Tales of Salisonia :: Reboot :: [Inactive]

The man’s words were crude, short-sighted and sexist. In all honesty, Kaolin probably would have had half the mind to apologize directly to the decidedly stereotypical mans’ face if he had said anything less insulting. It made her glad that she did not have to deal with such a thing as mans’ superiority when within the tree lines of Ellegarde sequestered away from all beings with her sister.


But despite the fact that he had been incredibly predictable in his words it still chaffed.


Ignoring the dangerous prickle of her temper in the back of her mind she stared at him a moment longer before pointedly refocusing her attention on the woman. She was a curious being. Passive yet aggressive. It was clear that she would not hesitate to attack if Kaolin made a move towards them. Or specifically Him.


‘Found the security.’ She mused. Her eyes gleamed. Oh the irony of a man who held himself so high above women hiring a female as security.


She was not stupid. The sword he had was most certainly not for show and he was not a lazy noble who’d sit and wail for lost belongings if thieves fell upon him. He knew fighting. He knew ruthlessness. The cold look in his eyes spoke lifetimes of experience both good and bad. So she had not entirely dismissed him as it clearly looked but unless he threatened her she was going to leave him be.


A meaningful look was shot towards the younger girl and Keyin shrank down a little before hurriedly shuffling over to where she stood, plucking her bag of food from the sand where it had landed when she had rolled. Once she had arrived by her side Kaolin spared one more glance back at the woman before turning on her head to head back up the slope.


Her feet paused a few steps into her stride and she pondered giving them a farewell and a curt apology for her sister but decided against it. There was more than one way to insult someone. And disrespect worked wonderfully with pompous high-borns.


She was going to be having a long conversation with Keyin about her behavior.
 
Leaning over the edge of the cool rooftop precariously, Mordaedel paused to watch the scene transform into a peaceful setting as dusk painted the hem of the sky golden and magenta hues, darkening against the soft glow of street lights. Moths came floating about like bits of clouded moonlight, their small shadows overlapping, and the villagers began to disperse.


Mordaedel took her leave in the cover of the still darkness and rolled onto her palms, crouching like a cat. Bending her neck, she remove a thin chain from around it and hung the necklace on the end of her staff, flicking the glass orb charm with her index finger. Provoked, three small insects aroused inside, lighting up the dark with an eerie glow.


Sprinting across rooftops, all that could be seen of the Half-Elf was a faint outline, vaguely illuminated by a green-yellow glow trailing behind that was dangling from the end of the staff as it lie across her shoulder. Securing her hood with on hand, she leaped forward from one of the buildings, sending the glowing necklace hurling up into the air. Her rod outstretched so it would absorb the shockwave before it could hit her, she struck the ground with it and sprung off, landing with a skid on her bare feet. At just the right moment, she outstretched her arm and caught the piece of jewelry, using its sudden light to check for and bystanders. But there was not a soul to be seen.


There's no point heading back now. I might as well find an inn, if there is one that won't take much notice of my type...





Mordaedel thought she had known any source of gossip or shelter in the Kingdom of Bran, but she found in front of her a place she had never encountered before. The Dragon so-forth. She didn't really care to take notice of the name, as long as it was true to its affiliation with the word "Inn."


Replacing the chain around her neck, she slipped in inconspicuously through the wooden doors.
 
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The cloak of night was steadily falling as Sanz found himself nearing the gates of Bran. In the twilight everything seemed to be colored either a shade of violet or blood-red. Hopefully there wouldn't be too much--Sanz let out a sigh as both the guards outside the door visibly tensed at his appearance from the forest. It wasn't as if he could blame them. A six-foot tall man, with a lot of muscle, and a massive sword, just walking out of the forest from seemingly nowhere? They were right to be cautious, he just hoped it wouldn't impede his way into the city too terribly much.


"What is your business in Bran, stranger?"


The elder of the two guards spoke up as Sanz neared the gates. Sanz looked the man in his eyes, but could only grasp a hand to his own throat and slowly shake his head.


"What--You're not going to tell us?! What are you doing here?!"


The younger of the guards, and clearly the more nervous, had his spear halfway pointed at Sanz, though the guard was clearly unsure whether he should be threatening the giant of a man in front of him or not. A sigh escaped Sanz's lips, before he reached up to the scarf around his neck, and gently pulled the front down.


"Gods above--"


The elder recoiled slightly at the sight. The front of Sanz's throat, which had been hidden, was absolutely marred by scars. Chunks of the underneath tissue appeared to be missing, and it looked like it had been torn open by a bed of knives or a wild animal.


"I apologize for my companion here, we've been on edge since news from one of our towns came. Please, how can I help you?"


A town? Very possibly the town that he had passed through on his way to here. That would certainly warrant a level of caution. Sanz pointed up to the sky, then over at the sun, dipping below the horizon as this conversation went on.


"The sun . . . is setting, yes . . ."


Sanz then pointed to the spire of a city behind them, before setting one hand up against his cheek, like one might do in a lullaby.


"and . . . you wish to find accommodations for the evening?"


