Aseph was beyond frustrated. He was claw gnawing, pacing, snarlingly infuriated, with no end in sight. His duty was clear. The implementation of that duty, not quite so obvious. He hissed in rage, and half of the inhabitants of the room flinched. The other half remained still, watching him.

"General?"

That would be one of the ones who had flinched, one who wasn't one of his unit, a stranger. His own unit could cut their own throats before they'd mark him as a 'general' a target, here in the Abyss, although Primum was about as safe as the Abyss managed. They called him Aseph to his face, and behind his back.

"Go." He grumbled, turning away from them. They were useless. Hopeless. He'd manage this all by himself, as usual. He waited until he felt them gone, waited until the door was secured behind them before he leaned against the wall next to him, calming his breathing. There were three souls still in the room with him, immune to the order to leave him, those he fought with, those he lived with.

"Well, Aseph?" Soren demanded, and Aseph glanced at him, his eyes shadowed by his arm.

"We have to go after those units." Aseph growled, knowing that went without any sort of argument. They had people they'd lost, cut off when the Dredgion assault had pushed their lines so far back. Good people, some of their best. He didn't want to consider how far away the nearest obelisk was to those units now; it went without saying that the Dredgion shock troops had destroyed those in the swath they now controlled. Those units could be lost, gone forever, and that was no idea that Aseph wanted to face.

"Agreed." Soren stated evenly. "How?"

Aseph sighed, turned to face them. Their problem was obvious, and with that clarity, their response was obvious. "We have to find a healer able to keep up with us." He said, frowning. That, in itself, was asking a lot. That was asking for the best of the best, strong, and incredibly gifted… from a group that was usually kept safe and far away from forces like Aseph. The best healers either cooled their heels in Pandemonium, or were surrounded by blades in the largest legions. Asking for one that was willing to go into the depths of the Abyss with only his fast scouting unit to keep them safe was almost too much to dream of. And with this renewed push, the big legions were snapping them up as quickly as they could be trained. As soon as they showed up in Primum, they were ordered into a Legion, and were out of Aseph's grasp.

"Not here." He had calmed enough to finally start thinking. "I'm going to have to go to Asmodae to get one."

"If that's what it takes." Soren shrugged, sinking his mass into the nearest chair. "Just find one quickly, Aseph. Primum bores me."

Aseph nodded in complete agreement. Primum bored him as well, and he understood Soren's ill ease. They were here for the Balaur, for blood, not for these petty games. "It won't be that easy, Soren." He warned. Finding a cleric able to keep up with them, willing to leave Asmodae's relative safety, to go push into the Abyss backed with only a handful of daeva… the idea made Aseph's head spin.

The gladiator chuckled, bounced to his feet, and stalked up on the much smaller Aseph. "Aion smiles upon you, Aseph." The man chuckled, resting his claws on Aseph's shoulders. "If it's meant to be, you'll find us one. Now, go look for him, while we get ready."

Aseph snorted, but stepped into motion, his progress utterly silent. He was nothing more than a hint of a feeling by the time he reached the door. The closest member of his unit opened it, to let him pass, and he was gone, unnoticed, into Primum's chaos. He didn't want those who watched him to realize what he was after, to deny him what he needed. He would start in the closest place… Morheim.

Moriah frowned, once again casting a quick glance over her shoulder. She couldn't quite shake the oddest feeling that she was being watched. Scrutinized to the very pit of her soul. Weighed. Measured. Contemplated. It set her nerves on edge, and she once again let her gaze roam over the eight people in the inn with her.

Nine.

What? She frowned, and let the knowledge flow in. There were nine living bodies in the common room with her. The eight she could see, and one more, which she had to feel by measuring their life…their health. She began paring away the distractions, focusing on that bloom of obscured life. Yes, definitely. He, and it was indeed male, was healthy. Living, his body imbued with Aion's breath and blessing…a daeva. Hiding in plain sight. An Elyos spy? There was no reason why one of their own would…

No. She could feel his balance now, how he stood poised, relying on the grip of his claws for traction. Asmodean male assassin, who was either playing games, or had some valid reason to be ignored. Neither appealed to her, and she gloomily stared into her bowl. Now that she was out of Pandemonium, it seemed as the drive to move had vanished, dissipated. She had apparently thrown away the opportunity of a lifetime to sit in an inn in Morheim and mope….

Aseph froze in disbelief. She knows I'm here. How? He wished he could just overlook her focused glance in his direction, but he couldn't. He hadn't gotten this good, lived this long, by not realizing when he'd been seen. In that split second, she had made him, measured him, and then… dismissed him as a threat.

