Fantasy Terryal: The First Age of Man

[Erica]

It was rude to attempt to look beneath Nadia’s cowl. Aesriel knew this, and yet the temptation remained. Perhaps that was why the woman provided a flimsy pretext and made a hasty exit. Aesriel nodded when the other woman asked if she could excuse herself, then watched her leave with her horse. For a brief moment, she wondered why everyone tended to walk away from her. True, it had been a while since she had bathed, but she wasn’t alone in that: the entire group had been traveling for some time. The river might have provided an opportunity to bathe, but with Fae’s “accident”…


Her gaze flitted to the figure of Fox, still kneeling by the fire in apparent mourning. She hated to distrust him, but something didn’t seem right. Meanwhile, Kalalar was making soup with Ruger’s and Yurt’s assistance, and the other mage that had slept through so much finally awoke to ask for an update.


Aesriel debated sticking close to Fox, but that would undoubtedly include consoling him. Uncertain she could stomach that, she instead moved toward Kalahar, Fyodor, Yurt, and Ruger – and the soup. Her stomach gave a soft growl in anticipation of food. Moving closer, she took a whiff of the contents of the pot and her stomach instantly quieted. It didn’t smell bad, but it wasn’t appetizing, either. She took one of the bottles of wine and addressed Fyodor’s question quietly. “Faelynn fell into the river while we were making camp.” Her gaze moved to the figure of Fox, eyes narrowing. “Her fiancé," she said the word with thinly disguised contempt, "was with her but unable to help. Airrow and the others are looking for her…” The sentence trailed off. She didn’t want to say “her body”, but the word still hovered on the tip of her tongue.


“And we leave at first light.” With that, she took a drink from the bottle and shook her head. She didn’t know how to feel about Fae’s death. It wasn’t as if she knew the woman, but she hated to see anyone hurt. More importantly, the evening’s events reinforced her sentiment that she couldn’t trust most of her companions.

 

[Original Hylion]

She was speaking, a sense of security filled Airrow's body, it pushed the hints of a smile at the edges of his lips. She was having difficulty, and Airrow coddled her further in his cradle, as Amras and Iscariot made their way beside him. Amras was on about a predator, of which Iscariot added her own comments. It caused Airrow furrowed brow at each of them. Their mind seemed to be on the wrong matter. They were carrying a direly injured lady who needed to dried and warmed. Iscariot offered to help relocate her arm, but Airrow found their current position having little optimum ability. He wanted to get her back to the camp first. The lady, Nadia, had mentioned some knowledge in the medical fields, in hope, she would be able to help her better than Airrow's knowledge. He was a warrior, he knew how to keep a man from bleeding out, how to remove an arrow, how to amputate and to cauterize, but sickness and internal damages, he knew nothing of the inner most anatomies. The time right now, it called for action, but not on Fox's part, but on Fae's.


"Back to the camp, there's no time to scheme." He irked as he began trying to climb out of the river from where Iscariot had descended slowly. He was having some difficulty ascending while carrying a grown woman in his arms. He was sacrificing most of his balance to keep Faelynn comfortable, and it slowed his ascent by a large amount. In time, he had began climbing with his knees, and sliding a small distance down before rushing to keep himself at a steady climb. After a small amount of time, they were away from the river and back to his horse. Iscariot had given to them a hood. Did it really matter if they covered her up, it was not like anyone would doubt that they found her, dead or alive, if she had her face bundled. Instead, he could use it as a temporary bandage. Putting it on Fae's head would of gotten it dirtied with blood anyhow, so he doubted Iscariot would care much for not having it back.


Slowly, Airrow set Fae down, letting her rest her head on his leg. He tore the hood to allow to fully extend, then began to wrap it around Fae's head, covering up the wound. It was a short and fast process, only slowed by Airrow's attempt to be gentle with the girl. Afterwards, he plucked her from the ground again and attempt to mount the horse, spotting a sense of difficulty as he was lacking of arms and slightly off balance. It took a few moments, and a few attempts, but he forced his way and led the horse with only one hand on the reigns. He kept on Fae to keep her back straight so she would not risk hurting any of her internals further.


"Raz, lead this woman to our camp, and do not dally. She may be able to help with Fae's condition. Carry her, if you must!" He kicked his horse into a gallop, risking Fae's comfort for some extra speed. His eyes mostly locked on heading towards that faint light in the distance, the camp fire was still going. His eyes would avert in small glances, to assure Fae was still breathing. She was even more tattered now than before. Her clothes and body were tattered before from Zehpyr's fire, but now her clothes had sogged and torn revealing more skin than even a prostitute. Airrow only realized by Fae that he had left most of his heavier garments, or rather his armor, at the river. Hopefully one of those two would grab it.


"Just focus on breathing," Airrow tried to speak with Fae, and try to reassure her, "don't worry, everything will be alright. We'll be in the next town by tomorrow and then we can see the mountains. There will be snow there. I know it doesn't snow in Zephyr, but maybe you've seen it before. It's almost like those beaches in the rural areas, but all white, covering everything. I think," he went on, "I think, maybe, you'd enjoy it."

 

[Kaine]

It is true. Raz and the Witch were more focused on revenge. As much as Raz wanted to seek that upon Fox. There was no proof. But again, what was there to stop Fox from plunging a knife in her chest this time around. He did not like these situations but now that was in Airrow’s hands. It was his call and he couldn’t afford not to listen to him anymore. Insubordination only went so far. As the girl was loaded onto the horse, he asked Raz to guy the woman back to camp.


Raz turned and looked at where Fae was on the shore. He turned, looked at the witch again and then walked over slowly. His padded feet could feel the moisture of the rocks and the sand. Crouching down, his arm rested on his knee and looked at the cloth in his hand. The water glugged by slowly washing the blood from the sand where she had laid. Snickering, he tossed the ripped clothing into the stream and stood back up. He didn’t want to say so much to the Witch but much couldn’t be helped.


Turning, he addressed her in a moderate tone, “Da fact is we dun truly know if she was pushed or fell. You as well and me need ta leave it ta Airrow and keep are traps shut. Fae is his friend, so it’s his call.”


Raz turned and walked over the the armor upon the ground, grabbing it and dragging it over to the woman, he let it clank to the ground before taking the cloak she had given him before. Taking it carefully, he draped it over her shoulders again. Then he reached out and grabbed the armor again, this time he lifted it up to his shoulder to better handle it.


“Yer clothing will keep ya warmer. Dun hink i need shadows tanight. Let’s head back, da path is short.”