Sanz slowly nodded his head, glad that he was finally being let through. The guards let him pass, though Sanz made sure to pull his scarf back up around his neck before entering the city proper. Hopefully he could find some information, though it had been a long, time since he had slept in a civilized bed. One of the inns around would likely suffice. And who knows, he might even find some information about the unnatural happening there. The dragon within the den. Something of an interesting name for a tavern, but it seemed serviceable for at least one evening. Sanz made an effort to not attract undue attention when he entered . . . but it was difficult to be inconspicuous if you had white hair, were six and a half feet tall, and had a sword about the size of a small person on your back. Some of the chatter noticeable died down, and Sanz excused himself to one of the tables in the back corner, deciding that he should let his presence become less obtrusive before trying to get a room and possibly some information.
 
Elvsyr continued to lean against the stone wall(or whatever it is made of) of the Inn, like she had been all day. The sun had mostly fallen down past the horizon, some of it's light just barely visible. Night fell upon Bran quickly, and there were less citizens in the streets. Noticing a paper being carried by the wind, which happened to land near her, Elvsyr picked it up and quickly skimmed it. It was a call for help, from (insertthatplace'snamehere), something about tunnels collapsing. She rolled up the brittle paper and tucked it away, saving it to read for later. Closing her eyes, Elvsyr leaned back on the wall again.


Outside, a few people seemed to suddenly get hushed, which got Elvsyr's attention. Quickly opening her eyes, she saw what it was. A large, muscular man came into view. He carried a large sword and she guessed he was at least 6 or more feet tall, due to being a little taller than her. He caught her interest, though not in a romantic way. He walked into the Inn, which quieted down some of the chatter. With a sigh, she followed the man inside, waiting to see where he sat. Once he had taken his place, Elvsyr walked over and asked "Mind if I sit here, not many other seats and you seem like an interesting person." She sat down at the table, not waiting for a reply. "Where are you from? I don't exactly travel anywhere and this is my first time is Bran, so I don't see many folk of your stature."


((Gahhh, so tacky, but it got the meeting part over, sort of.))
 
Sanz closed his eyes within the back of the tavern, it was too bustling for his liking. In the wild, things only moved gently, or when they had to. Here it was a cluster of motion invading his pupils. He instead let his ears paint a picture around him. Not so difficult when everyone seemed to be trying to talk over everyone else to make their point, and made no effort to stifle their footsteps. The bartender's cloth running over used glasses, the man not-so-sublty trying to hit on one of the waitresses, a set of footsteps that seemed to be coming closer to him--wait what?


Sanz opened his eyes just in time to see a young woman take one of the other chairs at his table.


"Mind if I sit here? Not many other seats and you seem like an interesting person."


Interesting? Sanz had been called many things in his life, but 'interesting' was not one that popped up very often. She didn't seem to wait for his reply before sitting down, not that he could reply in a timely fashion even if she had.


"Where are you from? I don't exactly travel anywhere and this is my first time in Bran, so I don't see many folk of your stature."


Ah . . . she hadn't been around very much. Perhaps she was curious of the outside world, and talked to the most rugged-looking man she could find? Questions, questions, questions. But first, he could at least try to answer hers. Sanz let out a breath and gathered up some of the salt that was on the table, forming it into a thin sheet over the table. By pushing away lines with his finger, he was able to create a fairly recognizable visage of the forest. He gestured to it, as if to say: 'this is my origin'. It was the most honest answer he could probably give, seeing as he hadn't stayed in a solitary home for the last eleven years.
 
Elvsyr leaned her scythe against her chair and sat forward, causing it to creak. She watched the large man sitting in front of her as he took the salt located on the table and began to form it into a thin layer on the wood. He began to push away salt with his finger, which intrigued Elvsyr. She thought she could see the beginnings of trees and the like. A little while later and the man had finished. Elvsyr could easily identify a forest in the salt.


Elvsyr wondered why the man did not speak, but thought it was best to not ask. At least he communicate in some form. "A forest, eh? I'm also from one, Ellegarde in fact." She took her scythe off the chair and rest it on her lap. Leaning back, she gave a small laugh. "Ellegarde..." She thought to herself for a moment and remembered the poster from earlier. She pulled it out and read it again. Sliding it across the table over to the man, she asked "You read one of these yet? I've been thinking about helping out."
 

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✄---------------- Ғａｙｅｔｔｅ • Ӓｔｈｉｔｉａ


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❝So I'm honest, what's so bad about that? ❞

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xxxxxA girl lay motionless on the small bed of hay. Her blanket consisted of leaves that seemed to be badly sewn together, and her pillow? Her travel pack. The room she resided in was dirty and grimy, with rats scurrying about, stealing whatever scraps they got their dirty, disease-filled paws on. In the corner ceiling, a spider slowly made its home as it constructed a web to catch her prey...


xxxxxYou would think a member of The Three Elements would be living in better conditions.


xxxxx"Five more minutes, Ma...." Fayette waved her hand aimlessly against the empty air, pulling the pathetic excuse of a blanket over her head. "Ma, close the curtains... The sun's gonna dry up my blanket..." she complained, squeezing her eyes closer together as if it would block out the brightness of the flaming sun that shone throw her paneless window. "Ma, did you-" Fay sat up, rubbing her eyes, just on the verge of getting into a cranky argument with her mother for not closing the curtains. Uh, well... It wasn't like she exactly had any... curtains, that is. At least that was before Fayette came to her senses. She wasn't living with her mother anymore.





