhat relieved that Sylvari doesn't have to sustain herself on blood, but overall his opinion of her changes very little. In fact, learning that she is struggling with such a condition, only makes him respect her kindness and drive for justice more.

At the prospect of getting to work with Sylvari more and earn some additional coin, Everett eagerly agrees to go with her to the Marsh Flats to hunt down some skittering critters causing problems. 

Unlike Sylvari, Everett doesn't have many issues with the Marsh Flats. It has its beauty in ways that few appreciate because they're too busy slogging through the mud while being pursued by monsters and raiders alike. At least that's the case through the center of the low-lying region. The coasts boast sparkling clear water that rises dramatically with the tides, making for a maze of vibrant green mangroves that are home to all manner of fish, reptiles, invertebrates, and birds. 

He also has a soft spot for the Marsh Flats as it is home to one of his dear friends to whom he owes a great deal. 

The journey is an odd one, with Everett having to ride behind Sylvari on her icy equine. He's only ridden a horse, or rather a stubborn mule, once before, and well, the mule just took him for a ride. He isn't exactly a horse guy, but at least Mercy's name is very accurate considering she hasn't lit up bucking yet. 

Entertaining Sylvari's questions about himself has been...difficult. He tries his best to answer honestly, but his lack of clear memories from his past makes it harder for him not to come off like he's being dodgy or secretive. 

"I'd love to fill you in, but...I didn't know I could even do that."

He's reflected a lot on what happened in the sewers, and he's even tried to replicate what happened with little success. How is it that conjuring that lightning had felt as natural as breathing, effortless and without him having to think, yet when he tries to do it consciously he just can't manage to recreate the feeling?

"Look uhm...a few weeks ago, I woke up washed on a beach with barely any memories of who I am or how I ended up there."

His name. That was basically all he had. Even now, he still can't really tell her what he used to do as a profession, if he has any family waiting for him somewhere, or if he is some terrible escaped convict. Some fragments of his memories, at least more recent ones he thinks, have flitted through his mind every now and then. But almost as quickly as they come, they disappear again. 

"I have very few memories from before that. It's been...weird. I get these feelings from time to time that are like when you know you should recognize someone but you can't remember their face or name."

There's only one person he can recall more clearly, but he's not sure how much Lady Calyptra would be okay with him speaking of her. She's kind of a hermit and he wants to respect her privacy. 

Sylvari turned her head to look back at her companion as he spoke, her uncovered crimson eyes set upon him, as she had decided to forgo her customary veil in this uncivilized place. She wished she was in a position to give him a hug, or at least hold his hand to express her support, but that was currently impossible, given their seating arrangement. She frowned and resolved herself to settle for reaching back to place her left hand on her Everett's thigh as a silent gesture of support.

"Oh darling, I'm so sorry to hear that. That's positively awful. To lose all one's memories, it's as if losing a person entirely. Our experiences shape us into who we are as much as anything else..." Sylvari clamped her mouth shut, suddenly aware that she was drenching an already drowning man with yet more sorrow.

"Forgive me, dear. I didn't mean to exacerbate the wound." Sylvari merely rode in silence for a few minutes as she thought of something she could say to provide some measure of relief, her hand never leaving its resting place on her friend's leg.

"Do you... want to talk about it? I can't imagine I would be able to help in any tangible capacity, but for a dear friend, I would be willing to listen." Sylvari's faced broke into a gentle, if pained smile.

Everett looks down at her hand. His eyes linger for a moment before he goes back to looking around at their surroundings. 

"It's alright," he says softly after a few moments of silence stretched awkwardly between them. "Sometimes I'm afraid of what kind of person I might have been." 

He'd be lying if he said he didn't lose sleep over it. What if his past comes back to haunt him? What if it doesn't? What would he even say to anyone who knew him, but he didn't remember at all? He closes his eyes and pushes those thoughts away. There was nothing he could do about it as he currently is, especially when bits and pieces of his memory pop up so erratically. 

