Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

[SilverFlight]

The orc fell before anyone could react, such was the rage of the drow. They respected it, but could not let that stop them from restraining him. The glares some gave him spoke of the promise of later savagery. Lohrithe's call roused Desrick from his dizzy stupor and he forced himself to move. A fresh wave of warm blood poured from his side and he felt it slip over his fingers as he brought one knee under him.
"Don't hurt him!" It was an attempted command, but weakened by pain. One of the nearby orcs took a step and kicked him sharply in his wounded side and he went down again, grunting in a fresh wave of agony.
Zazz

Ora's voice cut through the din of Lohr's attack, even enough for Desrick to struggle to look up at her. There was gratitude in his eyes. The long, slow applaud of Lassard could be heard about the gathering. "Oh bravo my dear dwarf. That's the first intelligent thing I've heard from your party. Though, I rather think your diplomat is unpopular with quite a few orc tribes...wouldn't you say? You'd make a far better Cyndaran diplomat, if you want the job. You even look the part."
Flutterby

Uxul's eyes were fixed on the wood elf as he cautioned them. "My people have suffered all the while other races flourished. We have lived with the forest's wrath for a long time. For us, there is only good from this." He was slow and purposeful in his speech, almost as if he was trying to convince himself of it. He was focused on the elf, he did not notice the magic, or that Desrick was now breathing just a little easier.
Rhaine

"Get them caged." Lassard barked impatiently. "I want the rest of the fighters at the village. Now."
@ everyone

 

[deer]

The Elleth couldn't believe her ears. No matter how much she willed herself to face the truth, a part of her still held onto the small spark of light. However, her train of thought broke as she narrowed her eyes at Uxul as she listened to his side. She felt the anger and the hatred, but even more so, the frustration of prejudice. Had they been chased out to where it was unbearable to live? How broken were they? But, seeing Lohr's resistance against the orcs, Rossarinya remained still and tense as her eyes glanced towards Desrick. She willed him through her eyes. Please, Desrick. Not now. Fight. Regain your strength! You are needed more than ever.

However, Captain Lassard broke her concentration as he directed his gaze towards her. Rossarinya's emerald eyes found his cold hardened stare. Within a blink of an eye, the cheerful, nonchalant smile was gone and Rossarinya could only feel slightly proud of herself to be able to emit such an intense gaze from the flair-fooling High Elf. If she was herself a few days ago back in Summena, she would have lowered her gaze, but, not this time. She met his eyes head-on, refusing to back down. Uxul and Captain Lassard did not listen to reason, but from their words and expressions, Rossarinay felt a shift in the air as she watched them feel threatened and even conscious of her. Had they think them so lightly to not resist? She had no more to say to Uxul and Captain Lassard especially if it fell on deaf ears. Her words were close to treasonous? She saw no treason, not in Cyndara where Summena's light did not shine. The High Elves were in a territory not of their own only to galavant into a land, taking what they wish without remorse or responsibilities of their action. It was cruel. But it was . . . reality. But, the one thing Rossarinya could take from the Captain's words were in fact that spilling more blood, especially in front of those behind the threatened being would only bring wants of more bloodshed and hatred. It wasn't the time and place and it would only bring a vicious cycle of death and blood.

It wasn't until she felt a soft touch of Ora's hand and her words to lower her weapon did Rossarinya blink and steadied her nerves. On the other hand, Ora was right. She had let her emotions get the best of her, cloud her mind, but it felt. . . relieving to let out the turmoil coiling inside her. The burden was slowly lifting through her frame and it was only then she noticed the bright, glow of her hands. Her eyes widened slightly from amazement as she felt warmth course through her. It had been awhile since she felt her magic, ever since he disappeared.

As she trusted Ora, Rossarnya slowly lowered her bow and unnooked her arrow from its drawn strings. Her bow fell at her left side and her right hand carried her arrow on her other side. The glow of her hands still shined. When Ora stepped up to speak, Rossarinya kept quiet, listening to the clarity of the horned-woman's voice. The small, gentle grasp of a hand behind her coiled her wrist at the same time Ora began to speak. The touch would have made Rossarinya jumped or even alarmed her, but the movement was light and airy as she felt a part of her magic buzzing inside of her, distracting her mind. Her heart race as her face remained passive though her knees felt as if it were going to buckle any moment as she felt some energy drain from her, seeping from her vein. Nevertheless, Rossarinya made no movements and continued on looking straight ahead towards the High Elf, keeping her gaze about her. But, once the light touch of her wrist faded from her, the glow of her hands slowly dimmed and eventually dwindled. What. . . was that. . ?

But, Rossarinya couldn't dwindle on those idle thoughts as she heard Desrick's voice. He had made an effort to protect Lohrithe only to fumble back down once more. However, Rossarinya maintained her temper only for it to flare once more when Captain Lassard insulted Ora. Rossarinya stared at him in disgust and disappointment before turning towards Ora as she delicately placed her soft hand on Ora's arm as a sign of reassurance and encouragement. She was brave and deserved more than what she was given. Rossarinya could only glve a glare towards Uxul before she heard Captain Lassard's last words.

The wood village.

What of Falsedge? Song? Tomo? Razah? Lady Levinia? Rossarinya felt herself despair as she tried to think of other ways to escape. Somehow. Someway. They were in danger. Rossarinya didn't wish to change the mind of Uxul but to only inform the other orcs that may perhaps be second guessing to think of the consequences. There has to be another way. An alternative.

"You will only continue evoke the forest's wrath. Always having to survive and fight for your life. Always against each other. What good will become of this aside from more spilled blood? What good will it do your people if one had to continuously look over your shoulders and think if you will live to see another dawn or another night. Will the children have hope to live another life then the one now? Are you not tired from the hatred and pain?"

tags: SilverFlight , Rhaine , Zazz , Flutterby , Mythee , Rough Patch

 

[Flutterby]

Ora kept steady eye contact with Lassard, unmoving even though she saw Hael dart forward in the corner of her eye. What he was up to had to take a back seat to her trying to appear calm and measured, as she challenged one of those that she would run from in Sumenna. Well, not run from, but definitely avoid. Walk quickly in the opposite direction, but casually.
Desrick moved, not dead yet, but Ora couldn't bring herself to look down at him when she felt his eyes. They had done this, the Sumennans. She had been so caught up in winning the tolerance of the dwarves, so longing for the barest kindness, that she hadn't thought to question Evereach's claims or motives. This shame drove her onward, squaring her shoulders even against Lassard's flippant response.

Ora held her expression calmly for most of his words, even the insult to Desrick, because it held truth, obviously. Her expression hardened suddenly, when he 'offered' her the job. You even look the part. Her tail lashed, like an annoyed cat, twice, and she honestly considered spitting in his face. She was at the edge, teetering between composure and rage. The anger boiling in her was a strange feeling- she wasn't prone to anger, least of all from insults. So why was it rising, inside her now?
She had to stuff it down. Their lives were at stake. Ora calmed her expression, as if she had realized the truth in his statement. She tried to look thoughtful, even, the illusion of considering the offer. Acting this way made her feel disgusting, but they had to leave here alive if they were to do anything.

Ora heard Rossarinya speaking again, pleading with Uxul. Finally, Ora moved her eyes to the orc, studying his face as Rossarinya spoke. He was uncertain, about this choice.
"I don't think your words will matter much, Rossarinya. They have made their choice. The orcs chose to attack Cyndara, instead of protect it. Now Sumenna will be able to plunder it for whatever they want. I've seen a lot of high-value stones, not to mention the crystal. Sumenna will have everything Cyndara has to offer... And the orcs will have their territory back."
Ora chose her words carefully, clinging to the extremely small chance of not being branded a traitor to Sumenna and executed as well. Her eyes fixed Uxul with a critical stare, and then considered the orcs around them. They simply didn't know what they had done. As a dwarf, she held a pretty low opinion of High Elves- they were manipulative, every dealing had to be written in the strictest of details, and the elves still did their best to find any possible loophole. The only possible explanation, for a culture like orcs to side with them, was that they simply didn't know.

She looked back at Lassard, and added, "You elves always did have a greater talent, for finding loopholes and weak spots, than us dwarves. Ever more clever, you lot. " This time, she tried to make her tone sound like a compliment, as if she was impressed. But her eyes were hard with distrust and slow-burning fury. If she was lucky, Lassard would see it as anger from being uninformed. If she wasn't.. well, he would see her as she was- a traitor just trying to survive.
Ora's shoulders relaxed slightly, as she shifted back half a step, and looked resigned to being caged up with the rest.

