And Power Has It's Price [Cas/NPC][complete]

Even in its safer areas, the Dark Area was still a place to be feared - and definitely not a place where one would want to rest to try and heal their wounds. While dragging his comrades to cover, the Zubamon would feel something different about this place, a sense of malice and dread that seeped through the air. Above, a dark,near-impenetrable set of clouds was made visible only by the glow of the nearby Sea of Blood. The ground beneath them even held that same feel of dread: where it hadn't been a rocky crag, the Zubamon would only find dry, dark peat moss covering the earth.

If it were just that sense of dread, it would have been the best they could hope for.

But off in the distance, an even more dark aura emerged, belonging to that of a terrifying beast:

Cherubimon. The mega-level pulled itself through the wastes on all fours, and thankfully, his expression was not that of anger or violence. No, this one seemed more curious than anything else: with its head near the ground and its frayed ears twitching, the beast moved from crag to crag, boulder to boulder, occasionally looking upon and lifting a sizeable stone. He would peer at the bottom, as if expecting to find something, before letting it go with a growl and disinterest.

Was it looking for something? Was it hunting? It was hard to say at this point, but wherever there would be a rock unturned, the angel would take a moment to stop. But it was wandering closer and closer...

Closer and closer, that unmistakable dark aura would inch towards the three of them, the Virus type striking fear in Dagger's heart. It did all of this, without even realizing the presence of these three insignificant beings, far more interested in checking underneath the several rocks in the area. Perhaps fixated on the mega's movement, Dagger might get a sense for the pattern:

A rock would be lifted. The Cherubimon would look underneath, then scratch a nail underneath the boulder, before simply tossing it aside, an occasional disappointed growl escaping his throat.

But perhaps Dagger wouldn't notice - perhaps he'd only be concerned with the fact that the Cherubimon had moved closer and closer in this systematic fashion, until he finally neared the rocks that made up their cover. Practically on top of them at this point, the Cherubimon would reach, lifting up a rock that rested just aside from the crag they were resting on. Dagger's blade would glint below as that threat was given, but the angel seemed ignorant of it - in fact, he was more interested at picking at the rock.

"Oh?" A noise of realization poked through, as he finally found 'something' - the tip of his finger loosened what looked to be a red piece of stone from the rock. He smiled, setting it aside, before looking at Dagger - a Digimon who held the same sheen, at least, as the stone. Only seeing the blade at first, he knelt down, face-to-face with the rookie, tilting his head.

"Back?" His voice seemed more confused than anything else, as if questioning why these three were here in the first place. That said, if Zubamon jumped the shark...

Despite the difference in power, the Cherubimon didn't seem to know how to handle the mere Zabumon in front of him. The angel, after all, hadn't shown any form of threat to them - and yet here Dagger was, cowering before him as if his life depended on it. Dagger's harsh tone even seemed to cut into the Cherubimon's psyche a bit, the large beast backing up, even if just an inch.

"Why... hurt? I-"

"Oi! Cherry! Quit dragging your feet around!"

Across the rocky crags, a second voice cut in, much more composed than the few words the Cherubimon mustered. Hearing that tone and those words, the Cherubimon's ears stood tall, as he once more stood to his full sight, looking around for the source of that voice. He didn't stay concealed for long: just atop a nearby crag, a brief white 'flurry' emerged on the spot, a single Digimon appearing from its gale (X).

The white-robed sorcerer, half annoyed in his tone, gave a glare to the angel. "We're going to fall behind target again if you keep this up. C'mon, everyone else has already... hm?"

What was that? The Cherubimon gave a point downwards, towards the crevasse - where Dagger stood, above what looked like a gravely injured tamer and another partner.

"Tch. You and your habit of finding 'dead birds'..." The Sorcermon growled, kneeling over the edge as he looked down at the three. "You. Shiny one. What are you three doing in our quarry?"

Tch - was that what this was about? Some random survivors of a Dark Area attack? Despite the Cherubimon's personality, Sorcermon was not the type to take every single injured passerby in - or any at all, really. This was just the harsh reality of this place: you either thrived here, or you died here. It would have been very easy for the wizard to simply pass them by and leave them to the Saberdramon that flocked by.

That was, it would have been easy - if it hadn't been for that last sentence. Something in return? "Hm?" Now the champion was curious: setting his staff aside, he stepped closer, kneeling down in front of Dagger. He would reach forward and, if allowed, simply press his pointer finger and his thumb against both ends of Zubamon's blade, as if testing out the surface. Was he appraising it, somehow?

"Very well." Before Zubamon could even argue, the Sorcerermon would give a snap. 'Cherry' immediately followed the unheard command, leaning closer, carefully scooping up both Cassandra and the Kotemon in his arms. "But I don't take these kinds of contracts lightly - I don't have the time or resources to spare on empty investments, Zubamon."

His point? "You'll be working for me, in my quarry, until I'm satisfied your debt is paid. Until then, my word is law - and Cherry will be keeping an eye on you, even when you don't think he's looking. If all that's clear, then follow along."

