Old IC Thread [Taming The Flame]

[The Lady Kitsunerisu]

Zevran knocked her head back and took a big swig of her drink before answering.


"The pup that you saw in my room is the reason. I saved him from slavers just two days ago," she put a paw to her side again, wincing. "The slavers were long gone, probably exiting out through the other side of the mine. I had gotten there at exactly the right time to save him. They had released two dire bears on their own workers. I think one of the men saw that I had the child and recognized him as one of their slaves. I had to kill two dire bears to save this child, I have been caring for him the best I can the last two days. I will not allow them to hurt him. No child deserves to go through that," a tear fell from her eye, which she angrily wiped away.


"I am afraid that I may have to leave Kwovat to keep him safe."


@LupusDeUmbra

 

[Naxtaroth]

Sheut looked at the woman. He had originally thought she was the boy's mother, but he could still see she had the motherly instincts about her. He took a drink of water before responding.


"I uh, I did not know he wasn't yours. You do, however, seem to care for him very much. Not many would risk their lives like that. I am not helping you, but the ships may or may not be leaving tomorrow morning. They are the big imperial looking ones with the Sharian Empire seal on the flags. Security is tight, but no one checks the boxes."





Sheut winked at the woman and took another gulp of water. He rose from the bar and started to make his way upstairs before turning around.


"I will not help you here, I will not help you now, but if our paths cross in Shan'Manrir... I might be able to do something then. You have the information, do with it what you must."


Sheut returned to his room and and went to bed. Thoughts of the woman and the child filled his dreams and when he awoke in the morning, he was extremely groggy. He got up and put on his black robes before heading out with his weapons and Apophis. He found himself subconsciously scanning the docks for the woman and child. He shook his head and told himself she was not his problem right now. Why did his mind constantly wander to her? What was so important about her?


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@The Lady Kitsunerisu


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[The Lady Kitsunerisu]

Zevran was struck by all the information that the Jackal, Shuet, had given her. She knew that if she was caught trying to sneak onto the ship...it could have dire consequences. She didn't want to think about what would happen to her and the child if they were caught. She wasn't born in Shan'Manrir, and nearly all the information that she knew about it was from rumors, and many of those rumors were not the most...friendly towards them. There were rumors of stowaways never being seen again because they had been ripped apart by the crew and then tossed into the sea. There were also rumors that if a stowaway was caught on the ship they were forced to become a part of the army and would normally die in their first fight. It was a frightening thought, but she had to hope that her people were respectable, and if they did do that, well she would just have to hope that they would take care of the fox pup for her and just punish her.


She sat there, at the lone table in the corner of the inn, for what seemed like ages. People came and went, some looking at her with fear, others looking at her with wonder, and a small amount of them looked at her like they were wanting to use her as a prize pet in a show. Just as Zevran had worried, those men were still looking for her pup. She didn't have the funds to buy voyage on a ship, and she couldn't hope to gather enough coin before those men found out exactly where she and her pup was. She had no choice but to stowaway on the ship that Shuet had come with. She let out a sigh, finishing her drink. She got up with difficulty, holding her side. She then went up the stairs, hissing in pain all the way. She passed by many rooms, including the Jackal's, before reaching her own. She unlocked the door and went inside. Her clawed feet clacked on the hard wood floor. She looked into the room and found the child on the ground, whimpering in fear. Then she heard the creaking of floorboards to her left. She tumbled forward, rising to her feet and turning to come face to face with three men in black robes.


She let out a low growl, positioning herself in front of her child. She didn't want to bring the attention of the rest of the inn so she just let out the softest of growls, her fur standing on edge. Her upper lip curled up, revealing sharp fangs that looked ready to tear flesh from bone. The men looked taken aback, one of them looked like he was ready to faint, obviously a newbie.


"Go away, and I may let you live," she snarled. What proceeded after that seemed to go in slow motion. All three men began to attack at the same time. One appeared to be using magick, another brought out a knife, and the last one brought out a very large sword. They all charged. The first to come was the magic user, which was the rookie. He had made the mistake of rushing forward when you are the magick user. She shoved her hand out and slashed the magick users throat, her claws going through it like butter. He screamed silently as he fell to the floor and twitched on the floor. The next one to come after her was the one with the huge sword. There was a shock of red hair under his hood. Zevran had to push the pup back and move to the side to keep the sword from hitting her. The second she hit the floor she charged the man, his sword making him slow. She hit him from the side, making him drop his sword. She wrapped her fangs around his neck and bit down. These men were fools to mess with a Sharian that was twice their size. Especially when she was protecting a young one.


She felt the sharp sting of something stabbing into her back and she let out a yelp, falling to the side and closing the door by accident. She growled in pain, trying to get the dagger out of her back, but it was in a place that she couldn't reach. She was about to get back up when she saw a most marvelous sight. The pup rushed towards the man and jumped onto his back. His claws dug in wherever they could. His teeth went straight for the back of the man's neck. He bit down, growling viciously. The man let out a yell of pain, falling backwards to get the pup off of him. Zevran's thoughts went to the fight between her and the dire bear, and she saw Jenesari use the exact same tactic she had used when the bear had been about to fall backwards onto her. He jumped from the man, falling in an ungraceful manner. He was about to charge at the man again but Zevran let out a warning growl, keeping the pup from doing what he wanted. Blood dripped from his muzzle, staining the pretty white fur there. Zevran got up, growling in pain, and put her foot to the man's head. She snarled down at him.


"You will not have this child," she growled venomously. The man's eyes widened as she brought up her foot and slammed her foot down on his skull, putting all of her weight behind it. It caved in like a watermelon. Crimson blood oozed from all three corpses. She swiftly went about the room and put down a very special herb that would mask the scent of blood from the rest of the inn, especially Shuet. Once the herbs were placed she turned to the young one. She saw that he was staring at his hands that had blood upon them. He looked horrified at what he had done, which was probably save her from grave injury.


"Jenesari, you did what you had to, and I am proud of you," she put a clawed hand on his head comfortingly before turning and kneeling. "Would you do me a favor and take this out of my back?" He did as she asked and took it out, dropping it when he heard the whine of pain she uttered. Blood began to stain the beautiful fur upon her back, but it was a minor wound and would heal on its own.


"Why were those bad men trying to kill us?" Jenesari asked, his voice shaky with fear.


Zevran turned to him, "Because I rescued you, and now they want to undo what I have done before you can tell an authority figure what they have done," Zevran paused, getting up and began to pack what things they would need into two packs. One that she could carry, and one that Jenesari could carry. Then she strapped every single coin that she had to a belt that cinched around her waist.


"Are we leaving?" He asked.


"Yes, we are leaving, and most likely never coming back to this particular city," she went over the the window and opened it, looking down tot see that it was a fairly short drop to the bottom. She knelt down, looking back at Jenesari. "Come."


Jenesari got onto her back and she jumped out the window, landing on the ground with a loud thump. Then she was off, running through the streets, ignoring her wounds because adrenaline had become very strong in her system. She ran all the way to the docks. She quickly searched for the ships with the Sharian seal on them. They weren't very hard to find, and she quickly emptied half a crate of dried meat, tossing it to a pack of dogs that were wandering the docks because of the scent of food in the crates. They quickly rid the dock of any sign that the crate had been emptied just a bit. Zevran and Jenesari both went into the crate. She had packed a few canteens of water, and they had food in the crate with them. This was going to be a long journey.


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@LupusDeUmbra


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[Heartsteal]

Minke, arriving in the port city of Uskortai

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As the sun rose, golden orange across the horizon, glinting off of the frozen grass like millions of tiny mirrors, the silence of night was finally broken, the sound of horses waking, and that of three men groaning their sleep away, and one woman, snorting quietly as she startled into wakefulness. The scene was picturesque, sun peaking out from behind the horizon, all the ground as far as the eye could see seemed as though an ocean of gold as frost caught the light.


"Argh, 'is's th' worst sorta mornin," Minke griped, struggling to pull a knot from her hair which was atypically down. While normally kept tight in a bun at the back of her head, the crimson tresses reached easily past her shoulders, which Driskoll found himself staring at, seeing as the guardswoman's back was to him.


"What sort issat?" a second voice rumbled groggily, followed shortly after by a loud thump, and barked curse. Alvar rose from beside the wagon, having slept sitting in the grass on the roadside, leaning his back against the carriage.


"Th' sober sort," Minke replied, busying both her hands with tying the kinked mess of red hair atop her head again, though she turned as she did so, noticing that the lordling had been staring at her.


"Oi, what're ye lookin' fer, a bruisin!?" she exclaimed, letting go of her hair in favour of bringing both fists before her, rising to stand in the bed of the carriage, which made the poor lad scramble back away from her, and right out of the carriage, over the cab's lip and into the grass.


While the morning air was still chill enough to make breaths mist before their owners, it was a rather nice day for Valdmaar, meaning that both Mjulnir didn't bother with thick fur coats like their traveling companions did, though now that they were on the road, they wore their leathers. While in Bolos, Minke never wore anything special, just a woolen vest and light shirt beneath in the warmer months, with a sturdy pair of trousers and boots beneath.


Alvar on the other hand usually didn't wear anything more than boots, trousers and a belt which bore Bolos' insignia, leaving the rest of his skin bare, showing his tattoos that marked him as different from the other lowlanders.


Today though, while both soldiers wore their studded leather gear, and bore arms openly, the Dylenor they traveled with wore thick fur coats and scarves, keeping their hoods up at almost all times. It made distinguishing the pair pretty difficult at a glance, though Driskoll wore his little toothpick of a sword on his coat's belt, the only identifying mark on either.


"Aw look, 'e's scared!" Minke laughed aloud, seeming for all the world indifferent to her injuries, still not quite sealed.


"Y'see 'at Alvar? Th' lady fell right out o' th' carriage!" she continued, never ceasing to be amused by the lordling's skittishness.


"Ah sawsit, now apologize, and we'll git goin," the other guard responded with a sigh, shrugging an apology to the driver, who was making certain the horses were prepared to resume their journey.


"Indeed, apologize you brutish wench!" the lordling shouted, voice cracking, as he pulled himself up off the hard ground, vainly trying to brush the dirt from his coat, and failing horribly at appearing dignified.


