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Fantasy Terryal: The First Age of Man

Zephyr,


They had been ordered by Airrow into action upon the poor boy, and if to torture his already damaged soul they lopped his arm off and sealed the bleeding with the swiftness of a flock of birds. The action itself did not bother Raz, as he had be the source of many limbs removed and blood was just like crimson swamp water. The only thing that bothered him slightly was knowing he had forever altered the fate of such a young boy. No one deserved that. But then Zephyr deserved it neither and that boys fate was clearly intertwined with Zephyr's.


Trail Pack,


The group had barely been traveling before the rhythm of battle could be heard from away. His ear turned slightly in curiosity to listen to it before it noticeably drew the attention of Sir Airrow as well as a few others. With the initial singing of steel, it sounded as if there were a whole army. This was simply Amras’ guesstimation though.


Raz, Ruger, cover my flanks. I want Yurt and Fox to keep a tunnel open when Raz, Ruger, and myself punch through.


Hmm. Raz knew that pledging your life to a quest was one, proving your worth was another. He had done the before, and was now on the latter. He would have to prove himself worthy of this quest. Show that in the face of battle, he was powerful, fierce and loyal. Raz quickly removed himself from Scaviin but the young, red hued blond grasped at his arm to draw his attention. His ears flicked towards her before his head, but he did turn and his teal eyes met hers, questioningly as to why she would lay hands on him, as she spoke.


“Find the one that is different. Killing it might stop the process.”


She removed her hands from his fur clad arm but his expression remained neutral. Well as neutral as a tiger’s face could look and only for a few moments while he locked her words in his mind. One that is different. Though there was little time for that, Airrow was already off, down an incline and running as fast as a weapon in hand, armored man could sprint. Raz turned around from his steed and slid inbetween two others before leaping a little ways from road's edge and landing in place, behind Airrows left shoulder. He followed him in step only about a body length behind. However he was yet to draw his sword. As they ran he only kept his dominant hand on the hilt. Readying to extract his blade when the time was right.
 
Kalhalar looked on, his face impassive but his eyes sparking with interest, as they apparently saved the boy’s life. They had cut off his arm. And now the boy owed Airrow something that Airrow called a “life debt.” Kalhalar didn’t question it, though, especially since Airrow seemed to at least be willing to simply bring the boy to a place more fit to care for the child. As the group began moving forward again, he followed behind.


It wasn’t long before the sounds of a fight could soon be heard, and they soon came across three people fighting a large group of enemies. Kalhalar quickly focused on them, his gaze passing from one to the next almost randomly. They looked normal, but they were off. Those feathers surely hid something. Or maybe they didn’t, he couldn’t be sure. Still, he acknowledged his orders, returning the sage’s nod after she handed him the reins to her horse. He looked at the others, not entirely sure how well they could defend themselves if the creatures broke through. There was still fire close enough to be used, and Kal was confident in the skills of the warriors with Airrow, at least. Kalhalar kept near to the horses; they wouldn’t be spooked while he was near them. “What a random attack. What could be gained?” he spoke aloud to no one in particular, “Everything’s destroyed. Nothing can be taken. Well, except from us… But we weren't the ones attacked, anyway.”
 
Action took charge and the battle commenced. Ruger was quick to act, sword a swinging rapid and free. Amras kept a good point behind with cautious eyes. Everyone, for the most part, understood the idea of what they were supposed to do. It was time for combat. Airrow had taken to examining the opposition ahead of joining into the fray and took into account the the focus of the enemy's strengths. They were unorganized, but were much better in singular combat. If a proper phalanx or organization could be conjured from his own party then the battle would keep in their favor. If they could keep the hill, where the horses and the back units were situated, and set up a good defense there, the enemy would not be able to make much, if any, head way. Even so, Airrow felt the enemy would not hold off for even that long. He doubted the conviction of this enemy, as they seemed much more content on attacking the smallest or unarmed units they could. Now with the large party on the assault, they would have no victory.


Airrow hurried himself to keep in pace with Ruger's brash rush. He kept his spear head forward, keeping a steady charge into the backs of the hooded adversaries. With the running start, Airrow's spear pierced heavily through the shoulder of one of the hooded men. As expected, during the victim's short flight and descent towards the ground, its arm and torso began to shed and flutter in a way of disintegration of wayward black and red feathers. The feathers spent little to no time settling towards the ground, but became swept in the smooth, near to winter, breeze. And from the core of the adversary's fall torso, a small black body launches into the air, like a disturbed rodent fleeing towards the sky. This was nothing similar to what Airrow had fought before. During his short travel of the southern mainland, he had came across plenty of beasties of great queerness and danger, but none capable of such ability, and none so human in shape. Airrow found himself in a small pool of doubt, he felt this was not quite a simple monster. He felt this was, perhaps, something a large amount more disturbing.


The enemies seemed to gain attention on the oncoming party now, being as some began to turn and intercept the band of three. There was merely a thin line of hooded men between Airrow and the three assaulties. Quick work could be made of the small line.


Again, Airrow took into notice the oddness of the oncoming enemies. As one brought down its cleaver in a clumsy and slow diagonal chop aimed for Airrow's left, Airrow found enough time to simply step out of the way of the blade and quickly swing the spear to bash the hooded enemy with the butt of the spear's staff. The enemy went rearing backwards, in a groggy and unbalanced manner. Another came from the right, weapon above its head flailing with madness, yet its attention seemed divided as its position and footing seemed sidetracked and off to left. Airrow took clear advantage of this and launched his spear forward, sending the spear head into the enemy's abdomen, and into a flurry of dancing feathers. It was somewhat pretty.


For Airrow, there was a clear opening to speak with the three companions.


"Have you need of protection?" he questioned, somewhat jokingly, "Take position on the hill, sensible position for a defense when outnumbered in such a fashion. Heed my word, good gentles and fair lady!"


That was all he was capable of giving before having to return with mind on blade.


Savage, another came upon him, flailing its cleaver with wild aggravation, yet still with little focus and aim. Airrow sent the butt of the staff towards it once again, it found its place square within the shrouded face. The hooded attacker found itself on the ground, and Airrow came over him, spear helf above its torso, and into it Airrow plunged the spear head, sending the body into a mist of feathers. In a short instance, Airrow found himself catching one of the feathers and holding it within his hand for a sheer moment. He felt, even with the wind weak, the feather tore itself free from his grasp and went whirling away, into a distance he could not see. But there in a short distance he found his gaze on another hooded member, keeping safe distance, but not a suspicious length, away from the battling. What was peculiar was the circling, and the heavy attention it paid to the entirety of its enemies. It had focus, of which its counterparts lacked.
 
Fox found Yurt pretty easily, I mean how hard is it to spot the one armed man in the crowd? He nodded as he approached Yurt and asked him the best way to keep it open for the others just in case they were rushed out. Fox inhaled deeply through his nose and studied the scenery surrounding the battle nearest to them. After a moment of thought, he spotted near where they rushed through, was a spot of thick brush and then an obvious opening between two large trees. "Well, what if we designate that spot as their way of coming back just in case shit gets too overwhelming? I mean, it's like a doorway almost, so we can stand on the inside and kill any hooded creatures that come near it and keep it clear for when Airrow and the rest make their way back. If anything tries to follow them, though I doubt any will, they're doing a good job so far..." He stopped for a moment as he started to walk ahead to where he was speaking of, and gestured with his dagger in the direction of the fighters. "But if they need to abort we can file them through here, and cut down any that attempt to follow." He suggested, crossing his arms over his chest as he waited beside one of the tall oaks. "Hopefully, if they start running this way, they will see us and know to come here and not just scatter about." He added with a little smirk.


He looked over his shoulder and back at Faelynn who was staring into the field at the fight. He wouldn't tell Yurt this but of course, he also chose this spot to stay near Faelynn. The last thing he wanted was her to seek help from the female who was standing near her. She'd already messed up everything for him with what little she'd already done and, he was going to have to kill her. He didn't need her rushing the process. With that thought he returned his gaze to the battle and chewed on his bottom lip. He was glad Airrow chose for him to stay back a little. He dreaded the thought of having to obtain any injuries for a lot of people he didn't care about.