xxxxxThe young fairy sighed, a smile on her face. Today felt like it was going to be an uneventful day. No Stailer attacks, or massive earthquakes...Turning her head towards the window, she noticed a sufficient amount of pigeons flocking there, as well as a sufficient coat of white bird poop on her windowsill. "Huh." Fay jumped, er... scrambled up to her feet and made her way to the window, making an attempt to shoo the birds away, but they just stayed where they were. Fayette was confused, just for a second, when she realized that carrier pigeons were trained not to run away from the person they were delivering mail to, but why were there so many?





xxxxxCautiously, Fayette untied the message closest to her. It didn't say who it was from. "We need The Three Elements' help! There has been an attack on Nevenaria. There are Stailers swarming the city." The fairy's eyes widened. Stailers? Swarming? That can't be good. Hastily, she sent the pigeon off and opened the next letter, her fingers nearly tangling with the yarn that was tied to the bird. This time it read, "I highly suggest yourself as well as your comrades over to the city of Nevenaria. Now." There seemed to be blood splatters near the edge of the page. Fayette wanted to rush to the city at that very moment, but she stayed to read the rest of the messages. If she missed anything important, things could go terribly wrong. However, if she waited too long, things wouldn't go so well in the city.





xxxxxThere was only one pigeon left now. Fayette untied the string as quickly as possible, fumbling with the yarn before finally pulling it free. Even such a tiny piece of paper could hold the importance of the lives in an entire city. "It's too late. The Stailers have taken over. Our city is done for. Do not come, for the purpose of sparing your eyes from the sight of the death that lay in the place." There was a sufficient amount of blood on this last letter. No doubt whoever had been writing them had been close to the end of their life..





xxxxxA pang of sorrow and pierced through Fayette like an arrow to her chest. Just because she had overslept, a huge amount of lives were lost. Her previously cheerful mood dissipated, leaving behind traces of the thought of her father's death. Because she couldn't fight, because of her, her father died. And because of her, lives were lost...





xxxxxThe blank look on her face failed to show any emotion as Fayette gently set the blood-stained notes on the edge of her windowsill, and turned to face the rest of her room. So many thoughts were going on through her head, yet she didn't express any emotion. All the emotional pain was there, yet nothing seemed to register in her head that she was supposed to be crying, like any normal person would. You would think that a warrior such as her would be used to the thought of death. She could never wrap her mind around the idea of it. The thought of life, the result of two people when they fall in love... That life, just... disappearing.





xxxxxIt made her sick.





xxxxxWith a sigh, Fayette picked up the satchel she had used as a pillow the night before and slung it around her shoulder, taking one last glance at the messages before she took off, catapulting out of the window and out into the world that awaited her. It wasn't long before a poster slapped the Fayette straight in the face, nearly knocking the poor gril out of the air. "What the..." She pulled the poster from her face and held it out in front of her as she skimmed through the information. Without any reaction, Fay threw the poster behind her and faced the direction of Cantillia Mountains. If she had any emotional reaction to the collapsing of the tunnels, the fairy did a great job at hiding it. Just before she darted off, however, a young, human child obnoxiously screamed from the ground below her. "MOMMY! LOOK! It's a flying lion!" the toddler exclaimed, pointing dramatically up at Fay.





xxxxxFayette only offered a fake smile in return. Was this kid retarded? It was obvious she wasn't an animal, let alone a flying one... The girl didn't even resemble a Kahao either. Fayette scratched the back of her head, in slight embarrassment until she felt the actual lion's main that lay in a mess on her head. It finally occurred to her that she hadn't exactly taken any time to do her hair this morning. Let alone any of her usual morning routine. The fairy gave a nervous laugh, before darting away towards Cantillia Mountains as she frantically tried to comb her hair down with her bare fingers, her hands fumbling over her hair as she both flew and fixed up two messy braids that went down over her her shoulders, a feat that took her many years to master. Multi-tasking and flying, for the earth fairy was a difficult task.


xxxxxIt took some time, but she had finally made it to the Cantillia Mountains. She was there for the sole purpose of making sure no one else died on her account. The thought of a person losing their life when she had a chance to save it made her sick. And maybe she was there for a bit of pocket money as well. Slowly, Fayette stepped to the ground, observing the mess on her way down. Inside the newly created labyrinth were probably huge amounts of fallen dwarves, or heavily injured one, just waiting for death to come upon them. Fay winced, just barely. There she went again, thinking about death. With one last look around her, Fay entered the labyrinth... alone. Hopefully, today would not be the end of her life.





(( OoC:// AHA! I finally got this finished. A bit lengthy, but worth my time.

xD ))
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As the sun started to stretch over the blue canvas with speckles of white, Xer'Chi made the perfect exhale of refreshing relief. "Nothing better than this..." (It's about time to add color...) Without a doubt, she had eaten half of the bag of raw meat. Yes, raw. Only because the smokey smell of the meat would attract hostile predators and creatures unwanted to the residents of Salisonia.