"First ye should tell me why ye were starin' at me," Minke replied in jest, impish smile stretching across her face.


"Y'gots a crush do ye? Wanna live onna wild side?" she went on, winking, and drawing precisely the response she'd wanted, a flustered and panicking lordling.


"I-it was- I was just..." Driskoll said, trailing off as he started to fiddle with the wooden tabs of his hood.


"Starin' at me arse?" she asked before he managed to find something else to say, though unfortunately she pushed a little too far, which made the lad pull himself together and ruin her fun.


"Your hair actually, I was curious as to why you had such red hair, no others in Bolos did, nor has any other Mjulnir I've met thus far. You're an oddity in more ways than your temper," the lordling explained, actually sounding like his usual, self-important manner.


"Tis a lowland trait, mostly th' forests south of Hjatland. We go much further North o' Uskortai o'er dere, an' ye'll see plenty more o' folk like Minke, up 'til we approach th' mountain anyways," Alvar explained, folding the blanket he'd slept under, and tossing it into the back of the carriage as he did so.


"And yourfshelf?" the driver asked, motioning to Alvar while he climbed back onto the carriage, taking up the reigns.


"Yes, I'm also quite curious now that you mention," Driskoll added, also climbing clumsily back up to his seat.


"Ah'm o' one o' th' foothill tribes, not a lowland clan. Ah'm sure ye's 'eard o' th' berserkers, s'what erryone else knows us fer," Alver answered, sounding somewhat upset with the response while he made it.


"An' th' cool-arse knots," Minke chimed in, weakly trying to cheer her watchpartner up while she climbed down from the back of the carriage, readying herself to take up walking alongside it for the day.


"An' th' story-knots," Alvar added, unimpressed by the red-haired woman's attempt to improve his mood.


"I'll admit that I assumed you were beastly at first glance, but you're so civil, I'd never have taken you for that sort," Driskoll said, intending compliment, though instead he shared a mildly racist comment.


"An' what sort issat precisely?" the bearded man asked, bunching his shoulders slightly with frustration, though he quickly calmed himself, and a good thing, because the look in Driskoll's eyes said he was about to need a change of britches.


"Sorry, touchy subject," he continued, explaining his anger, though neither Dylenor said anything else afterward.


The next several hours went by in relative silence, Alvar content, the foreigners too nervous to speak, and Minke without anything witty enough to say, though not for lack of trying. As the group finally reached earshot of Uskortai's gate, the tension eased. The gates were open, a necessity for such a busy place, and carts, carriages, wagons, and even folk just on foot or horseback came trickling in, and out of the gate.


On the battlements above, a familiar face peaked out, and recognized Minke and Alvar, going so far as to call out to them.


"Ey, Alvar, Mini!" the voice called, one of their fellow trainees, and while it took a little while for Alvar to recognize the guardsman, for Minke it was immediate.


"Oi, Pigsticker, yer still 'ere!?" she shouted up the wall, stopping at the roadside so that she could bellow a conversation back and forth with her old drinking buddy.


"Ah thought ye'd 'ave gone 'ome a long time ago! Th' missus keepin' ye 'round!?" the short woman called, failing to keep herself from laughing at the joke.


"Why's he called Pigsticker?" Driskoll asked, though the look of revulsion at the question on Alvar's face, clear through his beard, made him retract the question, deciding it may be best for him not to know the answer.


"Is real name's Topi, jes' call 'im 'at if ye dun' want te know why 'ey call 'im Pigsticker," Alvar explained, shaking his head in an attempt to push the memory from his mind.


"Ya I'm still 'round, after all, pay's better here!" Topi shouted down, then turned around, disappearing from sight. Some time after, when their carriage finally passed through the gates, the guardsman emerged from the gatehouse with a smile from ear to ear. Up close, Driskoll had his guesses as to why Topi was called Pigsticker, though it didn't seem enough to make Alvar cringe the way he had. With an upturned nose that made anyone looking him in the face stare up his nose, and with heavy brows that drooped over his eyes, Topi didn't look terribly disimilar to a pig, though the thickness of his jaw and jowls also reminded one of a wild boar. Topi was a stout man, wider than Alvar, but only halfway between his and Minke's height, not terribly distant from the Dylenors' heights.


Pigsticker came rushing through the door, and slammed into Alvar with a crash, lifting the giant of a man clear from the ground with ease before spinning around in a couple circles, laughing like a fool.


"Alvar, ye've gotten skinny, not drinkin' enough I say!" Topi shouted needlessly, chortling throughout.


"Nah, ah think ye've jes' gotten fatter, iffats possible," Alvar replied sarcastically, putting a palm on his friends forehead to create some space. Topi took the hint and dropped Alvar, who was sure to check the back of his belt for the coinpurse he kept tied there.


"Ye big tub o' lard! Ah've missed ye!" Minke shouted, sounding a few years younger than she was, like they were still trainees just three years ago.


"Ain't nobody te drink wit' in Bolos, been drivin' me mad!" she said, laughing as she came around the back of the carriage to catch up with an old friend. Meanwhile, the Dylenor pair tried to keep quiet, and out of the way, not sure if they should be nervous or entertained, though Driskoll's patience was beginning to wear thin.


"Well, I bet ye've been drinkin' yerself silly anyways; tiny little thin' ye are I don't know where ye put it!" he joked, laughing as he moved to scoop Minke up much the way he had Alvar, obviously having forgotten at least a little of how she was.


In his rush to scoop up his old friend in a hug, Topi didn't notice immediately when she jumped that it wasn't into his arms. When the boots collided with his face however, he remembered in a flash.


Put on his bottom in the dirt, Topi chuckled while he rose again to his feet.


"Almost forgot about that," he said, shaking his head as he noticed the blood beginning to run from his nostrils. While Minke got her feet under her again, starting to rise, he kicked her right back, squarely in the chest while she stood, launching her backward into the dirt with a cough.


"Ugh, why dere, y'know better'n te kick a lady dere," Minke coughed, though the smile on her features didn't match the words she'd spoken.


When Driskoll was about to speak up, horrified as he was by the exchange, Topi said something first.


"Yer no lady, ye've said so yerself!" he said, chuckling again as he offered her a hand up.


"Enough!" the young lord shouted, drawing everyone's attention.


"I appreciate your little chance reunion, and I've given you more than enough time and understanding, there's still a job to be done, so say goodbye, and we can be off!" he said, red as beets in the face, though none could tell behind the scarf he wore, which somehow didn't seem to muffle his words much.


"Righ' sorry, the lady wants te sleep at an inn tenight. We could make more progress tedae, but 'e wants a bed errywhere we go," Minke explained to her old friend, understanding the need to get going, though still not happy about it.


"Well, sorry 'bout that m'lady, te repay the favour, howsabout ye head down te the Squeaky Wheel. Best Inn in Uskortai, no bedbugs I promise, and the best drinks South of Hjatland. Tell 'em I sent ye, and they'll give ye a discount," Topi said, all business, though apparently Driskoll's voice wasn't enough hint for him as he started making eyes at the lordling, and hilarious as it would've been for him to know that, Driskoll just motioned that they get going, giving no thanks.

 

[Ayl]

The sky was filled with the dark smoke which was rising up from the burned down pirate port city. Admiral Sebastian was now on land, watching as his soldiers were scouring the wrecks of the various torn down constructions, in search for any survivors. The battle was relatively short lived. After all, none could really match the Dylenor Navy, especially under the command of an Admiral himself.


The port was located in a bay, on the northern Terynna island. After locating its position, Sebastian gave the order for 3 ships to guard the end, while the "Smoking Seagull" and the "Saberclaw", the two ships from the Lion Fleet, commenced their assault on the port, at Sebastian's direct order. It was glorious. The pirates must have had some lookout, for as soon as the Navy fleets entered the bay, a loud alarm went off all over the small settlement. Pirates starting storming out of the taverns and bording their ships.


A rather badly thought move, as the ships were the first targets of the bombardment from the Lion ships. The two vessels lived up to their fleet's reputation, as the roar of the 240 cannons shooting all at once was indeed the perfect resemblance of a lion's raging angry roar. The pier was hosting over 26 ships which belonged to the pirates, from which only 10 were left standing after the first assault. Those ships that were still standing, although having sustained some damages themselves, broke out from the harbor and proceeded to attack the Wolf Fleet ships that formed the vanguard of the squadron of vessels.


Seeing the approaching band of pirates, Sebastian smirked from the front deck of the "Edged Fang". "Alright, this is were we separate men from children! Take up your swords, man the cannons, steel your hearts! Onward, for the Asralshar Kingdom!" the Admiral shouted. "Prepare for flanking maneuvers! Go around the bastards and give them a taste of our Navy!" the First Mate followed up.


A general "HURRAH!" exploded from the sailors of each ship that could hear the first round of orders. The tasks were handed down from captain to captain, and soon the initial formation broke up, each frigate circling around the pirates, closing them in. What followed next, was a massacre. The Wolf Fleet had caught the pirates in the noose, boarding ship by ship, killing each filthy pirate they would encounter. At the end, the rough number of cassualties was almost insignificant. What remained of the ships were burned down, the Dylenors watching them sink to the bottom of the golf. All this time, a general panic swept the shore of the city, as the Lion ships kept on shooting their cannoballs, wrecking havoc.


Sebastian finally gave the order for the ships to cease fire, once all the Wolf Fleet assembled together. "Take us to the land." the Admiral said to the wheel handler. Soon, their boots hit the smoldering ground, watching the rather large craters left behind by the earlier shelling. Sebastian walked among the ruins, before barking yet another order at his men. "Search the port, leave no stone unturned. If you find survivors, you know what to do. No prisoners."


"Sir, yes sir!" the sailors cried out, and began scavenging.


Meanwhile, First-Mate Mallcows approached his captain and asked softly. "Permission to speak freely, sir!"


"Permission granted!" Sebastian replied.


"Aren't we being a little bit unreasonable here? Afterall, there could be innocent villagers in this place, yet we raised it like it was hell itself."


"Negative, Mallcows, we have our orders. No one walks out of here alive, but us!"