Meanwhile, Faelynn clutched the reins so tightly she felt she could possibly hurt the horse somehow. She took a deep and looked to the woman as she told her not to think of such things and hope that it doesn't come down to them having to fight. Faelynn nodded and released the reins. She was right, there was no use in worrying, besides they were all skilled fighters who could handle something like this, there was no need for her to really do anything. She frowned and looked down at the woman. She was nice, obviously cared about the kids and just seemed to give off this motherly, caring vibe that comforted Fae but at the same time, made her feel inferior. Should the need arise this woman wouldn't hesitate to fight. She was wise and not afraid to jump in and help. What could Faelynn do? Well, it's not exactly appropriate to list her talents here, but it was no good in a fight or, for most survival situations.
 
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Driving toward the third monster in the group he'd started cutting down, Az flung the axehead of his weapon at it and struck the beast in the chest. With a guttural hissing sound, the beast kneeled a bit... but didn't die. Instead, it tugged the larger male forward. "What?" he snarled, struggling for a second before rushing the other again. This time, the spear end lodged in the beast and it died screeching like the others. Spitting on the creature as it dusted away, Az turned toward a voice.


"Lovely weather is it not? Is this a private party or may I cut in?"


"Go ahead," the larger male returned, securing the cloth on his face to hide his scowl. Even one other would impede his goal to take the woman's souls. 'Damn the Gods, why now?' he growled in his mind, turning away to find more of the damned things approaching. He readied his weapon once more and began to fight again.


- - -


The three of them were fighting hard against the hoard of seemingly-unending creatures, but it was beginning to seem more and more pointless to continue. "They don't stop coming," Az grunted, ripping off the cloth on his face and wiping his eyes and mouth with it to rid the sweat. A few wounds marred his body and dripped bright blood onto the Earth, but he paid them little heed. He had a thick skin; the scars marking his form were tribute to that.


'No matter, I'll kill every last one of them... and then these two.' The thought renewed his vigor and he began fighting fiercely again when something stopped him. There were more coming. The feeling of their souls was, for just a split second, overwhelming as he fought and he only nearly blocked an incoming strike.


"I'll be damned," he spat, after slaughtering the attacking beast. A spearman rushed passed him and into the fray, followed by at least three others that he could see. The woman he'd joined at first uttered a cry of frustration at the 'reinforcements' and Azrathoth barked out a dry and humorless laugh. She was right, of course, but what could be done? He would adapt as usual. If anything, he could mean more power for him once all of this was finished.


As for now, there was nothing to do but fight on. Partially ignore the distractions. As he fought, though, he swore he'd caught murmuring talk of finding one that was a leader or controlling these hellish soldiers. 'Let them take care of it,' he thought, leaping from group to group of the beasts. It was easier to cull the herd this way - by themselves they actually put up a fight.


- - -


A voice ripped through the clashing of weapons, providing more distraction. It was the spearman from before, barking at them about protection. Azrathoth snorted at the offer. "I'll defend when I'm overwhelmed or injured, not before," he scowled, rushing into another group of the unending bags of feathers and rot. "Would one of you find whoever's leading these fool-born critters and cut their whey-faced head off?!"
 
Within a few minutes, their newly formed group had engaged the feathered enemy below. The scene might have been pretty if it weren’t for the bloody nature of the battle. Feathers, feathers everywhere, and the flash of metal weapons glinting in the sun. Okay, the blood wasn’t exactly appealing, but from her vantage point, Aesriel didn’t hear the grunting or cries of those being slashed to feathery bits.


It did, however, provide her a larger picture of the battle. The feathers lent the scene a surreal quality as Airrow and the others carved a path to the original combatants, presumably offering a way out. Unfortunately, this meant that the enemy surrounded them, however temporarily. Her fingers gripped her staff tightly as she muttered under her breath. “Retreat would be wise. Any time now...”


The attacks’ viciousness grew in proportion to the number of people in the field. This seemed to confirm her theory. With so many warriors, the monsters’ numbers should be dropping rapidly. Instead, they seemed to be growing. She muttered a curse and lifted her free hand to shield her eyes, scanning the battlefield below for any outliers. It was hard to tell with the large man’s odd axe-like weapon occasionally appearing above the fray and the woman on her horse (which the creatures didn’t seem to attack; odd. That implied intelligence, not just a wild attack on any living being…), but eventually she stopped holding her breath about the attacks below and let her gaze relax. That’s when she spotted the one hooded figure that remained static among the fray, standing amidst the attackers but far enough away to avoid the weapons of the warriors in the center.


She looked around, but telling Kal, Fae or Cyzreala wouldn’t do much good. Fox was within hearing distance, but unless he could throw that knife - and very well - it wouldn’t do. In fact, she realized belatedly, they didn’t have any archers with them at all. That might not work out well in situations just like this one. She frowned and thought on it. The fires of Zephyr were distance off, but she could draw on them. The group down below needed to see who the target was. Even if she couldn’t hit him, she might be able to bring him to the attention of the others. Or break his concentration. She stepped forward, reaching for the heat of the ground beneath their feet. The sun was brutal here and the road held quite a bit. But she needed a spark: that came from the embers still burning bright in Zephyr behind them. Meanwhile, the earth cooled rapidly in a circle beneath her feet. It was a stretch, but she felt the flame come to life in her hand. The ball of flame was small, but she wasn’t going for damage - and she wasn’t willing to pay the price required for anything larger at this point.


She took several steps down the hill to stand near Yurt and Fox, using her staff to keep from falling down the slope as she held the spell in her hand. It required concentration, so she had to pause to find her target again amongst the crowd below. It was harder to see here, but eventually she spotted the still cowl, drew her arm back, and launched the ball of flame at the one she suspected was leading or controlling the others.


Unfortunately, she had misjudged the distance. It hit the monster just before her target, lighting its feathers on fire and sending it stumbling backwards into the mysterious figure. Not my intention, but it will work. As the figure broke away, she saw it look up in her direction. Some of the monsters closest to her, Fox and Yurt suddenly looked their way and shifted their focus. Aesriel swore and grabbed her staff in both hands as she yelled to those below. “That one! It’s that one!”


Specificity would have to wait until they weren’t facing immediate attack.
 
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It was much as they expected. Human like figures, clad in feather with randomosities for weaponry. Rugger and Airrow quickly and easily dispatched a few of their own foes as all three of them charged into the fray. Raz kept his distance, covering flank yet this position seemed mostly unneeded as their foes attack straight on and headstrong. He carefully watched both his comrades as they dueled and watching ever closely. That warning he was given clear in his mind.


Just as suddenly as the fighting started, Airrow’s attention turned to one specific beast. Its manner cold, silent and calculating. Raz’s stature was taller than the rest of his party, but hunched over read to fight he was only as tall as the others, but his eyes clearly locked on target. His hunt had begun. At least until a fiend attacked his position, though aimed for Airrow. As its short sword swung wide trying to clip Raz in the process, the beastia leaned back nearly instantly as he ran. His feet slide a little as his momentum still carried him forward and the blade missed his chest by only a few inches. Kicking his armored knee up, it connected with the hand. The sword came lose and tumbled, sticking angled into the ground a few feet away.


The creature, surprised, was caught flat footed. As Raz fell from his move, his hand reached up, digging his clawed hand into the feathered beasts arm and ferociously, the tiger man spun with all his strength. He pulled the feathered beast from its footing and as he continued to spin, brought his same knee down on the creatures throat, shattering its jaw and completely crushing its windpipe. The being burst into feathers as it died, but Amras has already tumbling, coming to a nearly standing position next to the creatureless short sword from before. Continuing flawlessly, his momentum carried on.


With on last twist of his body, he handed the hilt of the weapon, withdrew it from the ground and swung it around his body in a wide arc. Bringing it 360 degrees all the way around, he released it with all his might. The blade made a whistle as it sailed, slicing through the air only inches away from both Sir Airrow and Ruger. The blade traveled with the precision of an Archer’s arrow, aimed for the chest of one creature that was ‘different’ from the rest.
 
"A man who wields a sword with no intent tarnishes not his steel. A man who swings his sword with no strength takes no heads as prizes. A man who swings with no tact looks for an early death. Feel the need to kill, put every ounce of energy into every swing, and most of all, strike to kill, not just swinging that thing wildly."