Casually, he walked past her and started to lead her up the trail to the camp. At this point he was tired but not sure if anyone would get sleep tonight. He was a little curious about the witch though. Maybe a little conversation would lighten the mood before returning to the camp. At least he could possibly judge if she would be a threat in the future or not. Their first encounter was not so friendly afterall.


"So..." Raz realized he didn't know her name, "Why are ya so far out here? En alone at that?"

 

[Ozmic]

Az stood outside the camp in the darkness as the night's smells and sounds swam around his still form. In truth, he was weary and it worried him, the very reason he'd not gotten far in 'assisting' the search. The yearning to 'feed' was becoming bothersome and distracting, making it harder for him to continue with his facade of kindness for much longer.


And the day's battle... though he'd fought strongly, the numbers against him were many in his weakened state. As much as he greatly disliked admitting it to himself, the appearance of the others had been a bitter salvation. Pulling down his mask and spitting blood and phlegm onto the earth, he cursed his 'powers' as much as he praised them.


His thoughts were broken by the words at camp behind him, talk of wine and drinking. He ignored them, but noticed something peculiar from the corner of his vision. The woman from earlier and her two shining souls were moving away from the camp and into the lonesome dark. He had to fight back a sinister laugh, pushing it down to a hungry and snarling grin behind his mask as he set forth to follow her carefully to witness her sinister deed. It seemed she too held a darkness in her. That soul of hers and the second she possessed would fuel him well, he decided.


Suddenly, she reacted to another presence. Azrathoth drew back into the dark, seeking refuge behind a large tree not far from the female and... another? Some creature that hung upside down before his prey. This wouldn't do! It couldn't. He was so CLOSE. He listened to them converse, growing more and more impatient. The second woman-thing's words were overacted and reeked of falsehood, but he could hardly notice. He shook now, yearning for the souls the other possessed.


But how would he get away with another disappearance so soon? How would he push the blame away from himself? He moved back away from them with a scowl, keeping his distance and watching with his old eyes as he tried to concoct a plan of action.

 

[Haley]

It was hard to concentrate on everything both Airrow and this new woman, who created light for the path ahead of them, were saying. Her heart pounded in her rushing head and she fought to stay conscious. Every swallow she took hurt with the rawness of her throat and every breath she took was ragged and wheezed from the infection in her chest. Perhaps she would die after all, at least she was rescued first.


yay.


When the mystery light-wielding woman spoke to her about fixing her arm, Faelynn gave a small nod and smile, happy that this stranger was observing her enough to notice what she was feeling and caring enough to help. She didn't even care about the pain that popping her arm back into place would cause. At this point, she was going between two radical emotions, make it go away and let me die. There wasn't much of an inbetween at the moment.


The shivering fever-stricken woman winced with every adjustment Airrow made. She could feel he was trying his best to be delicate so she bit back the whimpers and gasps of pain and dizziness that hit her. She just tried to listen to the things Airrow told her, all the while, thanking the Gods that they had people at the camp that knew how to heal and what-not. She heard Airrow say something about mountains and snow and her enjoying and she opened her eyes. For a moment she didn't respond, she startled herself, she hadn't realized she had even closed them. She looked up at Airrow and took in his face from the odd angle she was placed in. For a moment all she could do was lightly chuckle to herself about how this wasn't the first time she had looked up from underneath him at an angle similar to this. Also, last time he didn't look so worried.


"Snow...? I hear it's beautiful... I al-also hear it's-s cold hehe... I-I heard from travelers that the trees in-in the snowy lands all glisten with the-the ice...." She stopped to clear her throat and swallow hard, wincing at the soreness in her throat once again. "that coats the trees and-and the water freezes from the bare-bare branches in mid d-drip." She gave a small pathetic smile as she caught her breath and with her good arm, gripped Airrow's shirt tightly to try and keep herself more still and firmly pressed against his chest. The ride was starting to get too bumpy and her arm throbbed painfully, along with her ribs. Her head that was now wrapped up in a cloak turban that felt heavy but warmer than her soaking long hair did.


Slowly, Faelynn turned her head so that she could see in the direction they were headed. It was strain on her and only made her head pound more but now she was starting to see the campfire ahead of them. They were close, thank the Gods. That fire was calling to her, begging to warm her exhausted bones. She started to smile as she narrowed her eyes and peered into the area where the fire was. She wanted to see who was was there and if they were just as shocked to see her alive as she was. Just as she was ready to give a small cry of joy she froze. Her eyes locked onto a male figure standing on the edge of the woods, next to the horse she rode in on. All air escaped her lungs and a chill ran up her spine. She sucked in a long terrified gasp and threw herself hard against Airrow, as if by doing that the Horse would suddenly start traveling backwards or something. "No, no!" She whimpered and felt the feeling of growing hope break as she stared at Fox who stared back at her with a face full of what seemed to be, for only a flash, the same amount of shock and Terror she felt. The idea that he had fled and was long gone was just too good to be true and there he was waiting with the rest and now he was going to have to finish what he started.


"No, please no, Airrow!" She choked and coughed, the pain in her lungs only making the tears flow more.


"Oh **** me." Fox's face went completely pale as he looked into the woods and spotted what he knew to be Airrow riding toward camp with the number one freaking prostitute in his lap. This pain the ass just wouldn't go away and now here he was trapped between the camp that all distrusted him and were probably all planning their way to take him out and Mr. Djinn wolf himself riding in like the freaking calvary, a big hero now. Great, just great, now what? Fox spat and cursed before suddenly leaping onto the back of the horse. He would have to make a decision and right now. He obviously couldn't fight all of these skilled fighters. I mean, the only person who wasn't a fighter among them was Faelynn and he couldn't even kill her right. It was decided, only one thing to do. He ducked low and kicked the side of the horse, hard, sending him bolting into the darkness. At the moment he had no idea if he was going the right way but all he cared about was getting the hell away.


For now, at least.

 

[Original Hylion]

"OH NO, YOU ARE GOING NOWHERE TODAY, LITTLE MAN!"


The loud voice shot through the plains, clear as crystal and rolling as the thunder of the skies, followed by a roar that did not contain the cheery, bloodthirst that the mercenary had earlier. It was filled with anger and the actual wish to kill, absolutely dripping with what the Northerner had never expressed for the past few years.