"But, Admiral, surely we-"


"Lieutenant, surely I mustn't remind you the stakes of this mission. These scum have been raiding Terago Coalition ships for the past few months. Who else could the Sharians contract to take them out, but the Asralshar Navy, us. If we leave but one of them, they may want to take revenge. And they won't take it on us, they will take it on the Sharians. Whose fault will that be if they succeed?". At this point, Sebastian turned around to face the First-Mate. "We cannot allow the reputation of the Dylenors to be tarnished. Now, you have your orders. Carry them out!".


"Yes, sir. My apologises. I will get right to it.". With that being said, the conversation was over, as Mallcows made his way to help his fellow compatriots.


Sebastian sighed heavily. That reasoning early was a harsh one, he knew that much, but necessary. It was his duty as an Admiral to uphold the principles of the Dylenors. Mistake, was not an option, ever.


After a few hours, the search finally ceased. They were no reports of any survivors, which made Sebastian feel at ease, although still feeling guilty for his mentality. "A fine job, everybody. Now, all hands on deck. We sail for Shan'Manrir, to report our success! We will be stopping there for a few days, so feel free to lavish yourselves for the time being. You've earned it. As for your fallen comrades, weep no tears for their passing, for they have died as every Dylenor should. Fighting for his country, among his brothers-in-arms. May Ridsk guide their footsteps in whatever journey they shall venture on in the afterlife!"


A moment of silence was held in the memory of those lost in battle. After lifting his head up, Sebastian gave his final order for the day, before embarking on the "Edged Fang". "To Shan'Manrir!"

 

[Naxtaroth]

The ship pulled into the docks along the river. The harbor was filled with activity today as the various cargo ships returned from their destinations. Sheut went below deck to inspect all the crates. He had lied when he said no one checked them, but he signed up for the duty himself. He walked along the aisles of crates, attempting to see if the woman and child were in them. He searched above and below crates to see if they were hiding on the ship. Some of the crates of food were rotted and he marked them.


Finally he got to a crate and his canine ears picked up the slight sound of a heartbeat. No... Two. He leaned down next to the crate and knocked on the outside, hoping he did not startle the woman. He whispered.


"I see that you decided to use the information I got you. Listen, they throw the crates of rotted food into the river for the carnivorous fish. I am marking this crate as rotted and loosening the lid so that you won't drown. I hope you can swim. The city is about 3 miles up the main road. I will leave some money in a hole that I will mark with a large, red- tinted rock. Use the money to pay for a carriage ride to the city. Once there, search for Red Crescent Tavern. I'll be waiting there at sundown."





Sheut did as he said he would and got off the ship. He walked over to the shore, dug a hole, placed the money, and covered it up. He found a rock and placed it on top. He admired it from afar, smirking at his handiwork. To anyone else, it would look like a random rock, but the woman would know about the secret underneath. Sheut headed back to the docks and joined the military escort back to Shan'Manrir.

****jump to sundown****




​

Sheut sat in the tavern, a plate in front of him. On the plate were 5 separate skewers, each stuck through chunks of steak and slices of tomato, onion, and green peppers. The dish was not a cheap one, but he figured he owed himself a nice treat. His financial responsibility allowed him to splurge like this every so often, although he did worry about all the money he was spending on the woman and child. He could not let his own reserve run dry, yet he also couldn't just leave them to the slavers. He sat in a position that he could watch the door, seeing all who entered and exited.


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@The Lady Kitsunerisu


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[The Lady Kitsunerisu]

The ride had been long one. The small one had been growing gradually weaker. Physical exercise couldn't be achieved in this box. The only contact they had with another person was when Shuet had found their box and given them information on what they could do. She didn't dare say a thing, and she had held her little one's snout so that he didn't say anything. She silently thanked him, knowing that their journey was nearly done. Shan'Manrir was over the horizon. He said that they should get a carriage, but she was sure that she and Jenesari would have no interest in getting a carriage. then again they may not let in just any riff-raff. So she decided that they would run around on a side road for a little while, then find the rock and take the money. She had to hold Jenesari tightly as the box was jostled and moved. They stayed quiet until they were thrown over the side. They were quickly submerged into the water, the boat journeying the last bit of the way to the shore.


As water began to seep into the crate Jenesari began to panic.


"No, no, no, no, NO!" He barked out, trying to claw his way out. "The air is running out. Out! I need out!" He kept howling. Zevran thanked her lucky stars that they were submerged in water and would not be heard by the shipmates and ultimately caught.


"Jenesari, be calm. We are going to get out of the box, but you have to hold in your breath," she calmly said, panicking herself just a tad bit. She had never been in a situation like this, and she hoped that they both could swim, otherwise the Jackal would never see them enter that inn. She grabbed Jenesari by the arm and pulled him to her, kissing the top of his shaking head. "Hold you breath," she said softly before driving her fist into the top of the crate, dislodging the loosened boards. The second the water hit her she had to suppress the urge to scream out in pain. The seawater felt like poison against her still healing wound.


She felt Jenesari's legs begin to move in instinct and she let him go. Her eyes were closed, so she couldn't see what he was doing, but she began to move her legs and arms, hoping to the Ancients that she was swimming up. After what seemed like forever her head broke through to the forest, her mouth opening to bring in a lungful of air, only to have a wave hit her mouth and make her inhale water. She went into coughing fits as she opened her eyes, feeling the sting of the salt in the water and looked for Jenesari. She didn't see his beautiful red fur anywhere. He wasn't above the water. Her heart began to sink.


"Jenesari?" She called out, twisting around in the water to try and see him. "Sari!" She cried out. She looked behind her and let out a yelp of fear as a large wave crashed into her. She went back under, her limbs fumbling, her air running thin. Her head breached the surface, she was able to breathe, only to have another wave crash down onto her. Her mind began to race, wondering if she had ruined her life and the life of the young one that she had found. Her head breached, she breathed, then another wave crashed down atop of her. She couldn't tell what was up and what was down. She felt scattered. She was beginning to lose consciousness. She began to relax her body, letting the waves do with her what they will. She was growing tired very quickly. Her brain wasn't getting enough oxygen, her limbs were growing weak, then her head breached the surface again and she heard someone call her name. She weakly opened her eyes to see Jenesari standing on the shoreline, his fur soaked from being in the sea, and he was shivering.


"Zevran! I'm here! Come to the shore!" He barked to her. Determination energized her limbs and she began kicking her legs, using her arms to pull herself forward. She swam as quickly as she could, trying to escape from the treacherous water. Then another wave crashed down onto her. She tried to keep swimming but she was closes enough to the shore where she could reach the bottom when she was tumbled by a wave and her head hit a rock, completely knocking her out. When she next rose to the surface she was dragged to the shore by Jenesari.

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Switching POV's.


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​

"Zevran?" Jenesari questioned, putting a paw to Zevran's chest. "Z-Zevran?" He shook his body, getting some moisture off of him. He watched her chest and saw that it wasn't moving. She wasn't breathing. Jenesari's eyes brimmed with tears. "Why aren't you breathing?" He cried out, putting a grip into her fur. "Breathe!" He cried, slamming his fist down onto her chest in anger. Still she didn't breathe. "Zevran! Wake up!" He slammed his fist down on her chest again in anger. He rose his fist again for another smack, but lowered it. His anger seeping away from him, leaving only sorrow. "Zevran..." he slowly fell forward, slamming his body down onto her. He had been planning on hugging her and crying into her gold coloured fur, but she began to hack and cough, water spraying from her mouth as her lungs emptied of water. Jenesari tumbled back, away from the convulsing woman. He stood there for a whole minute as she coughed out water and sucked in air, filling her body with life once again.


He saw Zevran lay her head back on the rocky sand, her breathing labored, and a grimace of pain upon her face.


"Zevran!" He cried in joy as he tumbled over to her, hugging onto her, despite her weak protests that he was hurting her. He was just happy that she was breathing again. Jenesari felt Zevran's arms wrap around him, and just for a few moments he felt like he was being held by his mother again. That memory quickly fell away, however, as the sounds of the sea penetrated his ears. The unfamiliar sound was so foreign to him that nothing seemed familiar any longer.


"Listen to me," he heard Zevran croak, "I need you to find the rock. Get the money, get to the carriage driver, and get him to come and help me," she closed her eyes, her upper lip curling as pain enveloped her. "Hurry," she said. He quickly went and looked at every red rock that was on the beach, only taking ten minutes to find the one with a pouchful of coins in it, then he ran up to the carriage driver and told him of what was happening and handed him the pouch of coins. The Sharian he had found that was driving the Carriage had very odd fangs that slid past his lower jaw. They seemed unshapely, but they fit his face perfectly.


"Show me where she is," he told Jenesari. He was an older gentleman, but his strength was evident, and he was at least seven and a half foot. They quickly went to Zevran who was passed out on the sand. He quickly picked her up and brought her back to the carriage. "Where do you two need to go?" He asked Jenesari, worry in his gaze as he stared at Zevran.


"The Red Creshent Tav'n," Jenesari said, horribly mispronouncing everything.


"Do you mean the Red CreSCent TavERn?"


Jenesari nodded and they were off.

Spoiler

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


@LupusDeUmbra


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

[theunderwolf]

"Shan'Manrir!" Algos exclaimed. "Lovely city and.." A paper folded paper glider. hit him in the head. he opened it and read the note a simple request for a library copy of a book being published in Shan'Manrir. "And i can take you!' so screw directions. And ma'am I'm a librarian I need to take care of all patrons equally."

 

[Naxtaroth]

Hours Sheut had sat there. The sun was almost setting and Sheut would only wait an hour after the sky went completely dark. He looked around at all the patrons at the various tables, yet none looked familiar. He had long since finished his meal and was sipping on some water. He saw many mead and ale drinkers, but he was not big on drinking any spirits. He clacked his nails against the tabletop impatiently, Apophis slithering off to find some food.


He left his weapons back in his room at the academy. He remembered how he had went to the general's office and gave the full report. He left out the part about the woman and child, obviously. If anyone found out he'd helped stowaways, he would suffer consequences equal to or more severe than that of the stowaways' punishment. He sat and wondered if he'd done the right thing. How could he just assume that they could swim? He knew if the child died that the woman would kill him. Well, she'd attempt to at the very least.