"I appreciate the offer. I did meet someone who tried to help me remember. He uh, did this weird hypnotism which I guess unlocked something, but it wasn't exactly a pleasant memory if that's what it was."

Reflecting on the interaction, Aledune's actions that night were a little weird, weren't they? The strange man claimed to be a scholar, yet he spoke in such an odd way and clearly had some mysterious abilities. He wonders where he ended up and if he has made a habit of delving into people's subconscious. 

"Now that I think about it, weird that he did anything since he said his studies were focused on the light and dark magic domains." 

"Hypnotism, you say...?" Sylvari briefly thought to her abilities of command, granted to her by her cursed heritage. Theoretically, that might bring some repressed memories to bear, particularly if they were the result of some sort of imposed mental block. 

Sylvari shook the thought from her mind. She found it repulsive to use such a violator of free will on an innocent person, and a friend to boot. Moreover, Everett's statement that he was afraid of his past life hinted at his feelings on the matter. Would he even want to remember? Would it still be Everett if he was restored? This person he has crafted in the void of amnesia: some might see it as a second chance at life, but if you truly remember nothing, it's another person that I'm sitting here with now.

Sylvari forced another pained smile for Everett's sake, to express her sympathy. "Whatever you decide, I will support you. If you want your old memories back, I'll search for whatever I can in my travels that might help you. However, you don't need to reclaim them if you're uncomfortable. You're no less of a person for what you've lost, and I think you've borne with this trial admirably." Sylvari squeezed Everett's leg supportively, before pulling it back before her, letting her dark arcana swirl through her fingers as she contemplated his final words.

"This world is a wide and varied place. I don't think we can judge people just by the arts they practice alone. We need to see the hearts behind their actions." She idly thought about what Everett would think if she showed him her own mastery of the dark arcana. The only time she had used it in his presence before was in the pitch black of the city sewers.

"Thank you."

It's all he can really say. He doesn't know what is best. Reclaiming his memories would answer a lot of his questions, but what if he changes? What if it turns out that losing his memories wasn't an accident? What if someone did something to him...or if he chose it himself? That's the scariest thing to him. If it wasn't an accident, what would have driven him to lose so much willingly?

He appreciates Sylvari's willingness to help him. He really does. But he worries about whether her opinion of him would change based on what they discover if they end up discovering anything at all. 

"Oh, I didn't mean to insinuate anything about their character," he explains. "Magic is just a tool and good people can do bad things with it and bad people can do good things. I just didn't think that either of those domains had anything to do with memories. I could be wrong."

Watching the trees go by as Mercy trudges through the swamp, he can't help but wish for the wide skies of the open sea. It's not as claustrophobic as the sewers had been, and, at least for that, he's grateful. 

"I imagine it's hard for you to not be judged for your curse even though you don't hurt people like people might expect."

The deafening silence following Everett's words said more than Sylvari's words ever could. Only the soft, frosty footfalls of Mercy and the ambient rustling of tree leaves from a passing breeze could be heard. "That's not... I deserve all their scorn and more." Sylvari choked back tears, ordering herself to be strong. Idiot. Don't make this about you AGAIN. Everett is reaching out in empathy to have solidarity in pain. What's happened is something you should live with, but you burden every person who asks with your shame, unable to bear it yourself. But go on, chain down another unsuspecting victim with pity for yourself.

Despite her harsh internal monologue, Sylvari couldn't hold back the torrent of words that spilled from her mouth. "I've... hurt people, Everett. People who didn't deserve it. People who were good and just and in the wrong place at my worst times. People who won't ever come back..." She reached up to cradle her head with her left hand, as a head-splitting migraine took hold of her, her memories at war with her heart for righteousness. Swirling ghosts of the past haunted her in waking visions. Banbraith, the young shepherd boy, all of her victims swirling the pair as they ventured deeper into the swamp, pointing accusing fingers at the vampiress, in silent fury.

