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Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

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Song's continued insistence on treating Falsedge as a serf elicited an eyeroll, but that bold and brave attitude of hers deserved some recognition. With an unseen smirk, Falsedge ran ahead of the light fae, clapping her shoulder as she passed her by. "This way."
With the surrounding cacophony of battle, it was not difficult to sneak past despite the noise of Falsedge's armor, few as they were- though, glancing back, she saw Razah and child wordlessly following as well. They stuck out like sore thumbs as non-warrior orcs, clearly not part of the band attacking Delan, but the mother had made her decision and it was no time to argue for Tomo's safety when so many others were at stake. Once they had gone around and snuck in close enough, it was clear that the assault forces were not really stopping people from going in. Falsedge wasn't going to risk being spotted by any Evereach soldiers she might have once served alongside back when she was in the regular military, however, lest they risk becoming a little more interesting . As such, she had grabbed a hood off the corpse of a fallen wood-elf they had passed by. She had committed their appearance to memory, should any family plan to go looking for them.

They made it into the temple without issue, their arrival seemingly expected by the priestesses. The sound of beastly howls and cries was like nothing the war djinn had ever heard before. Were those the forest creatures? They seem a little too... keen, and choreographed, to be natural. "Cyndabrynde's anger, huh. Would they by any chance, attack her own temple? Razah said something about you priestesses having something that could defend the town. Mind filling us in?"

Nevina Nevina SilverFlight SilverFlight
((OOC: Valac post tonight or tomorrow night))
 
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Song was upset that Razah had deigned to remain, wondering what might happen to her recently-rescued son, but opted to hold her tongue. There was just no time to argue.

She trailed after the priestess in silence, her steps light across the stone as they wove through it's passages. The noble was surprised to see the huddle of residents, turning to the acolyte who had taken over their impromptu tour, "We instruct the children of Summena to remain in one place when they are lost, so that their parents might find them easier. Would not sitting here be but a matter of time until our attackers discover this place? Is there any other populace near here where we might take these people and ask for refuge?"

Shuddering at the acolyte's cryptic words, she listened to the haunting cries from beyond the room, "Creatures..? Would they aid in the people's retreat?" Having had assumed all residents of Cyndara were 'creatures' of some manner, she hadn't realized that there would be any more dire threats than that of the people or the beasts that she had encountered during her flight with Falsedge. Certainly nothing that her companion couldn't handle, anyways.
 
Valac watched in fascination as the restorative magic worked its healing. "Every time I see it, it's the most amazing thing." He couldn't help but comment, awed. The power to heal was a gift he could only wish he had. He smiled at Hael, glad that the worst of it had passed. Nobody was at death's door anymore. Rhaine Rhaine

He had nodded at the orc woman reassuringly at her one small request. "They won't hear of you from me."

He took Pyrrhus' praise bashfully, infected by the centaur's enthusiasm. "Oh, um, least I could do!"
Desrick's answer to the centaur's question should have been an obvious one, but the orc surprised Valac with an unexpected response.
The young naga's eyes widened. How could he say that he deserved it?

With the others, he listened to Desrick's pitiful tale in silence. What could he say to make him feel better? That he had no choice? It wouldn't stop him from feeling responsible for what had happened.
"... I think, from what Rossarinya and Oralia had said, that the orcs are making a mistake here, right?" So maybe, instead of thinking of what you could have done for your people in the past, you could try focusing on what you could do to help them now. Those were the words he had in his head, but it did not seem to be his place to say them. They floated there, uncomfortably in the space between courteous personal distance and trying to be of help, until finally Lohrithe's statement about doing the right thing inspired Desrick to think of what he could do going forward. Valac relaxed a little, saved from possibly embarrassing himself in offering unsolicited advice to a stranger.
Were they still strangers, though? At which point did they stop being bystanders who just happened to be there to learn about the orc diplomat's tragic role in his people's history?

When the cry rose in the camp, he thought, perhaps this was that moment.
As he slithered forward and rose in height to have a better view of the events in the camp, a length of Valac's tail came up behind Desrick, a convenient surface to lean and push up against. After taking a good look, he glanced back to Desrick. Pyrrhus was right, this was enough of a distraction for them to escape.
"If you can hold on really tight, I can carry you..." He began, uncertainly; after all, if he was moving fast, it would be a lot of momentum whipping around. Des might end up falling off more hurt by the attempt than anything. "...But I think Pyrrhus might be a better idea. -!! Not that you should be expected to let anyone, um... sorry!" He backtracked, suddenly realizing that that he might have just suggested something offensive to centaurs. SilverFlight SilverFlight

Seeing Lohrithe go for their weapons, Valac called after him. "Don't forget my sword- Big red gem on the hilt, and Hael's staff!" He mimed the artifacts with his arms a little desperately, counting on the dark elf to retrieve his and Hael's prized possessions. Zazz Zazz Rhaine Rhaine
 
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Even sunken in dimness, cast from beyond the fire's reach, healing magic always gave off its own sort of light. It wasn't necessarily perceivable by the casual onlooker. It lived in the easing rise and fall, in the intertwining of breath, the space between moments. It wasn't so much a bending of matter as it was a firm encouragement of what already existed. Living beings had the divine, often miracle-like quality of pulling back from the vale - of fighting far beyond reasonable capability. Desrick may have believed his wound was deserved, yet even in a state of shameful contrition, his will was strong. His grasp on his life was the singular precursor that made healing possible. It was a collaboration, a relationship. There was more he had yet to do, no matter his regret.

Hael's eyes turned darker in their stillness. His lips moved beneath those old, practiced words. Focused as he was, he found himself inspirited by Pyrrhus’ presence. His energy was there as well, coiled brightly upon the surface of his mind. It rendered the burden far lighter than it might have been. As the wound closed beneath their close attention, Hael’s breathing turned slower, less laborious.

Ease came to Desrick’s form, clarity to his eyes, and it was as much a relief as the sight of the wound closing itself. With the voicing of his gratitude, Hael nodded humbly.

“You are welcome.”

”Every time I see it, it’s the most amazing thing.”

Hael looked up at the sound of Valac’s voice, quiet fondness living in his features. He gave a small smile, albeit briefly. His hands fell to his side.

“I feel much the same.”

His gaze found Pyrrhus of their own accord, and in his neutrality lived a new acquiescence. At the mention of the centaur’s preference for magic by means of music, he nodded, easy warmth touching his full mouth, though it was dampened by circumstance and residual weariness.

“I might have guessed that of you. It is a beautiful sort of magic - one that requires a certain lightness. You have that constitution. I confess, I’m a bit envious.”

Still reveling in his reclaimed freedom, Hael stretched his solid form, thick robes falling from his forearms, baring the dark tattoos that swirled close over his dark skin. His eyes were cast onward, assessing the situation further. He saw the small, bright dwarven-maid’s figure there at the edge of their horizon, silhouetted in the blazing, orange glow. He would have liked to be near her - to hear what it was she spoke. He knew, just from their brief shared experience, her manner. The orcs surrounding her seemed enthralled. There was that quality, born in grace-of-the-spoken-word, that garnered loyalty. She was an outsider, and yet her fair-minded, non-arrogant disposition compelled those around her to listen when she spoke. She was planting seeds, manipulating the tide. Soon enough, he knew they would witness the ramifications.

He straightened up, looking back as Valac offered his services to Pyrrhus, freeing him from his shackles. There was an odd sort of pride in his chest at the sight - though it was far beyond the meager selfishness of pride. It had that pleasing, admiring sort of glow, though it held none of its claim.

He said nothing, though he was filled with praise for his friend. He wished to reach out to him, yet he remained still. An onlooker, recovering still in his way. Even with Pyrrhus’ assistance, it had been no simple task to mend the violent wound. Hael had only just performed a spell minutes before, one that had taken more of his energy. He remained inward, pulling his inner strength to the forefront. The pain in his legs only sharpened his senses.