He closed his eyes and decided to rest. He sprawled out in the booth and laid his he'd back against the wall. Most would figure he was a passed out drunk, which was fine with him. Those who knew him would know better and that is all he cared about.


--------------------


@The Lady Kitsunerisu


--------------------

 

[Jays]

A knock on the door woke Raicus from his deep troubled slumber. Stiffly he sat up off the bed, breathing heavily. His body although half-naked was covered in a sheen of sweat that even then was running in stream. The wind was still howling outside like an angry animal, but the air inside the cottage was feverish hot. The fireplace had burned out, only glowing ember vaguely illuminated the almost empty space. The bear fur was still lying near the door with the meat wrapped in it. A few small breezes snuck through the cracks under door and window, carrying the freezing smell of winter. Frost covered his windows entirely, leaving the figure outside only a dark shape. Raicus wiped his face tiredly, clearing the sweat from his eyes and stood up gingerly. He carefully placed the pendant back in its place on the rack, pulling the hunting knife from under his pillow and tucking it behind his back.


The knock came one more time, more insistant. Raicus approached the door warily, undid the latch and pulled the door open to reveal to cloaked figures. The storm was still going strong outside, the blurred light throwing distorted shadow far behind the black shapes of the two men while the wind threw their cloaks up to billow around the knees, revealing leather boots and markings leading all the way into the village far below. Raicus' sleepiness evaporated at the sight of the men, his alertness heightened, making his heart beat faster and in one single moment the excitement of the hunt returned to his mind. These people were not of the village, their clothes foreign and their postures were of hunters themselves. Yet somehow they were not. That was when he noticed the small bulge at the hip of one. A sword. These men carried swords. No one in the village carried a sword except Raicus himself, and so was any traveler who passed through. A sword would do nothing to help one survive the climate of this region.


So he kept quiet, his mind narrowed into tunnel vision, the cold wind battling against his naked top only increased the sensation. One man at last pulled off his hood to reveal a head of crimson hair that stood out among the shifting sky of gray. He had to shout to be heard over the wind, his words muffled even more by the mask he wore up to his nose, but Raicus knew exactly what he was going to say, and only snatches caught through the noise around was enough for him to understand. "Raicus Cypher, son of Terus Cypher?"


Raicus striked midsentence. He drew his hunting knife in one swift motion, the handle spun onto his hand like a strip of silk, the flat end of it pressed against his palm as the blade penetrated the talking man's through. He could only gurgle a few unintelligible words before falling. The second man was taken by suprise, but only for a fleeting moment, his own blade materialised in his hand with a flash of silver. Raicus left his knife embeded on the first man's throat as he crouched down to retrieve his sword, deliberately leaving himself open. The standing assasin did not let him down, seeing the opening and lunged for it. His leather boot, unsuitable to travel effectively on snow-covered terrain, slipped on the frosty ground, making him stumbled. Raicus caught the half-extended arm in a deadlock, breaking it in three places before turning the place and ran the man through with his own sword.


"Where is he?" He whispered into the dying man's ear, only to be answered by a bloodied grin. "Where is he?" He hisses again, pressing on the wound. The man made a few pained choking sound before whispering back with his last breath. "Shan....Manrir."


Raicus let the limp body fall to the ground next to the first one, his mind blazing with the word. Shan'Manrir. A city on the other side of the realm, a whole different world. It was where he would go to find the answers.

 

[The Lady Kitsunerisu]

The sound of hooves clattering against rock, the feeling of being jostled around, and the sound of sniffing brought Zevran to, her green eyes opening wearily. Light was steadily growing weaker as the sun set beyond the horizon, lighting a different part of the world. Zevran became focused on the small form that was sniffling in a corner of the large carriage. This carriage would be like a house to a normal Dylenor, but to a Sharian it was quite a normal size. The horses that drew Sharian carriages were some of the strongest horses in the entirety of the world. If a Sharian rode in a normal carriage it would have to be a four horse carriage, otherwise the two horses would need a break before too long. Zevran reached her hand out and gently put it on the little lupine's tail, struggling to put a smile on her face. She was weak from blood loss, but it appeared that she wasn't bleeding any longer, which she was thankful for.


"Cheer up, little one, I am okay," she said softly. Jenesari looked behind him to see an awake Zevran. A smile cracked his soaked face and he crawled to her, curling up in the crook of her arm as well as he could. Zevran held onto him tightly, petting his small head. "Shhh little one, I will not leave you, I will never leave you," she began to start coughing, her lungs still irritated by the salt water that had filled them not an hour ago. She didn't hear Jenesari say another thing, in fact he went rather calm and quiet, which drew her to the conclusion that he was finally resting. He had probably been exhausted from the swim, from finding the coin, and panicking. She was touched by this small lupine's concern for her. He saved her from certain doom, and she was beyond thankful to him for this.


"Are you quite alright, miss?" The older Sharian asked, looking into the hole in the front of the carriage so that he could look in on her.


"I am a bit weak, but I think that I will be okay," she paused a moment, looking into the eyes of the other Sharian, wondering if she had seen him somewhere before.


"That makes me glad, I would hate to have to drive you to the," he paused, looking over at the young one, "well, you know where I am talking about." He turned around, snapping the reigns to make the horses go just a bit quicker down the road. Zevran hoped that he wouldn't ask her any other questions, because she didn't want to tell him just how he got into such a state down at the beach. The rest of the ride went quickly and quietly. Then they finally reached the inn, where they would hopefully find Shuet. Zevran let out a sigh as she gently moved Jenesari so that she could sit upright as well that she could. She had regained some strength, but she was sure that she would have to get help from the kind driver.


The carriage came to a slow stop, the clicking of hooves being replaced with the sounds of loud tavern music, and a town full of people. There was laughter, barkings, the clinks of tankards. She waited until the carriage door was opened, pointed right at the doors of the inn. Bodies were going in and out of it, some were already three sheets to the wind, others were just starting to lose some of their tight inhibitions, and some were just dancing and singing on the small area that had been left without chairs or seats. She wasn't entirely sure what to call that...probably a dance floor would be a suitable name for it.


"Your child told me that this is where you needed to be. Was he correct?" Zevran looked at the sign that hung at the front of the inn and nodded her head, growling in pain as her head began throbbing.


"Yes, this is where I am meeting my friend," she paused, attempting to get out herself, but her injuries made her wobbly and she ended up sitting back down.


"Do you require assistance?"


Zevran nodded her head at him, holding out her arm so that he could grab it to support her. “Jenesari, come,” she said, stirring him from his slumber, then she stood on wobbly legs, moving slowly with the help of the saber toothed Sharian.


“Thank you,” she said softly, coughing a little.


“No thanks are needed, I was glad to help a damsel in distress,” he smiled, winking down at her. Zevran felt a small flush of red colour move over her skin, unable to be seen because of the fur that covered her. She was sure that she had to look like shit, so she couldn't believe that this Sharian was flirting with her. She smiled up at him, weakly, and looked ahead as they pushed through the door. Music came to a climax of noise. Bodies writhing together as they danced to the fast paced music, drunk Sharian's laughing and having a merry time. No one payed attention to them as they came in and stumbled into the inn.


“Where is you friend, miss,?” he asked, scouting around for a face that showed recognition, finding none. Zevran did the same, her gaze going in and out of focus before she finally spotted the napping Sharian in the corner of the Inn. He was lounged out on a booth, a couple of Sharian children staring at him. They were most likely contemplating if they could steal his coin before he woke up and caught them. Zevran let out a bark as they drew closer and the children scattered away with a clicking of nails, and little barks of fear coming from them. That was enough to stir the Jackal from his sleep.


Zevran watched as he rubbed the sleep from his vision, only to have it settle on her.


“Hello Shuet.”


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


@LupusDeUmbra


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

[Fus ro dah]

Oh, hey finally! The edge of the forest was in sight! It felt like they were going to be walking around here for the rest of their lives. Tobiah even let out a cheer, pumping his fists into the air as Quickstep left the treeline. The Sharian reined the stallion to a stop and dismounted, deciding his rump needed a rest from the saddle. He had never been so glad to see the sky, staring at trees for...


How long had they been lost in there?


It didn't matter anymore, now it was time to lay on the soft grass and stretch before it was back into the saddle. He wasn't sure which way to go, but he decided that when he finally reached a road, he'd go right and follow it until he reached a town. The grass was nice and soft on his back and Quickstep wandered over, snuffing the fox curiously and nuzzling him before moving away slightly to graze nearby.

 

[Manoneno1]

After a plentiful breakfast to himself and his horse, they were ready to continue their journey towards beautiful yet economically dry Nir'Amen. The slightly useless trip of his costed a painful arm and a tooth: he just needed to give some herbals to an old customer of his, it didn't even have hurry. But he looked the bright side as he always tried: he didn't have to pay for the wheat, he met his friend and maybe he even will have some time to take a look to Library of Infinity, even the spectrum of books were mostly about magical treatments. The thoughts made him sigh and shake his head: soon or later someone will take his or her chance and do something ominous which will change the world. Well, it will take some time, he reassured himself, oblivious about the incoming which has already begun.


Due the early morning, there was only few passers-by, mostly merchants as well on the heavily used road which lead straight to the gates of Nir'Amen. He didn't pay a lot of attention to them but he was aware that his appearance gathered a lot of stares: usually Duenders use luxury clothes depending on their wealthy: well, he had pretty much literally just a turquose-ish cloth wrapped around him. Duenders admired the natural beauty and, well, he had several piercings and almost black scleras. The last one caught attention the most as it wasn't changeable thing, but he didn't care about the attention. Usually the possible insults were obviously skipped. He had a hard time to stuff his wooden pipe with herbals: it took almost fifteen minutes for his left hand to manage the herbals inside the pipe, but neither his non-verbal language nor his mind showed any signs of frustration, as he was taught to an ultimate patience.


After seventeen minutes he was able to take short and powerful inhales from the pipe and lean back to admire the well cared stone road. He knew how important is to have an impressive and a positive picture of Duenders, as their arrogant behaviour can irritate everyone quickly. For his own good he has been considered as a great friend when compared to an ordinary Duender: you don't hear any implying towards the superiority from his mouth. Some times you hear nothing from his mouth: usually he likes to listen... Well, look.