"Your timing is up! Ha ha!" Ruger's brute force butchered the creatures, cutting through them with the ease of a gale through an empty meadow. He relished in the battle, feeling the sting upon his palm as his own sword clashed with other blades. In a simple show of strength, he forced many of these monsters off-balance just by simply fending off their blows. The remorse that usually filled him when he felled the blade was missing, for these monsters were naught but soulless creatures, at least as much as he knew. Besides, they were intent on killing him , so he had to repay the debt, tenfold. Laughing jovially as he carved his way around the crowd that mobbed the party, it was not immediately clear that he was not merely thrashing around, but was strategically aiming for vital areas. Each of his kills were delivered directly to the head or the limbs, completely deabilitising or killing his foes.


His sword clashed against one of the abominations' blade. Ruger grinned, staring straight at the soulless eyes that glared back. "Is there chancing we can get it along?"


His reply was a roar that bore the stench of rotting carcasses. Ruger shrugged. "Is too bad. At least you are to be having less bad breath after today, eh?" Ruger kicked the creature in the gut, sending it reeling back into another of its companions, then proceeded to run them both through. He withdrew the sword and spun around in time to bring the blade down on the head of another who had thought it a good time to jam a knife in his unprotected back. He lifted the sword, letting the monster crumple to the ground, and was mildly perturbed when a knife zipped past his face, a hair's breadth away from nicking his nose. He turned towards the direction of where the knife flew, straight towards one of these feathered fiends. This one seemed like a different variant. A slightly different shade, and trying to stay away from the main fight as possible. The gears in Ruger's head clicked. Whether the knife struck the target or not, Ruger grasped his sword with both hands and charged straight ahead towards this one, shoving all others aside with impunity. "This is very bad day for you, feather face, so why do you not just go with the flocking off?!" Ruger batted aside a fiend in his way with the back of his hand, and swung his blade at the creature, a look of unnaturally bright glee in his eyes.
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She was finally starting to feel her breathe getting heavier as her gaze drifted upon her attacker. Lorelai couldn't help but look closer at the beast, its nails, its armor and its hollow eyes. It reminded her, strangely, of herself. Controlled unknowingly by someone else, she didn't chose her actions no more. No, they were chosen for her as all she was told to do was to find him. Her soul begging her to find him and end the pain she was in, to avenge those she loved.


Grasping Dante's reins tighter, her eyes set on the monstrosities in front of her, her dangling left leg slowly getting closer to the horse stomach as she gave him a gentle nudge. Like a brewing storm, Dante set off full speed, Lorelai's body following his ups and downs. Her sword connected briefly with the monsters neck, before she skidded to the right, avoiding her 32th foe. Her last foe as she rushed past the beast, leaving a trail of feathers behind as Dante ran to the blurry figures in front of him. "I'll go ahead and join your friends, Ser."





She called out to the fool which offered her a chance to escape. Her eyes darted to the battle, calculating the men's strength while she let her loyal companion slow down to a trot. They were formidable, she could see but for now her only concern was the one who had caught sight of her father. Her eyes lingering on him for but a second before she turned to the small group ahead. Lorelai did notice, rather quickly, the prvok user in their ranks.


Problem number two.





Skidding to a stop, she let her gaze wander in between them, noticing another female and a child amongst them. A child, which she would not harm unless she needed to. They were too many for her to handle, especially as they had a Sage, she believed, among them. Heck, she didn't even know what they were capable of, the lady may very well be a Mancer for all she knew. "You seem to be short in hands of help..." She stated, and with a whisper from her lips, Dante turned half-way, Lorelai not sheathing her sword just yet.


That fool better get himself killed or I'll have to do the honor myself...





[Cue suckish postie. All I could muster for now, though don't worry. Once we get out of this deadlock situation, Lorelai will be full of surprise.]
 
The feathered adversary pushed its burning lookalike aside, as it burst into a mass of feathers, each singed by the sage's fire. It looked at the sage, peering with its hidden eyes. Its eyes, covered by the darkness of the hood, blazed like daggers at the sage upon the hill. It only took its attention away when it recognized the large bestia charging towards it. It braced itself with weapon ready to parry while back peddling to reduce the impact of the tiger's swing. When the bestia landed the hit, the hooded fiend was lifted from the ground and sent a few feet back, but kept its balance when landing. It regained its stature quickly, but not quick enough to avoid or defend from the oncoming Ruger. The hooded fiend reared back as Ruger's blade went across its chest, scrapping a small flurry of feathers from its torso and into the air. The fiend continued retreating in a back peddle in an attempt to escape Ruger's onslaught.


Finally, the fiend's legs and waist burst into feathers and its torso went into the air. The lookalikes began to shatter into clouds of black and red feathers, each circulating towards the main fiend until creating a mass sphere of plumes. The wind around the area began to gather and spin, sucking towards the sphere of feathers. Airrow tried to speak passed the sounds of the heavy wind but to no avail; the winds pulled and pushed into the sphere's core. It kept on in a vortex until all the air rose from the ground and the mass of feathers spawned the fiend, but this time the fiend was winged and began soaring towards the east at a dazzling speed, leaving small feathers in its trail. The wind eventually began to calm and the only remains of the fiend were a few feathers scattered about.


Airrow stood against his spear and heaved his breathes. The battle had got his blood pumping, but the roaring winds were enough to shake his stance and steadiness. He took a moment to relax before moving from his spot. The spectacle that had happened was not common, not common at all. He knew of no creature capable of such abilities. No beast comprised of feathers and could control each other like a hive mind. It was definitely troubling, this event.


He brushed some hair from his forehead and steadied himself. His face felt somewhat numb, the air whipping against it left him somewhat cold and stingy. He looked around a few times for any feathers felt, and only found a miniscule few scattered here and there. Airrow knew nothing of birds, he doubted his ability in learning anything about the fiend from the remains left behind. He turned his attention away from the former adversary and to its targets. The lady had ridden her horse uphill to rally with the rest of the party, but the two males were still there with Airrow.


"Hoh there, good men, I have questions for each," Airrow began, "Those fiends, they came upon you, did they not. Pray tell, have you any idea why?"


Airrow gave a glance to Ruger and Amras, "We should head up hill," He turned back to the two strangers, "in case they return, I mean. I have friends and supplies. If you are wounded we can help, and it would be a better place to speak."


The light in the sky began to dim, dusk was on them, there would be so few lights to guide them in due time.


"Another suggestion, if you would allow, perhaps you would like to set camp with us. I feel the fiend would not dare strike again while we are in such great number."
 
Clearly no one below had heard her. Even the leader of those monstrosities had only seemed to notice her when his flaming companion stumbled upon him. Under other circumstances, Aesriel would have noted that the others below had been working the problem and discovered the leader on their own. As it was, though, she had her hands full.


The monsters pressed their attack. Fox, Yurt and Aesriel were suddenly surrounded by a fury of feathers and claws. Aesriel smacked one in the throat with the butt of her staff before spinning around and cutting out the legs of another. Yurt and Fox were similarly busy, and she had only a few moments to start thinking of what kind of spell might help before their advisories erupted into a flurry of feathers. She had been about to strike at one of the monsters who suddenly vaporized, and so her hit went wild and she nearly stumbled down the hill. The sight of the feathers swirling around below took her breath away - or would have, if she hadn’t already been winded. Uncertain whether this was a reprieve or whether the enemy was forming a new attack, she watched with a tense stance. Then the fiend took off in a flurry of wings to the east.


A draw. It wasn’t the best outcome, but at least they weren’t headed east. The lady was headed up the hill as the others regrouped. She could see Airrow speaking to the others below, no doubt checking to see if they were all right. Letting loose a slow breath, she leaned on her staff and looked at Yurt. “Better than our last fight, I suppose,” she said with a weak smile.


Glancing at Fox, she nodded. The man had fought when he had to - but not before. The fact had not escaped her notice, although really it wasn’t surprising. He and Fae seemed more interested in finding a safe place than joining them on their quest to fight Crimston. She looked back at Yurt, and nodded down toward Airrow and the others, speaking more to Yurt than Fox, although she directed her question at anyone nearby. “Do you see any injured? If not, we should probably get moving.” A glance at the sky betrayed her thoughts; she didn’t want to linger long here. The battle had probably been visible from some distance, and the creature - or creatures? whatever it was - might return.
 