Now you've done it again. Weakling.

Sylvari's reaction is not at all what Everett was expecting. He panics as he realizes that he's upset her and it's bad enough that she seems in pain. 

"Hey, hey, don't say that." He puts a firm hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her as best he can. He can't see her face, but he can feel her trembling under his palm. 

This clearly is something she has been struggling with for a while. He can't imagine how difficult things must be for her, having to be more guarded around others just to ensure they're not accidentally hurt by her curse. 

"People hurt each other all the time," he says gently, "and some don't even feel bad about it. You clearly care and are trying to be better, that means something. At least, that's what I think."

He can't speak for Sylvari's victims, and they likely have every right to resent her for whatever happened. Forgiveness is not something people have an endless well of, and some actions are unforgivable. Even if he could speak to how Sylvari has treated him, he doesn't know her very well yet and her past is as much a mystery to him as his own is. 

"You can't take back what you did in the past, but you can learn from it and do better. People change, and for what it's worth, I think it's clear you are working very hard on making up for the missteps you made."

Sylvari's physical tremors increased with the volume of her internal accuser, barely aware of Everett's comforting hand on her shoulder. 'But I killed them, Everett! Can't you see I'm a no-good wretch that nobody should ever, ever love. Just like Daddy did, throw me away. Hate me, hate me!' That's what you want to say, isn't it, weakling? And for what? Some fleeting justification that you were right? That the world is too cruel, and nothing is really your fault? LOOK AT THEM.

Sylvari gasped and looked up to see Banbraith's desiccated, spectral form accusing her. No amount of absolution will ever bring them back. Don't you DARE try to say this wasn't your fault. You killed them, and caused empty chairs at family tables forevermore. Pathetic.

Peace, dear child. Be kind to yourself, and be kind to the friend who is reaching out to you, despite his own pain. Listen to his words of wisdom: yesterday is but smoke and fleeting shadows. Commit yourself to healing pain rather than causing it: starting with your companion.

Th-thank you, Mistress Ellyria. It was only the second time her celestial patron had spoken to her directly, and again it was at a failure of spirit. But no, Sylvari wouldn't allow herself to wallow in misery anymore. She rested a gauntleted hand over the one Everett comforted her with and looked back with a grateful smile.

"Thank you, my dear, truly. You're right, lamenting what cannot be changed only makes one less effective for those they can still help. I'll soldier on, for your sake and my own."

The heartfelt moment was rather ruined by a rumbling beneath the earth as ripples indicating a massive force in the water originated mere feet away from where Mercy currently walked.

Everett's relieved to see a smile return to Sylvari's face, but something still feels...precarious and unsettled. Sylvari shared her troubling curse with him, but was there more to it? That seems like a dumb question the more he thinks about it. Of course, there is more to it than just the whole magic-draining thing, but they still are just strangers to one another. He shouldn't expect that Sylvari would confide everything that troubles her to him. Especially the stuff that is so painful that it causes her to shake. 

He's about to say something when they're interrupted by the ground shaking. The conversation would have to wait as the path behind Mercy's hind end erupts. Clods of dirt and roots fly up into the air and pelt them from behind and a serpentine-like insect lunges at the frosty steed's haunches. Everett slips his hand off Sylvari's shoulder as he spins around and swings the heel of his boot into the outstretched mandibles of the ambushing insect. 

Admittedly, this is not the greatest plan as the creature curls its sharp pincers around the leather boot and pulls back sharply. Everett is pulled clean off of Mercy's back and lands heavily on the soft, moss-covered ground below. 

"Owowowowowowow!"

The vorrapede starts to crush his boot between its pincers as the rest of its articulated legs try to get a hold of its fresh catch. 

Everett points the palm of his hand at the creature.

Nothing happens. There's no lightning like last time. That feeling of familiarity escapes him.