-Few Minutes Ago-


Ruger Volfaraday had only just unloaded the wine he was lugging with him and had started tending to the extra bottle he took with him, draining it by the mouthful. So much that some of it leaked through the sides of his mouth. After the fiasco prior to Zephyr and Zephyr's destruction, he hadn't taken a drink for so long, and was absolutely giddy with the prospect of alcohol running through his veins again, the warmth spreading through his body. He gave a chuckle as he moved away from his fellow Northerners and continued emptying his drink. He and alcohol, two best friends together again. Dead comrades, dead friends, dead lovers, all washed away by the warmth of alcohol. Dead. Dead just like the poor....whats her name? Faelynn? Faelynn. Yes. The fox. The foxy, foxing fox killed her. No one will believe him if he said it. No one will...but what was it that Yurt said? Something about strength and north and strong and something else. He dumped the empty bottle and picked up another on the way, before starting to empty that one too.


Oh yeah, he was going to confront that Fox fox foxy foxman. He was going to go all up on his face. Gonna get physical. The fox was going to need a physical after he got physical. Ruger laughed again at his own joke, and stumbled over a clump of dirt. He cursed in his native tongue and started singing a loud, unintelligible shanty as he made his way back to the main camp. His eyesight blurred, but he could see the red armor man....arrow or eyerrow or something like that carry someone. That...that looked like his old friend. That looked like Faelynn.


Faelynn.


He dropped the bottle, spilling the remnants of its contents on the earth. Where was Fox? Where is that man? If he really loved her, then he should be running there. Ruger cracked his knuckles as his mind cleared and rage boiled away the influence of alcohol. He scanned the camp, and lo, there he was, the coward, leaping onto a horse. With an almighty roar that would put bears to shame, Ruger sprinted towards the man as he rode his way, arm outstretched, ready to clothesline him right off the horse. He'd break every leg on the horse if he had to. He'd run for days if he had to. He'd cut this man down and again and again and again.


"OH NO, YOU ARE GOING NOWHERE TODAY, LITTLE MAN!"

 

[Silver Lion Coalition]

Kalhalar sniffed the stew one last time, confident that it was complete. He was now ready to serve the stew to rest of the group. At least, he was ready to serve the stew to the ones that were still here. And yet, one problem still remained: no one had any bowls of any sort to hold the stew while they ate it, and Kalhalar was fairly sure that they wouldn’t all crowd around the pot to eat. Before he could voice his concerns, however, his thoughts were interrupted by a loud belch coming from not too far away. Clearly disgusted, he looked at the source of the noise.


“It’s evening,” he replied curtly. Before he could say anymore, though, he was interrupted by Aesriel, who had walked over and smelled the food. She informed the man of everything Kalhalar had been ready to say, except she actually knew the lady’s name. Kalhalar remained quiet, thinking to himself how odd it was that he had remembered everyone’s name when Airrow had greeted them back in Zephyr, and yet he hadn’t remembered the names of Faelynn or the man to whom she was betrothed. Kalhalar looked up and opened his mouth, ready to ask the people around him of the name of Faelynn’s fiancé.


“OH NO, YOU ARE GOING NOWHERE TODAY, LITTLE MAN!"


Kalhalar whipped his head in surprise at the sound of Ruger’s voice. It seemed that, in his thoughts, he had not noticed the northerner walk away from the group. It also seemed that he was getting interrupted before he even had a chance to speak quite a bit lately. Now, though, Ruger was running back towards the camp, and Faelynn’s fiancé was riding a horse directly towards him. Neither seemed to be slowing down; at that speed, Ruger was likely to just be run over. Kalhalar acted quickly, slightly raising a block of earth in the path of the horse. With any luck, the horse would trip over the block and fall over. Sure, it was likely to injure the rider, but it would be no worse than what the rider seemed to be ready to do to Ruger.

 

[Haley]

Just as Fox believed he was going to be in the clear, just when he thought he was going to make it...


The red-haired bandit had snickered at the booming voice of Ruger who was yelling directly at him. "It's too late, you're too late." He thought as he aimed the horse in his direction, bolting it full speed, hoping to successfully dodge the man and the others as he made his way into the darkness of the woods, opposite the side Airrow and Faelynn were riding in. He couldn't help but allow a grin to spread across his face as he bolted straight for the red-faced northerner. Perhaps he could use the big oaf to launch over the rest of the camp. He leaned down and concentrated, narrowing his eyes and was almost to him when suddenly a patch of earth in his path rose from its resting place and before Fox knew it, his horse was tumbling and skidding over onto the Northerner and, Fox was flying forward without it.


He didn't have time to scream as his body flew over Ruger, over small area that was the rest of the camp and into the treeline where the campfire ended and the dark cover of the forest began. Fox slammed into a bush and rolled, kicking up dirt and leaves as he skidded to a stop with the help of a tree. he lay there in a tangle of vines. The wind was knocked from him and for a moment he stared into darkness with shock. Then he remembered to breathe and took in a long, painful gasp. He was in the woods, that was good at least. He rolled over and slowly assessed all his body parts that could be broken. Thankfully, he was all good. with the knowledge that the campers would soon be looking for him he quickly climbed to his feet and started to slowly trek deeper into the woods.

 

[Erica]

The wine lacked subtlety and hit Aesriel's tongue with brute force. She kept a straight face until the aftertaste followed: that tinge of bitterness lingered longer than expected, finally inspiring her face to scrunch up. She tried to suck some of the taste off her tongue, but that proved a fruitless effort. Conceding defeat, she raised the bottle for another drink. In the process, she missed a few critical moments. The first sign of Airrow returning to camp with Fae. Fox mounting his horse in an obvious attempt to leave. Ruger's booming declaration drew her attention, bottle still in hand as she attempted to swallow the wine in her mouth just as Fox drove his horse straight toward the Northerner.


Luckily, Kalahar was more than he seemed. He erected an section of earth with little to no effort. She would have to think on that later. Maybe even talk to him about… no, she had to think about that later.


The block of earth had the intended effect. Mostly. It stopped the immediate threat, but the horse's momentum couldn't easily be stopped. Dropping her bottle of wine and staff, she dashed forward, yelling, "Look out!" (As if Ruger couldn't see the now terrified horse about to land on him.) She would prefer to assist from a safe distance. Perhaps loosening the earth beneath one of the horse's hooves to encourage it to fall in the best possible direction? There was no time to calculate the best application of prvok techniques, however. There was only one chance.


It only took a few running steps to reach him, at which point she tackled him to the ground - hopefully out of the horse's trajectory. She caught a glimpse of Fox sailing overhead toward the woods, and one part of her brain hoped he would break his neck when he landed.