Yurt had decided to go with the plan of this "Fox," felt like it as good as any at the time and still allowed them to keep any of the monsters from reaching the rest of the group. He went over and took a position behind a nearby oak. He said nothing about the plan and simply followed. Yurt wasn't at his best and he feel the sluggishness wash over his body. A long absence from the battlefield could do that to a seasoned warrior, regardless of whether or not he had both arms on him. Fox seemed to have a basic grasp of tactics at least, not that a barbarian sword dancer had any grasp of tactics and strategy to begin with, just fundamental "where to strike" knowledge. Funneling the enemy into a bottle neck seemed like an efficient way to offset the monsters' numbers.


However, retreat didn't seem necessary as Ezri had brought down fire and fury on the monsters. It incinerated most of the birdmen but there were some that managed to get close to their position. It hadn't been a long time since that sword had drank the blood of beasts, but the blade felt oddly heavy in his hands. Yurt drew the sword from its sheathe and inserted it at a birdman that was too close for comfort, the blade punched through the feathers and flesh, exited and reentered 5 more times. The blade was no longer heavy, nor was Yurt feeling sluggish as he ran the blade across the chest of another oncoming birdman and, making the sword an extension of him, feeling the blade bite through the flesh and sink in, glide to left severing any organs it may come into contact with and then breathe the deathly air once more. The remaining birdmen had been in a scramble to escape the scene of the carnage.


Ezri asked if there were any injured. It was hard to tell what with everyone in the main field of battle showered in blood. The safest answer was the vaguest answer in this case.


"The wounded? It doesn't look like there are any. Not seriously wounded at least."
 
Fox had to admit, he was pretty proud of his idea and the fact that Yurt didn't argue or try to suggest another way only made his sense of pride grow a little larger. As the battle raged on yards away, Fox took the moment to lean against the other large oak and nonchalantly keep an eye on Faelynn. So far, she wasn't doing anything but sitting on the horse and staring down into the fight. Good, she should be too nervous to do much.


Fox looked back in the direction of the fight and almost took a face full of feathers as a few of them broke from the rest and attempted to break past Yurt and himself. Fox's dagger left it's sheath on his lower back so fast his arm probably looked a blur to anyone watching but to Fox's satisfaction, Yurt pretty much took care of them. The only thing Fox really had to do was take care of the one or two that neared himself, he didn't really care if Yurt was okay or not. I mean, Yurt was definitely able to take care of himself but also, Fox didn't care about him. If anything, the lazy slashes and stabs that Fox supplied was mostly to make it appear that he was really involved, if it was all up to him, Fox would have been up in the tree just watching Fae and not moving a finger.


When it was all done Fox sighed and popped his back and looked over to see Aesriel finish a few of the feathered fiends that had gotten past them. He nodded and gave a smile as she approached. For a fleeting moment it was as if she could see straight through him, as if she had been studying him and noticed his apathy that he'd been doing so well to hide. With that moment, settled a heavy little pit in his stomach. He would have to watch this one and much to his dismay, step up his game.


"Oh, I'm not sure it looks like we have some talented fighters down there though, I'm sure they're fine." he said and whipped a piece of hair out of his face. he cleared his throat for a moment and before the conversation traveled any further, he took a small friendly bow. "Now, if you need me, I'll be with my fiance, checking to make sure she's fine, she looks very shaken up." He turned and briskly walked away back towards Faelynn who was watching all three of them with more of a curious look about her than frightened.


Faelynn watched the whole scene from atop of her friggen' horse. She didn't move a muscle to help or anything. What the hell was she supposed to do though? She didn't know how to fight not everyone could be an amazing warrior! This wasn't her place, she didn't need to be with these people, oh, if she'd just ignored Fox the night of the hunt she would have been where she belonged, with her sisters and brothers at Cloud Nine, helping them put back together their home, and supporting them through their losses. Here she was useless and soon, everyone else would feel the same way about her, if Fox didn't kill her first. God Fox, she hated him and his unpredictability scared them mess out of her. She had no idea how to keep him complacent and so far, everything she was did was wrong. She sighed and ringed her hands around the reins to keep them from shaking while watching the conversation and end of the fight go on below her. Over her shoulder every now and again she would look back at the kids to make sure they were still alive looking and when their liveliness was confirmed, she would look back at the other three. This last time she looked back, she saw Fox heading right for her, leaving the other two behind. Her heart beat faster in her chest and her stomach knotted. What did he want? Did she do something wrong?


"Guah, I hate being with these people, I should have just found a way to travel just the two of us, perhaps by now we'd be a little closer to Byzantine, instead of stopping to help every person who seems to find themselves in a little tiff with some creature." Fox grumbled as he reached Faelynn and checked her packs for some water. What he found was wine and happily, he took a gulp or two before putting the bottle back in her pack. It Didn't really matter now though, his mind was already set on what to do with her. This whole operation proved to be too tricky to keep going as planned. He would have to do away with her and then if possible, mooch a ride with these people as close to Byzantine as possible before ditching and going his own way. Until then though, he would make Fae believe that the plan to sell her was still a Go.
 
As their battle came to a close, Raz simply gazed over the field. It was as if no one was there besides a river of these red and black feathers. He coughed and some black and red down escaped his nostrils with a poof before slowly settling to the ground. The Bestia paid no attention to this as he took his leave from Sir Airrows flank and retrieved his blade from the ground a few meters away. The fine steel blade needed to be polished and cleaned, but now was not the time, he casually put it back in his sheath upon his back before returning to their caravan of sorts.


[Wow crappy post is crap. Sorry, once we get back on track i promise ill post in a more timely manner. just trying to show im still here x.x;]
 
The battle waged on, violent and taxing for Az. His size was working against him as wave after wave seemed to strike. However, just as he was beginning to finally falter in the grip on his weapon, the battle ceased. Whatever was leading them made each of the remaining fiends shatter into feathers and soared off toward the east. Azrathoth leered down at a pile of discarded feathers and spat a bloody mouthful onto it.


"Go back from the dust that you spawned from, wretches," he snarled, snapping his weapon back into it's spear form and using it to aid his walking. A male approached them and Azrathoth stared at him through half-lidded eyes, wiping blood from one as he took in the figure. "And I, for one, may have an answer." When the question came, Az grunted and thought for a moment. "They did. Or rather, they were upon the woman and horse. I was caught as I passed on my way passed the burning remains of the last city."


His answers were purposefully scarce, making it seem that he knew nothing which, to be honest, was not that far from the truth. "As for why, I have not the slightest of ideas." When he turned toward the other, Az drew a cloth from his satchel and wiped the blood and dirt from his face and eyes. The other addressed them again and he fought the urge to sneer. "Speak and supplies, yes. But my wounds I can handle later as they are of little concern."


He spat again on the ground, clearing his mouth of blood from a split lip and small gash. It was nothing, but it bled fiercely and it was beginning to test his patience. The other had spoken again and, snapping back to attention, the other gave a grim nod. "Yes, that does seem wise, at least for a short stay."


The large male lumbered up the hill towards the rest of them, eyes on each and every one, but looking for one in particular - the woman with the two souls. Not seeing her just yet, he frowned, but put on a false face of weariness, making it look as if his bitterness was due to the attack and how much it had drained him.
 
Pleasantly enough, the strangers found themselves willing to oblige Airrow's advise. Everyone began to regroup back onto the road where the defensive was prepared. Airrow sent a friendly gesture to his two companions, Amraz and Ruger, to head back to the hill then gestured for the two strangers to do the same. He spent a small moment gazing upon the east. Looking upon the mountainous wall that blocked off the Yrgen and Faernyae, behind them would be another defense of mountains leading to the plains and forests of Sorolkian territory. The great isthmus of Byzantium in its war against the diuris raiders, onward to the northern lands, Infernauingham, Dinas, Affaraon, eastward to Delfheim or northward to the northern dead lands and its indomitable countries, Asgard, Jotunheim, Agartha, and within the great flaming city their ultimate adversary there awaits. I suspected a month would be taken to cross the mountains, another to transport through both Yrgen and Faernyae, then when they retrieved a proper way of transport they would move much faster. If they kept a quick and near to constant pace, they would be able to reach the mountains within a few weeks.