"C'mon, c'mon!"

The wind picks up, and a sudden burst of air slams into the vorrapede while pushing him in the opposite direction.^[1] His boot is ripped off his foot and hangs in the bug's jaws. At least he gets out relatively unscathed as he tumbles backward and lands in the shallow water.

He sits up and coughs. "Sure. That works." He wipes his face and looks at Sylvari. "I'm okay!"

He then looks back at the vorrapede which is proceeding to rip his boot apart before it burrows back down beneath the surface.

"Eugh. These things are creepy."

---

[1] Gust Thrust

When Everett was pulled off Mercy, Sylvari reacted on pure instinct, jumping off her frosty steed and hitting her on the hindquarters to get her mount out of harm's way. She dashed over to her friend, who thankfully seemed to be whole, save for a boot that disappeared along with a gnashing carapace, down back underground.

Sylvari held her shield defensively over Everett as he regained his footing, her eyes scanning the environment for any sign of the creature. It was for naught, though. There was an eerie calm about them, only the slight mound of upturned earth where the creature had emerged and Everett's bare foot acting as evidence that anything had happened at all.

Sylvari reluctantly looked back to her friend in concern. "I'm glad you're ok. I think it's safe to say we are well and truly within their hunting grounds now. Allow me a moment to prepare, and we can decide our plan of attack."

Without waiting for a response, Sylvari began intoning under her breath and wrenching her arms at odd angles in a summoning spell. "Arise." A giant of mismatched flesh and bone arose from the mire ^{[Summon Undead Hulk]}, and another to accompany it a short time afterward as Sylvari repeated her calling ^{[Necromancer, Army of the Damned]}.

"We need to draw their attention. The heavy footfalls of my servants should work toward that end. Are you good with this plan?"

Everett gets back onto his feet while Sylvari gives him some cover. He sinks in the mud up to his ankles, but thankfully doesn't go any deeper into the swamp sludge. How Lady Calyptra can stay so clean all the time while living in a perpetually wet environment is beyond him. 

His gaze follows Sylvari's to the mound of upturned earth. His boot is completely shredded and left in pieces scattered all around. Well, at least the ground here is soft underfoot. 

"Take your time. I have one more boot they can snack on if needed."

Jokes aside, this isn't a great situation. The creatures are nigh undetectable while they're underground. They either need to wait for it to strike again, or try to lure it out into an ambush of their own. 

Needless to say, Everett was not exactly expecting to see Sylvari perform necromancy right in front of him. He can't help but step back as the undead hulks rise from the ground to join their ranks. 

"Uuuuuuuuh...sure, sounds like the only plan we have right now."

He pulls himself clear of the mud and back onto more solid ground next to Sylvari. "So, draw them out, then we need to keep them from going back underground somehow." He glances at the undead servants. "Caaaaan they grab onto them? And would they be...upset? uh...offended they get caught in any spells we cast? If my magic decides to work again, I don't want to risk accidentally frying them if that'll cause us more trouble."

A grim slash of a smile began to dominate Sylvari's face at Everett's question on the fate of her servants. "On the contrary, dear Everett. Damaging them serves to only inflame their passion for completing their orders. I should be able to order them to grapple the beast, or at least to lodge their weapons into it to prevent the creature from retreating underground. Compose yourself, darling. It's open season."

Sylvari issued a mental command for her thralls to begin stomping around, banging their weapons on trees, anything that would generate enough sonic vibrations to attract the worms. After a few seconds of this, the tell-tale rumble of the ground presaging the beast's approach began. "Get ready!" Sylvari shouted out, her mind primed to direct her servants.

As soon as the creature emerged, a whirlwind of chitin and mandibles, Sylvari ordered her undead to engage: one of them wrapping its great terrible arms around the creature and the other jamming its weapon, dripping with dark energy, into the carapace and wrenching upward, to pull the creature further from its burrow. At the same time, Sylvari launched herself into the fray, in a display of dazzling speed, plowing right into the worm and knocking it over and out of the hole it emerged from ^{[Knight, Rushing Charge]}. 