 

[Ozmic]

Just as Azrathoth went to sneak away from the two women, there was a bellowing cry from the camp, followed by commotion. The old giant sat waiting quietly, eyes peeled for any sign of activity in the darkness. Before he could react further, the male called Fox stumbled his way. Az could almost feel his mouth water at the prospect. 'He must have been the cause of alarm at the camp,' he thought to himself, sinister plans twisting their way through his mind like venomous serpents. 'Yes... this is my chance to sate this insufferable yearning!'





Moving from his hiding place, he approached the other from behind. First, he would drain the other of his dark spirit, then take the half-living and soulless corpse back to them so they could commit the grisly deed he was sure they had planned. It was perfect... almost TOO perfect.


"I see your darkness has been brought to light, tricheor," he stated, voice deep and accusing, but with a hint of bestial yearning. "And now, as one like yourself would, you flee. Hah." He stopped for a moment, old eyes seeming to glow like those of a wild animal in the light of the moon. "Your story ends here, scroyle. You belong now to the Reaper."

 

[Ayl]

As they peered over towards the mighty city of Zephyr, some of them praised the Gods for finally arriving at their destination. Pauvel was joyful as always and was cracking jokes with his comrades-in-arms. Even though he was the leader and Captain of the Black Hawks mercenary band, he didn’t think lesser of any of his underlings. He considered them brothers, his friends, the ones with whom he shared drinks, scars and memories. His second-in-command was a Northern woman, Kara, who had proven herself over the years as a faithful companion and a great lover.


Although their relationship was no secret, they avoided talking about it in the company of the others. Also, while Kara started having deeper feelings for Pauvel, he never got past the events of Hinxworth. But as they rode on their sturdy horses, something amiss was happening over the skies of Zephyr. A large storm seemed to be brewing. “Looks like we have it coming!” said Yorn, over the screeching of the wind. “Nah,it’ll come to pass soon enough!” Torgas replied. Pauvel was worried, as the storm seemed pretty serious. Out of nowhere, the skies turned red with flames, which made their horses stop in their tracks, neighing frightened. All but Stormrider, who seemed ardent to prove himself worthy of his name.


What occurred afterwards, left them in pure awe. What seemed to be a mighty giant descended and started wrecking havoc among the city, destroying it piece by piece. The small band of warriors were close enough to feel the burning air, barely breathable and the echoing screams of terror and panic. “Back, go back!” Pauvel ordered in his serious tone, as he turned Storm around and beseeched the others to follow his example. They started sprinting away from the utter destruction, but their retreat was to be for naught, as suddenly they appeared.


Headless creatures, with armors and weapons with some weird-looking feathers adorned to thyself. They started charging at them, weapon ready, with slaughter in their intentions. “Defend yourselves!” yelled the Captain. Bows, arrows, swords and daggers were drawn, and the battle commenced. The first two horses were brought down, as Yorn and Hames fell down, but quickly recovered and started repelling the enemies again, covered by Pauvel’s amazing marksmanship. Kara, with an axe in her right hand and a Morningstar in her left, started carving through the enemy numbers.They were obviously winning, but not little would their shock be when they gazed upon the foul creatures and see that not only they were as many as before, but even more. Soon they were overwhelmed. Pauvel was running out of arrows to loosen upon the hordes of hell spawn, as Tuomas yelled to him. “Go, boss, we got this!”. “I’m not leaving you here alone!” his answer came swiftly. This time, it was Kara’s turn to beg. “Please, Pav, just go! We’ll catch up and meet you in the next village to the North-East!” Pauvel wanted to protest, but Kara had silenced him with a swift kiss, saying once more “Go!”.


Pauvel nodded, as he placed two fingers in his mouth, letting out a sharp whistle. Trampling over two of the beasts, Stormrider headed his master’s call, storming over towards him. In the run, Pauvel jumped on Storm, grabbed the reins and whipped the horse shortly to run away. While sprinting, Pauvel threw one last gaze towards his companions. They were still fighting, holding the line. Although he didn’t have faith in the actions of the Gods, he hoped they’ll make it safe to the next village.


Two days have gone by and nothing. Rattled by his own restlessness, Pauvel finally saddles up Stormrider, to go back to Zephyr and try and find his friends. As he rode towards the city, black smoke would emerge from the horizon, getting thicker and thicker as he approached. Having reached a more vantageous point, he could see the remains of the once beautiful City of the West. Smoldering ruins and ashes, waiting to crumble upon the remains of the once living citizens. “What foul deed has this city done to be subjected to such…disaster?!” he asked himself out loud. Suddenly, he rememberd why he had come this far and started searching the field, once he had realized he was at the location where the battle took place.


What he saw broke him. Among the ashes and blackened,burnt ground, he had found Yorn, Tuomas and Thorgas’s bodies. They were easy to identify due to the Black Hawks armor they were wearing. Their sigils, a black hawk in flight, with his talons ready to strike the unwary prey, gave away their status. He did not see the remains of Kara, Hames and Jorkas. Nor did he want to, for that matter, but he felt that he would be forever haunted if he did not make sure they survived…or not. After a while, he did discover them, buried between what seemed to be an arch. Maybe they sought higher ground after the others had fallen and their flank was exposed.Their bodies were burnt, so he couldn’t tell if they died because of the culling or at the demons’ hands. Pauvel couldn’t hold it, as he fell to his knees, cursing the Gods again and again, one tear blazing his cheek. Twice had fate made him feel it’s sting of despair sink deep into his very core. He shakes his head and rises up. “I’m sorry my friends. Yet another oath broken to scar my existence!” he says, remembering the oath he’d taken when he started this group, 8 years ago, that he would protect them all no matter the cost.


Stormrider seemd to feel his master’s grieve, coming near as to console him. Pauvel patted the faithful stallion’s head, getting up and grabbing the reins, only to remain in recollection for a short while. “I must…go away now.”. Stormrider took off without any command from his master. Sometimes, the horse seemed to know what his friend wanted before even he knew. An intelligent and loyal creature was “Storm”, as he’d always been.


They rode East, until they’ve encountered a forest. Pauvel decided it was time he’d stop grieving and make camp. It was getting dark and the forests ahead could be full of dangers. Bandits and wild animals could stalk him and jump him when he least expected it. He was no match for them in his current state, so he’d started making the preparations when suddenly, he’d heard sounds of agitation coming from neaby? Brigands? He drew his bow and nocked an arrow, ready for battle, but the voices didn’t seem to be getting any closer. Stealthily going from bush to bush, tree to tree, he maintained his cover while approaching the source of scandal. What seemed like a group stood before a fire, obviously making a rather large commotion. He stayed put, waiting for things to unfold, as he still didn’t knew what the blasted Hell was going on!