This was the first day. Hopefully from this first experience of events, they would all know and understand what stood in their way. To Airrow, death would not stop them, whatever enemies are made through this endeavor will not stand in the way of his retribution. Not the day or the night.


The sun was almost completely set behind the wreckage and rubble that was now the ruins of good Zephyr. Its bright rays played and danced, teasing Airrow's eyes. The way the sun would glisten its rays off of the ocean's waters and mirror the marble and beautiful stained glass, the wondrous cathedral, the grand standing castle, the smiles and dances of the Zephyruns, the Red Wind's gorgeous lights, and the brave spears of the Djinn Wolves. It forced tears to his eyes, one for his father, two for his people, and three for the memories he had decided to leave behind. The sun had almost departed from the world, and the moon peek from the top of the mountain wall of the east. It would become Zephyr's darkest in short time. When the sun was completely departed, they would set camp.


Airrow climbed the hill after everyone else. His face was clean, if not a little red near his eyes, but that would suspected after the small battle. He had an odd tendency of keeping his face quite clean and untouched. Peculiar, especially since he lacked a helmet in most of his scuffles. He noticed that some of the group had taken initiative in checking for damage done to the members. For the most part, it seemed the only "wounds" sustained were very few and very minor bruises and small cuts, nothing too serious.


"Good friends, bear your wounds for a moment longer. We will continue our march until the sun is out from our sights and the only lights above are the stars and kind moon. Once there, we can tend to ourselves as necessary." Airrow announced to the group before quickly urging them on.


At his rush and push, they traveled a good distance from the battle ground before having to stop and set camp, or risk blindness. Airrow led them to the side of the ground and designated a spot besides a mound of rocks that would work as a wind block and a place for someone to keep watch.


"Shall we build a fire," he smiled to the group as he clapped his hands together, "and please, new friends, sit and rest, I would like to ask you some questions after we get some rest and eat, I see no problem with sharing some of our own rations with you this night." Airrow began to dig out a small spot where they could the fire, hoping someone else would take to gathering the firewood.
 
Her eyes did not waver, not for a second did they stray away as she stared at the large back of that man, his gray hair barely visible in the surrounding darkness. Her lips did not open for any discussion, and her last words still echoes in her mind as she gave the leader of the group, this Airrow, a glance. She knew of him, but did not specifically know him, and so she dare not to let her hand stay away from her hilt. One would not notice it easily but it lay flat, seemingly relaxed, at her hilt, ready for her if she saw anything suspicious.


She had murmured a quiet thanks and joined their small group for the coming day or two, but she doubted she would need to stay longer then that. The man would be dead before midnight tomorrow, and as for any witnesses, they would follow. Taking a deep breathe, she reached backwards for the backpack she had Dante carry, taking out a carrot or two from the side-pocket. Lorelai would have forgotten about the rotting head wrapped in clothing had she not felt the bump, and instantly her thoughts were centered on how to hide the scent of blood. Of death.


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


She thought of it long enough to not see the sun set and as she trudge along the fools, refusing to give up the comfort of her horse nor the time to get to know the fools for even a second. Once again, her gaze was set on the man in front of her and with one swift movement, the 'young' lady was on the ground, holding onto her companions reigns. Her footsteps were barely there but as she came closer to the hulk, she let go off the reigns and reached for the last carrot in the backpack. Snapping it two bits, she put her left hand out, facing away from the gray-head, and let her friend eat off it.


"I've been raised to give my thanks when I have to... Do not take it to heart but I feel blessed to have such luck." Her voice, a bit higher than last time, would reach the man of the name Azrathoth's ears as she gave him a unseen glare, "Such luck to be saved by a great warrior, indeed... I doubt I could have survived without you."


A small smirk grazed her lips, the only feature fully visible as her hood hid her face, only allowing the tip of her nose to be seen before a dark shadow took over. "Nadia Haynn. Truly a pleasure to have met you."


He'd be a true fool if he did not watch his back as she returned to her seat, riding over to a more secure position in the small group.


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


Lorelai slid down her horse in relief as Airrow found their resting place. She walked over to Airrow, her lips opening for the third time that night. "I'd be grateful, seems like my last rabbit had been eaten yesterday." Smiling softly, she turned her gaze to the others as she continued to speak with the man. "As for questions, I suppose I can answer one or two... Oh dear! I haven't even introduced myself, have I?"


Of course she hadn't, she had stalled it to the very last second as she secretly rolled her eyes, her voice showing real shock. "My name is Nadia. Nadia Haynn. Daughter of a farmer a bit up north, near Yrgen. I do some mercenary work around here, have some medical knowledge too or so they say... Oh! If you'd like I could treat your wounds..."


With poison that is.
 
It seemed to Kalhalar that the skirmish ended just as quickly as it had begun, though he didn’t really know when or how it had begun, as he was distracted by the young injured child when the group had come across the strangers and their adversaries. Of course, the length of the battle didn’t really matter to him, nor did the seemingly endless number of opponents faze him. Throughout the duration, he stood there casually, as if there wasn’t a ruined city behind him or a life-or-death situation ahead. His eyes, though, would flash with concern when they strayed to look upon those near to him. Even then, the concern would be gone in only a second, with nothing left to show that it had ever been there. It seemed that the other magic-wielder, Aesriel, chose to support the others as she unleased a furious fire upon the feathered fiends. His demeanor had remained unchanged until the end, when all the bodies and feathers came together as one and flew east. That had sparked curiosity, plain on his face, as his eyes followed the creature along its path. His hands unconsciously reached into his basket and pulled out a piece of bread, which he immediately began munching.


He walked on with the group as they set out, his mind still on the creature. “It couldn’t have been… but surely that couldn’t… the decrees are still… but maybe it’s… there’s more, but… could I have…” Kalhalar continuously mumbled as they walked and began to set up camp. Finally, he looked around, slightly jumping in surprise as he realized that there were new people with them, and he barely managed to catch the name of one of them: Nadia. He paused, thinking. People would get cold in the night. They would need a fire. But they couldn’t just hold fire in their hands. Well, most of them couldn’t… of course, it would be quite convenient if everyone could. How long would it take to teach everyone the basics of prvok? Even more important, how willing would everyone be to learn? And could he teach effectively? Maybe he could, but how long would it take? Would the night last that long? It could, or it couldn’t. The nights were getting longer, after all. The seasons were changing. He could tell just by looking around. Birds were leaving the area, plants were dying, and leaves were falling off the branches of trees. The trees themselves were going dormant as well, with the wood getting dryer… That’s it! He could gather dry wood. Then the dry wood could be set on fire. Immediately he set out towards some trees, his eyes on the ground to find stray branches. Eventually, he had gathered what he deemed to be a sufficient amount, and he returned to camp with the firewood in hand. “Here, I thought these would be useful. We can start a fire with these. I can get more if needed, too. Or others could. But since so many of us had participated in that last battle, it might be best for most of us to rest. So then there can’t be too many others to actually gather wood.”
 
Fox stayed as quiet as death as he walked alongside Faelynn's horse. He was of course, unhappy to see new people join their party. For him that meant more potential witnesses to his plans. It seemed that every time he had the details carefully worked out, he found more tweaking to be done. By now, he was ready to just be rid of the nuisance of a woman and be gone, only to find himself later in a warm tavern, drunk and in the arms of some other poor helpless lass. Fox grumbled as he pushed the fantasies from his mind and focused more on the road ahead. The group was slowing down to a stop and Fox barely missed Airrow mention something about camping here for the night.

Perfect.

​



Fox smiled and looked up to Faelynn who only returned a confused and suspicious look back down at him. Their eyes met, and Fox gave a small wink as he took her hand and helped (forced) her from the horse. "You hear that my love? We're settling down for the night, we should help set up the camp." He said, attempting to be loud enough for others to hear. He stopped and looked at the woman named Nadia who introduced herself right as Fox finished. He nodded to her and turned away, back to Faelynn. He could careless who she was or what she was about, although the title "mercenary" did rattle his socks a little, and not all in a bad way. He had a thing for dangerous women. He was about to suggest going to gather the firewood with Fae when he looked over and saw Kalhalar return with an arm full. He gave a small sigh and took Faelynn's hand "lovingly". All was not lost, he remembered hearing the sound of running water not far from here on the way over. That meant a river was nearby and ultimately that worked better than just killing the woman and leaving her in the woods somewhere.