SilverFlight Rhaine Zazz deer

 

[Mythee]

"’No I don't’ go aid someone clearly in need?" Song bristled at Falsedge, looking up with justified indignance as someone else went to release the boy, “I suppose a water tycoon ought leave the man in the desert with nary a sip too!”

“Let someone qualified for it handle this sensitive situation.” Falsedge stage whispered back at Song, tightening her grip further to drive the point home to this situationally unaware aspiring damsel-in-distress. “Civilians who dash into hazard zones are more likely to need help than to be help.” She finally let go of the light fae, then kept a watchful, if a little nervous eye on Lohrithe’s brave dash forward, ready to run up should he need help- but knowing not the scale of the danger this whole group was in. The moment came- but it was a lone orc, rather than an entire troop. They could take him. Seeing Desrick dash out to attack, Falsedge was right behind him, unsheathing Hack n’ Slash and ready to assist in neutralizing the threat.

If there had been one. She slowed her movement as the body language being displayed between the two orcs took a drastic 180 degree turn, causing the War Djinn to hit the brakes on her attack. Valac, who had hesitated at first and was slithering up behind her, caught up as Falsedge lowered her arms. They both stared silently as the Orcs greeted each other like old friends.

“You know each other?” Falsedge spoke. She couldn’t wait to hear an explanation on this one. Valac, in the meantime, seemed a little more shy and embarrassed about having come up here waving his weapon, and fumbled to get it back in its sheath as quickly as he could despite the jitters from the adrenaline rush already pumping through his veins. He looked back to seeing the half-orc boy reunited with his mother and sighed in relief, shoulders slumping. His blood pressure could finally begin to go down, in spite of the headless wyverns not too far away, which were still disturbing.

Though Valac’s attention was now on the rest of the group, Falsedge’s was still fixed on the older warrior that they just encountered. He seemed gratuitously strong and held an aura of authority. His vague words stank of omission, but he did say it wasn’t safe to stay here… Would this have been a calculated ruse to throw them off? Hearing Rajah’s offer to guide them back, she glanced back to the mother-son duo, reunited. Heh. Good for them. She smiled briefly. He didn’t act as if the armored orc was one of his captors.

Since that was the case, and the rest of the group intended to head into the camp with Desrick- which was certainly better than himself alone, Falsedge’s decision was cemented. To the soldier, her duty after taking on this rescue mission was not over until the mother and son made it back home in one piece. “Who knows if the ‘white robes’ will try to mess with these two again. Song, you too.”

She gave the orcish mother a nod and split off from the group to join her.

----

When the group was splitting up, Valac shook his head at Hael’s words and smiled, albeit worriedly. “I’m the reason you visited Delan today. What kind of friend would I be to leave partway through? Besides, I always did say I wanted an adventure.” He clapped a hand onto his other arm and raised its fist in a gesture often associated to the phrase you can do it.

The moment they entered the camp and found themselves face-to-face with the severed wyvern heads, however, his excitement turned into anguished internal churning, even among this mysterious and unusual gathering of orcs. “Ahhh, why!” He cried weakly, deep nasal voice rendered into hardly a squeak. His care for the wildlife was soon defended by Hael’s objection to the orc camp’s decorative sense. Oh, blessed friend. He nodded in affirmation at each of the magi’s words.

The Summenan soldiers stepping into camp were a shocking enough sight to snap him out of it somewhat; he gaped at their resplendent and white procession, the words ‘white robes’ echoing sinister in his mind. He was made to feel self-conscious at the few looks of disgust thrown his way by the passing soldiers, and froze like a deerfish in the lantern-eel light. ‘Army’. Army had just been a concept for the young naga- a concept which was now pushing into his reality. Why was a summenan army here? This was… an invasion force, wasn’t it? What would happen to his home? What would happen to his people? What about the ones right here…? Impending doom dawned on him with increasing certainty. “Hael… ” I don’t think everything is all right. He didn’t speak the thought, but the look he gave him said everything.

Rossarinya’s bravery as she stepped forward in protest of this military presence was a sight to behold. Valac feared the worst, but thankfully, she and the other Summenans were seen as allies. Shunk. Desrick fell, and his friend, the dark-elf’s grief erupted. Nothing had prepared Valac for this. Again, Rossarinya rose to the moment. In the heated exchange she had with the orc and Summenan leaders, he saw no place for him to intervene. He could only rest his hopes on her powers of persuasion- and Ora, who had stepped in, too.

Noticing Hael’s movement to go help Desrick, Valac blanched. He had said it earlier- it was he who had asked the kind hermit to accompany him on this day. If anything happened to him, he could never forgive himself. The serpentine adolescent coiled in near his friend, a barrier between Hael and the Orcs in case they tried to stop the healing magic. "Stay back, there's no need to fight!" The naga reared up, tall and ready, sword unsheathed, his body undulating- a length of his tail at the end swept powerfully across the ground, kicking up a cloud of dust and grass shavings while the dead eyes of the wyverns watched on. Even a young Naga was a force for be reckoned with, but it was hardly intimidating with two much more formidable opponents beheaded within sight. He was aware of this.

Lassard had only asked that they be caged, not killed. A mercy, but even that thought was terrifying to Valac. He wanted to ask them to grab onto his tail and escape quickly, but there were too many archers in this place. They were at their mercy. He blinked his eyes shut, and sheathed his sword again. “We’ll go without a struggle,” Valac spoke miserably as the orcs approached them, glancing to Hael and back. “Please don’t hurt us.”

 

[Nevina]

"Oh. Yes. Sensitive situation." She mumbled as everything seemed to be smooth sailing, though her anger at Falsedge was short lived as she watched the boy reunited with his mother. Despite her burning curiousity in wanting to accompany Desrick, she was also inclined to see the boy back home. "Once we drop them off, we best return here to join in finding the missing orcs." Once they found the missing orcs, all those terrible rumors of war could finally be put to rest and allow them to begin their new not-retired life in Cyndara.

Song smiled warmly upon sight of the town, turning to Razah, "May all your future days be bright for you and your family. I shall cherish the light of your smiles."

The light fae blinked at the boy's abrupt description of his kidnappers. Boy they sounded familiar. But no, that would be silly! Ha ha. Grimacing, she turned to Falsedge, "Speaking of sensitive situa-- What is that racket?"

The alarm bell caught her by surprise; she didn't recognize the sound until Razah named it. The war cries that followed were equally unheard of before, but instantly recognizable. Her frozen fear was short lived, for she had already spent weeks in flight with a maybe-not-completely-homicidal warrior for a companion, stressing for her life and worse - sleeping in the dirt. Taking charge of her own emotions was certainly no new thing for a Summenan, after all. "Perhaps you might take the boy back into the woods. I suspect you would know the area better than our attackers." Her voice was strained, and she spoke in a hurriedly hushed tone.

What was a non-fighter like herself supposed to do? "Falsedge.. we can't leave these people, they don't know how to even defend themselves, they're more like to be cut down for resisting."

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe managed to pause in his struggles long enough to fix Ora with an inquisitive look. He looked like a monster out of a Sumennan tale; blood smeared across his face, he spat out a bit of green flesh. His calm only lasted until Desrick was kicked in the side, at which point the drow roared and continued to struggle until the orc had his arms pinned down. He nearly bit his captor again, a snarl on his lips, when he realized what the others were doing. What Ora, specifically, was doing. There was no way, even with all the rage of the biggest, meanest orc, that they would successfully come out alive from this if they did not at least pretend to comply. With a grouchy "Hmph," the dark elf settled, letting the orc carry him as dead weight. At least he gained a bit of satisfaction from that. He was no twiggish wood elf; he had been raised on an orc's diet and regimen, and muscle was heavy.

 

[SilverFlight]

Spoiler: Desrick's group

"Well, it does seem like the dwarf ( Flutterby ) is the only one with sense. Pity. So my offer will be left un-taken by the rest of you? That is just fine." He turned to the orc captain Uxul. "Have your men bind the rest. The dwarf has free reign of the camp but...do keep an eye on her." He turned a cold glance on the other Sumennans. "Perhaps you'll have changed your minds when we come back."