 

[Haley]

Fox stumbled through the woods, gasping for steady breaths and trying to keep his panic down. Everything was ruined, this was, hands down, the worst job he'd ever taken. He cursed and moved as fast as he could which wasn't very fast at all. Although he hadn't broken anything from his little swan dive into the woods, he was sore all over and bruised.


Just when he believed he would make it away, when maybe something out of this horrible trip would go right, a chill ran down his spine with the words that licked the back of his neck. It was him. Fox's blood ran cold as he turned, wide eyed and mouth agape as he stared into his fears. What was this man if nothing but the human embodiment of his darkest thoughts, rawest primal emotion and thickest fears. Was he doing this to him on purpose? Was there some underlying black magic that clung to this man's skin and permeated the air around them? He wasn't sure, he also didn't want to stick around any longer to find out, but it seemed he wouldn't be able to get away that easy.


He looked around frantically as he backed against the nearest tree. The only other person he saw was the woman Loreial and without thinking, he lashed out and quickly grabbed her with one arm and pulled her against him. With his other hand he quickly revealed his dagger and pressed it against her neck, tight enough to draw only a drop of blood. He didn't mean to add so much pressure so soon but he was panicking and if need be he knew he would slit her throat in a heartbeat to get out of there alive.


"Y-you just stay back, Okay, okay stay back from me!" He said with shaky whimpers underlying every word. His voice wavered but his intentions were clear. If he didn't let him go, he would kill this woman and probably throw her body at the old man to escape.

 

[Auren]

Ramya watched the girl’s face, how it shifted slightly. She had taken the knife back, but Ramya couldn’t help noticing how the girl didn’t fully release it. She squinted her eyes and tilted her head as she smiled innocently enough. She then smelled a hume’s scent mixed with poison and her nose crinkled. The scent was hard, sickening. Her eyes glanced around their surroundings, though she couldn’t see far into the wood. Yet, her nose was never wrong. There was something, someone close by and they were hiding. She furrowed her brow, but barely.


She could hear voices from the camp, and one loud, booming shout. She turned her gaze and squinted at the distance. ”What is that racket?”she said, keeping to her disguise. Her hand twitched towards one of the knives at her hip. There were more humes headed into the forest, and she felt that she would be outnumbered. She could make out at least five different, distinct scents, and they were all headed her way. Were they chasing someone? She wondered.


Within the next moment, a man crashed through the woods, almost flailing about the branches. He was panicked. Rammie raised her hands to him, playing innocent. Then she saw the man that smelled of poison, his position feral. ”Hey now, no need for being a scared filly. What’s got you so eyes wide?”she said, her senses heightening with her fight or flight response. She felt her heart rate increase slightly. But she needed to stay calm, to play innocent. If she killed anyone now, it was likely the rest would kill her as well. She didn’t like having to kill people without pay, and killing this many, with their smells covering the forest, it was likely she would miss one. Humes had a way of wanting to take revenge.

 

[Ayl]

Watching from the cover of the woods, he would see a scene most peculiar. A man came flying through the air.Curious, Pauvel gazed to wherever the man came from, and saw a horse go down, stumbling on what seemed to be a sudden lift in the earth. "Magic, no doubt. Poor creature! How could they treat such a magnificent animal.Such cruelty. I should be on my guard. If they did that to the horse, no telling what they'll do to me!" the thought echoed in his mind, as he gently pulled two arrows from his quiver and nocked them on his bow. "At least I won't go down without a fight!" he said as he tried to observe the scene going on better.


The flying stunt man now had raised up from the floor, just as another voice that made his hair rise up. Such a voice was bound to give you the creeps. Peeking even more, he saw a tall man, with a very peculiar weapon starring at the flying bufoon. "What kind of a freak show is this? Just when I thought I'd seen them all back in Zephyr!"


"Your story ends here, scroyle. You belong now to the Reaper."


"Reaper?! What was a Reaper?" Pauvel wondered to himself. "I should probably get to a vantage point." he concluded as he wondered off looking for a good spot from where he could observe the on going scene without the risk of being spotted, not like near that tree he took cover behind. "What if there are others inbound. They could be trouble. I can take on that idio---what?! He's ...taking a lady hostage?! Bah. not just a half minded simpleton but a coward as well! But I can't rush in and save her, not now anyway. Best to see where this is all going!"

 

[Original Hylion]

The fleeting rider glided down the hills nearing closer and closer to the small campfire, surrounded by idling men and women. The sight of the rider, the appearance of his burden, sent a surge of prompt action throughout the members of the camp. The roguish man flung himself onto a horse and kicked into a retreat. The courageous northerner lunged and throw himself in front of horse in some crazed attempt to stop the horse in its gallop. The two magicians seemed to react as well, as the horse curiously fell over a piece of something within the darkness that seemed not to be there before. Aesriel even took to rushing after Ruger. While Ruger may have gained himself some new bruises from the horse trampling over him, Fox went flying straight into the underbrush. Airrow had no real interest in joining the pursuit for him, he would rather save a life than take another.


Airrow slowed the horse into a steady trot before coming to a stop near Kalhalar. He paid no visible mind to what was going on with Fox, and focused on carrying Fae nearer to the flame, finding some difficulty as she seemed poised to stay far from Fox. Airrow paid no mind to what else was happening.


Gently, Airrow placed Fae near enough to the fire to feel warmth, but far enough to stay safe. "Where is Nadia? She spoke of helping any injured. Bring her here to help, quickly! But no, wait, do not leave Fae by her lonesome. Quickly now, attend to her, water, warmth, if any have knowledge of medical prestige, please act quickly!" He spoke to all around, that mostly being Kalhalar, as all others had gone off in chase after Fox. Airrow himself, after placing Fae in her position, went off to the horses, plucking some coats and blankets off of the saddles. As he examined, he found three horses missing, excluding the one he had taken. One of the horses scavenged from what was left of Zephyr it seemed. Airrow only hesitated for a moment to ponder this before rushing back to Fae, over a small parchment falling from the blankets, with his items over shoulder.


He laid out some blankets and bundled some coats into small pillows before adjusted Fae onto them. Airrow clasped his hands over his mouth, looking over what was gathered around the fire, shifting his eyes left and right and glancing at Fae in between every movement. He would look to Kalhalar or Aesriel for a moment, remove his hands, and open his mouth only to look back at Fae and whisper to himself. Only after a few moments did he rush for the water and take the flask to her lips. He dipped it slowly, while moving a hand under her head to raise it and help keep from choking. He recalled the injury on her head and moved his attention to it. After taking some wine and placing it beside him, he unwrapped the cloth and dabbed it with some wine. Then he slowly poured some of the alcohol over the wound before trying to wrap the cloth around her head again.