What is she? Interesting question. The obvious was indeed, obvious. Lovely Asmodean young woman, garbed in a mishmash of unmatched clothing. While all of it was worn, the patterns of the wear didn't fit her body… she had bought them used. Her glances were often furtive; she was hoping to be overlooked. She was hiding, and doing a piss poor job of it… wearing old, used clothing while her claws gleamed with gems and orichalcum. She had a Cube slung over her shoulder, and like her appearance, its appearance had an attempt at obfuscation. As if the waft of power coming out of that leather cover could be hidden.

"So. Tell me." He began, sliding onto the bar stool right next to her. As expected, she didn't squeal, jump, or even gasp at his sudden appearance. "How did you find me?"

She chuckled. "I felt you. Your life. Your health."

He digested the words silently. Certainly it couldn't be this easy? Only a cleric would be able to do what she had just claimed to do, a damn fine cleric…because he was a damn fine assassin. He tamped down a sudden rush of hope; this must be a Legion cleric, moving to meet her unit in Primum. She appeared young, but that meant little to his people. He had ascended young as well, caught forever now in the first breath of adulthood. That had been the age that Aion had claimed this one as well. She could be centuries old, and that was how she felt… he dropped his gaze to the bar.

"My apologies for disturbing you, Cleric."

She smiled. "No need to apologize." She extended a hand to him, cautiously. She wasn't used to the artificial edge on those claws yet…and her armor, clumsily hidden under her poor attempt at a disguise, was shining and new. "Moriah."

"Aseph." He gingerly accepted the gesture…the last thing he needed was to lose a few fingers to a youngling getting used to a new set of knives. There was no glimmer of recognition in her lovely golden eyes at his name. No, she wasn't a veteran he just had never had the chance to meet before; she was shiny new to this. "What brings you to Morheim, Moriah?" She was a cleric; she had not corrected him when he'd called her such…

Her lower lip tightened. "I'm going into the Abyss." She stated, an edge of defiance in her tone. Definitely not expected by any Legion… She wasn't supposed to be here, someone was missing their bright and shining very young cleric.

"Oh?" He queried, motioning to the shugo barkeep, and pointing at her. "A drink for the lady. Something hot and non alcoholic."

"Certainly, kind daeva."

Her gaze was measuring, wary, but she had calmed a little with the stipulation that the drink would not fuddle her mind. She might be young, but she was wary.

"Which is your unit?" He asked, although he guessed the answer. She had run away from somewhere, he just had to get her to admit she didn't have one. Once that was out in the open, he could start the dance.

"Unit?" She accepted the drink from the barkeep, her eyes still planted firmly on Aseph, her expression still wary. "I have…none." She finally admitted. "I will go with whichever is going the same direction I am."

That was not quite the answer that Aseph had been expecting, and he paused to consider. No unit, but she had a direction? A purpose? "Oh?" He prodded cautiously, and she nodded, pulling out a rolled scroll and dropping it before him on the bar. He opened it, scanned its contents, his heart sinking. He'd never given much thought to these, his family had been nonexistent before he'd even ascended, and the two hundred years since then had only confirmed that lack. He was alone. If he vanished, no one would be the unlucky recipient of this… the notification that a family member was lost in the Abyss.

"I want him back." She hissed, her face going vicious, her eyes lighting with rage. "If I have to go after him myself, then I will."

"Your lover?" He queried softly. He knew the young templar in question by reputation, and this was most certainly not Rasmus's vacuous female sibling. This was a young one, just as Rasmus was; lovely enough for that one's family, and shining with the same promise. They'd make a divinely blessed couple…

"No. He's my guardian." She dismissed his question very easily, and simply. No attempt at hiding. "He was lost forward of Asteria…."

"I know where he was lost." He replied, and her eyes skimmed his face. He gave her a lopsided grin in response, damn, the girl was pretty… but there was work to be done. "My name is Aseph. I command one of our fast response scout units; we'll be looking for the three lost units…"

Her brow rose. "And you're in Morheim, why?" She snapped, and his grin widened.

"Lost my cleric on our way through the core. Don't have a healer….or do I?"

"If that's where you're headed, and if you're headed there fast, then you do." She wrapped claws around her staff, and stood. He stared up, doing his best to not let his jaw drop. Seated, she had not seemed so imposing…but now, looming over him, it was obvious that she was taller than even Soren managed, and Aseph's right hand man was a big one. Aseph opened his mouth… he had questions, several of them, but she seemed in little mood to wait for him to ask. Well, she'd still have to be processed in Primum, and the personnel officer there would be quick to let him know if there were problems other than her obvious youth and inexperience. If she was not as good as she seemed to be….finding him while he was stealthed by nothing more than feeling his health…. He could just leave her to be picked up by another Legion.