Hm. This Zubamon's not going to be effective at all until he's sure these two are safe, huh? The Sorcermon was perceptive of that much - but considering the rookie's words up to this point, the wizard was sure he'd be able to make some use out of this metallic dragon. At the very least, he obediently followed along, cutting through a wide stretch of the quarry, in silence. As Cherry held Cassandra and Kotemon close, Sorcermon himself held up his staff, a radiant white aura surrounding the three of them like a spherical barrier.

"Presence Erasure," the Sorcerermon calmly explained. "We're all but invisible to the outside world out here." It was the same way the Sorcerermon seemed to appear out of thin air before - but most likely, the Zubamon wasn't all too interested. Eventually, though, the three would reach their destination, a good three miles from the impromptu hideout. Perhaps to the dragon's surprise, between two rather fiendish looking cliffs, the trio found themselves at a rather ornate, stone door - one without a handle or a means to open.

A single tap of the Sorcermon's staff against the surface would cause the stone to 'vanish', a simple translucent version of itself hanging in midair. "Take your brother in." Cherry would wait outside, as Sorcermon carried Cassandra and Dagger handled Cloak. Once inside, the door behind them would once more take shape, and Dagger would find himself standing in what seemed to be a respectable estate. Despite the lighting being a bit dim, the rooms were well furnished with a dark hardwood. Each room was lit with a small blue light, emanating from floating crystals held in lanterns that either hung from the walls or the ceiling.

The wizard led them upstairs and to the left, to a vacant room. He indicated for Cloak to be laid on a couch, as he carefully placed Cassandra atop the thin sheets of a soft bed. "The Kotemon's injuries seem minor at a glance. I'm more concerned about her..."

Setting that staff aside, the Sorcermon started with the careful work of loosening those bandages - at the very least, they needed replaced. But just how bad was the wound beneath?

Clearly, 'wasn't good' was an understatement. Even as Zubamon spoke and as the bandages were pulled away, the Sorcermon was just starting to get a feel for the damage: a heavy burn, as if from a powerful flame, covered over half her body, and a heavy arrangement of bruises stained her chest and likely trailed down beneath the swimsuit that covered her. Even if these burns looked somewhat old - save for that rather grotesque appearance surrounding her left arm - Cassandra was clearly on wits end.

Just how long could she drag on like this, without assistance? The wizard guessed a day - three, if he was being generous - but it wasn't as if he was at all skilled with medical abilities. In truth, there was little the Sorcermon could offer that would do much better than the Zubamon's haphazard bandaging job in an effort to cure her condition. But, then again, that was never his intent: motioning for the Zubamon to step back, the sorcerer raised his staff, and directed his open palm towards the tamer:

"Crystal Stasis!"

At the command of that spell, Cassandra would find herself lifted just a foot over the bed - and, subsequently, the Zubamon would then see her tamer surrounded by a crystal prism. Any sign of her movement would seem to stop, holding her as if suspended in time. "I am not going to pretend that I have the ability to treat her," the Sorcermon started, "But I have contact with those far more capable than myself in this matter. Right now, you can consider your tamer 'frozen in time', so to speak."

The ice sorcerer gave a nod to the Zubamon. "So long as you keep your end of the bargain, there will be no issues here." The Sorcerermon didn't want to spell it out for Dagger, but it was quite clear:

Cassandra's life was in the palm of his hand.

"Rest up. You and your brother can use the room next to this one." The Digimon tipped his hat, making his way to exit the room. "Your work begins tomorrow, Twenty."

Cloak and Dagger... wasn't that a little bit on the nose?

Though nights in the Dark Area were generally a tense (and at times, horrifying) affair, Dagger would find the night blissfully uneventful. The rooms were insulated enough that the sounds of the beasts outside failed to peek in, and the howling, dry winds of the sky outside meant nothing inside Sorcermon's well-kept residence. Sleep might not have come easily to Dagger, but if it didn't, it wasn't a fault of the room itself.

If only that peace could be maintained. At what would have been an early hour in the morning, the Zubamon would be graced with the loud sound of a knock at the door, the Sorcermon's voice echoing out a moment later: "Dagger, its time to get up. Downstairs, in five minutes." Right after those words were given, the dragon would hear the sorcerer's footsteps echoing off on the hardwood beneath him. He expected a prompt response, but didn't expect Dagger to disappoint him.

Not considering the circumstances, anyway. When the Zubamon would make his way downstairs, he'd be able to follow a light to the kitchen - and, as if it were routine, Dagger would already find his breakfast prepared:

Two pieces with dry toast, lightly glazed with butter. A glass of sour-looking fruit juice, something akin to a grapefruit. A small helping of bitter ironroot, its red color peering through the otherwise dark bark. And, breaking the theme, a small pastry with a faint vanilla scent to it. This meal had the feel that it had been prepared with the careful thought of rationing in mind; hanging from the side of the chair, Dagger would find a fresh canteen, filled to the cap with water.

"Once you are done here, come to the main hall. I will be explaining your task in detail. I will tend to Cloak when he awakes." With that, the wizard gave a nod, and stepped off into the castle.