"Good morning!", he slightly exclaimed at a guard who seemed to be on his shift. The guard didn't seem very happy about his arrival: probably bad night's sleep. However, the glance to his eyes seemed to help the drowsiness. "Oh.. It's the eyes, yes?", he commented the sudden twitch. "Illness", he simply stated. With a few mutters and nods by the guard, the port was open. Everything was safe and sound so far, he knew where to leave his carriage. Now he just had to think how to kill some time before heading to his customer as he came to conclude that he was still sleeping. I should probably check the library now, he figured as he tied his horse to a girder. He did know that his customer was a librarian there but he had no idea when he would be there.


The library as an architecture piece of art wasn't his cup of tea: compared to a briskly spectrum of the city, the building was dark and old. It was a stunning seen, however: you immediately know how much knowledge it contains inside its well-cleaned corridors. After knocking his pipe against his wooden sandals, he entered the library. He had never been almost alone in the library and neither was he now: even the day was early, eager students were gathered in the library to acknowledge the secrets of the magic. Mostly persons who Miderenm didn't appreciate too much, as he saw spellbooks carried by young Duendrian males and females. He wandered the dark hallways for a while: it was almost impossible to know was it day or night inside the buildings except a few long attentively considered windows which beamed sunlight to a few shelves.


Soon he saw a familiar old face, the sight flashing a small smile to his lips. However, he wasn't sure if he had work to do and he didn't want to interrupt him at the work time, but he didn't need to think any longer as their gazes met and they started to approach each other. "Miderenm, friend, I didn't wait you to be this fast in Nir'Amen", he greeted him as he raised a bit his right hand for the greeting, but it was lowered quickly. "What happened?", he asked after the short greeting. "Nothing much, just got into a little.. Fight", he answered, thinking a few seconds how he would describe it: more like abuse but it would just raise questions.., he concluded. "How unfortunate. I, however, doubt you weren't the attacker. You wouldn't hurt a fly", he stated with a soft smile, Miderenm agreeing with a mouth closed smile and a deep, appreciating nod. "I hope I didn't interrupt your work day", he commented with a small sorry tone in his speech already. "Oh, don't be. You have the herbals, yes?", he mused as he turned back towards a drawer, Miderenm agreeing and following him to his desk. "Let me just make sure one thing.. Oh!", he muttered as he opened once again the drawer, pulling out a letter and noticing an interrogative gaze from Miderenm. "I forgot to give this letter to her... How foolish I am", he explained with a sigh. "I can deliver it", he volunteered as he approached him a bit more. "Would you really?", he confirmed with a stable harsh voice. "Without a payment, of course", he added with a casual smile. "How nice of you, thank you. Let us do the business first", he suggested, Miderenm agreeing and then heading out to the caravan with him.


After a quick but good sell they started to think the letter's destiny "Please give this to Mara Ro'khle. She has red long hair and green eyes, I think she is in the Inn or in the library", he told him as he gave it to him. "Say it's an urgent thing and that it's from me."


Miderenm nodded a few times. "No problem at all", he said with a smile before turning away. He walked a few steps but something seemed to come in his mind. "Oh, and does she--", he started, but the man was already gone. Well... I hope she isn't interested about tribes...., he thought as he walked back to the library.


He started to wander in the library, hoping she hasn't walked too far from the entrance, as the library was ernomous. He wandered around for a while when a strange scene catched his attention: a young looking Duender lady was seeming to have a tantrum towarded to a redhaired lady. He spectated the scene for a while: he didn't want to be in the middle of the fight but when the lady started to speak about Shan'Manrir, his short brow raised a bit: he wouldn't mind to give them or her a free ride to Shan'Manrir... As long as she doesn't tantrum out of blue. However, the thoughts were wiped away as he saw a young Duender boy seeming to explain how he can get her there. But to his eyes, the boy seemed a bit too sure about himself. After all, the roads to Shan'Manrir weren't the easiest: it had a lot of roads whitch could be mistaken as a shortcuts.


"Excuse me", he interrupted their group as he thought it was save. "Are you Mara Rok'hle?", he asked from the redhaired woman, spelling slightly wrong her last name.


//only grammar check and colouring left!!//


@The Empress of Ice


@Stickdom @theunderwolf

 

[Naxtaroth]

Sheet opened his eyes and looked up. He sat upright immediately upon seeing the woman.


"I see that you made it in one piece. Please, sit across from me."





Sheut motioned across the table to the empty booth on the other side. He waited for the woman and child to sit down before explaining.





"I have organized for you to stay here for the next two weeks. I've already paid the owner, so don't you dare think about telling me I can't pay for it. Slavers don't venture onto this side of the city, but stay away from the south gate and west gate. Those parts of the city are heavy with black market activity. I am at stationed at the Academy up the road and I will come by every night and make sure you two haven't gotten captured. Do you have any questions?"





The jackal folded his arms. Apophis came slithering back from hunting, a fresh rat in his jaw. He coiled up in front of Sheut, watching the two strangers. As he scanned their faces, he let his eyes wander down the woman's body, taking her in. He noticed the how the loose clothing exposed her midriff. The table cut off his view so his eyes wandered to the side rather than down. He could see the fresh remains of a giant slash across her side and he furrowed his brow. What had happened to her to cause such an injury? Was she attacked on the way here? Did she have the wound when they first met?


He then fully took in the ragged appearance of the boy. Scratches and bruises covered his body. He saw the haunted look in the boy's eyes and he knew the boy had seen death. He knew that something terrible had happened to him. He made a mental note to steal some healing scrolls from the medical ward at the Academy before focusing his gaze back onto the woman.


-------------------------


@The Lady Kitsunerisu


-------------------------

 

[Stickdom]

Sophana had had enough of this. Now there was another person asking after this woman, Mara. She did not seem to mind the attention, either, as she spoke condescendingly to Soph, as if she were still only a child, rather than a young woman herself. She felt like crying, she was so desperate for someone to get her out of here, but she did not think that bursting into tears would do anything but hurt her already wounded pride in front of these others.


This newcomer was a tall and pale Duender, his yellow eyes watching them intently. He appeared travel-worn, a journeyman to be sure, perhaps he could take her to Shan'Manrir. She took a step closer to him, but stayed at a slight distance from the other two. If they were all heading to Shan'Manrir together, she would prefer not to be associated with this Mara or Algos, they felt oppressive and rather seemed to look down on her as an immature individual. If only they knew the crisis she was in, but she dared not tell them, she would surely be thrown into prison or perhaps tortured if anyone knew she had access to any necromantic powers, albeit unknowingly at the time.


She dared not get to close to him, of course, since he apparently had business with this Mara woman, to suddenly interrupt him and demand that he take her to Shan'Manrir with him would undoubtedly bring a refusal. So, she stood by and waited for the opportune moment to bring it to his attention. She had the atlas still in her hand, so she opened her bag and slipped it inside. She turned to the bookshelves behind her and browsed through the spellbooks and leather-bound guides contained there. She flippantly selected a few at random, turning a few pages of each one before adding it to her pile of books and searching through the next. She was trying to appear as casual as possible, with her back turned to the others, though she was keeping a sharp ear on any conversation, with little attention to the books in her hand at all.


(@Manoneno1 @theunderwolf @The Empress of Ice )

 

[Big Whiskey]

Kearg


Hjaltland, Tarlek’s Home


----- Kearg patted his cheek, yep he’d been cut. The stinging sensation told him that as he touched his right cheek and found more blood on his fingers. It wasn’t much, but it was noticeable. He whipped his hands on his cloak and reached--


----- “Hi uncle Kearg!” A small but bright voice shouted. Reva ran up to him and stopped just before reaching him.


----- “Reva! How are you?” He asked kneeling down and spreading his arms out to hug the child.


----- “Oh no, uncle Kearg. I’m not hugging anymore.” She refused. Kearg took a moment and smiled.


----- “Oh? Why’s that?”


----- “Hugging is for kids.”


----- “Haha, I see…” Kearg chuckled, “Well then what do you grownups do?” Reva extended her hand. Kearg smiled and took her hand and gave it a good shake.


----- “AAAAH UNCLE KEEEEEAAAAARG!” Came a yelling little Esra who jumped up and clasped her small arms around Kearg’s neck.


----- “Oh-ho! Haha! ” Kearg wrapped his arms around the small girl then lifted her up holding her at his side as he stood. Tarlek came out soon after Esra did and smiled at the sight of his girls and Kearg.


----- “You shoulda seen her try to get dressed when she heard your voice. Almost forgot her shoes.”


----- “Uncle Kearg!” Esra spoke as she grabbed his chin and turned his face toward her.


----- “What happened to your cheek?” She saw the cut.


----- “Uh…well…” He looked at Tarlek whose expression changed from happy to expectant of disappointment. Kearg was usually quick, but in this moment he could think of nothing to cover his tracks, but he still tried…


----- “I…got…into….a…fight…?” And failed.


----- “Kearg!” Tarlek said sharply.


----- “What?” Kearg tried to play it off as if wasn’t a big deal.


----- “Why don’t you come inside and we’ll take care of that for you?” Tarlek said as he opened the door, he knew Kearg and how he’d get into fights. Half of his disappointment was fake now because he felt like he had to be so Kearg wouldn’t think it was okay, but by now Tarlek was used to it.


----- Inside at the table Kearg and Tarlek sat with drinks in front of them as the girls sat next to Kearg. His cut had been cleaned by Tarlek and now Esra was patting his face with a clean rag, because she wanted to help. Reva sat quietly and pet Andur’mir as he sat behind Kearg silently.


----- “So what brings you out here? Today’s not a training day.” Tarlek’s voice low and powerful.


----- “I’m leaving for Shan’Manrir.”


----- “When?”


----- “Tomorrow at first light.”


----- “No!” Both Reva and Esra shouted. Esra clasped onto Kearg as Reva continued sadly. “Why are you going?”


----- “I need to take an old friend back home so he can be happy.” Kearg responded.


----- “The shop owner, Xhuma’an?” Tarlek asked.