She kept stomping her padded feet towards the imaginary trail to Bran, a place that the invaders might have come from. Their wrath was so evil and full of desperation, but obviously it had something to do with what us, Taurlocian Kahao have done to them. Surely, those invaders wouldn't attack if they did something wrong.





"Jachvita xyhexy jar xyo?" (What did we do?) She asked aloud to no one, before sliding down a sandy mound and continued her exhausting journey to Bran. It wasn't long before she realized that she is almost out of water, and needs it quickly otherwise she'd die from dehydration: Apparently. After pondering about such a theory, Xer'Chi faced the direction she was headed to and awaited for her arrival at Bran.
 
"Okay this is it" Arenam said to the guard, night was upon Bran now, Arenam hoped the scholar was still at the inn as at had taken him and the guard a while to find the inn hidden in between all the bustling stalls and houses. The guard looked the inn up and down before finally saying "okay but if I hear about a lizard causing havoc I'm coming straight for you" Arenam nodded and walked into the inn scoffing at the threat made at him. Arenam looked around for the scholar, Arenam only assumed he would be alone so he looked for the secluded people then narrowed it down again by guessing the scholar wasn't a walking wall like some of the men in here. After a minute or so Arenam noticed a young scrawny human wearing glasses sitting in the corner slowly sipping a glass of wine and occasionally glancing around the room obviously looking for someone, the man noticed Arenam staring and smiled before gesturing for him to come over.


The scholar eagerly pointed to a seat for Arenam to sit on, Arenam did as he asked and pulled up a stool to sit on and sat on it then placed his bag on the table. "Arenam Lacertae correct?" The scholar asked "yes, I assume you are the scholar who has offered to translate this" Arenam took the leather box protecting the scroll out of his bag and slowly removed the scroll from the leather case. The scholar buzzed with excitement and reached out to touch the scroll however Arenam slapped his hand away "this is very delicate and your hands are trembling with excitement mr...?" "Wellington, John Wellington" "an interesting name, anyway mr Wellington you will be paid afterwards" "okay" he said staring at the scroll eager to get his hands on it.


After a few minutes John had read through the text on the scroll although Arenam wasn't sure if he understood it or not. "Well, do you understand it?" John sighed "I recognise the language but I can't say I understand it however I'm pretty confident a book in the library here in Bran could help me". Arenam looked at John he wasn't sure if he could completely trust him "okay but be careful with it" John grinned with glee and began to head for the door but was cut off by a scaly arm "if I find out you skipped town or sold this damned scroll I'll beat the crap out of you " Arenam calmly said, John politely nodded then left the inn.
 
He took one glance at the shadow, observing every inch and detail of her inhuman body. Of course he wasn't doing this for sexual desires, for he himself found more pleasure in figuring out someones intentions good or bad, there true nature which they don't show often, and of course how much strength they carried or advanced abilities beyond normal civilians like the annoying little wolf-girl that had tumbled along in their path. But if it hadn't been for that seemingly dull encounter, they would have never met this shadow who gave off a strong Aura of strength.


He smirked softly to himself, realizing this shadow who looked human, was in fact a Kahao like the wolf-girl and Bathelia. You would think the two women would have gotten along quite well, seeing as how there both Kahao, but what they also were was stubborn and somewhat of held a cold heart. But that could also be far from the truth as well, for this two, Bathelia and the shadow did not carry a cold heart. They carried a heavily protected heart, one you could not simply break through and damage easily, These Kahao women carried there hearts protected and prepared for almost anything, not for the sake of themselves but for the sake of the ones they loved and cherished most. These women were truly more prepared for battle with there guards always up and weapons close as can be, they were hard to understand at first but once you've figured them out, then there intentions could be seen as easily as the sun shined.


For that being said, Zilocke dismissed his sexism for the time being and decided not to scold the shadow for ignoring him or leaving without being dismissed first. The shadow had fulfilled his interest, she was the perfect solider, he could tell by the way she acted and spoke that she was knowledgeable and knew her way around a weapon. He wanted the shadow to join them on there trip, wanting to learn more about the girl and her ways, but he knew Bathelia wouldn't like it.


Women always did seem to rival against each other, even if they were the same it only made things worse.
 
Bathelia, seeming to understand the king more then most people did knew what he wanted. He wanted this girl, who held great abilities in agility, hunting, she was flexible, Etc. She was perfect, something Bathelia wasn't but both Kahao seemed to share something similar. Something she didn't know but would most likely find out later, if the two other Kahao would even join them.


Both Bathelia and Kaolin were raised with nothing much in there life, no wealth, no real understanding of this world and its intentions, and when people say if your good enough the gods try to give you the best and then you end up with the worst of events happening to you. You wonder what you did wrong for these things to happen, why me? What did i do? Is there a real god up there who is looking after me or have they all cast me aside? Bathelia always wondered this things when she was young, but soon forgot about it as soon as she picked up her first book. And thats were the line splits between Bathelia and this new found Kahao girl. Bathelia wondered if the girl even knew how to read, she seemed to rely on her animal instincts more than her own knowledge of things. This is what made them so different, this is what Bathelia didn't like about the girl, she was ignorant and nothing more than a common mutt. But what she did next was shocking and quite understandable.