He listened, attention drawn to a quick as Desrick spoke. It was an interesting insight into his perspective, one so intertwined and all at once departed from his culture. His interest was peaked to its brim, and his eyes had hardened with his focus. The group’s leader thought his wound, so unjustly delivered, had been deserved. He noticed Lohrithe’s closeness, apparent affection resting upon his fingertips. There was a wound not yet healed, one that couldn’t be reached as easily as one drawn upon the skin.

”Uxul’s second!! I challenge you!!”

As if from a premonition, the call, boisterous, strong, willful, rose clear across the distance. The dwarf-maid had indeed been pulling strings.

It was time for action.

Hael noticed Desrick trying to rise from his place, and he came to his side to provide what aid he could, despite his own insufficiencies. He was not alone.

“Pyrrhus is right. It is time we were on our way, with no lack of haste.” His voice waned low.

He watched the drow venture forth into the dimness, nearing the flickering shadows of the tents quicker than might have been believed. Hael saw him look back, motioning to the group to join him. The coast was as clear as it was ever going to get.

“Lets go, before the tide turns from our favor again.”

Whatever had been set into motion was in infancy. Its fragility was enough to set anyone on edge. It could not be undone, caught in momentum, yet it had to be channeled in the correct direction. They must all do their part to ensure the rise did not pass beyond their bounds, or worse, turn against them.

He crept as smoothly as he could manage.


Mythee Mythee SilverFlight SilverFlight Zazz Zazz Flutterby Flutterby
 
Duran was sick and tired of not being invited to fun things. Chieftan Uxul decided, unilaterally, to go clearing the village of Delan and did not have the honor or the dignity to inform the greatest opponent of the Myst Queen's government and of the Wood Elves of his adventure. It made sense - after all, hiring Duran for a mission close to Delan would destroy the element of surprise. If Duran even stepped foot in a wood elf town he would face a storm of arrows. Duran and elves meant a fight, and Uxul did not want to advertise one.

Duran, atop his steed Rhyonar, which he stole from one of his many victims, looked over the burning town from the nearby hilltop. He could see the Orcs, always needing to light torches, were marching through most of the streets. He took off his black coated helmet and threw it into the grass. A smith had built that thing for him three days ago. He accepted the gift - it was rather nice, but he never needed nor liked having something like that which limited his vision.

He said nothing to his boar, just kicked him. Rhyonar leapt into action and charged towards the town. A gallop sped up to a sprint. The Orcish men inside the city looked at him, wide-eyed. He was recognizable by that black armor, and it was believable enough that, in a mission to exterminate the elves, Duran "poisonblade" would be involved.

"Where is Uxul?" he asked a detachment marching through the streets and setting fire to a house.

"Where is Uxul!?" he demanded

"I do not have authorization to give you that inf-"

"Then you do not have authorization to live! You need not even worry what he will think when he finds out you kept his best fighter from meeting him, for I will kill you now!" Duran demanded, staring the Orc in the face. He was lying in that entire sentence. Uxul had no idea he of all people would show up this early - Duran was lucky he was tracking down a challenger of Chieftan Tykar near Delan this morning.

The orc did not shed his pride, but simply nodded in the right direction, indicating that Uxul was near the base of the tree.

Duran kicked Rhyonar into action and raced towards the tree, which was virtually under siege. He relished in the opportunity to avenge his people, to destroy the vile Myst Queen and her priesthood who so unquestionably betrayed him!

Getting near the base of the tree, he dismounted. He straightened his back, and, for the first time in months, carried a genuine smile on his lips. He swaddled forward in his armor, as Uxul's guards turned to face the intruder.

"Uxul!" he shouted.

"Uxul! You are a hero among orcs, no matter what the soft ones say!" Duran said with genuine excitement. He had waited for years for a Chieftan of a major clan to defy the Myst Queen, who he was certain was the architect of Bloodstained Village's destruction.

"Who do you want dead?"

SilverFlight SilverFlight
 
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"Yes. Behind then... at your side now"

A low hum echoed in her mind, giving way to her surprise as she lifted her head up, higher and bolder than before as she sharply turned in the dark direction of the wood elf. His presence foreign before but familiar now. Even through the abyss, Rossarinya didn't feel alone despite seeing but a shadow. A warm shadow. It was just above a whisper, a buzzing in her ear that comforted her. A feeling she wished she could shrug off and remind herself they are not to be trusted. Yet, here she was, taking in the soothing, soft mellow voice in a cradle to keep for her own lullaby. A glow lighted inside of her chest as she closed her eyes for a brief moment, feeling her heart beat as she wondered if Cerys felt her call.

"It is time."

A light-hearted sigh escaped her lips as she smiled softly in return to Desrick's words of trying not to ruin the shirt she promised to sew for him. Tilting her head slightly to the side, Rossarinya's elven ears listened carefully to the tone of the centaur, committing his voice to memory as he spoke of his escapade. But, at the mention of the "orc code", Rossarinya's eyes twitched slightly. Her nerves were getting rattled as she impatiently wondered what exactly was the orc code and could someone explain to her what it entailed. However, when his words were directed towards her, Rossarinya stifled a light gasp as her cheeks flushed against her skin, a reaction she never thought she had in her. Hearing his words, Rossarinya could only shake her head, realising the gravity of her question if he knew Braxius. Rossarinya could only let out an amused giggle, a sound she couldn't remember the last time she made.

Nevertheless, at the sound of the orc-woman's voice, Rossarinya turned her attention towards her, focusing and picking up every piece of information. Her eyes narrowed slightly at the words she spoke in regards to Desrick's way of helping. At hearing the name Burgren, Rossarinya's eyes glanced across, looking for Ora and the orc she was with. If what the orc-woman said was true, would he help? But, at the sound of footsteps and the openings of the cage, Rossarinya found herself scooting back a tad, eyeing the blade the orc-woman held in her palm. However, seeing her free the mystique elf, Rossarinya sat completely still, frozen as she eyed the sharp weapon.

Soon enough, she was free and slowly the rest of the party was. Rossarinya slowly stood up, rubbing her wrist in slow motion as she turned to look over at Desrick, Valac, Lohr, Pyrrhus, and. . . Hael. The thought of internally speaking his name caused her stomach to twist in knots as she shook her head. Now wasn't the time. It wasn't until she heard Hael's voice once more that she snapped out of her daze.

"Rossarinya, 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."

Ah, there it was again. That voice. Invasive. Intruding. But, not a stranger. She had questions that needed answered. Did he put a spell on her? Or was it because of her? Or themselves. Magic is truly a bliss, but ignorance is not a bliss. Her teacher taught her such words. Words were not uttered yet to her, she heard it, felt it as clear as day. Even if she read an entire library, nothing could ever prepare her for the turn of events she was experiencing first-hand. It ignited a spark inside her soul. A passion.

Taking a deep breath, Rossarinya wondered how long it was since she practiced. Mother forbade it yet she did it every chance she had. Closing her eyes, Rossarinya focused, her internal thoughts weaving together as she held out her palm. Her pale hands slowly forming an ember, the first sign of a spark, as she thought of the Summenan sun and heard the chirping of the birds just above her head as she read below the shaded tree. A whisper escaped her tongue, "Let me risk a little more light." And soon, a bulb of light lit, hovering an inch over her palm as she slowly opened her eyes, slightly mesmerized for a moment before lifting the shine overhead for Pyrrhus and Hael.

Her eyes glanced over at the snake-like male as he shielded the light. But, feeling eyes on her, Rossarinya turned towards Lohr for a moment in confusion, wondering what he was thinking about. But, before she knew it, Rossarinya had a first glance at healing magic, her eyes widening in awe as Hael and Pyrrhus worked on Desrick's wound. As the loose ends were finishing up, Rossarinya slowly exhaled, willing the light to slowly dim as she allowed the magic to course through her veins once more.

Rossarinya stayed quiet as she listened to those around her speak though her attention was on Desrick. Seeing the torn look upon Desrick's face, Rossarinya paused for a moment as she took a step back, inching slightly close unconsciously to the warm body that was Hael, whether it was due to the magic or other, Rossarinya didn't make a sound.