The fight seemed to be well in hand, with the dark mistress and her servants laying into a thrashing beast... until a second rumbling began.

Sylvari's change in demeanor is a little concerning for the half-elf. Given that they still do not know much about each other he's not entirely sure if she is okay or not. At the very least she appears to have her wits about her, so maybe things are fine. 

He feels a bit awkward as he stands around while Sylvari and her undead servants launch a full-on assault against one of the subterranean insects of unusual size. Since he's still not in full control of his magic, he's reluctant to try firing off more bolts of electricity in case he accidentally fries Sylvari instead of the bug. 

His idleness would not last long, however, as the second rumbling comes with a growing stretch of upturned earth that rapidly approaches them from behind. He spins around to face the approaching foe and draws his rapier. Maybe he can skewer it while it's still underground. Putting that thought to the test, he jumps forward and drives his blade down into the ground right as it starts to become disturbed by the insect's burrowing. The narrow blade sinks deep into the soft earth and the rumbling noise grows still. 

Everett waits a moment before calling over his shoulder. "I think I got the other one!"

Just then, he feels something push against his blade as the bug appears out of the dirt. The tip of his sword didn't manage to pierce the hardened carapace of the creature. It hardly left a scratch. The bug clicks its mandibles and flicks its feelers at Everett. 

"Uh..."

He inches back only to have the creature unleash a high pitched screech right in his face. Opting for a tactical retreat, he turns and sprints back across the bog. The bug is hot on his heels as it pursues him on its many, many legs. 

"NEVERMIND!"

As Sylvari cratered in the head of the first creature, she heard Everett cry out in terror following his initial confident proclamation. Hells. No such thing as an easy job in the Marsh Flats, is there? Whirling around, Sylvari saw the second Vorrapede in hot pursuit of her friend, an affront she could not allow. She groaned inwardly, feeling bad for Everett. Rapiers were fine weapons for personal defense: they were quick and light, and their design for thrusting made them capable defensive weapons in tight corridors for lightly armored opponents. Unfortunately, this was a wide open space, and the Vorrapede was nothing if not armored. Oh well, plenty of time for a lecture later.

Thinking quickly, Sylvari leapt out of the mire, knowing she would never reach Everett before the beast if she was forced to slog through the mud. While in the air, the justiciar mentally commanded ^{[Winter Crown]} her icy arcana within to form a bridge, as a thick slab of ice appeared before her over the brackish water ^{[Ice Bridge]}. Thus given solid footing, Sylvari thundered forward on an intercept course with Everett and his pursuer.

Just as the Vorrapede was lunging to sink its jaws into her friend's tender flesh, Sylvari was there, shield upraised, interposing herself between Everett and the threat ^{[Shield Hit Preventions 1/3]}, stopping the monster dead in its forward momentum, despite the massive size differential ^{[Knight, Immovable Bastion]}. Despite the incredible display of athleticism, the creature's hooked mandibles still managed to reach around Sylvari's shield to her unarmored face to cut a nasty gash above her eye.

Sylvari growled in frustration. The pain, she could manage, but fighting with only one eye, as blood oozed down the wound to cloud her vision, was out of the question. Reaching out to where her pair of servants slowly lumbered towards her foe, Sylvari grasped and wrenched, stealing for herself the resident necromantic energy animating one of the hulks, instantly closing her wound and allaying her worry of partial blindness ^{[Necromancer, Consume Essence]}. The other creature, enraged at seeing its fallen comrade, began sprinting forward, bolstered in strength as it seemed to disregard the cloying mud entirely ^{[Necromancer, Extended Frenzy]}.

Sylvari quickly glanced back to make sure her friend was ok.

"Everett! I'll keep its attention. Try to work your rapier somewhere without armor!"