Desrick was hauled to his feet and the others (save Ora) were escorted or dragged to the edge of the camp. The place where they would be kept was against a short wall of spiked logs. The light from their fires and torches barely reached it. They were expertly bound--Lohr with a bit more prejudice than the others--and left as the soldiers gathered their weapons and followed the troop of white-clad elves away into the forest. A single guard was left to watch Ora and kept a respectful distance, but watched her very carefully.
Though most of the remaining orcs would not meet their eyes, continuing with their regular tasks, some looked uncomfortable, even downright angry about how things had come to pass.
Desrick was sat up against a post, his head slumped onto his chest. The side of his shirt was soaked with red as he continued to bleed.
"Your friend doesn't look good at all." A voice sounded from the darkness just beside them. At first one may have mistaken the figure for a sleeping horse, hooves and ankles exposed in the faint light of the nearest light, but his legs were bound with chains and where the animal's head should have been, there sat the torso of a man.
n the darkness is was hard to see much of him, the outline of his shoulders and thick, wiry braids that were folded back against his head. His ears were long and pointed and his face angular. His eyes were a striking blue, noticeable even in the shadows in which he was sitting.
"Pyrrhus Elantus." He said by way of introduction. "Tell me, if the orcs are the ones declaring war on the rest of Cyndara, why do they want that one dead?"

Slowly Desrick began to stir. He opened his eyes slowly and winced as he shifted. "Lohr..." It was barely a whisper. "Are..you..are you hurt?" Zazz

Not long after that someone approached them: an orc woman with curled red hair and a pail of water and a ladle. She looked unhappily at the prisoners she had been ordered to care for.
"This is not right." She muttered under her breath, "this is not the orc way..."

Rough Patch Mythee deer Rhaine

Spoiler: Razah's group

The elves were the first forces to plow into the small town. Any who resisted were cut down mercilessly, but most were corralled into the square and up to the sides. The priestesses had opened the temple to fleeing villagers while the archer guards fired into the advancing Sumennan ranks.
"Forget the peasants!" The captain called. "Secure the crystal!"
It was then the orcs came. They marched with purpose into the village, batting away defenses as if they were barely even there. They began to form a ring around the thick trunk of the tree in the center of the square.
Four orcs hefted a large saw between them and braced it against the trunk. The first cut into the bark made the crystal's light shudder.

Razah clutched her boy close to her. They were just on the edge of the village and could see only very little, though the sounds were enough to guess. She new the orcs were invading. Razah looked torn. She wanted to help protect her home, but she couldn't leave her little boy.
"The elves will be torn to pieces. We need help, and we need a plan." Looking to her two companions that question was in her eyes.
"The priestesses might have a way to fight back, if we can, we should try to get to the temple."
Nevina Mythee

 

[Zazz]

The drow seethed as they were taken away to be tied up as prisoners, glaring with disgust at Uxul for as long as he could see him. The cowardly orc would pay for what he had done. Lohrithe clenched his fists and flexed the pale muscles of his forearms as he was bound, aiming to have at least a little wiggle room. The orc who tied him yanked the rope tight, using extra on him so that he was bound around his chest, too. And his middle. His face was still smeared with blood, and he did his best to spit out what was still in his mouth into the grass.

Near them, a being that was half horse, half man spoke from his chains. "The coward stabbed him," he growled, because he is a peacekeeper. These traitors do not want peace."

When Desrick spoke, Lohrithe's expression softened and he quickly responded, "I am fine, Desrick. The other two are worse off." The drow looked his way; he could see better than the others in the dark, and his green irises reflected the dim light of the fires. "You need a healer," he said softly, eyeing the small orc's stained shirt.

An orc woman, clearly unhappy with the recent events, approached them with water. Lohr rubbed the corner of his mouth on his shoulder with difficulty. "Uruk-gru," he addressed her gently. "He needs help." He nodded at Desrick, who was evidently not all right.

 

[Flutterby]

Ora felt a cold pit settle in her stomach. She was to be left as free as one could expect- but she would be the only one. The rest would be bound and kept as more obvious prisoners. The cold pit started to burn a little, when she watched Lassard leave them to the orcs. It had been a while since she felt hatred toward another being, but that elf had certainly earned it.

Ora plodded along behind the group to see where they would be kept, meeting the eyes of the orcs that looked on with a neutral expression. Would it help, to judge them? Would her disapproval turn them, or anger them? Best not to guess, until she had some more clues.
Her expression hardened a little when they bound her companions, not out of reach, but she wouldn't risk touching them. Desrick was still bleeding- that wound would quickly become fatal. Ora kept her expression set as she caught a glimpse of the other prisoner. A centaur, she thought he would be called. Half-man creatures still shook her a little, and she quickly averted her eyes to Desrick.

"Desrick is going to bleed to death. He needs a healer." She spoke mostly to Hael and Rossarinya, who she thought might know the right magic, but included the other prisoner in her glance as well. He might know how to get away with things, if he had been here longer. She couldn't hang around. Her guard might stop any attempts they made, and she needed to find out any information she could. "I'll be back later."
Ora took a few quick steps back as the orc-woman approached, muttering softly.
The half-dwarf looked her up and down, and said, "Indeed? Pity. I would've like to see 'the orc way' just once in my life." With that, Ora turned and walked back toward the center of camp, drawing her guard away with her.
Rough Patch Mythee deer Rhaine Zazz SilverFlight

As she walked, Ora spoke loudly in the general direction of her orc shadow. "I'm surprised the orcs are dealing with those elves. Was told orcs are all about honor, loyalty, individual strength and discipline... Elves are.. well, they aren't like that. They've always found a way to cheat me, so far." She paused, and looked over at the orc. "Hopefully you lot have better luck than I do." She waived a vague hand, and said, "Want to give me a tour? I don't really know what I'm looking at here."
SilverFlight (?)

 

[Rhaine]

The tall magi had seemed to shrink unto himself. It was almost unnerving how small Hael could become upon bouts of faintness. He rested his hand on Valac’s shoulder, recovering quickly, yet seeking the extra measure of assured support his young friend provided. All the while, his mind moved swift.

The she-elf hadn’t even flinched at his touch, nor at the draw of her energy. She stood impassive. She hadn’t even looked back, yet he had felt the shaken waver, the formative question, juxtaposed upon her spirit.

His eyes had turned dark, and they continued to lay heavy over Desrick - focus particularly drawn to his blooming wound.

The attempt had not succeeded, at least not in the way he had meant, as was evident enough in the seeping scarlet of the orc’s pulse. He searched for the source of its failing, looking inward into the quiet stillness. There was no certainty in the Mystic Arts. One single element not properly aligned would be enough to corrupt an act, though the fault had not been in its conceiving. He had not bitten off more than he could chew - not tried to reverse a blow, nor even mend what had been torn. He had assumed the she-elf’s intention had been ripe. Her passion had been there upon her palm, open and yielding. The energy needed - sufficient enough an aid for what he had required.

It had taken a concentrated burst of will to reach even the face of her waters, let alone submerge beneath them. That cool stillness was in turmoil, fractured upon its wake. He had been an unfamiliar, albeit non harmful, force amidst it. A path had been opened. It rested there, enraptured in mystique, hardly carrying a shape. His sight had been cast open upon her, feeling the raw bitterness of a wound long nursed. Unexpectedly, without his meaning, she had seen just the same.

One effort had fallen with no purchase, yet Hael could not say it had been a loss.

Something had occurred.

He wondered, for a moment, why he had not drawn from Valac upon instinct - a familiar energy, one with a path already paved.

It had been the light seeping from the she-elf’s pores. She had been so intertwined in the moment, he had assumed her will was in just the right place.

Perhaps he had assumed too much - been unwise, or perhaps he had been right. There was no telling now.

The fair-spoken dwarf, Ora, crafted more clever words. Further and further he could see how internal a being she was, how elegant the organ beneath her brow. Each syllable was drawn with thought. She recognized the severity of the situation, could see the paths that lay ahead. They were of no use to anyone if they were slain. The crystal would be as good as gone, and Desrick laid beneath the earth. Even the most defiant of their party could see the sense in it. Hael doubted she would incur any ire in her companions with her false words. They were love lies, in truth. She was doing her part to bring a brighter future to light.

Thankfully, Lassard did not seem to see through it. He couldn’t detect a sour note in his bearing, despite the pervading distrust.

Hael needn’t have considered responding to the senior orc, the one with coward written bold upon his brow. His whims were selfish, heedless. Rossarinya said as much.

Hael’s strength was returning swift, despite the ache in his legs. Just so, he was being lead away at the high elf’s word, grasp torn from Valac. The orc’s touch was not so gruff, though efficient all the same. He went as quickly as he could manage, not biting back when he was pushed along. He looked to the others, hoping to meet Valac’s eye, hoping to transfer some comfort where no comfort could be found.

There was little light at the edge of the camp - barren in its dimness. The wyvern heads were startling silhouettes. There glassy, dead eyes caught any glimmer.

As he was bound, his staff was taken from him.

“Show it some care, if you would. It would not trifle with being mistreated.” His low voice seemed a sincere warning. The orc said nothing, only bound him tight at his hands, his waist, his thin ankles. He did not wince.