Her ears perked as she listened to Desrick's account, the story she wanted to know and understand. By the end of Desrick's narrative, Rossarinya couldn't fathom words much less knew anything that could comfort her distraught ally. She could only shake her head in denial. Rossarinya couldn't allow Desrick to take the blame for all that had happened thus far. He didn't know!

But is that an excuse, Rossarinya? All actions has consequences whether you wanted it or not! A shrill echoed in her ear.

She couldn't allow him to feel ashamed. Rossarinya felt something boiling inside of her once again as her breath quickened. It wasn't until Lohr spoke that she found herself staring into his eyes with passivity. The drow was right. She knew he was. Elves were manipulative and cunning no matter the area. But, even if she said those words to herself many times, why had it ached when Lohr spoke about her kin in such a condescending way? Rossarinya had to believe there was a light at the end of this dark tunnel. If she couldn't believe in Desrick, then could she believe in herself? Would she be able to help her kin? Why did it matter to her now? It was because of Desrick.

Rossarinya's eyes briefly glanced towards Hael as she realised how close she had gotten to him, only to pull away in reminder that she too, thought so little of her own kin. Her head throbbed as she took this time to gather herself as she looked upon her company. It wasn't until the outcry of orcs near the fire where Ora had been caught her attention. Her eyes widened in surprise, a slight glimmer of hope enthused in her soul once more. Hearing Brugern's words of wanting to challenge the second-in-command after Uxul made Rossarinya gasp loudly. Her head whipped towards Pyrrhus as she nodded, stunned as she watched the dwarf-woman light a fire and found herself accepted among those not of her kin. Although an ass, Lassard had been true. Oralia could make a worthy leader and that only caused Rossarinya to feel inspired.

Moping and wishing would not change things. Her heart beat quickened as she felt adrenaline rushing through her once more. If she couldn't help from the outside, maybe, just maybe she could help from the inside. A thought quickly occurred in her head before Rossarinya jumped slightly from Lohr's touch as he spoke to her. Seeing the trust and faith in his eyes, Rossarinya nodded, giving a reassuring smile. "Go. Thank you."

Turning around to walk to Desrick's side, Rossarinya gently aided Desrick up, hoping to holster his left arm around her shoulder, "That's the spirit, Desrick. There's always another way. And it's never too late as long as you are alive." Rossarinya looked briefly over towards where Ora had been one last time and hoped they could meet again under better circumstances.

As she slowly walked with Desrick, Valac, Hael, and Pyrrhus, creeping away lowly from the campsite, Rossarinya whispered softly, "Desrick." She started as she turned her head towards him to gauge his attention, "You cannot give up yet. Your duty is not done. It will be different this time because. . . this time. . . you are not alone." Rossarinya softly reassured him before signaling towards all those around, willing him to understand.

"And just like you can not. I cannot either. I. . . " She started, feeling a lump form in her throat, her voice cracking slightly, "I must leave you and everyone. From where I stand, history will repeat itself over again. Just as your kin felt your betrayal. So will my kin if they do not hear from me. They are miles away and I worry that Lassard is under secret orders that other noble houses may not approve of. It's suspicious."

For the first time since she met her company, Rossarinya felt herself teary-eyed, feeling as if this may be the last time she'd ever see them again. However, she would be brave. Clearing her throat, Rossarinya took another breath, "I am of a noble merchant household and despite my insecurities, I do have influence on some parts of the market. If I can get back to Summena, perhaps there's a chance and a way to solve everything. My brothers are not here in Cyndara yet they are generals and warriors of Summena. Let me find a way."

She paused before turning around to see how far they have gotten from the campsite. Gently removing Desrick's arm from around her shoulder as she hoped to gently place him against the tree for balance on one side, Rossarinya slowly took the emerald green ornaments from her hair, extending it towards Hael, Desrick, and those around them.

"I never. . . would have thought to see magic so up close. But in times like these, I have read in books various forms of communication. Some use birds, much like I do when I had to send a message to my teacher in secret. However, it is easily picked up by Summenans." Rossarinya said, taking in the expression of those around her, "I may not know much of how to enchant, but, like mirrors, these gems show reflection and sometimes, you can hear the other side. Perhaps these can be useful if the company were to be split up again." She paused before jokingly saying, "Reminds me of secret equipment spies or assassins use."

Her life was not in a book but out here. Perhaps it is time to use her knowledge than storing it away, causing it to be useless.

tags: SilverFlight SilverFlight , Flutterby Flutterby , Rhaine Rhaine , Zazz Zazz , Mythee Mythee , Nevina Nevina , Archie Archie
 
After his own sword and pack, the first thing the drow retrieved was a staff. The wood elf's staff. He took it, and the jeweled sword of the naga, and handed them to Hael as he approached. He crept back into the tent for more, and like this, he emptied it of their belongings. Rossarinya and Desrick were nowhere to be seen, so he took his friend's axe and the elven lady's bow.

Once everyone else had their belongings, Lohrithe looked to his companions. "Now what?" He wished Falsedge were with them. She would know what to do. Lohrithe glanced the way of the orc battle about to take place. He wanted to make sure Ora was safe, too. He felt lost without Desrick by his side.
 
Crispin let himself be pulled, his surpised expression growing into disbelief followed by a look of pure bewilderment as Ora explain everything.
"You...you convinced orcs?" A look of abject admiration filled his green eyes.
"A bird. Yes of course." He whistled a single shrill note and waited. Out of the gloom a short whistle replied and a messenger bird appeared. Its orange crest flashed up once as it landed on Crispin's outstrwtched arm a d took in the surroundings.
"Come on, let's go give that orc a bird."

The orc woman grinned when they came back. White tusks flashing in the firelight. She allowed the animal onto her arm.
"I will send the nearby clans a message. Tell them what has happened, and what you told us small warrior. Now, you should rejoin your friends and go. See what you can do to help in Delan.
Flutterby Flutterby

Burgren and Uxul's second circled each other warily, then came together like storm fronts. The fight looked about even, until a strike from Burgren shattered the handle of the other orc's mace. There was only a few moments more and then Burgren was the only one standing, chest heaving. He held up his weapon and his small band cheered. The other orcs looked grim, but they would follow.
Rhaine Rhaine Zazz Zazz Mythee Mythee deer deer

((I will be doing this in parts. Don't reply just yet, I hope to get all parts up soon.))
 
The priestess in the temple of Delan looked uncomfortable.
"There is a way of defending the town...you must understand the town for us means its people."
Another monster screamed into the darkness, jarring her for a moment.
"The beasts...would attack anything or anyone they saw...save for the walls of the goddess' home. They will not attack the temple."
Razah meanwhile had found her elven husband. She embraced him fiercely.
"I must go help these brave warriors. Take care of our son."
She turned her back on his angry protests and returned to stand by Falsedge.
"If we can rile the monsters up enough we can bait them into attacking Delan. Once inside they will destroy everything, but it might just save the crystal. So..."
She shouldered her bow, a hunting knife now strapped to her belt. "Are you with me?"
She gestured back to the passage, offering for them to lead the way.
((You both can take the lead now here if you like))
Mythee Mythee Nevina Nevina
 
Pyrrhus smiled warmly at the awkward naga youth. "Of course my abilities as well as my back are at your service."
His face lit up when he beheld his beloved lute. He took it from Lohr's grasp and cradled it like an infant. Then he slung it over his human back.
"Ready when you are."