Bathelia sighed softly as she looked down at her bare feet and slightly raised her had, grabbing her white hood. She didn't know why she was revealing herself to the Kahao, she hated being reminded of her race for where she was raised and seeing the world now, she believed most people who held knowledge were the humans and the lowest were Kahao, seeing as they chose to live in a dessert and never exploring. Kaolin was a perfect example of someone who held no knowledge or so she thought.


Finally she pulled back her hood and revealed her short horns that laid on top of her head, along with the long ears that resembled to a gazelles. She raised her head and looked at the two Kahao girls but mostly at the older one, looking deep into her eyes just to get a final decision, on whether to not trust her or put some faith in the girl. Her decision was made.


"Please...For the sake of the child, i think it would be best if you join us in our journey. We have plenty of water supplies and our food supplies should do us well for now." She only said these words because she new Zilocke wanted the two to stay, she also knew the boy wasn't good with complimenting or giving out nice gestures more than once a day. She knew the boy was already tired of acting nice for one day.
 
Ellegarde? So she hadn't been raised in Bran. Though he could probably have guessed that much by the way the young lady dressed. She may have just started traveling. That would explain her curiosity. Sanz raised an eyebrow when the young woman handed him a sheet of paper. What was this, a flyer?


. . .


An earthquake that caused dwarven tunnels to collapse? He had never heard tell of a tremor that strong in his lifetime. The dwarves supposedly knew all about the mountains . . . unless something had changed . . . his mind wandered back to the derelict town he had passed on his way to Bran. His brow was furrowed slightly in thought as he reached down and pulled out a pen from his belt. On the back of the sheet, in fairly poor penmanship, was a single sentence:


"Do you know of a small town near here? It was not more than a half-day's walk from the gates."
 
Elvsyr waited as he read the paper. She watched as he finished and pulled out a pen. Turning the paper over, he wrote a sentence.


"Do you know of a small town near here? It was not more than a half-day's walk from the gates." It read. Elvsyr began to nod her head no but then recalled all of the talk between people she heard throughout the day. "Actually, yes. What was it's name? Nev... something." She thought for a moment trying to remember. "Nevenarius! I don't know too much other than gossip from the townsfolk but wasn't there a large attack on the town?" She hadn't thought much of it but was now interested, and again, sat forward on her chair, her arms on the table. She tapped the table slowly.
 
Mordaedel posted herself at a seat near a window, the pale slivers of moonlight that dared to escape the pale mass of clouds outlining her white hair with silver. Absently, she sketched out a map in the dust of the table, neglecting her drink. One X was marked over a particular area in the crude above-view of the forest, one in the desert, and a circle enclosed the Kingdom of Bran.


The Kahao's ears twisted to the side, attention averted by a particularly interesting one-sided conversation. Allowing her gaze to wander from their fixed spot out the window, she obliquely scanned the other tables until it fell on the source of the voice. An Elven woman, spontaneously spilling words to a suspicious, silent man. Her golden eyes flashed under her hood, focusing on the movement of her mouth as she listened to the low whispers and leaned back against the wall.
 
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As the last Stailer fell, Vyra's breathing came out in intense exhales. The once sturdy pickaxe was now reduced to pieces, the tool nothing more than a stick covered in small amounts of the remaining steel. It was no surprise that the pickaxe had ended up in the condition that it did. The tool was meant for mining ore veins, not combating against beings like this.


As he breathed, one of the fallen Stailer's twitched. It appeared that it still had some of its unholy life and was planning on reforming itself. As the twitching became more rapid, Vyra drove what was left of the pickaxe through the Stailer's head, piercing its helm. After doing so, he fell to his knees, his hands curled around the bottom surface of the tool.


His breathing slowed, but the intensity remained. His hair fell over his face, the rain blocking his vision.


The white shirt he wore was tattered, a result of multiple close encounters. Of course he had sustained wounds from this fight. There wasn't a person on this earth who could make it out of the situation he was in unscathed. He had no armor and no weapons, surrounded by Stailers. It was a miracle he had survived at all. The cuts on his face stung, but the rain falling from the darkening sky lessining the stinging sensation. It was almost if it was trying to comfort him, letting him know that he had done well. However, the scent that filled the air and the clotting at his skin made him think otherwise.


Fires raged and buildings had been destroyed. The once prospering area of Nevenarius that lied on the outskirts of the prosperous kingdom of Bran was now indistinguishable. It looked like a brutal war had been fought here, but that was not so. A war required two opposing sides that knew the circumstances of the event. This was a massacre. Bodies lined the streets and the crackling embers roared in his ears. The unpleasant taste of iron invaded his palate. The scent of the crimson covering the once pure white of his shirt filled his nostrils with the repugnant odor of death. The fact that the blood did not belong to him, but rather the red that the rain had washed away from the dead and over to his area, made the situation feel much worse. Rather than seeing the rain as a force meant to wash away the impurities and let the valiant fighter know that he had done well, he knew what this really signified.