Once more, he looked to Valac. The boy’s last words trembled in his mind.

”Please don’t hurt us."

“Valac…” The name came quiet, strung serious, though he seemed to think better of it, softening his entreat.

“Do not dream that I regret coming along. I harbor no second thoughts. I am glad. I would not have wanted you to be on your own. Better we are together.”

It was the most he could manage.

It was then that Hael became aware of the other figure bound upon the brink. A centaur, as it would seem, though he could see little save for his shape, and the watered slate of his eyes. The stranger’s energy burned low, yet vast. He recognized it in kind.

Hael noticed the roughness of the dark elf’s bindings with a frown. Yet, it seemed no matter, as Lohrithe responded to the stranger’s question with no lack of strength.

“What turn has brought you here, Pyrrhus?” Always inquisitive, he kept his voice to its bare volume, as if there was hope of being unheard.

His attention turned soft, yet weary, as the orc woman approached, pail of water in her grasp. The dark elf had done well in prevailing upon her good nature. Desrick’s time was limited, and she wore her distaste for his treating upon her for all to see.

”He needs a healer,”
”He needs a healer,”

From the drow and the dwarven woman, seemingly in tandem. His hands flexed in their bindings. He was itching in his restraints, growing sick with stagnancy already.

He looked to Desrick, who remained conscious by some good grace or force of will. His attention turned to the drow.

“I can save your friend, but not alone. Not if I cannot touch him.”

tags: SilverFlight Flutterby deer Zazz Mythee Rough Patch

 

[deer]

When Ora spoke in retort to her last response to Uxul's betrayal, Rossarinya could only look upon Ora's stature beneath her eye-lashes. She didn't fault Ora, instead, praised her for being able to hold her ground, grit her teeth, and take advantage of the situation for being Summenan. If it were any other day, Rossarinya would have been submissive, letting whatever happen, happen. But, with turmoil seething beneath her from, she couldn't do it anymore. She wasn't reading logically into the situation as a businesswoman. Instead, she reverted back to that emotional, sensitive Elleth who had no business in adult matters. Rossarinya felt shame but even moreso at the sound of Captain Lassard's voice telling the orcs to tie them all up except for Ora. If she hadn't lashed out, if she hadn't said traitorous words and been more clever in choosing her words wisely as Ora had done, perhaps she would have been better use than she is now. What would her mother say if she found out about this? What pride would she have left to face her brothers and father? Everything took a turn for the worst. Why hadn't Captain Lassard kill them? Why did it matter to him so much that she and other Summenans changed their minds on which side they would play on? Was he scared of Cyndarans? Or did he actually see her as his kin? Whatever the case may be, it confused her relentlessly. What exactly is she doing? What exactly can she do in this situation?

“Please don’t hurt us.”

The sound of pleading echoed in her ears, striking a nerve in her. Her eyes remained wreary, tired even, as she mustered the rest of her strength to remain impassive. As the adrenaline and strength she courageously built only a few moments before faded away, Rossarinya strided in a uniform, monotonous way. She was bounded like an animal and that only made Rossarinya's nerves sky-rocket. They were taking her bow and arrows, her treasure. Her identity.

Rossarinya hated being tied and it only caused her to panic as she tried to look ahead, only to see Lohrithe's face smeared in blood and perhaps wounded. She felt no peace or comfort heading towards the cage they were all getting in. The village would be ransacked any moment and they couldn't warn Razah and the others in advance. Rossarinya could only hope the others would be okay, taking care of themselves and are in a better state than they are. ( Mythee )

But, at the sound of a nearby voice, Rossarinya, despite being closer to the corners and a place with more room, she lifted up her head as she turned over, eyes widening just a bit at seeing the figure before them. A centaur! However, as Lohrithe answered Pyrrhus' question of Desrick's state, Rossarinya eyed his wound once more and internally hissed, bitting her lip to avoid feeling sick to her stomach. The smell of blood got to her and she could only close her eyes, listening to the voices around them. She heard Ora's voice and Lohrithe's voice in conundrum stating that Desrick needed a healer. Rossarinya merely nodded at Ora's words, still not opening her eyes as the sounds of another voice appeared, whispering about the "orc" way.

Slowly opening her eyes, hearing Ora's last words towards the orc-woman, Rossarinya stared at the woman for a moment, "Will you allow us to heal, Desrick or rather take care of our wounded allies? If you continuously speak about the orc way, what does that mean to us? To you? To them? And especially Desrick. Will you give him a fair chance?" Her eyes remained cold and stern, staring at the orc-woman before her eyes turned towards the wood elf and the snake-like male. She was impressed by their acts thus far but she could only keep a curious gaze upon the wood elf. ( Flutterby , SilverFlight )

A soft whisper escaped her lips, "Did you feel that as well? Was it you?" She questioned adding mentally into her head only you were behind me. ( Rhaine )

Taking a deep breath internally, Rossarinya wanted to stop thinking. She wanted to stop the confusion as she felt like she was only further getting lost in the maze. Her energy felt as if it was being zapped out of her as she felt the emptiness of not having her bow, arrows, and bag with her. Her journal. With a slight smile, Rossarinya addressed Desrick finally noticing something different about him aside from the blood.

"Your shirt. . . It's been tainted. You looked. . . very handsome in it. I hope my words the night before didn't make you feel as if you had to accommodate me?" She tilted her head to the side in thought before nodding. "When and if we get out of here, remind me to make you another, more looser fitting attire?" Rossarinya asked, a tinge of hope in her voice. ( SilverFlight )

And lastly, Rossarinya eyed the centaur, a lump in her throat forming. "Why have you been captured?" She asked, a slight sadness in her tone, piping in after the wood elf. But, before she continued, a part of her hoped, but a part of her knew any better, "Do you. . . do you know of a faun named Braxius?" ( SilverFlight )

 

[SilverFlight]

Desrick pretended to notice the bloody wound for the first time. "Oh? Is it that bad?" He gave his friend a weak smile.
Zazz
When Rossarinya commented on his shirt his eyes opened wide for a moment and he looked over at her. "A-accommodate? Er, no. No. Sometimes I...I like wearing shirts...that's all."
He seemed touched at the offer to make him a new garment. "I'll try not to get blood on that one."
deer

Pyrrhus raised an eyebrow at Lohr. "Evidently, they do not want peace, if they're stabbing the peacekeepers."
Zazz
He shifted slowly, inching closer to Desrick to the point where he could reach over and pull the cloth back from the cut. Desrick winced at the touch, but didn't make a sound, instead his eyes fell on the camp to make sure their orc guards were looking elsewhere.
"Well, someone's done a very good job keeping him from dying so far. The blade went in and up, likely punctured a lung. He might have suffocated already if this healing spell hadn't been cast." Pyrrhus looked through the bound group carefully for the one who had cast it. His eyes landed on Hael as the elf spoke.
"You're a healer." Pyrrhus smiled, "So am I, and it is not in my nature to let people like peacekeepers die."
Rhaine
He seemed delighted with the question of how he had come here.
"The most blighted bit of bad luck! I was on my way to Delan to resupply, perhaps gain a little coin through my music, when I run straight into these ruffians. I thought they were a travelling band of merchants--some orcs travel you know--but by the time I realized in was a war band...well...they didn't want me giving away their location. I suppose I should be thankful they didn't just kill me. You're not supposed to fight back when cornered by orcs, goes against their code to attack anything that won't fight...but I'm rambling. Let's see if we can't get that lovely verdant lady to loosen our bonds and heal your friend."
When the faun's name was brought up Pyrrhus gave a short laugh. "Do you know a light elf called 'Rachel'? Cyndara is massive, but for your humour, no, I have not met a faun called Braxius. He's lucky however, if he is acquainted with such a beautiful maiden." Rhaine deer

The she-orc seemed genuinely surprised to hear a drow speak orcish. She glanced back over her shoulders nervously to make sure no one was watching. She seemed to listen wholeheartedly to all that was said to her.
"We have healers but they will not help. No one who cannot challenge Uxul will defy him. There are a few here who are also not happy. Skilled fighters, like Burgren, the orc who watches the Sumennan dwarf woman."
She looked like she agreed completely with what Rossarinya was saying. "Uxul should have challenged Desrick, as is custom, not hidden the knife like a spineless coward, but he knew Desrick was strong. Small but strong, and he could win...I know our people suffer, we are pushed from our land...but our code makes us orc, not where we live."
She glanced back again before setting the bucket down and pulling out a small blade. "Desrick is wrong in how he tries to help, but he does not deserve this honourless death."
She stepped forward, raising the blade, and then brought it down to cut the ropes binding Hael's hands. She moved on to Rossarinya and then Valac and Pyrrhus but paused at Lohr, eyeing him nervously before handing the knife to Hael. "I will let you free that one."
She picked up her pale and ladle quickly, "Heal Desrick, find a way to escape. Perhaps you can stop this."
Mythee Rhaine Rough Patch deer Flutterby