"To…Primum, then." He muttered, motioning in the correct direction. She nodded, heading resolutely for the door. "Let me go through, first." He instructed, "I want my second there… there are bigger units who are looking for a cleric. But they're not heading where you are, nor are they going at any sort of speed. They'll try to turn the personnel officer to putting you with them. Say it's good for you."

It probably was good for her, but it ran contrary to her stated goals, and his. "No." She stated coldly. "I'm going after Ras. If that's where you're going, then you'll do." She glanced up, and Aseph understood that look. It was an acceptance of Aion's touch, the same certainty he was beginning to feel in his heart. This was the cleric he wanted. Any idea of going after another had faded completely.

"Give me an hour, and we'll meet you at the Landing at Primum."

She nodded, and settled herself in the chair nearest the door, her attention now completely away from the inn and its inhabitants. Certain that she would do as she was asked; Aseph left the inn, dropping into a sprint the moment his claws hit snow. A stride later, he unfurled his wings, black and gray, hooked and ominous, and took to the air. He hit the ring teleporter without pause, and Morheim's chill, calm air gave into blackness and the underlying pulsing throb always present in the Abyss. He landed, folding his wings and using his forward momentum to step into a bobbing stride, headed towards the Keep.

"Back already?" Soren asked, and Aseph shrugged. He had been gone for less than an hour; it would have taken him longer to search Primum, much less Asmodae, for a cleric.

"Aion blesses." He replied, "Get the others; she's about half an hour behind me."

"She?" The gladiator caught the pronoun, tilting his head curiously. "Who?"

"Moriah. She's a family member of one of the missing. Going after him." Aseph cut off the other questions Soren was bound to have with a quick, dismissive wave. "Get the others. Like I said, she's only about a half hour behind me. We move fast now." He wasn't in the mood to argue over this, and he could see plenty they'd find to disagree with.

"Yessir." Soren chuckled, moving away. "I'll get them, you go wait in case she comes early."

Moriah stood, staring up. She only vaguely remembered anything other than Pandemonium, and this was certainly not there. And beyond that ring dominating the horizon…the Abyss. She pondered the distance, like every daeva, she possessed wings. She could fly, but her occasions to actually fly had been rare. If it was anyone but Ras, she'd go home in a heartbeat, but…

She unfurled her wings, exulting in their weight and luxury. All she had to do was fly, and meet the assassin in Primum. She frowned at the idea. She didn't know him, except for his word and a simple name. And he certainly did not look trustworthy… she had never seen a daeva look less trustworthy. He was scrawny. Feral, with an intent, predatory stare. Small, the top of his head even with her collarbone. While he didn't seem unbathed, he just managed to seem not quite…clean.

Appearances are deceiving. That one has the soul of a great hero wrapped in the most unlikely of shells. Like you, he was born in low circumstances.

"Hhmph." Moriah breathed her discontent into the wind, then shook it away. Enough. It was time to repay a favor; it was time to go after Ras. She hopped into the air, feeling her wings catch lift, and Morheim fell away from her.

"We have a cleric?" Petric sounded dubious, and Aseph didn't blame him. He'd been gone only a couple of hours, and now he thought he had a cleric ready, willing and able to take this job?

"Yes." He answered the gloomy spiritmaster, his gaze fixed on the ring beyond the edge of the Landing. "There." He felt her appearance more than saw it…she was Asmodean, her coloring blended with the shadows of the Abyss. She finally became visible and he studied her approach. She had a big wingspread, and a powerful flight, he'd been a little afraid she'd come out of the ring disoriented and weak. But no, she flew straight and fast, dropping out of the sky to land next to Aseph. Petric raised a brow, and Soren blinked in obvious amazement. Tebber grinned, and she stared back uncertainly at the group.

"Soren, Petric, and Tebber. Gladiator, spiritmaster and ranger. This is Moriah, our new cleric." Her wings vanished in a puff of shed feathers, and Tebber picked one of them up, studying it, before tucking it away and gazing mildly back at Aseph and Moriah when the pair stared. "In case I need to find her." He stated calmly, and Aseph nodded. The ranger was a very close second in 'finding people' to him, and he would be comforted knowing that Tebber had what he needed to make a search easier…if it was necessary.

"This way, Moriah." The sooner they were out of Primum, the better.