He gritted his teeth as his blistered hands grasped the handle of the pickaxe tightly. He ignored the stinging sensation of his open wounds and the feeling of the caked blood covering his palms rubbing aganst the surface. The sticky red refusing to leave his hands made him play the scenes over and over in his palms. The rain was meant to comfort him? He didn't do a damn thing. While others were slaughtered, he could do nothing besides defend himself. The rain was not to reassure him and provide comfort, it was meant to signify despair. The precipitation fell like the tears that fell from the eyes of Eona, Godess of the Sea. Like she had cried over her despair from being rejected, she cried now for the loss of the area that held the name of the one who held her affections.


Vyra knelt there for what seemed like an eternity. Every moment was spent thinking about how he might've been able to prevent this. If he had brought his equipment, if he had ran to those people instead of following Tulius, and maybe if he had tried harder to think, then perhaps this event wouldn't of happened. Of course, none of the blame could be placed on this young man. He was put in a situation where even his own survival didn't seem likely. However, when you're right there and witness everything, only able to keep yourself from meeting the same fate as innocent civilians who were sprouting without just moments before, you tend to think about you could've done rather than what you were able to do.


As he stayed there, the black bag over his shoulder twitched a bit. Miraculously, it was still in perfect condition. Even in the midst of battle, Vyra had managed to instinctively protect it. He turned his head slightly and looked at the the moving shape. The bag began to radiate heat from within. It wasn't the same heat that raged off the roaring fires that surrounded him. No, this heat was warm and comforting, like the warmth of mother's heart that all infants were attuned to and felt comfort from its beats. A small, weak smile came upon his lips as he felt the heat fill his being. He placed a hand on the bag and closed his eyes. "Thank you."
 
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Well, that had been a bit of a disappointment. Her animal side had been looking for more of a reaction but it was most likely for the best. Engaging in frivolous fights for the enjoyment and adrenaline did not bode well for survival.


Kaolin appraised the both of them once again, from over her shoulder, not bothering to turn to fully face the two. They were a peculiar pair, at first they seemed like opposites and yet the more they interacted the more she was convinced that they were made up of similarities and dissimilarities that kept them circling each other. Not quite opposites balancing each other out but in a way they reached their own sort of equilibrium. In a detached sort of way she was curious as to how such a relationship worked and how long it would continue to work. She had never grown out of her guilty pleasure of watching people from her younger years when such a skill was essential and their dynamics would make an excellent show. Of course, she only watched to learn and mimic. What would she stand to learn from watching beings such as this? Greed? Prejudice?


A voice in the back of her head reminded her that they were indeed trained in fighting so there had to be Something useful.


She stubbornly shook it off.


The woman believed that her show of kinship would change her perspective somehow. Form a tie of emotion or loyalty perhaps? How utterly foolish. Her lashes fell over her eyes halfway and she took her time tracing her gaze over the animal characteristics 'Bathelia'-- a name she had heard the man call her when her sister fell towards them-- had revealed. Her facial features, still obscured from their view save from her eyes, took on a decidedly sadistic quality that projected itself as a hunger for violence and something else within her stare. All the female had in common with her was race, something that belonged to her human side. Her animal however... saliva began to gather in her mouth. It was a bit ironic that her appeal to kinship in an attempt to utilize her animal half had only set her firmly as 'prey' in the eyes of Kaolins' second nature.


Why would a predator deign to travel with prey?


'Other than to hunt it from a different perspective, perhaps...' she thought, eyeing the horns and ears once again.


She forced herself away from those ponderings as she let her logic take hold for a second. No doubt Keyins' vote would be for them to travel together. The cub was still learning that material objects were not the most valuable in life. So she didn't even check her facial expressions for an answer. Traveling with them would be beneficial. They had skills to survive in this area so they would help, not hinder their progress. Bigger, armed groups also deterred many cowardly thieves and thugs. Her gaze shuttered as she drew further into her calculations. A bigger food supply meant a larger margin for errors and delays. Water was something they were in need of, though she was loathe to admit it; they could last a few days more but they were not used to this sort of heat and Keyin did not exercise self-discipline well. She did not like the way the 'Bathelia' insinuated that she was unfit to take care of the child with her words but turning her offering away just for that would prove it, for a stable and responsible guardian thought of the child first.


That left her at the outcome of joining up with them.


Her mouth settled into a downturned line, lips pressing together harshly. Her instincts were flaring and rebelling enthusiastically against such a line of action but she had learned in her days of kit-hood that her instincts were not always right when it came to human interference.


But that left the fact that this was a misbalanced trade.


'There must be a hitch'


What the woman proposed was a traveling arrangement that only benefitted she and Keyin. More supplies, more protection, and they most likely had a better way of navigation since the man had the power to 'call his men' for such menial tasks as looking after a woman. Her eyebrow twitched but she forced her ire away.


Turning to fully face them, Kaolin eyed them distrustfully, though it would be hard to separate the feral hunger that still lingered in her irises from such a subtle emotion. "Conditions? she stated more than asked. And when she remembered that they would not be as good at reading what she wanted from her body-language as Keyin was she elaborated further. "We are the only ones standing to gain anything from such an arrangement. What do you ask in return?"


Besides her Keyin looked up at her elder sibling with wide excited eyes. That was as good as a shout of agreement from anyone else.
 
Gaia Render Savnendor~ Border of Ellegarde entering Bran's market plaza.