Pyrrhus' hands were free but his legs were still tied tightly in chains. "Well, I can help heal your friend now, but if I am going to help you any further, I'll need the key. I think its in that tent, but as to how many orcs are also in there...I really can't say. Don't suppose anyone's good at sneaking?"
Pyrrhus laid his hands carefully on Desrick's stomach, waiting on Hael to do the same before he would start the spell.
"I reckon we can get this chap back on his feet between the two of us! Though just to be safe I don't think he should start fighting anything for a day or so at least."
Rhaine @all players

The orc that was tasked with watching Ora was listening to her intently. "I do not trust these elves." His voice was deep and gravelly, matching his intimidating size. He paused for a short while and then asked: "You have dealt with them?" He seemed keen on hearing more.
It only took a short glance back for him to see that the water girl was speaking with he prisoners, but instead of calling an alarm he turned his back. "You wanted to see the camp."
He lead Ora towards the fires. "This is the center of camp. Most warriors will be here." He said in a softer voice: "The camp is divided at the moment, most orcs who think like me...they gather at the northern fire."
He continued on, pointing at another large warrior. "That is the one in charge while Uxul is gone. Challenging him will win the obedience of the orcs here, however the orc who wins will also be expected to challenge Uxul."
He led her past a set of tents, and inside one their weapons lay, stacked in a haphazard pile. The next tent contained a sleeping orc, around his neck there was a small key about the size and shape that would fit into the centaur's chain lock.
Flutterby

 

[Flutterby]

Ora watched the orc unabashedly, sizing him up against the other orcs in view, gauging his reaction to her. He was significantly larger than Desrick, visibly more warrior-like, with a voice to match. Her tail flicked back and forth slowly as they walked. She hesitated to answer him, but when she watched him notice the water girl talking to her companions and turn his back, she had to hide a smile of satisfaction.
As they walked, she kept a keen eye out, trying to see anything that would be helpful. Ora also spoke, loud enough for orcs passing by to hear, about her grudge against elves. It wasn't even all fiction.

"Sumennans do not trust one another, too much fighting between the ruling houses, too many under-the-table deals and secrets. Dwarves and elves have been on bad terms for.. maybe 20 years now. Disagreement over the metals trade. I was a blacksmith. When I was starting, as an apprentice, and I didn't know my craft well, dealing with them was a sure way to lose. More than once, one of them sold me bad materials, low quality stones. One once brought in a shoddy weapon for repairs, and then blamed our work when the blade didn't turn out right. You can imagine how displeased my master was. And they never want to pay a fair price for honest work."

She shook her head slightly. "I suppose they are not all bad. But there is nothing in them, in their way of being, to stop them from taking advantage. Of those that know less, or trust more. I learned my craft very quickly, and very well, because of business with the elves. They are clever, and good business because they are rich, but not to be given leeway."

Ora looked at the orc with her critically, and added in a near-whisper, "They have been given far too much leeway in Cyndara. They sent us here, the group with Desrick, to gather information about Cyndara, as if we were preparing for war, as if our survival depended on it. But it seems it was a trick- they came here themselves, to have the crystal. I will never trust Evereach again."

They were, apparently, near the center of the camp, where the most warriors were. But not the warrior she wanted to see. She felt her heart leap when he confirmed that he was with them- and he was not the only one. Ora eyed the orc he pointed out, but with a frown. They were all so large and brutish. Who could win in a fight against a beast like that? She eyed her guide thoughtfully, wondering.
Ora easily caught sight of their weapons, the grip of her twin blades sticking out from the bottom, and tried to commit that tent to memory. The next one held an orc who should have been much more alert, with a key hanging around his neck.
She hesitated, her steps slowing, and then she shook her head slightly and continued on behind her guide. You can't single-handedly execute a coup, dummy. Northern fire.

Ora spoke more softly now, as she said, "If some disagree, why has no one challenged for leadership yet? Can no one win?" She took a breath, and then added a little louder, "I would like to see all of the camp, starting in the north, if you please. Since we'll be together for quite a while, you can call me Ora, if you wish."
If I'm going to do anything, I'm going to need help.
SilverFlight

 

[Rhaine]

Hael felt her eyes on him.

In the darkness, he could only catch the fragmented shards of emerald masked beneath the reflection of far off fires. Stupefied, halting, he hardly felt as if she were looking at him. He felt faceless.

Her voice was small in the dire, bound lapse - almost a child's voice, so soft. Uncertain.

What was she searching for? What did she mean to reclaim?

"Yes." He said, a low hum of a hush.

"behind then... at your side now," He responded almost unconsciously to that faint, near-silent thought. He had hardly heard a thing, yet he knew her meaning, could feel her cold swell of panic, shame, turmoil. He held her gaze, half-staring at rolling darkness alone. The features of her pale face warped and bent in the flickering far-off sparks.

There was no time to speak of such things now. He strained against his bindings. The red stone at the swell of his throat flickered. His legs pained him.

The centaur, Pyrrhus, was speaking again, Hael's attention caught at the mention of a spell, his mind trailing over the words prior. His focus turned sharp, moved by Pyrrhus' observation. He couldn't have known, not having been able to assess the wound up close. The healing spell had succeeded in some small measure. This small measure counted more than he could have previously guessed. He was grateful for it, relieved, if only for a brief moment, as they were far from out of the woods.

He had been able to sense the centaur's magic, and his feeling was confirmed with the recognition of the spell, his identifying, and the voicing of his caliber.

Hael nodded, neutral-minded, though endeared in some way by his genial nature and common thread. He nodded once.

"It is a fine thing to see. Often, in times such as these, it seems a rare trait." His tone was amiable, yet held the bite of his frustration for their captivity.

The centaur's tale, and then Rossarinya's weighted inquire. Missing pieces unearthed as quick as a flash. If one didn't pay close attention, they could be missed.

His companions had done well in imploring upon the red-haired maid, though Hael suspected her mind had been turned before they had even spoken. With the quick thrust of her knife, his hands were free.

"Thank you, bˈuj.ɔ. This kindness will not be forgotten."

He nodded in understanding as she passed the blade to him. The drow had viciously slain an orc warrior in his rage, fearsome enough for pause, though Hael knew him to be reasonable enough. Passion was a tempered thing.

He came to Lohrithe's side, pausing only for a brief show of intention, gesturing faintly to his roughly taut bindings.

"Permit me,"

He made quick work of his restraints.

"I am Hael.. my young, monopedally-gifted friend is Valac. It is good to finally officially become acquainted."

He turned, gently flipping the knife in his hand so that he held the blade, offering the handled-side to Valac. He met his eye.

"It is of more use in your hands than in mine."

He was quick at Pyrrhus' call, eager to bring Desrick out of danger. His hands were free. He was itching for a moment of use. Approaching, he performed a few swift, subtle gestures, his hands taking on a practiced elegance that seemed striking given the awkwardness of his gait. Words rested on his lips, too quiet to catch in their entirety. He was gathering his energy, bringing it forth as if it had been cast away in some far-off cavern within. Alike to a trick of the eye, especially in the dark, a sunken dimness, with indigo at its edges, swirled about the skin of his hands like blood seeping through water.

Before the wounded now, he looked up, searching for the she-elf's eye.

"Rossarinya," It was the first time he had spoken her name aloud. It sounded oddly informal to his ear, missing a title.

"-would you? We could use a dash of light."

"a glimmer will do... a spark ... you can do it ... it is closer than you believe," Just a thought.