Meanwhile Desrick frowned as Rossa explained her plan to him.
"You make a good argument." He said with a note of regret. "I can't stop you it seems." As she handed him the gems he put his massive hand over hers before je took them. "But I can wish you safe. Be careful getting out of the forest."
The others were not far behind and Desrick signaled to them.
"Rossa must leave, but we need to get back to Delan."
It was then Desrick noticed some of the orc mounts, great boars tethered out of the light and not far away.
Pyrrhus stopped by the orc and followed his gaze.
"Hmm, perhaps you won't need to ride on my back after all..."
Mythee Mythee Zazz Zazz Rhaine Rhaine deer deer

((I'll time skip back to the village next post))

Uxul turned at the familiar voice and his face broke into a grin.
"Anything you want to kill. This village is ours now. It and everything inside it."
He clapped Duran on the back and then leaned in conspiratorially, "we stay allies with these light elves, and Cyndaran wood elves won't the the only fodder for our blades. That elf captain Lassard has made a very good offer. I'll tell you once we're ready to leave. For now, there was a scout sent to check the far perimiter of the village, where all those beasts are hovering. Go find her."
Archie Archie Yatasal Yatasal
 
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Azaria was getting used to the darkness of the Cyndaran sky, and the moist breeze through the goddess's forests. She even held a healthy respect for a bloodoak's space; she had watched from afar as the blood of high elves was spilled over roots that literally tore men apart. Azaria had been following their movements ever since she had caught wind of the whispers among the soldiers just before their departures. It was always the night before the men disappeared. Secretly, of course. The rest of Everreach was clearly unaware. Even the best of the war djinns knew nothing of these movements, from what the halfling could gather from where she hid in the shadows of the castle. No, there had definitely been something fishy about these secretive missions, and thus, the Shadowhand herself now found herself in the midst of a Mystland forest, watching a scout from her silent perch in a tree.

The town was growing darker as the great green beasts cut down the trunk of the main source of light in this dark land. Howls and screams surrounded the halfling, but she remained calm, watching her chosen target. Everreach was acting in Cyndara; that much was clear. She could practically hear the billow of their ridiculous white capes. How easy it would be to choke them with their own vanity.

Green eyes were all one could see of the halfling, if one knew exactly where to look. In her hand was a knife, dull around the edges but sharpened to a deadly point. Black, like her inky hair. Azaria was merely a shadow among shadows.
 
Ora stared blankly at Crispin when he questioned her, trying to figure out what his point was with repeating just that one part. She, in the darkness and the rush of emotions, completely misunderstood the look on his face. Yes, she had convinced orcs, not that she hadn't said anything they didn't already know.
"You can only convince people to do something they already want to do," She shot back, almost defensively, but mostly just dismissively. She eyed him as he summoned the bird, uncertain about what his expression meant.
The bird was actually a bird, to her surprise, and it appeared on cue as Crispin called it. The half-dwarf cocked an eyebrow, but didn't comment. She needed that bird, the orc needed that bird, Delan needed that bird. Nevermind how silly Crispin looked with the bitty thing perched on his arm like a pet. It even gave a little flash as it landed.
They returned, quickly, to the orc, who was pleased. She told them to go, to find the others, but Ora didn't miss what she had called her. Small warrior.

A cheer went up, near the center of the camp, and Ora squinted to see Burgren standing victorius. Her hand flew out, and clutched Crispin's forearm. She couldn't tell if she wanted to scream, cry, or run and hide.
"He did it," She whispered. It was real. There was now a force to be lead into the battle. They were really going to go fight. They were going to fight Evereach, in Cyndara. For Cyndara. There was a word for what that made her.
For a moment she was very, very still. And then she roused herself, letting Crispin go.
"Let's go, Desrick is this way."
She broke into a jog, which the tall elf could probably pace with a brisk walk, and headed back the way she had come with Burgren. A short stop in the tent told her that the others had definitely broken out- all of their stuff was gone. Stepping out, she was just able to make out their shapes from the entrance of the tent, and she waved as she approached.
As Ora picked up her weapons, she caught the end of Desrick speaking to the others. The dwarf paused, hanging at the edge of the group, as she tried to process Rossarinya leaving. There was no way it was because she supported Evereach, not with the way she had stood up to Lassard. So there must be a reason, a plan. She clenched her jaw, and pushed it aside. She gave the she-elf one look, and then approached Desrick.
"We need to hurry, Evereach isn't waiting."
 
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1537204531290.pngQuinn Averone had decided early on that the Border was going to be far more interesting than she originally supposed. Not only had it taken her much longer to get here, because of various delays and run-ins with less desirable people and creatures, but once she arrived the situation seemed to be... Well, less-than-desirable. She hadn't been informed more than that an Evereach captain in Cyndara had requested a proficient scout, and they decided to send her. She'd been given a location and a timeframe, and told to report to duty.

Once she had arrived, she was almost immediately sent away. An orc (whose name Quinn had forgotten, if she had learned it in the first place) sent her back to the perimeter with scant information and even scanter orders. Scanter? Is that a word? Eh, it is now.

Quinn stood in the tree, watching the forest below. It was far safer than the ground, which was currently full of growling and menacing creatures. After another minute in the tree, Quinn reached above her, pulling herself higher into the tree. Eventually she made her way to the top, where the tree was weakest. Still, these Cyndaran trees were strong, stronger than she would've thought.
But that's not all they were, and as soon as Quinn popped her head above the tree line a vine wrapped itself around her waist. "Well this isn't good."

A moment later Quinn was lifted out of the tree, and she immediately whipped out her hunting knife and began hacking at the vine. It recoiled at her touch, but two hacks later the vine had lifted her fully out of the tree. Quinn dangled above the tree, and she gritted her teeth as it pulled back. She reached around her waist, grabbing at a climbing hook and rope.

The vine flung her, and Quinn went on a graceful arc. Or would have, had she not dropped her climbing anchor down and yanked, securing it against the branch of another hopefully non-murderous tree. Quinn swung violently down, crashing into the tree and tangling herself in the little branches and vines and leaves. She snapped twice, and the rope whisked out of her hands, finding the anchor. It then appeared, wrapped and tied, on her hip.

Without its tension, Quinn had to hold herself in the tree. She took a breath, reorienting herself, and glanced back towards the ground. Undergrowth, no beasts. She nodded and leaned back, flipping her legs over her head and out of the tree. She landed in a crouch on the undergrowth, her boots sinking slightly into the dense mat of dead leaves and whatever else lay on the forest floor. Mist crowded the forest, making it seem evil and gloomy. Her arms and chest ached from the sudden exertion, and her heart pounded in her ears. She took another breath, and turned, jogging back towards the village.

Screw this forest and everything in it, Quinn thought bitterly. Not worst assignment ever but definitely a close second.

She made it about halfway back before she saw a tall orc coming towards her. He was incredibly well built, covered in red tattoos, and ugly as all get out. Quinn frowned, deciding a course of action. Her spy senses told her that hiding would be best, but he had already spotted her. She approached, all too aware of her diminutive size compared to him. She resheathed her knife, and glanced at the trees around them. There were a few low hanging vines. If this got ugly, she could easily use the trees as a kick board and those vines as a means of escape. Granted, the trees were apparently not too keen on outsiders climbing them, but she would be hopefully be moving too quickly for them to grab her.

Yes, because you're a monkey now. Silly me and I thought you were a half-fairy, Quinn thought to herself, amusing herself with an inner monologue. She folded her arms. "So. Come here often?"


Archie Archie
 
DURAN VO KORAG

Working with the light ones!? Uxul thought. was sharper in a way than he looked, though it was street and not book smarts. His first instinct was to work with this plan before encouraging Uxul to turn on the soft ones later, but he wa pleased to hear that Uxul already had that in mind.

"A good idea" he said,

"Elves are too clever by half" he remarked. The elves probably thought they could manipulate the stupid brutes, or however they saw orcs, into doing their bidding. Still, Duran had his doubts. How would Summenan intervention to seize the Myst throne help rally the other Orc tribes to Uxul's side? Surely only sending his best warriors to kill that sycophant Mudor Talaja in single combat would convince the Orcs that Uxul's forces are superior. Nevertheless, he hardly had heard anything, and thinking, adding time, was the surest fire route to doubt. Doubt was something, in this moment of revolution for the Orcs, that not a single champion warrior among them could afford.