The snack hissed at her before pulling away from the glass. "My father...your friend. I highly doubt this, he is a predator of mass destruction. Everything is a meal in his eyes yet you seem to have befriended him. A low human like yourself doing su-." The snake was caught off by the bang of the glass. Gaia slamming her palm into it before standing up. The beads that laid upon her garments dangled , clanking against one another. "I AM A HIGH ELF...do not compare me to these low humans that are nothing but filth." The snake had jumped and was already on the other side of the glass. Gaia had licked her hair away as she turned on the tips of her toes. Giving her a graceful look as if she was bout to fly. Before she left she looked back at the snake with a glare that would pierce a soul. "know your place worm, I am not the one in a glass box."


Gaia had left the market plaza. She had no clue , or whom se needed to meet with. Her frustration soon began to rise as she heard little boys whisper amongst one another. Usually it wouldn't bother many people but in her defense , when one pointes and chatters it is a sign of disrespect. She had to watch her emotions or at least in front of children. She had no intentions of giving them a lick of her anger, pleasing their child like behavior. She had moved forward, now walking down the stone path and further into the market. She knew she was deep enough for she started to see the hill that made the transition from the market and to the homes ,and castle. She sighed though, growing tired of walking on stone. It would hurt her feet and the sun would burn it when she stepped on something that was not dirt or the original stone path, something darker that was placed after every sixth stone. "How irritating." She muttered. "How so." She tilted her head up, knowing no one would stop to speak to her. It was Griffin. "This place...the forest is my home, I am most relaxed and calm there. My feet cry out to me and my skin screams for shade by the trees. My eyes weep to all the landmarks here, not a lick of forest beauty that I could stop and watch.


More importantly , my heart aches for home." It was silent for a good five minutes until she heard a caw. "Then come home Gaia, enough of this foolishness. Your mission was to seek out new worlds not to stay in them. This person you seek is probably not in here. Escape from that place and I will give you a ride through the forest." Gaia had stopped , many people moving past her while some waved their fist in the air. Yelling her to keep moving or don't stop in the middle. She was contemplating on moving, on going back. Dropping this whole act. This was no place for her, the forest where she could hear the rushing waters. The happy leaves of the trees and the animals that run because they are free. She was soon to turn around until she saw the shop keeper from before. Her eyes narrowed as she stood there. Griffin whined making her ears twitch. "Are you coming or not." Gaia hissed when her and he made eye contact. "...shop keeper , followed me." The shop keeper gave her a nasty glare that turned in to eyes that wanted power. "Human's are foolish to accept their thoughts. Capturing me is futile, touching my body is futile, thinking of me is futile."


Gaia backed away as the man inched forward. "Do I kill him or spare his pathetic soul," Gaia growled before putting her thumb up to her teeth. The man waved as he was close enough to yell out to her. "YOU ARE A HIGH ELF?" Gaia nodded her head. "YOU HAVE MAGIC?" Gaia glared more as she backed away yet he inched forward. The man folding his hands over one another as he moved closer. "I HAVE SOMETHING TO SHOW YOU."
 
The king was happy to hear that all was going his way, he knew the shadow could never refuse the offer they gave her, for she carried one great weakness that Bathelia herself also has, they were weakened by there curiosity. Bathelia had a curiosity for knowledge and the world, Kaolin had a curiosity for human interactions and such. He wondered if the girl wished to be human or did she simply see mimicking as another source for survival.


Zilocke was looking at Kaolin, he had seen a glimpse of the beast that dwell inside her soul and mind, he never had seen Bathelia have animal instincts or even a hint of an uncontrolled animal side but this was another way they were totally different. Bathelia was raised by a human mother, she grew up not knowing of her own kind and seeing Kaolin's state she clearly wasn't raised by any human or anything that knew nothing but hunting or perhaps she was raised by a pack of wolves like in fairy tales.


'Conditions?' Well this was a strange question, how could the girl have seen his intentions from the start and not know why they were giving them a free ride.


Of course what he wanted in return was something only temporarily but hopefully would grow into something more permanent. Even though most people would see, trading supplies for a most likely temporary bond was pointless, Zilocke did not and if he even had the slightest doubt in his plan he would have already left the two Kahao's to fend for themselves. Also, the things he possessed now were not rare to find where he came from, almost anything he asked for was given to him with no hesitation so he was use to getting his way and was difficult to deal with once rejected.


Zilocke walked over to the black steed, he petted it once and then reached into the saddle bag, seeming to be looking for something. A small smile appeared on his face as he finally found what he was looking for. "Here it is~" He pulled his hand out, holding a flyer that was crumbled up. "This should be plenty reason for wanting you to join us."


He walked over to the girl, a little slow so he wouldn't startle her. He didn't feel like getting attacked, he stood a foot away from the girl and held out his arm. In his hand was the flyer, he waited for the other girl to take it from his hand but she still didn't take it.