----- “Yeah…he wants to go back to be at home before..ya know.”


----- “I see...” Tarlek sipped his drink. Esra then grabbed Kearg’s face, her two small palms on Kearg’s cheeks forcing him to look at her once more.


----- “No, you can’t go! I won’t let you!” Kearg smiled as he took her hands from his face.


----- “I’m sorry I have to Esra.” Esra let out a small whine and pushed her face into his shoulder.


----- “Well when are you coming back?”


----- “I-uh…” Kearg had yet to think of a return trip. Whether there was to be one or not, he didn’t assume either he just simply hadn’t thought of it yet. As he was now confronted with it he instinctively wanted to respond with, ‘I won’t be gone for too long. I’ll be back soon.’ However as he began he found that he couldn’t say it. Something inside told him that this wasn’t going to be a short trip…something inside him said that he might not even come back at all.


----- “I don’t know Esra…”


----- “Are you going to come back?” Asked Reva?


----- “Of course he’ll be back!” Tarlek could obviously read Kearg and tried to help him. “He wouldn’t leave us alone.” Esra sat down facing away and crossed her arms in anger.


----- “Mom did…”


----- “Esra!” Tarlek snapped.


Kearg took a moment and reached around the small girl and set his large hands over the small Esra.


----- “Hey, listen… I’ll be back. I’ll come see you and your sister.” Despite the overwhelming feeling of doubt in his words Kearg found a way to word it. It wasn’t lying; Kearg had every intention of returning to these girls, no matter how the future scared him. They were, after all, the closest thing he ever thought he would have to having a family of his own. So with that Esra lunged into his chest hugging him.


----- “You promise?” Esra asked distantly. Kearg turned and smiled.


----- “I promise.” Esra then wrapped her own arms around his torso as tears began to swell in her eyes. Kearg simply smiled; reminded that only a few minutes ago she said she wasn’t hugging anymore.


----- “Well, if that’s the case then you’re gonna need something for the road.” Tarlek spoke as he rose from his seat and took a bastard sword down from his wall. “This sword has served me well.” He said as he sat down. He slowly pulled it from its scabbard. “This blade took care of me while I served in the military. It divorced plenty of heads from their shoulders. She’s a good blade, made of the finest materials you could hope for.” He looked over the blade as if it was a long lost lover. “I want you to have it Kearg. Seeing as how I don’t have a son and my name most likely won’t be passed on I want you to take this. Remember what I taught you.” He handed the blade over to Kearg, holding it carefully like a child. Kearg in awe and speechless could only take the blade. He’d been told many stories and knew how much this blade meant to Tarlek. As he looked over it he saw the beauty in the simplistic design. It was kept well. The cross-guard was brass in color and simple in design; the wings flat with small turns at each end and in the center, the carving of a ram’s head. The blade was of smooth fine steel, the hilt bound in brown leather, and finally the pommel brass and simple like the cross-guard. Kearg slid the blade back into the scabbard looked up at Tarlek in admiration and said,


----- “Thank you.” Tarlek nodded in response and said,


----- “You’ll need it. Funny thing about that blade though…it’ll always find you.”


Kearg was curious about that statement and turned to ask about--


----- “What’s this?” A small voice came from behind him. Esra was pulling at a small wooden hilt poking out of his bag.


----- “Oh yeah!” Kearg sat the sword down on the table and pulled the two presents he got earlier out form his bag. “These are for you two.” He handed the wooden sword to Esra and the doll of Syrae to Reva. Both smiled brightly at their new toys. Reva pulled it in close and squeezed her doll as Esra got up and swung her play sword around the living room.


----- “Look Dad! I’m Kearg the Red! AAAAAH!”


----- “Careful with that!” He called after her. Kearg turned to Tarlek.


----- “You told them?” Kearg said almost shamefully.


----- “I told them a story of how Kearg Rjunlir fought bravely to save the life of his friend and instead sacrificed his friend to save the lives of many innocent children. They needed a story of their hero.” Tarlek smiled took a long sip of his drink and patted Kearg on the shoulder as he passed him to go play with his girls as they now were both in the living room running around from all the excitement. Even Andur’mir was playing with them. Kearg only looked on in thought; he had never thought of it that way. He always saw what happened as a failure, not a victory. Perhaps there was more to him that--


----- “AH! UNCLE KEARG HELP! MOSTER DADDY CAPTURED US!”


----- “RAAAA!”


----- “AAAAA!”


Kearg smiled, set his drink down and went to go play.


Hjaltland, Outside the City gates.


----- The sun had peered through the trees was beginning to light up the snow with a beautiful orange glow. Kearg and Xhuma’an had mounted two pack horses. They traveled light, one set out for the end so the old Sharian didn’t feel like he needed much. The other was an experienced hunter and didn’t need anything more than what the land gave him to survive, but with him now he carried a piece of not just leather bound steel, but a symbol of those who loved him; reminder that he wasn’t alone after all.


----- “We’ll be going to Uskortai.” The old Sharian informed.


----- “Isn’t that a little out of the way?” Kearg asked.


----- “I have a friend there that’ll take us to Shan’Manrir; an old fisherman. Besides, the most direct route, though efficient, is rather…dull. I need some adventure at my old age.”


Kearg just laughed. He hadn’t seen Shun’pa this bright in a long time.


----- “T,t,t!” A fiery orange dire fox pounced out of the snow and came up beside Kearg’s steed. “Come on Andur’mir, let’s go on an adventure.”


@The Empress of Ice


@Heartsteal

 

[The Lady Kitsunerisu]

The cab driver who was standing beside Zevran let out a small displeased growl when the Jackal appeared to ignore him, not paying him even the slightest bit of attention. He helped Zevran into the seat across from the jackal. He hoped that she and him weren't in a relationship, for if they were, it was a very bad one. He didn't get up and assist her when he saw that she was limping into the inn, he didn't seem to care for the child. He didn't dare meet the Jackal's eye, however. That would have been a sign of a challenge, and he didn't wish to challenge the younger specimen of their species.


"Farewell, my lady," he leaned down and placed his fur covered lips upon her hand, giving it a soft kiss. He looked up at her, a smile on his face, "I hope that we cross paths again one day," and with that he turned away from her and left, not giving her a chance to react to his obvious attraction. She stared after him until he was gone from the inn. She let out a sigh and picked up Jenesari, setting him on her lap. He needed comforting, and she was the only person in the world that would give it to him. She wrapped her arms around his midsection, putting her muzzle on his shoulder. She stared at Shuet, seeing no emotion in his eyes. He began to inform them of what he had done. Zevran was thankful, but she was also put off by his candor. He did not appear to care for what she and the child had gone through. Zevran was severely injured, and Jenesari was rough looking. They both needed hot baths to wash the day from their forms.


Zevran stared into the eyes of Shuet. Her vision was unfocused, making her unsure if she was looking into the Jackal's eyes, or if she was staring at the wall besides him. This man confused her greatly. He could be so helpful, but he also seemed like he didn't care about who he was helping at all. It made Zevran very weary. Throughout the years all she wanted was someone to care about what was happening to her, instead of being met with fear, because of what she was, or hate, again, because of what she was.


She opened her mouth to say something, the room began to spin. She couldn't keep her balance in the chair, she felt Jenesari jump off of her lap, then she collapsed sideways onto the floor. Then the world went black.


@LupusDeUmbra

 

[iAmGypsyDanger]

Seleme sat up against a shop, looking to the left, then to the right, waiting for something to give her clues on her mother's death. She'd been nearly everywhere, searching for the one responsible, only to have killed the ones she that she accused, then finding out they were innocent. The hatred was clear in her eyes, everyone who looked at her quickly looked away as if she was horribly painful to look at. Her right hand gripped the handle of her katana. Right now, she didn't care who died, she wanted to avenge her mother, even if it meant getting rid of everyone and everything. She knew there might be something far more important coming her way... but she refused to believe it. The whole expedition caused her to end up here, in Aleoth.


Being here for the past few weeks told her that it was extremely pointless and a waste of time. She hadn't found anyone who seemed suspicious, she hadn't really talked to anyone, and no one even offered to help in the first place. 'This isn't over...' she thought. 'I will find the one who took her away from me.' She stood up from her sitting position and began to walk toward the place where she arrived. Seleme's stomach felt queezy, just thinking of what her mother's death was like, the brutality, her brother failing to save their mother... She clenched her fist and her shoulders became stiff as she tried to forget the graphic thoughts. But then she started thinking about how good it would feel to find the killer.


She thought about capturing the killer yet another time, and realized she would need to start finding help. As much as she hated to admit it, Seleme couldn't do this on her own, and if she wanted to be successful in finding the killer, she would need to have someone to help her. She made her way out of Aleoth in a few long moments, and wandered south, curious of where she'd end up next, and if she'd find any help.

 

[Heartsteal]

Minke, in the port city of Uskortai



​

"Can ye believe 'e's still 'round 'ese parts?" Minke's voice called, chirping over the dull hubbub of the poor district's passersby, obviously still speaking of their old friend from training. While Topi might've seemed harmless on a meeting, in a fight it was like a switch was flipped, and when it did, sure as dung stank, nobody wanted to be on the business end.


"Ah can," Alvar replied calmly though the tone in his voice said that he obviously didn't want to talk any more on it, though whether it was of professionalism, or his distaste for the man was uncertain.


"An' 'e though' our lil lordlin' was a right proper lady!" she cackled shrilly, drawing a look of pure venom from their charge, though nothing more.


Both Dylenor seethed in silence, both at the insults directed their way, and the lack of professionalism of their escorts, though there was no doubt their mere presence had made the journey easier.


While the trip across town, even when passing through poorer districts, nothing hindered the progress of the carriage, at least not for more than a moment, a beggar emerging from an alley or standing from behind a box, and a Duender bard that pranced about before the horses, voice like liquid silver. While the pair of Dylenor were genuinely impressed and entertained, the song was an archaic Mjulnir dialect, and there was no doubt the bard had heard it in Hjatland, for the tune was derogatory, and downright mocking of the lowland clans. While Alvar kept himself stony-faced about it, Minke had managed to contain her temper long enough to warn him never to sing such foolishness again, then lost what grasp she'd held, and smashed the silver-haired young man over the head with his lute, hard enough to reduce the instrument to little more than splinters and split strings.