He got his orders from Uxul and nodded. they were scant - is that th words the fancy ones used? However, it was not in an Orc, especially not a mercenary, to ask questions. Duran knew his market segment. He was good at killing things. He was sent to kill things. Whoever it was he needed to track down was someone who needed to be killed. He boarded his boar and kicked it into action, racing once again through the burning, smoking clouds. Orc lungs were strong, and coughed only a handful of times in the dark clouds of smoke that were drowning out the air in Delan. He looked around him. Elven and Centaur bodies were everywhere, left where they died to rot and be baked by the hot smoke. Some did not even have slash marks, but suffocated. Buildings were burning. The scene was horrible, and in his childhood he may have condemned such wanton violence. However, this was not his childhood. The Myst Queen had destroyed Bloodstained Village with her unspeakable treachery. She had promoted the most devious, two-faced family of the Orcs to rule the Great Forest, and condoned their sinister murders at a peace summit. Those who continued to obey her deserved their deaths due to their own weakness.

It did not take intellect to see the truth, but strength. When one changed his mind, he truly changed his tribe, abandoned all that he knew. Duran knew that all groups were cults in one way or another, and each was only bound by common opinion. Elves and Centaurs were weak races, who would not change their herd even if their shepherd was leading them to the slaughter. They chose their fate, and deserved their deaths.

The boar gasped as it reached the forest perimeter. Duran had been expecting to see some kind of Orc, someone who had made Uxul mad. Or, perhaps a wood elf, an enemy scout. He had nothing to go off of, but he who made his living killing Orcs for other Orcs knew how to piece the mission together as he went. This, however, was one of the light ones. She landed, and approached Duran as if he were some kind of acquaintance, some kind of friend. She did not expect death. Duran expected to have to chop at the bases of trees with his scimitar, push them over with his body strength, burn this section of the forest to smoke out prey. Instead, all he found was one of Uxul's allies.

His mind raced with the possibilities. Even when not ordered to do something, Duran always found ways to please his employers, to go the extra mile, to provide excellent customer service by executing an idea which helped their position that they did not even realize. Perhaps Uxul really just wanted Duran to bring this girl back... but what if he approached her as a friend, then stabbed her in the stomach, before ripping the blade across her chest and leaving her to bleed out? What if he told Uxul who told the light ones that she was murdered by Wood Elves? What if, then, Uxul was able to convince the light ones that travelling without the guide of an Orc who knew this forest was dangerous, which would inadvertently allow the Orcs to lead them directly into an ambush?

But no, Duran decided, this was not the time. Perhaps she was someone important to this Lassard Uxul mentioned.

"This forest," he started, stretching his arms as if he were showing a buyer his house, "was my second home when I was waging a war by myself against Chieftan Tunak. He came to Delan often to beg the witches in that tree for money, to debase himself as no Orc should" Duran declared. He heard these Summenans loved their pleasantries and small talk, and was determined to unnerve this elf by upsetting that expectation immediately.

"That -" Duran said, pointing to a grove between two trees, "is where we talked and I gave him terms. That is where he said no. The rest is history" he said.

"You are quite beautiful" he observed, characteristically blunt. "Why are you here?"

Yatasal Yatasal
 
"This forest," he started, stretching his arms as if he were showing a buyer his house, "was my second home when I was waging a war by myself against Chieftan Tunak. He came to Delan often to beg the witches in that tree for money, to debase himself as no Orc should. That--" Duran said, pointing to a grove between two trees, "is where we talked and I gave him terms. That is where he said no. The rest is history. You are quite beautiful... Why are you here?"
Quinn, for her benefit, kept a straight face through the orc's tale of woe. Although his little dropped comment about her beauty made her ears turn bright red. He didn't sound like a typical spy, trying to disarm through flattery. He said it as if it was just a fact and nothing more. Quinn was a little off-put by this, but she gathered herself and straightened herself to her full height of 5'4". "Just taking a stroll through these apparently murderous woods with a fascinating history," Quinn said, adding a sarcastic tone to fascinating. Although sarcasm probably wasn't the best response to someone who admitted to waging a war. And with that matter, what was with him just announcing himself like that? Quinn suspected that he was either lying to make himself seem important or... No, he was telling the truth. Trying to frighten her? Maybe. But he had to know his physique took care of that for him. Maybe he wasn't aware of that... Hm. And what was he doing here? Looking for her? "Come to reminisce?"
 
Hael did not speak, though he was aware of the she-elf’s gravitation. She would come near, fine-postured and seeking, then she would cast herself away as if she had just remembered she was meant to be weary of him. It was in all fairness. He had taken something without her consent - and even now, he could feel her doleful musings at the horizon of his senses. Every time he took advantage of the bridge he had built, he felt her shattered affectation. He was intruding, though she was not casting him out.

He mused with an old, wind-weary sort of speculation - just upon the brink of regret, but not quite able to manage it. Why had he taken such a liberty upon her doorstep? How had he expected she would react?

I saw the first rays of sunrise singing their promises. I flung my windows open. I did not spare a thought as to why, or whether the sun would lament in alighting my room.

The thought didn’t arise from bitterness, though, queerly, it held its slight mark. He was defensive, apologetic, and admittedly neither. He toiled under his own explanation, untrusting of his own sincerity.

….Or did I simply desire to leave a mark upon something so unblemished?

The notion sat uncomfortably upon his brow. He dispelled it.

Traveling, ungainly in his effort. They drew closer to the bonfires. The picture became clearer, firelight bringing out the red in his dark gaze. He was acutely receptive as the drow returned baring his staff.

“Thank you.”

A near-whisper. His low voice blended easily with the shuffle of earth, the wide-pitched hum of flame.

His long digits gripped tightly to his conduit. Relief touched his expression. They were returned to each other again. He felt the presence in the long scepter tremble, reach out, and come to what it could muster of peace. He made small, coaxing sounds, as if he were placating an infant. Magic was tempestuous. A gentle, patient hand was often required if a symbiotic relationship was sought.

His attention was fixed on his staff for only a few more moments, taken as Rossarinya began to speak to Desrick. He gave the respect of an averted gaze until he heard the distressed catch in her voice.

”I must leave you and everyone.”

Somehow, it was not a surprise. He had been shocked to find her here, convinced that some higher duty was waiting for her elsewhere. He hadn’t been far off.

He was struck still with her offering of the emerald jewels that had adorned her long locks. Her explanation sent a small smile to come and go from upon his lips. She offered a gateway.

”’hear the other side’ indeed,”

The wounded orc gave her his blessings and well wishes. It was reluctant. It was evident that he didn’t wish for her departure. His words were brief, but not lacking in feeling.

As Desrick’s attention turned towards the tethered boars, Hael came to Rossarinya’s side, keeping a courteous distance.

“You are needed in the Summerlands,” He nodded, speaking with lilting gentleness. It was a statement, not a question. “I have no doubt you will make the difference you seek.”

I’d imagine there is much to be lost in, even with the sun baring each detail. Remember this moment. Don’t let them snuff it out.

He wanted to hold out his hand to her, yet he couldn’t. He had already traversed too far without her call. She would have to be the one to reach, though there was little time now.

It seemed as if he desired to say more, as if something of significance rested upon his throat, yet he only managed,

“Fair flight, Rossarinya.”

Does she know what she has given? How her reflection will linger in her last ploy of aid? Stones hold traces even longer than mirrors.

Evidently the dwarven maid had returned, as he heard her strong voice cut through the dimness. Her jaw was set, and the fire of triumph raged dark in her eyes. She deserved gratitude. There was something in her look that suggested that such victories were few and far between. Perhaps she had scarcely been at the center of such things. Had she known the tides’ cruel fickleness before this moment?


deer deer SilverFlight SilverFlight Mythee Mythee Zazz Zazz Flutterby Flutterby
 
"You make a good argument. I can't stop you it seems. But I can wish you safe. Be careful getting out of the forest."

Blinking back tears that were threatening to form, Rossarinya looked down and saw how massive Desrick's hands were compared to hers. A soft chuckle escaped her lips and she nodded reassuringly, "I will be back before you know it. Especially since I owe you a shirt." She smiled, biting her lip as she hesitated for a moment before looking over to see where Pyrrhus and Desrick's attention went. Her eyes squinted slightly but she was grateful that her eyes managed to adjust in the darkness of Cyndara. However, feeling a slight warmth in her chest, Rossarinya's ears perked in another direction at the rustling of the leaves and padded footsteps. She knew that sound.