"Well, Fae and I will go and gather fresh water for everyone! You can;t expect us to live off of wine, can you?!" He smiled brightly and pulled Faelynn closer to him, leaking hints that seemed as if he was also wanted romantic alone time with his fiance. With his free hand he grabbed a few empty canteens and a bucket. "We'll be right back~!" He cooed and excitedly pulled Faelynn along into the darkness with only a small torch and the moon to guide the "lovers"


As soon as they were out of ear shot, Fox dropped Fae's hand and roughly grabbed the back of her neck and pushed her along. "my my, I am very pleased with how well this whole thing is going, aren't you? Hopefully the river isn't too far from here." He smiled, becoming a little giddy. He pushed her along a little faster, moving towards the growing sound of roaring water.


Faelynn didn't say anything. What was the point? There was nothing she could do or say that could make him change his mind or let her go. It seemed that his mind was made up long ago and now she was just to ride with the flow until the chance to fight arose. Her stomach churned and her nerves left her shaky and jumpy to every little twig snapping and leaf crunching under their feet. She was scared, and rightfully so, this crazy man was going to murder her and no one would know because she was too afraid to open her stupid mouth.


"Have any regrets? Last minute requests? Ah forget them, I ain't out to help anyone fulfill anything." he smirked, the light from the torch twisting the features of his face in a shadowy glare. "Not to worry much longer though, we're here." He smiled, raising his voice above the rushing waters. From where they were they could feel the water misting their skin and the smell was over whelming but the water was no where to be seen.


"Look closer, love!" Fox growled as he grabbed Faelynn by her shoulders and shook her, pulling her close and speaking in her ear. He pulled her to the edge of what seemed to be a cliff that they'd moved closer to in the dark and, illuminated by the moon, the running rapids below roared up at her, splashing against the sides of the 20 foot drop and soaking their feet before running about 15 yards down where it spilled into a water fall that at any other time would have taken her breath away in awe but now it took it away in fear.


"Let's see if the lady of the night swims or sinks." He breathed against the back of her neck as he stealthily moved behind her and held her still as she began to reflexively attempt to move back, away from the edge but Fox was stronger and quickly, without another moment's delay, pushed the woman over the edge.


Faelynn couldn't scream. Her breath escaped her throat and for a moment everything was in slow motion. As she was thrust forward she attempted to turn and instead of gracefully falling away from the edge and leaping into the frothy water below, she scraped the edge of the drop and fell hard, her arm and stomach slamming into the ground on the way down, taking rocks and clumps of earth with her. She clenched her teeth and curled her injured arm in while closing her eyes. She heard the splash before she felt the wa-


BAM!


Faelynn didn't hit the water at all, infact she hit a little ledge that was impossible to see where they were standing above. If there was any wind left in her lungs from before the fall, it was gone now. She coughed and blinked a few times and choked on a few painful sobs that racked her sore and possibly broken body. Her arm hung over the side and in the rushing, freezing water. She shivered and cried harder as she forced her body to turn over, away from the rapids and against the wall where she curled into a ball and let the darkness take over. She couldn't keep herself awake and with the pain setting into her bones, she welcomed the unconsciousness. Perhaps, she would be okay when she woke up, perhaps she would be dead, right now she couldn't focus, she couldn't make herself care. She only wanted to sleep, so sleep she did.


About 15 feet up, Fox stood near the edge and listened as the water splashed and silence over took the area. he peeked his head over the edge to make sure the pest wasn't hanging onto a branch or something and when he saw nothing. He narrowed his eyes and examined the water and of course, saw nothing. He stood there a few moments, watching before turning his back and grabbing the bucket and canteens and throwing them to the side to make it seem as if, in a moment of panic, he tossed them. He cleared his throat and rubbed dirt on the front of his clothes before taking a deep breath and messing his hair up and letting out a long tortured scream.


"FAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!" He took ragged deep breaths and turned from the river and threw the torch into the moist ground nearest the river, plunging everything around him into darkness. Didn't matter though, he knew the way back. What kind of serial bandit-murderer-slave trader would he be if he couldn't remember a path?


It didn't take him long to find the group, all sitting or standing near the fire, getting all their shit together. Now it was time for a show.


"SOMEONE, PLEASE! FAELYNN, HELP! IT'S FAELYNN!" He yelled, tripping over nothing as he fell into the group. He hit his knees and looked straight to Airrow, the leader and so far, most gullible of their relationship.


"I-I-I Couldn't save her! It was the river! I-I-It was- it is- more dangerous than we thought- I told her, I told her not to go so close but- Oh Gods, she thought it would be fine!" He placed his head into his face to cover the smile that had been threatening to show. "She just wanted to help, she wanted to be useful! I should have made her stay.... I should have made her stayyy! She's gone, my faelynn is gone!" He sobbed, appearing helpless and smaller as he kneeled into a ball at their feet.
 
Damn it all. Ruger sighed and scuffed his pointed boots on the earth, sheathing his longsword. He was but mere inches away from rending his target. No doubt would this return to bite their rears later. Most especially his. He wondered if buying a shield at the next town they would arrive in was a wise decision. Heavy as they might be, it would probably save a lot of trouble in trying to survive what his mistake would later cost them. No matter what his decision would be then,his quarry would not evade his steel a second time. A grim promise that accompanied the many burdens already on his shoulder.


Unusually underloquacious, Ruger skirted around the rest as they decided to set up camp. He needed a breath of fresh air, not one polluted by the many scents of the various races around him. He must be picking up too much on the age department from this work. And he was barely in his 30s! Ruger mused over this with a chuckle at his mouth. "The bones that creak doth protest so." He muttered under his breath, as he rolled his shoulders and flexed his fingers in his gloves.


"FAAAAEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!"


"Ach, interruptingtions after interruptingtions. What is with this lot and their racketing, eh?" Ruger asked no one in particular, possibly the ghosts of memories that haunted him still. He turned his attention towards the cry, and recognized the owner. That Fox man with the petite beauty (though that was probably the description for most of the female companions). What was her name again? Filly? Fally?


"SOMEONE, PLEASE! FAELYNN, HELP! IT'S FAELYNN!" The Fox man stumbled around pitifully, like a wet rag with a case of brittle bones. Ruger followed his rather over the top acting directing towards the cliff edge at the end of the horizon. If he remembered, it was a nice drop into a fast flowing length of water. A nice fatal one. Or at least reportedly. None of the travellers that slipped off the edge in the dark of the night were seen from again.


Ruger calmly loosed his belt with his sword and removed his chestplate. Both hit the earth beside him, and he walked two steps back, then took a running start, before leaping into the chasm below. There was but howling wind at his ears before the icy water greeted him. As soon as the wind released its grasp on him, he was transferred into the rough hands of the current. Swept along by the powerful waves, it was all he could do to resist being overwhelmed, searching for the lady that looked like his friend.


Luck wasn't with him. When his fist hit the water with a darkly comical slap, Ruger's face was contorted into something between frustration and anger. He resisted the urge to roar out in frustration, and made his slow crawl back to land. Dripping wet and expression shaded by the dark, he brushed past Fox with the most murderous of looks.


"So muchly for taking care of fiance." He hissed, and gathered his items and slipped off to his earlier spot, where he dropped his things, along with his wet tunic at one side. He inhaled, tried to calm himself down, and laid out his tunic to dry. Death seemed to plague him at every turn. It seemed as if the curse started working a little bit too soon.
Click to expand...
 
Although they had escaped with relatively few injuries, the image of the horde of feathered monstrosities remained with Aesriel as they continued on their journey. She wracked her brain: had she heard of any creature like that? Or magic that could create it? None came to mind, no matter how many miles they put behind them. It was enough to revive her longing for the White Hand's library in Ashland. How many hours – how many years - had she spent amongst those books, with knowledge at her fingertips? It wasn’t as impressive as the great libraries reported to be held by some Mancers, but it had been useful and enough to explore in one lifetime – and she had taken it for granted. Destroyed and the last remnants sold off, it served no Sage or student any longer.