"Why is it that you must destroy all things precious?" Driskoll asked in exasperation, after of course both he and his manservant driver had taken the appropriate amount of time to gasp, then scream and curse at her.


"Te be honest Driskoll, it's better'n it woulda been were she not 'ere," Alvar said in a level voice, and while it sounded no different from the norm, the tension borne in his ink-marked shoulders said that it wasn't quite the same.


"Much longer an' it woulda been me, an' th' two of us're better'n most woulda 'appened to 'im," he continued, filling the gap after the pair of Dylenor men were silenced.


Whilst no one was looking, Minke took the moment to kick the minstrel in his ribs, cutting his inarticulate groans of pain short.


"What exactly do you mean by that? The singer had an excellent voice, and possessed clever fingers. He'll be lucky to have either after a blow like that," the lordling said, almost whining by the tone of his voice.


"Atsa song writ in th' high halls where 'ey spit on our like," Minke replied, answering the question though it'd been directed to Alvar.


"An ah'm not one te take insults lyin' down," she continued, indignant.


What remained of the journey to the Squeeky wheel was spent in silence, none feeling overfond of looking at one another.


When the party arrived however, much to Driskoll's surprise, the inn was a sturdy establishment, just bordering on the North district, the wealthiest in Uskortai. The sounds of a true Mjulnir drinking tune echoed from within, harsh on its first hearing, but after a couple of drinks, a real tune to be stomped to, hearty with the sound of wooden pipes and flutes, but only one drum, listeners' feet provided most of the percussion.


After a short time haggling with the stableboy, finding a place for their wagon, the travelers entered through a heavy oaken door, banded with iron like the place were a fortress. Above the door hung an old wagon wheel, a couple of spokes missing, in place of a sign.


When the door squeeled open, Minke in the lead, she threw both hands up over her head with a cheer, and from within a thumping could be heard, more than the stomping, several mugs slammed to tabletops in response to the sight of a fellow clansman, regardless of gender or origin. Alvar followed, knocking the doorframe with a meaty fist as he ducked through, and on seeing the giant of a man, another, nearly as large as he, though considerably older, greying and with one eye white as milk, nodded in his direction with a nigh invisible twitch coming from beneath his own considerable beard.


When the Dylenor entered however, still bundled and looking like chubby children in their furs, there was no greeting, only a handful of suspicious stares that eventually satisfied themselves, and returned to near-emptied flagons.


Approaching the bar, where a kindly looking older man with a shining pate where no hair grew, and a thick mustache coloured like storm clouds in winter, the carriage driver, still gone unnamed to those of Bolos, loosened his coinpurse, and made his most friendly of faces, not helped by the purple swell at the hinge of his jaw. The barkeep however, laughed about the broken mandible, and on hearing Topi's recommendation, indeed offered a small discount, even including drinks enough for the four, despite the driver only paying the rooms for himself and the lordling.


Returning with four mugs, the old barkeep, with twinkling eyes beneath heavy grey brows smiled at them, presenting two flagons of a frothy black substance, quivering like jelly rather than rippling like water, and two of a milky brown colour, behaving much the same. Minke and Alvar snickered quietly at the Dylenor's drinks, the milky ones that is, though neither understood, and actually had little difficulty ingesting the swill, unlike they had back in Bolos.

 

[Naxtaroth]

Sheut immediately took action. Jumping up from the booth, he caught the woman before she could hit the ground. He examined her more closely and saw that the wounds in her side were deeper than he had first anticipated. Sheut carried carried the woman out the front door, assuming the boy would follow along. He made his way down the street, catching glimpses and strange looks from passersby. He checked every now and then to make sure the child was still behind him. When he arrived at his destination, he waited for the boy to catch up. They had arrived at the best healer in town.


Sheut took the woman into the building and laid her down on one of the cots. He walked over to one of the healer's assistance and had a quick chat before returning to the woman.


"Where did she get these wounds. I need to know if an infection could be starting yet. Also, what are your names? It just hit me that I am trying to help you and neither of you have given me yours."





Sheut looked around anxiously. He hoped the healer would get here soon. He knew how deadly some infections could be and he did not want her to have contracted one. He had only been here once before. He had to carry one of his training partners here after a little accident in training. He cringed and smirked at the memory of the weakling whining and moaning all the way there. It was just a few arrows in the shoulders and knees, not like theyd struck anything vital.


His memory then took him to a much darker place. His father in the training ground firing arrows at him.





"If you can sit there and be still after 6 shots, you may go. Flinch once, and I add two more shots. Fear is the enemy, my boy. An enemy we must rid ourselves of."





Sheut looked at the many knicks and scraps in his arms. Some were from hunting, some were from training, and some were from fights. There were, however, many marks from his father. His father would purposely just graze the skin. His father claimed it was so that Sheut would no be overcome with worry at a small scratch. Sheut believed it was secretly his father's way of letting out his anger towards his son.


There were many times that Sheut's father told him it was his mother, not him, that wanted a child. Sheut, of course, never knew his mother, but he wished that he had. Most would think that someone who had never met their mother would never have developed any emotions for her. Sheut was living proof that that was not the case. Through the stories his father told and through his father being as stern as he was, Sheut yearned for his mother. He yearned for that connection. He found that he had developed a hatred of those who took their mothers for granted, an envy for those who had a mother, and a sympathy for those who had lost a mother.


He had originally thought the boy and the woman were mother and son, but even though they were not he could see the motherly connection. He would help them to ensure that the boy was safe, but he would do it for the boy. The woman had this odd way of setting him on edge, yet at the same time calming him. Remembering the boy he looked over and found that he was giving Sheut a strange look. Sheut had forgotten completely about the questions he had asked.





"I'm sorry. I seem to have spaced off. Please repeat?"

 

[BlaineInTheButt]

A few days after the encounter with the three sparring men, Loenth began to find boredom yet again beckoning him. He would do nothing but stroll around the village, wooing girls here and picking fights there, the typical man his favorite opponent. Having nothing of importance in his schedule, he would go out of Hjaltland and into the freezing winter, away from the city's security. Finding wild animals to slay was an easy feat with his eagle as his trusted navigator. It would find him a suitable enemy and guide him back home, something Loenth really didn't need but was thankful for it.


-


-


-


-


A week has passed and Loenth has done nothing exciting at the least. He was beginning to wonder if Hjaltland was starting to lose its usual spark of insanity. The sun was shining brightly through the blinds of his bedroom window, a female companion fast asleep on his bed. Getting clothed he wandered outside to find his mother preparing breakfast, a letter on the table. "Mother, have you a friend who you exchange writings with?" he asked as he walked over to the table, letter in hand. Turning her back to the stove, Mrs. Wylor looked to her son. "That is for you, dear. Someone handed it to me as I was outside tending to your horse. I had placed it there, the thought of you and a stranger exchanging letters in mind. A quite absurd thought, it is." she said smiling, turning back to her cooking. "Absurd, mother? How absurd an idea should it be?" Loenth asked her, ripping the letter open, eyeing the paper in his possession. "Awfully absurd, as you have no relationship with anyone outside Hjaltland, as far as I have come to know." she called out, not bothering to look at him. "I jest, mother. I have many a companion that you have yet to have heard of and met." he replied and began reading the letter.


-


-


-


-


~~~~~


-


-


-


-


Dear friend,


-


-


How has life been? I apologize for the sudden letter as I have an invitation to you.


As you know, I have lived in Shan'Manrir since I came into my sanity. You, along with a few other friends of mine, are one of the reasons of my current state of sanity. For that, I invite you to celebrate the day we shall celebrate- the day of my 're-birth' as some would put it.


I shan't keep this long as I know you well, and a long written letter that drawls out to no end is something you do not find amusing.


I await you on the fifth day of the second week of next month. I suggest you begin your adventure now, as I am sure this letter will take half of the time I mentioned to travel from me to you.


Your companion,


Shiole


-


-


P.S.


There will be many a woman for you to 'explore'.


-


-


-


-


~~~~~


-


-


-


-


Loenth let out a low growl as he finished reading the letter. "That bloody idiot. Can't he send the letter much earlier than this?" he muttered under his breath, not taking to mind the last part of the letter. A smirk began forming on his lips which turned into laughter. His mother turned to him during his moment of madness. "Now what has come to you? Laughing at nothing is certainly not normal for you." she said, placing their breakfast on the table before him. Looking to her, he only shook his head and walked back into his room, beginning preparations for his long travel.


-


He took no mind of the companion he took to his bed the night before. The sheets stirred as he walked around the room, clothes in one hand and weapons in the other. "Awake? Get clothed and leave. I have other matters to attend to." he said coldly, not looking to the female that left along with his sheets. As he finished getting ready, he looked to his bed and clicked his tongue. "Women. Too much of a commitment for my liking."


-


Walking out of his room, belongings on his back, he took a quick swig of his drink and bid his mother farewell. Mrs. Wylor knew not to ask of the woman that left, knowing her son would give her his usual answer. 'Women are only playthings to me.. For now.' She shook her head at him. "I hope you find a capable girl at Shan'Manrir to start a family with." she told him as he walked out the door.


-


He looked around his surroundings, everything in its proper place. "I find nothing amusing here, might as well leave." he murmured to himself, walking out of the city and into the wilderness, hoping to get to Shan'Manrir quickly.

 

[Manoneno1]

He couldn't hide a small twitch which he made as the woman approached him for a bit. "Good morning", he muttered, almost just moving his lips to a woman. A few worried thoughts rushed in his head: does she know about Területs, or even worse, does she have doubts about them? His body relaxed a bit as she fleed somewhere. However, he had a feeling that she had something to tell to him, and he wished it would be something neutral or good.


He stood next to the woman as she read the letter quietly for a while, hands holding themselves behind his back. As he concluded from Mara's eyes that she was done reading, he slowly opened his mouth. "He said it's urg..", he started, but soon saw woman's moving lips. "Shan'Manrir? I'm heading there today. Do you mind about a ride? I have a carriage. Takes couple of days, maybe even one if we hurry", he explained. "I take nothing, no", he said with a small laughter as he shook hands with the woman for a bit. He didn't mind company and the woman seemed nice enough to have no trouble whatsoever. "May I ask the reason..?", he questioned but it was interrupted by the boy next to her. "So you need to come too? Well, what a lovely coincidence. Why not", he said with a small smile and a small tilt of his head.