Rossarinya.

Her own name dripped from Hael's lips like a foreign words on her own tongue. Rossarinya's head drifted towards the wood elf that called out towards her in that soft, gentle tone as if he was going to spook and frighten her. Was he wary of her? Did he feel her clouded emotions and frustrations? Or did he know. . . she felt cautious of how they connected with such a short amount of time? How was it possible when she had just met him that morn'? Truly, a twist of fate, perhaps? Her brows scrunched together for a moment before she took a deep breath, the tenseness of her muscles relaxing as her eyes peaked towards an elf-kin.

It was the first time someone called out her name. The first time she wasn't addressed as just a Summenan, a she-elf, or elleth. She had a name and it was used. A word that made her belong and fit in. He called her by name and that meant more than she could ever express.

“You are needed in the Summerlands,” He nodded, speaking with lilting gentleness. I have no doubt you will make the difference you seek.”

His ressaruance ignited another spark in her soul as she nearly almost let out a choking sob, feeling so many abrupt emotions tearing apart her frame. Never in her wildest dreams would she ever thought that she would be encouraged by strangers turned acquaintances and perhaps now. . . allies. She wasn't alone and if her gems. . . her jewelry could help, that was all that matter. The littlest things.

"Thank you, Hael of Cyndara for your kind words." Rossarinya softly vocalised before her lips curved upwards into a tender smile.

Not a moment's thought, hearing Desrick call her "Rossa" brought back a flood of memories with flurries of colours varying from purple, orange, yellow, and green clouding her head. Without thinking, Rossarinya's attention was drawn back to the orc as she gently wrapped her arms around Desrick's neck, tippy-toeing, as she gave him a hug, careful not to hit his wounds.

Whispering, Rossarinya spoke quietly in his ears, "When I return, I hope to see you in your full strengths again. I will be safe, promise." At those last words, Rossarinya quickly pulled back and turned towards the rest of her company giving both Pyrrhus and Valac a 'thank you'. But, before making way in the opposite direction, Rossarinya briefly looked towards Hael.

I owe you. But, you also owe me. I'll come back to claim that debt soon. She furrowed her brows as she experimented in wonder. Would he hear her or was it her imagination?

Soon, Ora had arrived just in time with the rest of them and Rossarinya could only blink back her surprise yet tilted her head to the side, "You were brave." Rossarinya started, "Not only did you motivate the orcs, but myself as well. I wished. . . we could have gotten to know each other more." She finished quietly before internally fighting a war with herself before giving a quick hug towards Ora as well, not sure how the dwarven woman would react. But, as quick as the hug came, it was as light as a feather before she slipped and pulled away.

Brushing past Hael, as she walked, Rossarinya's fingers delicately touched his as her pinky wrapped around his briefly. "It's a promise."

Without further ado, Rossarinya quickly departed, light on her feet as she remembered her brothers' training. Never look back. And so, she did not.

Hearing the ruffles of the trees next to her as she felt her hands glowing softly, a beacon, her emerald eyes turned to look over. Cerys. He blended well in Cyndaran woods, deep as the shadow's night. It wasn't until Rossarinya noticed Lohrithe did she asked Cerys to come out slowly.

"Lohrithe," She began, "Desrick is just up ahead. I . . am not sure if you could hear what he said. But, if you had, take care of everyone." Rossarinya paused for a moment before her eyes landed on her bow. She noticed Cerys stepping to her side, nearly almost towering over her five foot and three inches stature. With a hand up, Rossarinya shook her head, "He's a friend . . must like you are now, I hope." She whispered a little towards the end before clearing her throat. "May I have my bow?" She questioned softly, waiting for him to hand her her item.

Soon, Cerys slowly bent his knee, waiting for Rossarinya to mount atop of him. Her guarded eyes stared down at Lohrithe. "Make haste." Rossarinya spoke in her native tongue towards her companion as she took her bow and arrow in hand. "Until then, be safe!" She called out to her drow-friend as Cerys sped off right, taking the trails he had both him and Rossarinya out of Cyndara and back home to House Bellethiel.

Let's fight back!

tags: SilverFlight SilverFlight , Rhaine Rhaine , Flutterby Flutterby , Zazz Zazz , Mythee Mythee
 
Valac received his sword back from Lohr- in his gratitude he momentarily forgot the drow's frightening appearance from earlier and smiled refreshingly, retrieving his prized weapon. "Stars! You found all our stuff. Lohrithe, you're amazing. And Ora, too- you're all incredible!"
He praised them without restraint, eyes sparkling, and hooked his scabbard back on his belt. Zazz Zazz

Rossarinya's expression of her will to leave- the way she had been affected by Desrick's story, and how she wished to find a way back to her family- sent pangs through the young naga's heart, who now missed his own parents and the peace of Greenhaven. But no. How could he turn back, in the midst of all of this heroism? He had made his resolve, and would not return to his family with his head hung low and his dreams left behind.

"I hope you'll find your brothers quickly, and that your travels will be safe." He came up next to Hael and inwardly scrambled to figure out something to give, some token he could offer Rossarinya- not having set out with his merchandise to find the missing orc child, the most he could do was untie a woven armband. It was made of surprisingly soft wicker, lacquered, dyed and patterned in detailed Greenhaven motifs. He held it out to her, meeting her eyes briefly before he shyly lowered them again.
"Please take this back to them. I want you to have something to show, so that they know we don't mean war... but just maybe, we could mean trade, from one merchant to another."
He made note to ask Desrick for a gem to experiment with later- picturing Greenhaven's resident mystic with her far-seeing crystal globe, he had an idea of what manner of enchantment might improve their transmitting properties. deer deer

SilverFlight SilverFlight Rhaine Rhaine Flutterby Flutterby

----

Hm. The shaksran had had an inkling, but these kinds of extreme courses of actions were just the way to open up whole new cans of worms. Of course, she held the benefit of the doubt that the priestesses knew exactly what they were proposing.
"So, suppose all of these monsters wreck the town and repel the invaders." She tilted her head. "You now have a town overrun with monsters, a whole village of mouths to feed, and no guarantee you'll be able to fight the people's way back out of here safely if the crystal doesn't make it. That right?"
And someone was expected to go lure in those monsters.
"Heh. HEHAHAHA! You must think we Sumennans are insane."
If she was in her right mind, there was no way she could be so onboard with this. If Delan fell to Evereach, the populace may be less at risk than otherwise, given that it wasn't a massacre they were after.
But to let Evereach and these traitorous orcs get away with establishing a foothold of power here... it was a unique chance to make a difference in the course of Cyndara's history. Falsedge's expression grew serious.
"You are their spiritual leaders. They will need you to give them order, regardless of what happens. If things go wrong and people here feel differently about sacrificing their town- and possibly their lives- to this plan, I'll bear the responsibility for it."
If they must direct their anger at someone, let it be the outsiders. They couldn't afford to fight between each other.
The war djinn peered at Razah joining them and let out a metallic sigh.
"I'd poke fun at you for leaving your loving folks behind, when you could be leaving the risks to those with nobody, like my unloving self. But you've got some mettle and it's good to have your help." She admitted. She could respect that bravery.
"Song, I take it you refuse to stay, too."
She threw that line to the light fae in a defeated tone.
Nevina Nevina SilverFlight SilverFlight
 
Lohrithe had not, in fact, witnessed Rossarinya's farewells until it was his turn. A great beast approached the she-elf's side, appearing to be a friend of the lass. Lohrithe stared up at it in awe, until he lowered his gaze and hefted her bow and quiver from his bare back. Confusion in his brow, the drow handed over the elegant weapon with nothing less than a gentle hand. "...Farewell, my friend. I do hope to see you again." Quickly, as she mounted the wolf, Lohrithe tugged a silver clasp from his hair and placed it in his new friend's hand. It was thin, and engraved with the image of a bird in flight. "Cyndara guide you."

He watched her go with a sadness in his heart. He wished her success in all she hoped to achieve, for she was good.