When they set up camp, she focused on the tasks at hand to avoid lingering too long on the question she could not answer. The creature or creatures had not followed them so far, and they had new companions who, if nothing else, seemed able to hold their own in a fight. They also seemed to like keeping their distance. They made Ruger’s over-the-top friendliness seem warm in comparison.


Aesriel had been tending to the horses and listening to Nadia introduce herself to Airrow when she heard Fox’s cry. She stood, stunned by his breakdown and unsure what to do. The water was moving swiftly. Could anyone survive that? Fox seemed genuinely distraught but utterly useless. Meanwhile, she saw Ruger rush to the water’s edge and … dive in? Swearing under her breath, she rushed to the water’s edge, relieved to see him emerge again, although without Faelynn. She caught his angry look at Fox, who was still curled up in a ball whimpering about his loss.


She had witnessed Fox fight – or rather choose to fight judiciously. Was he the sort to plan such an event? And what was she thinking? Fox was still crying, and she suspected him of … what? Pushing Fae into the water? Why would he even do that?


Hugging her arms around herself, she inched closer to the edge – watching her footing and peering over into the water. There was no sign of Fae, of course. Only the white swirl of rushing water and the roar of its power. She looked back toward the others. “We could search, but the best we can hope for …” she glanced briefly at Fox before looking at Airrow, “… is likely to find her body and give her a proper burial.”


Now her gaze did turn fully to Fox. “It is Airrow's decision as our leader. We don’t have much time to waste. But I assume you want to put her to rest?” She kept her tone carefully neutral, calling upon her years of presenting questions to students to test their knowledge.
 
The first to step up was the female of the three strangers. She was a small girl, she looked old enough to be on her own, but more to be accompanied by a husband. She was obviously foreign to west, or even to the Southern mainlands in general. She was slim, and carried the traits of agility. Airrow only needed to glance at her ears to notice the point, the dead giveaway of her ethnicity. It gave no bother to him, but it was questionable, due to the rescent event that had happened only some time ago. It created a suspiciousness in Airrow that seemed almost foreign to him. He knew how to read people, but he oft preferred not to, he felt wrong for judging people. She had a girly friendliness about her, motherly but in an unfamiliar way. Like a friend's bother taking temporary care of a guest. It was merely casual kindness, Airrow reminded. He was beginning to doubt even the regular courtesies.


She was obliged enough, it seemed, to agree to Airrow's suggestion, and quickly found her place in conversation. She had run out of food, and it was rabbits, game, she had been using to survive. By that meaning, it could be deduced that she was either been traveling for a far distance and had begun running dry of rations or that she was only traveling a small distance and had brought very little to begin with, and lastly that she had a home nearby, but that option was the least likely. If she had a home, there would be no reason for her to stick around, unless she wanted something extra. Airrow kept himself from growing too wary.


"Yes, the food," he smiled and nodded, "we'll cook for a warm meal once the fire is running, if you can't keep yourself until then, feel free to have some fruit." As Kalhalar arrived with some firewood of which he promptly pushed onto Airrow, gave a chance for Airrow to speak further, "simply ask good Kal here if you need any food, he should have something to snack on."


Airrow began to place the larger burnables to the side while breaking smaller bits into chips and placing them into the pit. The smaller bits would be easier to start off, then he could add in the larger bits. The girl had went on, introducing herself as Nadia Haynn, not a name Airrow honestly recognized, besides through the rambles in taverns about mercenaries. At least from that, Airrow knew she was not lying, and assured him of an earlier suspicion, she had come from a good distance away. Then it would simply open up a second question, why was she here? Airrow had an easy solution for that, if taken without much bother, she was going to sign up as a mercenary for Ur. If it was so, then she was headed in the opposite direction while she was traveling with them, but perhaps Airrow could find some use in her, if she was looking for employment, he could supply it.


"It doesn't seem like much of us are very gravely injured. Mostly bruises from what I can see, but I thank you for the concern, I'm sure if anyone needs some attention, they will request of you." He had prepared the fire pit completely by then, and began scratching at some flint with some steel.


There was some yelling in the distance, as Airrow had begun sparking the flame, and then Fox came darting from over a hill yelping on about something. It was enough for Airrow to take all his attention away from the fire and to Fox's cries. What was being described sent Airrow into a distance. He was not sure if he understood him right, but he was implying Fae's disappearance. Ruger seemed to understand what Fox was saying first and began to rush off to where fox had come from, Airrow promptly follow in a little less of a rush, but before leaving the camp, "Kal, tend to the fire and watch the camp," he instructed before disappearing over the hill. Ruger removed the heavier pieces of his dress then dived into the river. Airrow almost began to do the same, but he doubted his chances would be any better than Ruger's. Airrow had grown up at the coastal city of Zephyr, yet he found himself incapable of swimming against the over average strength of river currents. He kept to the shore, praying for Ruger's success. When he arrived, with nothing new besides the water soaking his skin and clothes, Airrow took to giving his cloak to him, wrapping it around Ruger to keep him warm.


Airrow went back to glaring at the waters, trying to eye out any abnormalities, any signs of flesh. His breathing picked up, it surprised himself, as he had began to break out into a sweat simply by staring at the water. His mind felt distracted, drawing into the past, into his time at Cloud Nine. His hands felt restless, moving from his chin, to his forehead then to his sword. He only tore himself away from the river to look at Fox, who was brought along with Aesriel, Aesri was also beginning to speak about what their option would be. Airrow quickly and roughly took Fox by the collar and overtook the man. He stood stepped up to Fox, shoving him somewhat off his weight and keeping him from falling by carrying him by the collar. Airrow's demeanor was not really of anger, but something more in confusion. It was only a quick moment, as Airrow began to pat Fox and help back to stability.


"Stay at the camp, all of you." He ordered sternly before heading to one of the less dressed horses and mounting it. "I will return before shortly, we stay to our schedule, at the first sign of sunlight we depart." He said before nudging the horse into a gallop and descended into the darkness. He followed the river, knowing full well of the outcome. Even so, he felt the need to continue, to, at least, attempt to defy fate.
 
Fox had done it and so far his ruse seemed to be working. The only people that seemed to pose a possible threat was Ruger so far. He had looked at Fox with immediate suspicion and taken off towards the river. For a fleeting moment there was a rise of panic in the murderer's chest but then he quickly let it diminish with the memory of the heavy splash and rough curent. She was dead, she had to be. Before he knew it he was climbing to his feet and being guided by Asriel back towards the place where it all took place. Airrow had gone ahead after Ruger in search of the poor lost and cold Fae. When they arrived Ruger was climbing from the river empty handed, just as Fox wanted, he dared not let the feeling of victory rise though, the last thing he needed right then was a mob of talented fighters chasing him, out for blood and all because he killed some good for nothing prostitute.


As Airrow quickly ran up to him Fox began to open his mouth to say some sorrow-filled something but before he could think of it, he was suddenly yanked by his collar and pulled closer to the confused and seemingly grief-stricken face of their groups leader. Fox was at a loss of words, it was shocking, he did not expect this behavior. No one else had lashed out at him, if anything shouldn't he fill sorry for him? After all he was the one who just lost his fiance to a terrible accident. Fox stared, mouth open in shock at Airrow but before another action could be taken by Fox, Airrow was gently pushing him away and straightening him up with a pat on the shoulder. Fox decided not to say anything, he just nodded and took a step back, almost falling onto Asriel, who was talking, suggesting things for them to do in order to find Faelynn, but Fox hadn't heard any of it.


The last thing he heard as he started to stumble away from the scene was Airrow telling them to stay at the camp as he started to leave on his horse. Fox didn't need to be told twice. He didn't want to search for her, she was gone and done and he was ready to move on.


move on, yeah it was time to do that. It was obvious with how Ruger and Airrow had reacted that if he stayed things would be tense and to him it wasn't worth it, he could get to Byzantine alone and faster than this lot was moving. It was decided, he would disappear once everyone settled for sleep.