@Stickdom

 

[The Lady Kitsunerisu]

~*~*~*~Jenesari's POV~*~*~*~

​

Jenesari felt the teetering even before Zevran could notice that she was tilting. He made quick haste to jump from the woman, landing on the ground with a clumsy roll. He almost ran back to catch her, but she was quite a bit bigger and heavier than him and he could have received injury. He let out a yip of relief when the large woman was caught by the male Sharian... then he began walking away with Zevran. This put the little fox pup on edge. He let out a small warning growl, unheard in the loud music that was bounding throughout the building. He was sure that even the people that sat in their rooms above could hear the music almost as if it were in their very own rooms. He wouldn't allow Zevran to come to harm. He limped out the door, trying to hold in whimpers of pain as he tried to keep up with the swift moving Sharian.


He would look back at the fox pup every so often, which would put him even more on edge. It wasn't long before they were at a place full with coughing, screaming, and crying people. Jenesari's eyes went wide when he saw a Sharian in the corner with half of his fur seared off, the skin underneath looking nearly black. His breathing came quickly as he continued to follow Shuet. When Shuet set her down on the cot Jenesari had finally found his voice, letting out a small growl as he tried to stay far away from every single person in the building.


“Why?” is all he managed to say. His question went unanswered, the Sharian seeming too caught up in talking to others. When the first person that came to see her asked questions on how she got the wounds, that went unanswered. Jenesari didn't answer them either, for he knew that answering may have been a bad thing to do. He already knew that they weren't supposed to be here. It was a minute or two before Shuet finally acknowledged the boy.


“I'm sorry. I seemed to have spaced off. Say again?” His focus was on the boy now. Jenesari was very intimidated by this man. He had an aura that was all alpha. He also reminded him of the men and women that had enslaved his family. His gaze was cold, his posture was aggressive, everything about him made Jenesari want to shrink back and pretend like he wasn't there, just like he used to do. Instead he took a step forward, looking at the ground instead of Shuet's eyes.


“Who are you?” he asked, a small growl in his words. His shoulders were shaking however, relieving him of any look of aggression. “Why are you doing this, and why did you nearly kill us?” He said this last part just quietly enough so that no one else would be able to hear him.

 

[Jays]

Sins of the father, now of the son


Blood tainted heart, fate's weave undone


Remnant of hope sizzles and sparks


True faith shaken, Time's Wheel respun


Fire burns, fueled by hatred


Power turns, Deaths gather for a feast


Kingdoms fall and heroes lost


Redemption seeked, salvation reborn

---------------------------------------------------------------------



​

Raicus gazed down at the great city of Shan'Manrir. Its sight would have taken his breath away not so long ago, its giant black marble buildings, crowded markets and especially its inhabitants were the sight to either be marveled at or to be feared. He felt neither, only an echoing strangeness that lingered inside him from the moment he left Lerwar. The fire still burned before his eyes, blazing like a beacon on the solitary hill, consuming the small cottage that once held his everything. Its scarlet light stood out among a sea of white, the final breath of his old home. He watched as the fire burned high, flickering before the howling North Wind, until it died down into smoldering ember. The body of the assasins laid among the rubble, part of the past now. He stared for what seemed like years but could have been minutes, searching for the familiar door frame where he would have greeted his mother with a tight hug everytime she came back from a hunt, of the window where he had spent hours staring into the raging snowstorm while listening to the fire crackle, of the wooden beam which he and his father had fixed together when the last one had rotten and broke. Shapeless destruction stared back at him. They were gone. His cottage, his memories, his old life. All gone.


But it was necessary. Raicus held back his regretful tears and moved on. It was not his choice, none of it was, but changes demanded to be made. He always knew this day would come, and he was supposed to be gone before it would. But memories and lost had rooted him in place, freezing his resolve and chaining his feet. Now he suffered the consequences.


He had never known the world was so large. His father's stories did not come close to preparing him for the real thing, for the cultures he experienced and the sights he witnessed, nor did they fully describe the beauty of the lands. Raicus traveled further in six months than he had in all of his hunts, and nowhere failed to utterly overwhelm him. He saw the Great Ancestor Wall in Kwovat, climbed the rocky paths of Hjaltland, lost himself among the breathtaking sight that was Nir'Amen. For so long he was a blind man, shutting himself away in a corner of the world hoping storms and mountains would block away his pain. He was afraid that if he leave his shelter to explore the magnificence of his father's stories, the memories of his parents would instead fade away and become no more than distant stories themselves. He was a coward and a fool, merely a child who was too afraid to try for the fear of stumbling without anyone to catch him falling. He had been a victim of his own thoughts, drowning in memories that were renewed everyday. In a way, the attemp on his life had instead freed him of the bonds of the past. The crashing tidal waves of the Azure see or the enchanted spectacular of Nir'Amen could not quiet his heart, but the pain had faded somewhat into a distant ache within.


"Homesick again, Dylanor?" The voice snapped him out of his nostalgic state. He accepted a steaming mug of stew, grateful for the distraction.


"I would be, if I have a home anymore." He replied bitterly, his gaze far into the distance. He nearly spit out his stew as a giant paw slapped his back.


"A real optimist, aren't you." Derion smiled a wolfish smile, showing his sharp fangs. "Your father was less grumpy than that when I met him last 20 years ago, and he was a killer for the King. The boy was a softy, not wanting anything to do with killing. He wouldn't even harm a bug if he didn't have to. Kelron Cypher was the most interesting thing I have seen in quite a while." The huge Sharian recounted, a wishful look of his own on his face.


Raicus watched Derion as their conversation faded into a peaceful silence. The Sharian was said 65 now. He looked nothing like it except for a few patches of grey fur behind his ears. It took him quite a while to get used to the sight of the Sharian, and even longer for Derion himself. He was the biggest creature Raicus had seen in his life, even bigger than the brown bear he took down six months before. Standing at nearly 8 feet and a half, Derion was a commanding figure, his muscle bulging under the layer of clothing and fur, his face scarred and hardened. He could rip a snow hound in half with his bare hands, Raicus had no doubt. Even with them being friends, he couldn't let his guard down around the Sharian even if he tried. His instinct screamed for him to run away or to cower in fear, which he did neither. No matter how friendly and kind Derion was, he was still a predator at heart, and nothing could mask the danger that rippled off him in waves.


"Have you found anything new yet?" The big Sharian whispered quietly. The conversation took a darker and more grim atmosphere.


"No. No one seemed to know or heard anything, although they all seemed to be uneasy over something even they can not tell." The wind started to pick up, whipping against his exposed skin. The sun had almost set, shooting the last of its golden light to paint the sky overhead orange. The roof's stone floor felt cold and alien under his bare feet.


"What about the words or the chimes? No one could give a clue at all?"


"None." The answer came out under his breath. The words played themselves in his mind over and over again.


Sins of the father, now of the son


Sins of the father.....


Raicus wiped his face tiredly. He hadn't gotten much sleep for the last few weeks, yet the answers he found were not the ones he seeked.


"Something is very wrong, Derion. Everyone knows that much, they can feel it, but nobody can tell what it is that's wrong."


"As if I need you to tell me, boy." The big Sharion stood up and patted his shoulder again before decending the stair. "Get some sleep, Cypher."


"If only I can, Derion..." He whispered, but Derion was gone. The moon was coming up, bathing the city of stone in cleansing white light. A full moon. He started to wonder where his fate was leading him to. He had no home, not anymore, nor had he anything resembling a purpose, not yet. The world was a magnificent place of wonders, but with him alone it was far too large. Who would he be, what would he do, only time would tell. But he knew this much.


All paths lead back to Shan'Manrir.

 

[Stickdom]

Soph heard this man mention a carriage, and that he was traveling to Shan'Manrir. Not only that, but he had offered to take her, for no charge! She brightened, he was a hero to her now, she almost leapt into his arms, but before she had the chance, she saw that he had also been talking to this Mara, and Algos too. It took a considerable amount of effort to keep from pouting again, she doubted it would help her chances, and if she had to put up with the two dead-weights, it would be worth it. Shan'Manrir would be where she would learn to cure her sister, she just knew it, and now she would stop at nothing to get there.


This Duender pointed down past the inner sanctum of the library, out a window to his carriage, which was in fact, real. She had contemplated what she would do if he had been playing a cruel joke, but now that it was confirmed, she didn't care. She waited only long enough to hear his invitation, bowed low in thanks, saying as much, then race through the corridors of books and out next to the carriage. She thought it rude for her to simply get inside, so she impatiently waited for all of them to join her, and she got in second, after Mara. Algos followed, sitting next to Mara, and their host last, sitting beside Soph. Finally, they were on their way.


Almost a full day's non-stop travel later, they had taken a short rest, from which they could see Shan'Manrir's towers in the near distance. Soph jumped and clapped in anticipation, she was finally here, away from Nir'Amen, and sadly, far, from her sister. 'No,' she thought, reaching her hand into her satchel and resting it gently on the dormant doll, 'I am carrying her spirit here with me, and I will bring her home safe and sound, very soon. I promise, Finn.'


They returned to the carriage and continued on. An hour later, they reached the final stretch of road leading up to the city gates. At this point, Soph was shocked and turned to their host, "My deepest apologies. You have given us safe travels at no cost, and I do not even know your name. I am indebted to you greatly, at least let me know your name, that I may someday repay your deep kindness." Her air of her mother had returned, she spoke this in a regal voice, as if she had been of Royal blood talking to a peasant who had laid his jacket over a puddle for her to cross. Then, she remembered, a snatch of conversation she had overheard while looking out the window the entire trip. He was deaf, and she had just made a fool of herself, he had not heard her, nor had he looked at her talking, he had not caught a single word she had said. She tapped his shoulder lightly to get his attention, then silently mouthed the words in a much softer tone, clearly and distinctly for him, "Please, I do not know your name. I am Soph'ana, and I am indebted to your kindness."