He laid his large hands upon Desrick, just by Pyrrhus' own. He felt them there, lingering lights, though one dimmed ever onward.

tags: SilverFlight deer Zazz Mythee Flutterby Rough Patch

 

[Mythee]

The orcs appeared grim even as they approached Valac and took away his sword before escorting him, perhaps too preoccupied by their feelings of dishonor to make any sound of acknowledgement at the young naga's request. Valac made a piteous look on his face when his weapon was removed- much like Rossarinya's bond with her bow and arrow, that sword was his treasure. It was to his relief that the blonde woman had calmed her protests enough to be taken unharmed, like the rest of them. He turned briefly to her, but his words of appreciation choked in his throat. She had been brave, to try to defend Cyndarans like she did. But what right did he have to say anything? He could only manage a meager nod her way and a sad, short-lived attempt at a smile. deer

He was ashamed to find comfort in Hael's reassurance, despite the sizeable problem he had stepped into because of his insistence that morning. "Hael... I'm so sorry." For a moment, seeing his friend deprived of his signature staff for the first time, a tingling heat rose to Valac's opalescent eyes- but he blinked away and repelled the tears that had threatened to form. He had to be stronger than this. Rhaine

Yet his gaze landed on Lohrithe's snarling, blood-drenched face, and something about the sight caused him to dissociate. The elven leader's impassive voice rang unintelligibly. Even as the orcs grabbed onto his arms with a rough, unyielding grip to guide him toward the fence area, it was as if he was merely an observer outside of his own body, watching it all happen to someone else. Where had his adrenaline gone? That oppressive sense of danger that had weighed on him so much earlier? Perhaps he had less backbone than he thought. He had never been in a prolonged and bloody fight, lucky in those respects. Despite his nomadic lifestyle, as it tends to be in nature, the animals of the forest were both intrinsically wary of serpentine prey due to their oft-venomous nature, and not prone to hunting predators larger than themselves. All aggressive encounters Valac had experienced had ended in dissuasion, assisted by his skill with wildlife-charming enchantment- never having inflicted more harm than necessary to see a creature prefer to back off from the fight. Most Nagakin were indeed carnivorous, and naturally endowed with considerable body size.

And so, looking him over, the orc charged with tying him had to take pause, and then muttered some orcish words under his breath. So Vurgug and the rest get to tie up the other prisoners, but he, Dnengo, gets this big floppy one the length of three big cousin Groxgrens, without counting the humanoid part, to figure out rope logistics for? Would the rope even hold? After a few seconds deep in thought, he pointed at Valac's chest, then his tail, and made a spinning motion with his finger. "Now." He said, severely.
"Um... oh." Valac helpfully complied, wrapping himself in his own tail like that 'Racing Honeycombs' game young nagakin play whilst rolling down gentle slopes. It had been a long time since he'd made himself into a honeycomb, and he never imagined it would be in this situation. Feeling aside from sadness over his sword were no doubt beginning to return, because he felt sick to the stomach. His gaze rested on the others in turn, still trying to get used to Lohrithe's messy state, and lingering especially long on Desrick, as he feared for the worst. Everyone seemed to be taking this 'being tied' thing with a relative calm that Valac now tried to emulate.
The orc knelt and began trying to wrap the rope around the whole unnecessarily long teenager, questioning his life, but soon got tired of asking Vurgug to go get more rope. If this went on he would be late to the hunt. He got up, massaging his temples. Seeing the dark look on the orc standing in front of him, Valac felt sorry for him. He still didn't see the opportunity for escape, but... "Please stay calm sir, I'm trying to help." The massive snake unfurled slowly and carefully, a length of the rope that was already tied stretching and snapping as a result nonetheless, eliciting a groan from the orc whose veins were now bulging on his forehead.
"Sorry, sorry!" He hurriedly tried to pacify him, then slithered a few tight circles around a trunk of a wooden peg, the amount of motion putting his jailer on guard. Finally, he turned slightly toward the orc, extending his arms behind his back helpfully lined up with the raised tip of his tail. The orc was eager to see this all done and over with, especially given some stirring accidental eye contact with the youth, whose slitted pupils looked all too much like those of the slain wyverns. Dnengo tied what was offered, tugged on it to see that it holds, and finally stomped off, leaving the party of prisoners to be by themselves, and the naga to relax. The illness he had felt had, somewhere along the way, had passed into a jittering anticipation. After all, he could probably escape from this, and just needed to find the right moment to free the others... and the right moment to communicate it. The orc had been wrong to think that rope could hold them, and no doubt Hael knew this. Animating rope was one of the most celebrated of enchantments among Nagakin. Was now the time?

An unfamiliar voice rose from nearby, and Valac recognized the shape of a centaur. Did the orcs plan on taking all of Cyndara captive that they casually ran across?
Desrick's movement right after caught his full attention before he could ask questions of his own.
"Um... How are you feeling?" he asked, anxious. SilverFlight

He was glad to see Ora still safe as she approached them. He tried to encourage her before she left, their one chance, perhaps, at creating the right opportunity to escape. "I know this sounds ironic, miss, but... h-hang in there!" He laughed a short, awkward laugh, and then hung his head in embarrassment. Perhaps he had spoken a little out of turn to the half-dwarven lady. Flutterby

The offer made by the brave elven woman to Desrick piqued his curiosity- he could have believed she was a noblewoman or princess like in the Summenan tales he had heard, but perhaps that was not the case, if she was a seamstress? Then she asked about a faun named Braxius, and he could only wonder about how much more they had in common. He hoped he'd have a chance to ask her about it later, as well as the reason she and the elven military leader knew each other. deer
He was surprised by the orc woman as she put down her bucket and opted to help them instead, at great risk to herself. All to conserve the ways of her people. Valac couldn't imagine how that must be like, but he found her to be inspiring, just like the hero stories he had loved as a child.
"You've helped us greatly. Is there any way you think we could help you in return?" He asked her earnestly and with some wonder.
"Thanks Hael- oh, a knife! This is great." The knife was a far cry from his sword, but given the danger in the premises, he accepted it with no small enthusiasm.
While Hael's brand of magic would be capable of healing Desrick, Valac's style- much more of a utilitarian, parlour-trick kind of magic, really- had its own role to play. He looked back toward the camp, worried if anyone was watching- no, for some reason, it seemed as if the orcs were making a point not to look at them.
Valac slithered over to Pyrrhus, smiling apologetically at the mention of sneaking. "I can move quietly, but I'm easy to catch sight of. It's the same for you, I imagine, sir. Now, assuming these locks aren't counter-enchanted, this should work..." Doubting that the orcs would have used such an elaborate lock, he didn't bother putting up countermeasures before he tapped the metal, and as simple as that, a reddish-orange glow shone out of it from within. He had positioned his tail to block that light from being visible to the camp. "That should do it, but it will probably go back to being locked in a few minutes."
People would be surprised to learn how often people locked themselves- or things- in or out of other things. It seemed almost every month, and sometimes multiple times in a week, Valac had been asked to use that spell.

Zazz Nevina Rough Patch
((OOC: Only Valac side for now, should have time to write Falsedge side in 1-3 days))

 

[Zazz]

The drow met the gaze of the orc woman with pride. To be feared by an orc was no laughing matter. He nodded to her in respect and thanks as she freed the others and handed Hael the knife. Soon he was free from his restraints, thanks to the wood elf. Lohrithe patted the pockets in his pants the orcs had neglected and was relieved to find his horn carving, as well as his carving knife. He pulled out the latter to wield and rubbed his face on his arm. Though, he knew it would take more than that to rid himself of blood. The drow took what he could of the rope, ready to use it as a weapon if need be. These orcs were not to be trusted.

Lohrithe knelt by his friend and gently pulled the hair from Desrick's face. "Friend," he said softly. "You mustn't give up. There is still hope." He looked around at the others. "We must free Lady Ora and collect our things. We could..." He hesitated, knowing how unfriendly his people were with foreigners. Glancing at Rossarinya, he could only imagine his mother's distaste. "Never mind. We must get away from here."

 

[SilverFlight]

"Well met Ora, I am Burgren." He began to lead her to the north of the camp. "There are those who could challenge yes, but we are divided. Our need is real, and it is great. We have been pushed so far off of our ancestral homes that it grows difficult to provide our people with food and clothing. It is more dangerous. We are only truly born in war and bloodshed, but our numbers are thinning too quickly. On the other hand, we are bound by a code of honour, and what Uxul does, it spits on that code. My people are torn between what we need, and what we are. If there would be a challenge, the one who calls for it would need to have a plan on how to help the orcs get what we declared war to win."
Burgren stopped at the edge of a modest campfire. Several hardened warriors looked up, their faces grim. They only needed a few moments of looking between old Burgren and the young Sumennan dwarf to know what their ally had told her.
"Through every dispute we have had with the elves of this region we have adhered to our code. We are fighters, but we do not shed blood needlessly. If one side calls for an honour duel to settle the dispute, we must oblige...Desrick knew this...but, I don't think the chief of Roz'kul ever expected him to use it as he did..."
Flutterby (@ all players for the backstory)