Faelynn opened her eyes and immediately squinted against a splash of water that hit her face and arms. She was soaking wet from the rapids lapping onto the little ledge. She shivered and exhaled a long painful breath. How long had she been out? Minutes? Hours? Days? Were the rest of the group long gone and way past bowing their head in a moment of silence for their fallen acquaintance? The young woman sniffled and choked back a sob. How pathetic was this, she couldn't fight, not when the rest of the group were in danger of feathered attackers and not even to save her own life. Look where it got her too, alone and shivering, feet from ice water that with every overlapping wave, beckoned for her to fall over and let the current hold her. With what little strength she could muster, Faelynn pushed herself with one arm into a sitting position with her back against the wall of the cliff. She would not be attending the rapids invitation to join its watery family just yet. She strained every limb she could feel to try and move but made little progress past just staying sitting up against the wall. So far she discovered that her feet were numb and she was missing both of her shoes, her right arm was popped out of place from slamming it against the cliff on her way down and both of her knees throbbed painfully from her landing along with most of her left side, those were probably just bruised though but, all over the cold from the wind and water was setting in. Her teeth chattered and her shredded clothes did absolutely nothing to protect her from the chill that felt set into her very bones. She was ready to let herself slip back into oblivion when the faint sound of galloping hooves grew above her. It was almost nothing above the sound of the rapids and Faelynn almost dared not to move from her spot against the wall if her mind was just playing tricks but then she heard the whinney and snort of the horse as it drew even closer above her head. Her eyes snapped open and she inhaled sharply, sending pain through her cold chest and side. She gritted her teeth and cried out in pain, pleading with the Gods that it wasn't her imagination that a rider was definitely above her and could hear her. It didn't even occur to her that it could be Fox, making sure his deed was done but then again, somewhere in the back of her mind she felt she wouldn't care if it was, perhaps if so, he would end her pain and cold quickly rather than let her sit here alone and suffer.


Faelynn coughed with her first attempt to call out. She inhaled sharply again and cursed at herself as she lifted her good arm out and gripped at something, anything to help her rise at least a few inches from where she was. She was angry, more at herself than anything or anyone. The horse was probably long past her by now, continuing it's gallop down the river and here she was, coughing and wincing at her own mortality.


"P-please..." Her voice croaked and she swallowed hard lifted her head upward as her hand found a root in the side of the cliff. She grabbed it and with everything she had she pulled herself up growling and crying in a rather frustrated tone the whole way. She was up though, kind of. She was almost fully relying on the wall and root for standing. Her body was smushed against the side, her face pressed into the cold dirt as she called out again, this time louder.


"Please, someone, are you there?" She sat there in silence for a few moments listening but really all she could hear was the rushing of her blood in her ears. Her head pounded and dizziness over came her. She closed her eyes and focused on the cool dirt against her suddenly growing hot neck and face. Her stomach grew queasy and sudden panic took to the back of her mind. Oh no, next would be her hearing to go and then the tunnel, she was going to black out and then she would never be found, she would fall and if the rapids didn't take her some wild animal would eventually or worse, she'd awaken still here and still alone, starving and injured and knowing her luck, with some infection as well.


"Oh, Gods could this get anyworse?" She growled towards the heavens, and as if some mean joke from the Gods themselves suddenly the root Faelynn was holding onto snapped free from the cliff and she went tumbling backwards with a shriek and onto her back, her head hanging over the edge and into the water. The freezing liquid sent a shock through her body and for once in her life she regretted growing her thick strawberry blond hair so long. It was heavy and with how weak she was, it made it a chore to take away from the greedy rapids that pulled at it and threatened to drag her into it's arms but somehow again, she cheated the pull of the current and rolled away, back onto the ledge in the spot where she landed in the first place on her back. She stared up into the starry night sky and cursed the Gods with every dirty word she ever learned, and she learned a lot in her lifetime.
 
The man screamed and cried like a fool. Like everyone would believe his lies. But how did Raz know they were lies. He had no proof. It was his gut feeling. The bestia had acted many times on his instinct alone but with so many around and on his travels, some times where better served alone in thought. For now, he would listen to Airrow and stay behind, as much as he wanted to go and prove that this man Fox was much more deserving the fate that had come upon Fae, he would stay with the others.


Stopping beside his Steed, he loosened the straps and latches of his armor. Removing his metal leggings, and the belt holding his satchel and his weapons. Pulling them up, and resting them on his horse, he let out a small growl in frustration of the day before ignoring Airrow and the others in there discussion and heading off alone into the dark. Amras headed in the opposite direction of the river, heading out into a wide open field. His vision was significantly better at night than the others, especially so if the moon was out.


He walked silently for a few minutes. The camps fire still within eye shot. Letting out a sign he laid down in the grass, taking in the quiet stillness of the night. Staring up at the starry sky, he let his mind wander. It was amazing how quickly his mind wandered to though of his lost love. Of the events that led up to him running and everything that had happened in his life up till now. Sometimes it felt like it was for naught because he couldn’t even save a poor soul like Fae. Then it a moment of clarity it struck him. They took that mans word that she was dead.


Had Airrow sensed something that Amras himself had not? Was there something he had seen that Raz missed? It had only been minutes since Sir Airrow had left to go down stream. Surely, he only wanted to go alone to prove something, but was it the same as Amras? It was decided. Leaning back up and looking to the fire at their camp he would go against their leaders wishes. He could not go back to camp and get his gear. Then it would alert everyone to his movements. He would have to go without. As if a Creature like himself needed a sword to defend himself. Quickly and silently he made his way around the camp, keeping his distance so no one would spot him before entering the woods a few hundred feet down from camp.


He would not be able to keep up with Airrow on Horseback, but Raz would still be able to track him fairly easy through the woods. Now his curiosity got the better of him. He wanted to know what he had missed.


[OOC, sorry for skipping stuff and not replying fast. been trying to figure out how i want to define Raz. I find him rather difficult to rp.]
 
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Wiping his face more to further clean the grime, Azrathoth stared at those around him, boring into their very souls. They were all unique, but burned bright in their own ways, nearly making the male glare hungrily. When their 'host' spoke, he moved his gaze toward him, pushing greyish blond hair from his face with a dirty hand. "I've my own rations, though my thanks for the offer," he began, nodding as well to the mention of questions. He would act as if interested for now, despite his chilly demeanor and seemingly tired mood.


Feeling eyes upon him and hearing light footfalls, he turned to face the lady from before and smiled a half smile as she approached. "Your words are kind, ma'am and I thank thee for them," he said, acting as if any of this mattered. He could feel the true meaning behind her words. The others may have noticed nothing, but he fought the predatory smile that threatened his face. His eyes burned violently in the dark as she introduced herself and he bowed slightly. "A pleasure, Nadia, that is all my own. I am Azrathoth Orindr."


As she moved toward the others, he followed. "I have not either, how terribly crass of me." He laughed quietly through closed lips. "You'll have to excuse my mood, I'm afraid. Today's battle came rather unexpectedly and, needless to say, I am not the kindest when I tire - interrupted from my journey or not."


He nodded his head just slightly and repeated what he'd told Nadia moments before. "I am Azrathoth Orindr." As he did as such, two of the group departed, mentioning finding water. He mingled as little as he could, finding more interest in watching the others for a time and helping where he could this way and that. Before he knew it, a shriek pierced the other sounds of the night, one of the couple darting back toward them and sobbing about his love falling into the river. A frown tightened itself over his face, but he hid it with the wrapping he placed back over the lower part of it. Everyone began reacting, but Az bode his time and waited until he could approach the overly sorrowful one.


Stepping close to him, Az put on a show of concern, leaning in as if to share some grieving words with the other. When he leaned in, however, something else crept forth in a whisper. "I see the dark in your soul, boy. You may have fooled the others, but take care to watch how tightly you close your eyes this eve. Slumber with one eye on watch, for it may allow you time to flee."


Patting the others shoulder as he leaned away, the giant of a man gripped one shoulder and squeezed. From a distance, it would look comforting, but the pressure he applied was anything but. "I feel for your loss, good sir, but perhaps she'll be found alive just yet. Keep in high hopes," he announced and gave another nod, moving away. "I will go see if I can aid in the search." With that, he set off toward where the others had gone, hiding another sinister grin behind his 'mask'.
 
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