He went about examining her body, looking for something he knew how to fix, but he found himself at a loss. He knew how to help with cuts and stabs, to mend skin, to stop bleeding like any brother in arm, but how to deal with the inner workings of the body was beyond his knowledge. This was something for a barber-surgeon or a priest. What the girl had said before, Iscariot, Fae had a dislocated arm and a broken rib. Then joint-manipulation, bone-setting, something of the kind, they needed to reset her bones properly, then they would need herbs and medicines to deal with any illnesses or infections and to help her recover. They would need comfrey or clay, or splints. Airrow shut his eyes and gritted his teeth in desperation before his eyes darted to Kalhalar and his mind to their travels together.


"The search was successful then." Kalhalar finally spoke up, looking blankly at Fae. It seemed he had been looking on after Fox, perhaps interested in where the miscreant had scuttled off to, or perhaps Kal's ears were much better than Airrow's own. He only averted his attention away when Airrow carried Fae to them. "What ails you, friend?" Kalhalar peered at Airrow, "Is this not whom you sought?"


"She is not well, friend. Where is Nadia?" Airrow clasped his hands over his cheeks and mouth, his eyes dimly gazing over Fae. 

There were a few things that Ruger lived by and died for. One of them was for his stubborn-headedness. There was no force which could stop him, unless it stopped him dead in his tracks, in every literal sense of the phrase. Even as Kalhalar gave him a space to fall back, even as Aesriel's voice came to his ears, he stood his ground, part of his mind wondering about whether it was a stupid idea or not. That same part was drowned out by the others urging him to simply wrest the horse from the air and snap the neck of its rider there and then. A wandering sword like he had been in worse fights with worser creatures than a regular horse. Before he could sidestep or make a move to halt the horse that was thrown into the air, body about to crush his own under their weight, he was knocked right down to the ground by a force, a whole body tackle, landing him on the dirt.


Now, Ruger was no stranger to getting the wind knocked out of him, but as he sat up to see his supposed saviour, his breath was stolen once again, and this time by another not-too-foreign feeling. The blond prvok practitioner: Aesriel. A rose amongst the roses of the small companionship. The protests that he was about to release to his then-unknown saviour died at his throat. Ruger, usually oh-so-loquacious, was speechless for once. And for once, he was very conscious that he was bare chested at the moment. He scrambled to his feet uncharacteristically, coughing, and offering his hand to Aesriel to aid her back to her feet. His tonguetiedness lasted for a moment longer before he was reminded that Fox had slipped through his grasp. But the ladies bore more importance than the snake that slipped away.


"You are alright, Aesriel?" Ruger queried, after his initial muteness had passed. "It is...quite unsettling for Ruger that an exquisite flower like you have to protecting Ruger. Ruger promise you, Aesriel, he will having your back in the future. And Ruger never break promise to anyone." He offered his usual grin, though slightly lopsided by a foreign meekness to his behaviour. "Uhm...Ruger think he saw Airrow carry Faelynn just now. Shall we be going to see if she is doing the fine?"

 

[Haley]

Faelynn was in and out of consciousness. One second she was breathing heavy and staring right into the face of her attacker and the next she was opening her eyes to look into a warm fire. She blinked a few times, forgetting about Fox as she tried, very weakly, to scoot closer to the flames. She sighed and closed her eyes, soaking in the warmth. Already, her nose was running and with every breath she sniffled and cleared her throat. It was safe to say ,she felt miserable but at the same time very grateful to Airrow. If it wasn't for him- or well also the help from Raz and the mystery woman, she would soon have been dead.


She opened her eyes and looked up at Airrow as he issued orders out for people to fetch water and supplies for her. She didn't really concentrate or think of anything else, just watched him, unable to remove her eyes from him in her fevered daze as he moved all around her, covering her freezing and shivering body with blankets and pillows and then stopping to look at what he'd gather, then her, then what he gathered, then back at her again. If she wasn't so sick, sleepy and broken at the moment she probably would have laughed and made some inappropriate joke about what his intentions were with the blankets, pillows and herself.


"Th-thank yo-" She started to whisper but before she could finish, Airrow was cradling her head back and raising a flask to her chapped lips and pouring liquid into her mouth. She swallowed as best as she could with her sore throat and coughed when he was finished then apologized for coughing on him. If it bothered him, he wouldn't show it. He just moved onto her wrapped up head wound, his hands moving carefully and very gentle as he redressed the damage. She gave a small smile, he was always gentle and patient, a very nice quality that most other Djinn wolves didn't possess, at least, not the ones she used to know to frequent the Cloud Nine.


Fae was starting to feel better, the fire and blankets settled her shivering and gave a comfortable warmth across her body but she could still feel the pain in her dislocated shoulder and broken rib, along with the blazing fever that left her teeth still chattering, her stomach turning, her throat sore and her chest/lungs sore. She had to cough but it hurt to, she had to swallow but that hurt too, she had to breath but that hurt between the chest infection and broken rib. Thinking about it all began to bring tears once again but she tried to quietly sniffle them away. She listened to Airrow as he talked to Kalhallar and knew he was doing everything he could to help.

 

[Erica]

Tackling Ruger to the ground wasn’t her brightest idea. Her fall was broken, at least in part, by landing on top of him with a grunt. Ducking her head into the crook of his arm (at least she hoped that was his arm), they managed to avoid any injury from the horse. She looked up to see that Fox had landed near the woods nearly ten feet away. He scrambled to his feet and dashed away. She might have sworn, except that looking up suddenly made her realize two things. One: she had landed hard on her shoulder, and now her muscles were protesting. Two: Ruger didn’t have a shirt on. Maybe she could blame the resulting blush on the exertion, but surely Ruger would jump on the chance to comment about the situation.


Only he didn’t. He scrambled to his feet, providing a chance for her to catch her breath. When he offered her a hand, she took it gratefully and did her best not to grimace when her shoulder protested the effort. She nodded to his question, offering a small smile as she dusted herself off. “I am all right.” Her gaze moved past Ruger to the woods. “I just hope we catch up with that scoundrel Fox.”


Then Ruger was thanking her in his own way and promising protection. She nodded, unsure what to say to that as she rubbed a hand vigorously along her pants from thigh to knee, trying to brush off the worst of the dirt. Awkwardness stretched briefly between them, and by the time she thought to tell him that she was just happy he was not hurt, he changed the topic. She nodded again, beginning to feel like that was all she was capable of. “Yes. Yes, we shall… should. I am glad he found her.”