"Charmed to meet you." Pyrrhus said with a delighted smile. When Hael came up on Desrick's other side Pyrrhus began to focus his power.
"You know, I much prefer weaving my magic through music, but touch actually does work in a more concentrated way."
He connected with the stream of power, felt Hael's flow underneath his fingertips. Slowly he concentrated on the wound in Desrick's side, wove the magic into flesh and slowly, the wound began to close. Before their eyes muscles knit, the skin sealed itself, leaving only a faint line where the blade wound had once been.
The orc breathed deeply and easily, and then smiled up at his healers.
"Thank you." He said, and all of the gratitude he felt was weighted in those two words.
"Take it slow. The wound may be closed but the seam is still weak. One good knock could open it again. Your body needs time to strengthen the flesh."
Rhaine Mythee

Once he was healed the orc woman gave a small smile of relief. She looked at Valac and shook her head slowly. "Just...if you get caught. I wasn't the one who freed you."
Pyrrhus watched as Valac came up to him, seemingly intrigued by his long serpentine body. He watched with great interest as Valac set to work on the locks, positively beaming as they broke open under the spell.
"You brilliant boy!" Pyrrhus said in an excited voice, making sure to keep it to barely above a whisper. Quickly he slipped the chains from their padlocks and pulled them off his long legs. "Now that I'm free we can have some real fun."
Mythee

Desrick placed a hand gingerly where the knife wound had been. He seemed almost melancholy.
"Dear boy what's the matter?" Pyrrhus asked as he curled his foreleg under his chest like a cat so he could rub some feeling back into it. "You are happy that hole in you has been magicked away...aren't you?"
Desrick looked up at Lohrithe as he came close, reaching a hand out to brush the elf's arm gently, but pulling away as if he wasn't worthy of the act. "I deserved this."
Pyrrhus frowned. "What an odd thing to say."
Desrick looked up at the gathered party, earnest in his apologetic frown. "It's my fault the orcs are here, my fault they joined with the Evereach clan...all of it is my fault. It's time I told you why this is happening. " He took a deep breath.
"Orcs have an honour code we must uphold, before a war, a single challenger can be presented to duel a fighter from the opposing side. The winner is granted what his or her tribe desires. The first large conflict I ever faced, came down to this. When the elves could not be pacified I told them about this code, to prevent them from getting slaughtered in a battle. If they lost, they would only lose that hunting ground...or...that is what I thought the orcs would take as their prize...but what they asked for was not the hunting ground...but the right to win it through a full tribe war..."
Mythee Zazz deer Rhaine Rough Patch

"It was a foolish thing to ask for, but the chief of this tribe was angry, for, in orc culture, they had done nothing wrong." Burgren sat by the fire and motioned for Ora to sit by him. The warriors were all looking at him with grim expressions. "Desrick could not let the elves be killed in such a way, so...he volunteered as their champion. It was seen as one of the greatest betrayals by many. It is why there are few here who will defend him. Now, Desrick learned to fight in the orcish style, but he learned other things too. He learned to use his small size as an advantage, he learned to fight differently than an orc would expect...and, while the orcs were fighting for lands...Desrick knew he was fighting for lives..."
Flutterby

"I won because I had to win." Desrick looked miserable. "But the elves saw my skill as an opportunity. From then on every challenge that was brought up, I was called to fight. There were often times I knew I was being manipulated. That the conflicts had been organized to push the orcs from the land that kept them strong. I thought...I thought I could help them by teaching them not to rise to taunts and prodding...I was wrong. If I had found some other way. If I'd have just refused...I...I should have tried harder for my people..."
He put his head in his hands as if to hide from his past actions. "I am ashamed."
Mythee Zazz deer Rhaine Rough Patch

"So then." Burgren smiled at Ora, and the other warriors slowly followed, their lips curving over their white tusks as the light of the fire danced across their faces.
"You know how this happened. Now we need to figure out what to do about it...The orcs will not follow one who takes power but has no plan for their future. You and your friends might have the key to getting us through this...any ideas?"
Flutterby

 

[Zazz]

The drow frowned when Desrick pulled his hand back. He sighed and took his orc friend's hand, green in moonlight. "It seems," said Lohrithe, "it isn't just a Sumennan trait to be manipulative and cunning. It is an elven trait across the lands." He looked to Rossarinya with a sad smile. "At least there are some who rise above." Lohrithe tucked the orc's hair behind his head once more and lifted his green chin with pale, gentle fingers. "You did what you had to, my friend. All you can do now is the right thing." Lohrithe glanced the way of the camp. "And right now, the right thing for me is to get you out of this disgrace of a camp," he said with distaste, eyeing the wyvern heads.

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe looked over the... camp. His eyes were likely the best equipped to cut through the darkness. He dipped a hand in the water bucket and cleaned his face a bit more, then surveyed their surroundings. From his other pocket he retrieved a gemstone and gently placed it in the hand of the orc woman. "Thank you," he said in his deep, elegant voice. "Uruk-gru, where can we find our posessions?" His sword would be heavy, he knew. With a heavy sigh and a frown, the drow thought the situation over. He could see Ora, just barely, by a fire to the north. Surrounded by orcs. If Burgren was sympathetic, as the orc woman had suggested, perhaps he might let her free. Ora would, he had no doubt, find a way to talk herself out of a situation if need be. He needed to get Desrick to safety, but... where was safe? The wood elf village was likely under attack; there was little their small group would be able to do to stop it at this point. Perhaps the dark elves would take them in? Though, they would likely be more welcoming to Razah and her son than the wood elves, if he were honest. No, that was the best option, unfortunately. "We could go to my home. Desrick could rest, there." He hoped Razah and Tomo.... and Falsedge and Song and all the others would survive. What would happen to the crystal? Sure, as a drow, Lohrithe did not much like it, but he knew it was the center of civilization for other communities.

 

[Flutterby]

Ora committed his name, Burgren, to memory, and decided that she trusted this particular orc. Maybe not with her life, or as much as Desrick, but enough. Enough to help. She stopped a few steps behind Burgren, looking around the campfire with an obviously nervous expression. Orcs were massive, muscular, and toothy. They were intimidation personified. She tried not to let it get to her, as she followed the motion to sit with the orcs.
You are the absolute last being on this world that should be attempting this, you nitwit. What do you possibly hope to gain from this?
Ora frowned to herself, pushing that annoying voice down to listen to Burgren and the history of the feud between the orcs and elves.

At the end of the story, Ora was left looking at a group of orcs, all smiling tusky grins, watching her expectantly for an answer. For a heartbeat only her tail moved, flipping back and forth. Internally, full panic was happening. But her face remained nearly-neutral, if not a little disappointed.
"Sounds to me like Desrick was set up to fail, ill-prepared and without true support... But I suppose, what's done is done." She eyed them, but didn't say more on that subject.

Her dark eyes swept the group, and settled on the fire.
"Evereach has a plan- more than what they have shared with any. If they simply wanted to ally with orcs to gain the crystal, they would have done it, secretly, without sending in my excursion. There are too many unanswered questions- and I don't think we have time to answer them all. Not if we are going to stop Evereach from stealing that crystal."
She was silent for a heartbeat, and then she brought her gaze up to meet the orcs'.
"I am not a strategist. I have never known war myself. I am not an orc. I may not be the best person to help you... But I have one idea, one you may not like, but one that may just work."

Ora took a deep breath, and then spoke her idea aloud.
"The first thing, is that someone must challenge the second in command here, and gather the orcs to fight. And then we must fight for Delan. I understand the animosity you feel for the wood elves, I do... But this- this is wrong. This could mean all of Cyndara is at risk. Evereach has to be driven out of Delan. Into the forest, where they will have to fight you, and whatever Cyndara has hidden out there.
"If Delan and the crystal can be saved, you will need to deal with the elves. At first, they may need help rebuilding and recovering. You will help them. They will need gestures of good faith to show not all orcs supported this move. It may be necessary to.. to charge Uxul and his closest supporters with some kind of crime, to fully condemn their actions.
"And then you must negotiate. I know that is not how orcs do things.. but you must adapt, if you are to thrive, yes? You will be gracious, sincere, and ask for only what you need for your people, only what can be given fairly. Maybe there will be time to create a code, for orcs to use when dealing with other races. Or one between the orcs of this region, and the elves that live here. If the code is what makes you orc, then the code needs to allow for your survival, for your coexistence with the rest of Cyndara."

Ora paused, and swallowed, and then added, "And if you can't keep Evereach from taking the crystal.. Some should stay and help protect the elves. That will improve their opinion of you greatly. And some should try to retrieve it. I-well, I don't know how that would be achieved. You would need a way to outrun them to the border, to keep them from escaping with it. Is there something faster than horses? Or- or a trap, funnel them into a grove of blood-oaks or something..."
Ora was beginning to loose confidence, as she ran into the end of her planning, and eventually she trailed off, staring at the orcs when she realized just how much she had just said. How much she had suggested, how strong her voice had been, how long she had held the eyes of each orc warrior sitting around the fire. Who in sky's name have I become?