Lohrithe returned to the group looking like a sad puppy, but beamed when he caught sight of Ora and ran up to her to lift her in his arms, spin her once, then set her down. "You did it! You steered them upon the right path," he praised, grinning from ear to ear at the small woman. "What is next? What are we to do?"
 
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"What would cause the creatures to leave once they've chased away our offenders?" Song replied airily, as if speaking about one who had just insulted her shoes. Which, in her house's culture, meant there was nothing airy about it.

Pleased to see Falsedge not even bothering to argue with her, Song gave a little proud puff of her chest, "Well then, let us proceed with this folly of a plan. If your creatures are anything like your insects, I am certain they will have great taste in selecting who to dine with."

Cloak still drawn tight about her, the light fae followed the group through the labyrinth, the air chill about them as they slipped through the stone passages. Someone shifted the narrow wall of tight woven roots at the end, sturdy things that groaned quietly in complaint. The light filtering from the new portal took Song by surprise; she had forgotten how far reaching the town's center crystal was, given these dark lands - though nothing could compare to the sun who's beauty was so pure that none were permitted to look at it.

Gold eyes flashed at their open-aired surroundings, noting that they had exited at the edge of the forest. The crystal's light was dim here, the glow of the flora seemingly brighter as they stepped further into the wood. The cries of the creatures were certainly louder here. "I suppose the lot of them are just waiting for us to invite them in now?"
 
DURAN VO KORAG

"No, I am here for you actually" Duran stated, frankly. It was unclear if he was here to kill her or just to introduce her. He knew even less about the situation than she did.

"Lassard will want to meet you at once" he said, having gleaned nothing from her explanation.

He started walking back to the town, his boar still panting from the ride over. He did not know the name of this stranger and still did not know if he was meant to kill her.

"Do you have a mount?" he asked, yanking the boar by its leash and pulling his hand away as Rhyonar leaned in to bite him. Duran was a little too slow and the boar nibbled on part of his hand, so he slapped it in retaliation across the nose. Rhyonar squealed before Duran grabbed his leash again.

"Why are your people here?" Duran asked as he started to walk back to the village. He was confused by this whole scheme, but was certain that Uxul would find a way to betray his erstwhile allies before it was too late and they would get what they wanted.

Yatasal Yatasal
 
Falsedge puffed a short laugh at Song's comment about the bugs.
"From the sound of it, your presumption alone will be enough to get that horde running after us."

She marched forth, amping herself up to face impossible odds. It was certain that Song would have been safer at the temple, but her presence would up the chances of this plan's success. After all, without a beacon to guide them, a stampede of monsters with only other monsters in sight might have an unfocused direction... but that wasn't all. The light fae's presence was just so undesireable, it seemed, that it was all she needed for the adrenaline to kick in full force and allow her to put her all into such a reckless plan.

They approached the forest. The cries of the monsters intermingled with the sound of conquering forces rang aggressively like static in Falsedge's ears, making the tranquility of the air she had breathed in on her patrol last night already seem like a distant memory. She could see the beasts now, in the shadows of the trees, predatory eyes aglow.

"It looks like the crystal's light still keeps them at bay. To maximize our chances of making it back before they catch up to us, we should attract them from a distance someho-"
Somehow, while she had paused and was busy looking at the forest edge, Song had run off some ways closer to the trees already.

Nevina Nevina SilverFlight SilverFlight
 
"No, I am here for you actually" Duran stated, frankly. "Lassard will want to meet you at once. Do you have a mount? Why are your people here?"
At this, Quinn was even more on her guard. The thoughts that drifted across her mind was assassin, possibly death by beating. Maybe he would just throw her into the nearest tree, just let the forest kill her. But of course, her thoughts ran faster than her ears did--once he said Captain Lassard's name, Quinn was still on her guard but just a bit less so. She was supposed to report to Lassard, but she didn't know she'd be fetched by an orc. Or that she needed to be fetched.

The boar bit his hand, and Quinn couldn't help it. She snorted at the sight, and shook her head. "Not one as well trained as that one," she told him, clearing her throat to try and bring back the air of professionalism. This was probably one of Lassard's new allies. Although if he was really meant to fetch her, he couldn't be someone high up on the food chain. Especially since he couldn't afford a proper horse... Or did they have horses here? Probably not. Everything she had seen so far spoke of the backwards nature of Cyndara, only confirming the stories she had heard back home as a child.

"Why are your people here?" The orc asked as the two walked back to the village. Quinn frowned, and when she thought about it she didn't actually know. Evereach sent her because Lassard asked for a scout. She wasn't given any orders or really any information. Quinn guessed that she'd just have to glean that information from eavesdropped conversations and wandering in areas she wasn't supposed to go.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Quinn told him, vaulting over a large fallen tree that the orc merely stepped over. "I was ordered to come, so I followed orders. I'm guessing you're doing the same. Name's Jilaina, by the way. Jilaina Revess."

While he might have dropped Lassard's name, she certainly wasn't trusting him with her real name. Not until Lassard himself told her otherwise.


Archie Archie
 
((Collab post w/ Mythee))

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The chorus of angry cries effectively created a cacophony of terror. The creatures were there en masse: snarling, growling, snapping - a myriad creatures Song had never so much as dreamed of, all clamoring with raised hackles outside the reach of the light. It didn't look like they needed any bait to drive them into town; clearly once the crystal was dismantled, they'd invade quite readily themselves. But then, what kind of a good hostess would she be if she wasn't there to welcome her guests?

Tired of feeling the shiver down her spine, the noble fae strutted forward with swift, sure steps across the carpet of dirt and root, stopping just a few feet from some of the creatures as she shed her cloak. They regarded her with wary anger, hunched and brimming with instinct. "Well, what are you waiting for?" Song demanded, hands on hips, "You won't find any solace among Summenans, you best keep the people you already have. Get in there already!"

First a narrow snout, then a sightless head finally came into view under the crystal-light, smooth of skin with a crown of eldritch webbed digits extending from it like a crest. What followed was a long, eel-like neck, swaying between steps even as the creature's head remained fixed in space, until finally its body emerged, tall and ridged like a fish come upon land but with a pyramidal base from which two strange legs extended in bipedal gait. An eel-like tail followed, connected to the legs via webbing and almost as tall as the body itself, bristling with toxic spines that each carried faintly glowing stripes. A creature of the dark indeed.
It lunged at Song, jaws opening wide to reveal rows upon rows of needle-like teeth.

Silver flashed and Falsedge's two khopesh sliced down across the creature's neck. It cried out, reeling away, but the hooked weapons had found purchase, digging deeper as it tried to struggle from their pull, lashing its tail ineffectually behind it as the war djinn kept forward out of its reach. "Hhh-URGH-!" With finality she stamped a foot down hard, pinning its neck against the ground, and tore her weapons upward to rend through its flesh. Its head came off spinning, landing with a splat next to Song's fancy boots, adding blood to grime.

"WHAT." Falsedge's breath heaved, blood running cold from the panic of that moment. "DO. YOU. THINK. YOU. ARE. DOING." Why did she insist on offering herself up on a platter at every turn?

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"Making a point, clearly."
Song retorted, as if exasperated at having to explain this, "Now they've seen what happens when they attack me, so they are free to go attack the others instead."

The noble fae side-stepped the decapitated head, as if perfectly insulted that it deigned to land there in it's death (though not so admittedly, she was feeling oddly remorseful at it's death; a strange concept which she couldn't quite explain to herself). "Alright, so now--"

A dire fox-like beast made a dash for the glowing woman, snarling with unbridled aggression before Fals could even get mad about her companion’s inappropriate confidence.
Once again, Falsedge had the advantage of not being its target, and hacked at it with deadly force.
This was quickly followed by a rather normal-looking badger, much easier to dispose of and almost anticlimatic.