Approaching the fire, Airrow had lain Fae down. The woman was clearly wounded, but at least she was alive. In fact, she was in much better health than expected, considering. Again Aesriel’s gaze moved to the woods, wishing she could find Fox. Personally, she could do little for Fae’s injuries: she knew some basic healing techniques, but nothing that Airrow wasn’t capable of. Then Airrow mentioned Nadia. “She went to walk her horse. I’ll see if I can find her…”


With only a brief detour to retrieve her staff, Aesriel headed in the direction she had seen Nadia select after their brief discussion. Since it happened to be the same direction that Fox had headed, Aesriel slowed her steps and listened. Hearing nothing immediate, she started moving through the wood, calling out, “Nadia, where are you? We need you back at camp.” She thought she saw something between the trees in the distance. Thinking of Fox, she slowed her steps. "Nadia?"

 

[Ayl]

As he stood between the trees watching the sceen ahead, he was suddenly startled by movement somewhere to his left, from where the camp was.


"Nadia?"


"Nadia? Who in blazes is that?" he muttered, as he swiftly shifted his position, taking cover behind an old oak, while slightly strafing to see the source of the noise. It was dark, but Pauvel's hunter eyes were adapted to the night from all his hunting trips that mostly occured at night, when bandits would be asleep and he would be alone, with his prey. Oh, how he'd enjoy stalking a deer for a while before finding the perfect opportunity to strike it down. He wouldn't feel bad, as it was for his own survival, just as the deer didn't feel sad for all the grass she would eat or flowers she would ruin, just to sate her hunger.


As he peered through the woods, he saw something that left him struck with awe. He must've been hallucinating. What could've she been doing out here, so far away from Hinxworth?! She was married, she couldn't be here... but the resemblance was uncanny ! The same long yellow locks, as forged from the purest gold, the same stature, everything. Pauvel shook his head, banishing the visage. "Pull it together, Pav. It's not her, it can't be ! It's just someone who looks just like her and that's the end of it! Malinna is in Hinxworth, and you are here, now focus!". Pauvel felt like the Gods themselves have finally got fed up with his persistent defiance of their power, and have started punishing him for his disobedience and disrespect. First Zephyr, the death of his comrades, now this mockery.


He still hold firm the two arrows nocked to his bow, drawing them back even more, increasing the tension in the string of the bow. If the woman were to continue her path she would definitely find him and most likely call the others to her aid. "Whisper" knew not how many of them were, how many archers they had or how strong they were. It would've been a fool's errand to try and take them all. Divide and conquer. His favourite tactic. It was clear to him he could no longer flee without drawing attention to him. If they would catch only a glimpse of him, a general search would follow up to find him, and he and Stormrider were to tired to run. He needed a bargaining chip, and the one that was approaching was just as good as any other. He quickly stepped out of the shadows and aimed his two arrows towards the heart of the maiden stranger. "Do not make a sound" he said quietly "and I will not harm you, milady, you have my word!". Normally Pauvel would never in his life threaten a maiden's life, not even in his thought, but now was not the time for chevalerism. He needed to survive, or how else would he exact vengeance on the creatures that had robbed him of his dear brethren.

 

[Ozmic]

When Fox stopped before him, Azrathoth lowered his facial covering and showed his predatory grin, fangs gleaming hungrily in the dim moonlight. His eyes seemed to glow with an inhuman ferocity as he stared at the other, watching his every move closely and with an intensity only matched by that of a wild animal. "Do you fear me, scroyle?" he asked coldly, placing a hand on his strange weapon, fist clenched so hard that the harshly jutting knuckles were white.


As if on cue, the other grabbed for Loreial and pulled her against his form roughly, pressing a dagger to her fine throat. The smell of blood hit his nostrils, faint but there. The giant stopped in his tracks, a change going over his face. "No, please," he begged falsely, a sudden horror in his eyes as if this woman meant a great deal to him. "Fine, fine... I'll stay back!" he said, backing just slightly. It couldn't have worked more perfectly.


In a flash, his expression turned again, going back to the devilish look he'd worn previously. "Two birds with one stone, scroyle..." he sneered in a whisper and lunged forward. His strange weapon came up fast, too fast, and spun, the speared end of it flying forward and through the both of them. As it struck home in the center of their chests, the fair-haired old one could hear bones crunching and the sickening squelch of flesh being parted and blood letting onto the earth. "Your dark souls are now mine, vermin," he whispered.


Withdrawing his weapon, he quickly threw it away as the bodies fell. Quickly, he took the male's dagger and pulled it roughly across Loreial'a throat. Smiling at the handiwork, he placed the blade back into the hand of the one called Fox and leaned over them as if beginning to pray. He could feel their souls leaking... and soon, they would be his.

 

[Kaine]

Amras Elanesse - Returning to Camp.


Finally coming within range, the fires of the camp were fully within his view. His pace had not been fast, but more careful and calculated. The weight of another mans armor strung upon his back. Continuing he come up to the fire, to which a few people were gathered around. Airrow with his Damsel, the man known as Kal, and lack of the rest. They had ventured beyond to strike down the name Fox, and exact justice upon him for his actions against this young lady. No one paid mind to Raz.


Moving softly around them, not so much in stealth but just carefully, he came upon Airrow’s Steed. Dismounting the armor and with an oof, Raz lugged the mans plate up on his steed. Where it would await until he was ready to lace himself to it once more. Raz on the other hand was tired.


His emotions had gotten the better of him. People who had no path that crossed upon him yet his animalistic instincts drove him to feel the same as the others. It was preposterous. Raz snorted quietly and turned, heading back over to his gear and horse. His arms lifted up by his head as his fingers carefully untied the wool blanket he had rolled upon the back of the saddle. Taking it in both hands, he quickly flicked it out and it came unrolled and its size was full within a matter of moments. Quickly he wrapped himself in it and plopped down against a rock.


His chest heaved, stretching his lungs to full capacity and then released with a soft groan. His ear twitched and he listened to the conversations around him. Many things were going on, but none of them currently required his attention. Raz kept his eyes slightly open, observing, not sleeping until things would settle down a little. Surely when the others returned, it would either be celebration for justice, or sulking as they lost the villain. Either way sleep would yet to reach him.

 

[Haley]

Fox looked into the face of horror as the old man lowered his face covering and showed him the monster he really was. Fox began to hyperventilate, his honey eyes grew wide as he stared into the cold maw that he knew was to consume his soul. He tried to swallow but couldn't, all he could do was stand there and shake, clinging to some stranger who he forced a blade to's neck.