She cleared her throat, and ended with, "Either way.. the orcs have made an error, and it is right for the orcs to fix it. You are running out of time to do so. Inaction is no longer acceptable, and following blindly is not honorable. You said yourself that Uxul is spitting on your code. So let's stop him."

 

[Mythee]

'I cannot thank you enough.' Falsedge digested Razah's words of thanks slowly. "...Yeah." Was all she could say in return as the orc mother, her son, and their unlikely escort marched back to Delan together. She did not quite know how to feel about this taste of earnest gratitude, so unlike the odious thanks she was so used to receiving from two-faced nobility, only praising her for keeping their secrets and influence securely defended from the other cutthroats.

Today, life tried hard to look simple, despite the fact they hadn't caught the perpetrators yet, nor found the missing orcs. For every bit of ease that entered Song's generous smile, Falsedge saw the threat of loosening her vigilance, and this prompted her to sharpen her attention further. This rodeo's not over yet. She nearly muttered it under her breath, but Tomo's interruption came just in time.

Her eyes flew open so wide that the red of their veins were visible. She spoke in a controlled and low voice, trembling with a sudden, much greater cause for anxiety.
"Didn't it occur to you sooner that those are Summenans, kid?! Fuck- hold on." War might already be underway, with her none the wiser. Fearing the worst, the war djinn rushed up a tree- in other words, climbed it with less-than-elven grace- to get a better vantage point and take a look at the area around the village, just in time for the alarm bell to ring. Her initial shock and surprise had passed into the throat-clinging ache of dismay. Standing on a branch she turned to Song after the light fae spoke, finding herself in agreement with the idea of getting the small family away from here. "You shouldn't go in there. The battle is lost." She spoke to Tomo and Rajah, rubbing the space between her eyes with the knuckles of two fingers as if nursing a headache. "At most, we can help some of the citizens flee."
The sounds of the orcs invading and sawing at the great tree in the center of Delan were not distinct enough for Falsedge to understand what was going on exactly. Briefly, she had wondered if they were here to fight the Summenan army- but there was no reactionary outcry, no change in the Summenan ranks. Her eyes narrowed, and she leapt down.
"So I guess we've found those missing orcs." She nearly spat the words.
"Some wood-elves might be regretting that they didn't look for them earlier."

Falsedge met the mother's gaze at her hopeful suggestion, seeing the struggle within. She might have expected her to charge in looking for her husband, but what Rajah proposed wasn't that hot-headed. Good. They had to come to a proper decision quick, and quick decisions, that was in her competence.
"I see. If you really believe the priestesses are worth a try, I'll go. Before you argue, know this- One, I've been around the block last night, I can think of a few ways to the Temple. Two, with the orcs attacking, I don't see you and Tomo getting through those doors with all of the wood-elves guarding it. But what you two and Song can do is run back to get the help you speak of. Find Desrick and the others. If you don't have any other tips, I'm heading in. Song... I'll find you."

SilverFlight Nevina

 

[Nevina]

"Oh yes send me trudging through the muck again? I think not." Song replied airily, curtains drawn tight around her spotlight of fear. "I believe Razah is quite capable in seeking the aid we require, whereas I'm sure you are more like to make the priestesses break any vow of non-violence towards you. You will be accompanying me." Gold eyes turned to meet Falsedge's, daring her to decline.

Before waiting for an answer, she turned back to Razah with a quick, "Travel safe, may the light carry you and your child swift across the lands." At that, she turned away, cloak pulled tight around her luminous skin as she started slinking towards the temple, ignoring the familiar pounding of her heart at the thought of blades silencing it. Oh, sure, she didn't know any other way to get in than the front, but there was no doubt in her presumptuous mind that Falsedge would be showing up to bluntly point out some alternate path.

 

[SilverFlight]

The red haired orc woman pointed to a small tent. "Your weapons are there, but they are guarded. You will need to distract the warriors." With that, she hurried away.

Pyrrhus, still kneeling beside Desrick, raised an eyebrow at the dark elf, but kept his peace.
"Not yet. Lohr," Desrick said slowly. "You're right though. I can still do the right thing...and I can't just run. We have to save the crystal." Zazz

At first Burgren was frowning. Trying his best to concentrate on what Ora was telling him. Slowly his expression changed, his lips began to curl upward in a comprehending smile. "It shall be as you say." With that Burgren stood and raised his weapon over his head. He gave a great bellow that echoed across the camp.
"Uxul's second!! I challenge you!!"

One of the orcs backing Burgren leaned down to Ora and whispered carefully: "If I have a bird, I can message the other orc tribes quickly. Get them to come. Do your friends know how to summon them?"
As if on cue, a face appeared in the bushes beside the camp. It was Crispin, looking near-terrified, but eager to do something. Flutterby

Pyrrhus, upon hearing the cry took the opportunity to get to his hooves. "Does this mean we're not arrested anymore?"
Desrick sat further forward and tried his best to get up, needing help from surrounding party members to do so.
For every orc that stood behind Uxul's second, there was an orc who backed Burgren.
Pyrrhus leaned down to be level with the heads of his new companions. "I would count this as a plenty big distraction."
Rhaine Rough Patch deer Zazz Mythee

The head priestess at the temple seemed to be looking for them. She was in front of the doors, letting any of the townsfolk pass. Their attackers it seemed, were content to just have them out of the way. When she saw the small party approach she looked relieved. Quickly she motioned them to an unnoccupied facade of the building. Razah had refused to leave as well and as they stood, huddled in the temple's shadow created by the now flickering crystal a small section of the wall folded in upon itself. The bright face of an acolyte peered through. "This way!" she chirped.
In the distance, the outraged howls of a thousand beasts began to rise like a hellish chorus in the darkness beyond. The acolyte led them down a dripping and narrow passage that led up a small flight of stairs and came out in one of the smaller prayer rooms in the temple. Candles were lit and wall to wall in the main building the townsfolk of Delan were huddled.
"Things are getting worse...much worse. The creatures of the forest cry out with Cyndabrynde's anger. I'm afraid not even the crystal's light will keep them at bay for long..." Nevina Mythee

 

[Zazz]

Lohrithe nodded at Pyrrhus, and turned to Rossarinya, trusting her most out of all who were present. The wood elf seemed levelheaded enough, but he had known the light elf for longer, ironically. Placing his faith in her, he stood to take her hand in both of his. "Stay with him, please. I will retrieve your bow," he promised, then left, his carving knife in hand, rope in the other, his feet quiet on the dark soil. He ducked between tents, growing closer to the one their items were said to be stored in. Once he could see it was clear, he motioned for the rest to follow quietly.

Inside the tent were two bedrolls, left empty. The guards had emerged to witness the fight about to take place. The drow slipped in, squinting through the light of the lantern, and carefully snuffed it. Able to see better, he found his sword and sheathed it. He then set out to pass the rest of the items in a train back to his group.

 

[Flutterby]

Ora's heart was stuck in her throat as her eyes bounced along the orc faces, trying to read them, and finally settled on good ole' Burgren's mug. He was frowning at her, but then.. his lips spread, and revealed the tusk-filled grin she was beginning to like about these orcs.
It shall be as you say.

It felt as though the earth dropped out from under her, and then surged up to swallow her whole. The rush of relief turned her face pink, and the dwarf had to blink back the moisture in her eyes before she nodded to acknowledge him. All at once, the orcs burst into activity, at Burgren's cry of a challenge.
Ora stood back, by the fire, until another orc bent to speak to her. A bird.. who would summon a bird?
Ora swallowed softly, and then said, "I'm sure one of them can. Quickly," She said, and started back toward where they had been tied.
She lead the way halfway back, and then caught sight of a familiar face.
"Crispin!" The dwarf darted over to him, just barely able to see in the distant fire light. She pulled him aside, a little ways from the orc with her, and started whispering fervently.
"Thank the mountain's peak! The missing orcs were missing because they joined with Sumennans to steal the crystal and their land back. Desrick has been stabbed, and everyone else arrested and tied up. I don't know if they've escaped yet or where they went if they did. I convinced half the orcs here to start a bleeding rebellion, based on a half-baked plan that was mostly tavern-talk. Evereach is in Delan, doing light knows what. We need- we need to do something- find the others, definitely, and this orc wants a bird? To send a message?" She took a breath, and tugged on Crispin's arm. "What does that even mean, a bird?"
The dwarf's dark eyes stared up at him pleadingly, but her cheeks were flushed with excitement and there was a fire in her that she hadn't felt before. She had never felt more alive, or more important, than in that moment.
SilverFlight