"The only condition I have is that you promise to help us in our journey. As the king of Bran i was asked to go to Nevenarius and help with there situation. I may think i'm above all people but i'm not completely blinded, i know where my limits stand. Sure i have Bathelia with me but she can only carry me so far before she herself can't take the pressure. With more strength in our group i'm sure we can conquer the problem and take the money, of course our half will be going to Bran, but your half goes to you and your sister. I'm sure that will be fair and plentiful for you both, all i ask is that you do your best to protect me and fight well, i also ask that you consider to join with us and give me your loyalty. In other words become our ally and i promise only the best for you and your sister once we finish our quest and return safely to my kingdom."
 
The last of the fighters were filling out of Nevenarius, this would be the time where me and Pierre would go corpse picking. The rain was still present but it looked it was letting up. I didn't want to go out just yet and be mistaken for a looter by the people who failed to protect yet tried nonetheless to protect Nevenarius from Stailers. I simply can't accept that the town was attacked so near the capital, where was the military in all this? Could the frontier wilderness of Ellegarde push itself past all the border towns that a demon attack occurs in an inner town? Or did our ruler just really not care about their subjects. It wasn't worth the stress, what started as a simply fetch job turned into something else entirely.


I rose from my position and entered the town proper, so many buildings were burning and some corpses and corpse parts littered the streets of the town. The rain was merciful enough to mask the stench of the dead. I still couldn't get over the fact that I had simply abandoned my friends to the demons. I could see it in my mind's eye, the scene of the slaughter, how peaceful everything was before the slaughter and what's happening right now. In an instant I could see the bodies of several people who mattered to me and to the town of Lorebrun, it'd be hard not just for us but for most of the fringe towns to the south, Nevenarius was our prime source of foodstuffs, news and weaponry, it was a hub for all of us living near the borders or in the southern wilderness of the Ellegarde. The demons had effectively cut off a segment of the south, it may have been a coincidence or a thought out execution. I wouldn't put it past the bastards to think like we do.


I walked over to the corpse of the bartender of the Nevenarius tavern, the body felt light as I was dragging it off to the side, of course the body was simply the upper half. Pierre's heart would sink at the knowledge that the "Neven brew" is lost forever, no one could make a swill as strong as this man over here, even if he was still just a torso, he was most likely one of the most respected individuals in the southern territories aside from the town of Nevenarius, he deserved to be treated with respect.


I wonder, how many more friends did I lose today? How many more people precious to me are those things going to take? Where is the breeding ground of those fiends, I'd like to visit one and do to them what they did to home several years ago and what they did to Nevenarius which ended just a few moments ago. Pure cold fury was coursing through me, fury at those demons and at myself. They butchered my friends and I just hung back doing nothing. I should have just dove into their ranks and started slicing them to pieces, but I had to look after Pierre as well. Today was simply a bad day. I still wonder if I could have made a difference, maybe I would have to go hunting for my friends among these corpses and bury them before someone else comes along to unceremoniously dispose of the bodies.
 
Attacked . . . attacked by what? Sanz's brow furrowed as he poured over the news in his mind. The alien scent and taste of that town . . . if that indeed was the result of the attack, the assailant was not of this world. He flipped the flyer back over, looking at the cry for help that seemed to jump off the page and scream in his ears.


A town destroyed by assailants not of this world


A series of tunnels destroyed that should not have been


The pieces seemed to be putting themselves together, and Sanz was not going to miss the invaders a second time. He set the flyer back down in front of the lady before standing up, his height easily towering over her sitting form. He gave a broad smile, the easiest way he could convey Thank You.


He was able to rent a room for the night, with some difficulty in communication, and headed up the stairs.
 
Elvsyr watched as it looked like the man was thinking something over. He handed the paper back, stood up, and smiled before walking off to rent a room. Elvsyr was a little puzzled but it seemed that he was going to help, or so she thought. With a sigh, she went up to grab a beer before sitting back down. She took a large drink, the alcohol slowly rolling down her throat, clenching her thirst. She continued to sit at the table, pondering if she was for sure set on going to help out the dwarves. Swallow after swallow, and the beer was soon gone. She ordered another. Normally she did not drink like this, but for some reason was that night.


She remembered her old friend, and trainer, Arzur. Such a great old man... Why did he ever have to leave? She missed him greatly, wanting to chat with him again, be comforted by him, to practice. Her eyes got a little watery, which clouded her vision. Blinking, a tear drop fell to the flyer below, leaving an obvious dark spot. Arzur was one of her only true friends. One to whom she could tell anything. Wiping her eyes, she took another large gulp of her beer and rested back on her chair. She could already tell it was going to be a long night.
 
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Thomas knelt down slowly, as he lowered his head saying a prayer silently as he watched feet approach him, slowly. His armor, glimmering in the light as he silenced himself before he heard a voice.. " Rise, my son... You seek guidance? " As he raised his head and stood up off his right knee after kneeling down. He looked at the man who spoke to him, it was a priest, a holy man, of god, who blessed paladins before they headed off into combat or sending them on missions. " Yes father. "


He gripped his sword tightly as he glared at the priest awaiting a simple answer, which indeed was swift. He watched as the priest opened his mouth as his words would not fall upon deaf ears. " Go to the Cantillia Mountains, my son, you will find your mission there.... May the god and the church protect you, holy warrior. " Thomas bowed his head as he responded hastily. " Yes, father. I will return when what the church seeks has been done. " He slowly turned around and exited the church.
 
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