"We have to run! And why are they all attacking you? What did you-"
Falsedge's complaint was interrupted by a loud crashing noise. A scaly, wyvern-sized deer, with tusks as well as horns, had uprooted a tree in a territorial display. It charged, once again, directly at Song.
"Ohhhh shit." This was going to be a lot harder.
It was much bigger than the previous monsters, and cutting through those scales would be a challenge. The eyes, then, were the most obvious and efficient target to disable the opponent. She leapt at the deer’s neck to grapple it, wrapping her arms around it and swinging up the ends of her twin khopesh to hook each other, its impressive circumference otherwise too large. She would have begun to climb up to its head like one does up a tree by swinging a rope around its other side, but the enormous animal immediately began to buckle and thrash, and Falsedge struggled just to stay onboard.

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"Oh for the love of light, have you never had a servant? You aren't supposed to kill everything! We need them to complete my bidding!" F
urther exasperated at her partner, Song trudged up to the deer as Falsedge kept the creature company, promptly grabbing the horns from behind with a swift tug backwards.

The deer, still thrashing about, flung Song this way and that like a rag on a stick. Seeing this happen, Fals made silent curses to the great abstract of things that should never happen and swung around the base of the neck, straddling a leg around it as if riding a wild horse. She then sheathed a khopesh and reached her arm out to the flailing Song, clasping a hard around one of the light fae’s ankles the moment it entered reach, and then pulling her leg around and over the back of the neck so that she, too, could straddle it, although much further up high toward its head. Now in a more stabilized position, Falsedge could see that many other creatures had broken out of the forest, a veritable wave of them following in the deer’s wake. Instead of buckling in place continuously, it had now broken into a forward run, Song’s light shining upon its head.

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Golden hair wild and loose about her in a mass of curls, the noble fae managed to find balance after Falsedge gripped her. Song tossed her head to shift the stray hair out of her eyes, pretending she wasn’t out of breath in the least, “There. See. That wasn’t-- so hard now was it.” Her words occasionally punctuated by the galloping deer, long pale fingers still gripping the horns.

There was no time for further chatter; the creatures lunged forward in ensemble, their cries wild and raw. The wood flashed around them as the deer leapt forward with the group, quickly finding a steady pace. A crash resounded from behind them, a looming shadow domineering the rest.

A black lion, covered in glistening feathers, towered over the rest of the stampede as it came up beside them. Upon a closer look, it had the face and beak of a turtle and the horns and wings of a dragon, but its build had that muscular, feline charisma and its many-colored mane made it stand out like royalty among the other megafauna.

Song stared up in awe at the creature, then glanced back down at the deer who seemed to now ignore their presence on its back in its mad dash towards the town. The scales on the creature were smooth and glimmered alluringly in the light, it’s legs and neck long and elegant. It was pretty, in its own way, but pretty was no longer enough for Song.

“I want to ride that one.” She called out, already shifting her weight as if to stand.

This had escalated so beyond whatever expectations Falsedge could have had, and yet, they had both miraculously survived. Although the soldier was one to remain level-headed in drastic situations, she recognized that nothing, absolutely nothing in the world, could outmatch the consistency of Song’s personality. At this point, wind streaming by on their impossible mount, leading an army of frenzied wildlife like pied pipers of death with the town fast approaching, Fals had to engage her suspension of disbelief to rationally evaluate Song’s suggestion.
“Sure, hahahah!”
They’d be smaller targets for the Summenans on the monstrous lion. Dismounting at this point, surrounded by the stampede, was unthinkable. Worth a try? She sheathed her other weapon in its scabbard across her back so as to have both her arms at the ready.
"You're gonna have to let go of those horns and fall to the left."
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Since this would clearly work out in her favor, as things are wont to do for one as noble and graceful as she, Song did as asked and daintily half-slid, half-fell down the deer's neck toward Fals- who now caught and swung her with a grunt, engaging every muscle to put all of her strength into a sideward toss. The light fae was thrown at the adjacent creature, where she disappeared into its feathered mane.

One flailing arm reappeared at the top, followed by scrambling limbs as the noble fae had climbed to the top of the lion. She managed to find herself in an upright position, hair billowing behind her, gold eyes alight at the goal ahead. The war djinn was quick to join her, having leapt at the mane shortly after Song's had re-emerged, and climbed it rather more deftly. She was frazzled enough to be short for words, only managing a "Huh."
 
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Desrick took his axe gratefully from Lohr, hefting its familiar weight and replacing the blade into the empty sheath on his back.
The boars were rowdy but tame and Desrick held each so his friends could climb into the generous saddles. Burgren watched them even as he ordered the rest of the able fighters to take up arms.
He came over to them, smiling grimly. "When I reach Delan I will have to fight Uxul...I may not win that fight."
Desrick turned from his task and set his lips together in a fine line. He knew the sacrifice Burgren was likely making for helping them.
"You are a warrior." He said, "And you will be one forever."
"I should have made this choice before. It should not have taken your silver-tongued little warrior to convince me of what was honorable."
"There are a lot of things that should have been done." Desrick replied in a reserved tone. "But we must focus on what we can do now." He parroted Lohr's words with confidence, for they had struck something deep within him.
Desrick hauled himself up onto the lead boar's back, looking down at Burgren with great appreciation.
"Ride hard Desrick Larkwing Roz'kul. May your blade bring victory in blood."
They clasped hands in one final parting gesture before Desrick turned his mount to face the others and Burgren went back to lead his people.
"The enemy outnumbers us. They are fierce, and they are without mercy. But they are also in my home. They do not know it. We will use this, and we will best them."
"If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not ride one of those monsters." Crispin piped up. "I'll scout for members of the other orc tribes that might be coming to help us."
The young wood elf turned to Ora, "Be careful. Please." He said quietly, "Most orcs...are not like Desrick."
He clapped Lohrithe on the side of his arm. "Look after my stupid brother will you?"
He looked back only once, before his auburn curls vanished into the darkness.
Zazz Zazz Flutterby Flutterby Rhaine Rhaine Mythee Mythee

~*~*~

Pyrrhus bounded easily in the wake of broken branches and trampled shrubs that the boars left behind. He had offered to carry anyone that had not been confident they could manage one of the great, snorting beasts. With years of experience and a sharp mind he navigated the forest trails better than any horse could.
"So, great speech and all," He called out as he galloped to come level with Desrick's boar. "But I was wondering if we had an actual strategy here or..are we just going to charge in and hope for the best? Because I think that might end quickly...and badly."
Desrick kept his eyes on the trail ahead, dimly lit by only the fainest of glows from the nearby trees. The boars could see well and avoided every obstacle.
"We will skirt the edge of the village, take out the scouts first and try to find Delan survivors."
The bloodcurdling shriek of a monster forced him to pull his mount up sharply, Pyrrhus nearly collided headlong into the boar's flank.
They had stopped on a ridge where the light of the crystal flashed over the backs of a hoard of deadly creatures. At their head was a black lion beast, being ridden by two familiar faces.
Desrick nearly laughed despite the dire situation.
"Do you see any Evereach or orc scouts?" he asked his party, they would need to be swift before they were spotted.
Zazz Zazz Flutterby Flutterby Rhaine Rhaine Mythee Mythee Archie Archie Yatasal Yatasal

Razah kept pace with the galloping lion, still recovering from the disbelief that had come from watching Falsedge and Song bravely wrangle one beast and then the next. She struck the flank of another as it lurched past, shouting and goading the monsters into a deeper fury.
"The crystal acts as a deterrent, not a barrier," she called up to them, "when the monsters calm again and the crystal still stands it will push them off, back into the darkness of Noend. They will leave...if the crystal still stands."
Mythee Mythee Nevina Nevina

The first thing that would alert Duran and Quinn was the slight vibrations that spread over the ground and up through the limbs of every tree, then the soft rumbling. Suddenly the foliage broke and a direwolf charged, snarling and snapping straight for them. The forest was suddenly alive with angry beasts, some rounding on the scouts, others trying to dash past, heading straight for the center of the village, and the crystal. A leather-winged bat creature swooped down and angled its deadly talons at Quinn, uttering a horrid screech.
Very soon the beasts were on every side of them, cutting them off from the main forces.
Archie Archie Yatasal Yatasal
 
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