This was it, this was how the dashing rogue, the infamous bandit known in many a dirty tavern, the young man who made all the wrong life choices; The bad little boy at heart, Foxcatch Rumney, would die. Not in some glorious battle, not in the mouths and hearts of old men, women and children, sharing his legend across the seas and lands, and not in his bed as an old and tired man, surrounded by loving family. No this was it, scared, shaking and alone except for a female stranger and the face of evil, boring over him with a hunger only his life could satiate.


He was too busy focusing on the face of his assailant that he barely felt the spear drive through until his knees hit the ground. He lowered his head, slowly and took in the sight of the strange weapon, twisting into his stomach. He dropped his dagger, it was the first time he'd ever dropped that dagger since it was given to him by the leader of the bandit group that had taken him off the street when he was thirteen. Now there it was, already being covered in leaves and mud. He felt his hands release the woman but she didn't fall forward and away from him, she was also impaled with him, so in stead of leaving his side she slumped backwards onto him, and Fox found himself too weak to push her away. There was one thing at least, he gets to die with a beautiful woman in his arms even if he knew nothing about her, he couldn't even remember what she said her name was. Before Fox knew it he felt his cheek resting on her shoulder and he closed his eyes, trying to draw in his last breath but instead of a comfortable clean inhale before passing into oblivion, he choked on the metallic taste of his own blood and mucus, coughing it all over his shirt and the female's body. He felt his body fall back onto the tree he was standing in front of and he coughed and choked more, his body beginning to convulse with the panic of not being able to draw breath properly but it only lasted a minute before shock took over and his eyes glazed over, a numbness crawling in through the corners of his mind.


The last thing he saw was the monster, slitting the throat of his female death companion, and the last thing he thought of was how he always planned on his life ending in a bang, not like it was... in a whisper.

 

[Erica]

Where could the white-cloaked Nadia have gone? Aesriel glanced at the ground, looking for signs of a horse's passing. She was no tracker, though. To her, it just looked like forest. At night. After that first indication of movement, there had been no other signs. Had she imagined it?


No. There was sound up ahead; possibly a struggle? Was it Nadia? Who else had left to find Fox? Cursing herself for not paying closer attention, she headed in the direction of the noise with quicker steps until a man stepped out from behind the trees and threatened her.


An odd thought crossed her mind as she stopped, her focus narrowing to the span of the arrows pointed at her: How many strangers linger around our camp? Have the woods been infested with refuges from Zephyr?


"Do not make a sound," he said quietly, "and I will not harm you, milady, you have my word!"


The hushed sound of his voice broke the spell that affixed her gaze to the arrows. She looked up at him, her head tilting slightly as she set the butt of her staff slowly on the ground before her. While the chances of catching any arrow with the staff were slim, it was better than nothing. She followed his instruction long enough to look him over. He was tall and his weapons were of fine quality. He didn’t seem to be a brigand, unless he was a very successful one.


Aesriel took a calculated risk. Casting a spell would take time, and someone might be in trouble up ahead. So diplomacy it was: she held his gaze while whispering back, “Forgive me if I assign little weight to the word of a man aiming arrows at my heart.” Soft as it was, her whisper carried a faint tone of scolding, carried over from her years of conveying lessons to others.


A form of chanting or prayer came to her ears from the clearing up ahead. Memories stirred within her, although she could not place them except that they made her uncomfortable. She glanced toward the sound before meeting the stranger’s gaze once more. She continued in a quiet tone laced with urgency, “If you mean to shoot me, do it. Otherwise, I must see if that is my friend in need of assistance.” Keeping a grip on her staff, she hoped he would not shoot as she took a slow step toward the source of the chanting.

 

[Ayl]

The woman looked not frightened, but rather curious about him. He could see her inspect him, eyeing him down, considering her position. She wielded a staff, so she must've been a mage, a strong one at that. Obviously enough, she could not use any of her fancy magic tricks now, least she would get arrowed down, she might've thought. Truth be spoken, Pauvel would've never released the arrows that would've brought around her death. He only meant to...persuade her not to do anything rash, like calling for reinforcements.


“Forgive me if I assign little weight to the word of a man aiming arrows at my heart.”


Pauvel snickered at the reply, as he would offer his as well. "It is but my self-preservation instinct that drives me to so rudely threaten you, my lady, otherwise rest assured, I would never do something as sacrilegious in my life to such a beautiful manifestation such as yourself. You must understand, I must live, for I have...unfinished business that I must urgently take care of!". Pav really loathed himself for still aiming at the woman, but what could he possibly do? Let her fry him alive? Or maybe summon an earthern punch to pommel his brains out! "That woud be a laugh! My being battered up by a patch of dirt!" he mentally concluded.


And yet again, the maiden spoke to him. “If you mean to shoot me, do it. Otherwise, I must see if that is my friend in need of assistance.” . Now was the moment of truth. Of course, Pauvel let the arrows draw forward slowly, gently releasing the pressure from his string as he lowered the bow, keeping his hood on though. His identity was all he had left, aside from his fateful horse. Now he was sure that this maiden was connected to the others he had saw before. "Very well, my lady. You have gotten the best of me today. I would never lay a hand on a member of the opposite gender in my life. Even if it meant being clubbered to a pulp by a strong mage as yourself, as I'm sure you must be! As for your friends, I might be able to help you with that, if you would endulge me with but one request: I beg you, do not alert your companions of my presence, lest they try and overpower me for my equipment and supplies." he ended, stepping aside, one arm extended towards the place where he was just a few minutes ago stalking the other strange people.

 

[Auren]

Slowly, Ramya took a step back into towards the trees as a hume with the smell of poison and mud approached the others. She narrowed her eyes as she slowly backed closer into the underbrush while he was distracted. When he launched the spear into the bodies, she paused. The throw had enough thrust to launch itself through bone and muscle. The crunch was one she was familiar with. She could still hear the murmur of voices around them, and their smells mixed with the smell of the trees.


She was surrounded, and this man was apart of the hume team. Though, it did seem that he just killed his teammates. Humes were confusing creatures. Ramya grimaced as the scent of blood wafted around the air. Hume blood had the most disgusting smell of rusted iron and rot.


The hume bowed over the other bodies in a position she had heard one being call praying. She leaned down, crouching as she backed away further. If she were to escape now, she might be able to get away with hiding in the trees. It would be hard to avoid the humes on foot. But, if she stayed, it was likely she could forgo having to sneak around all together. She stopped just short of a tree’s trunk, the tall grass tickling her pant’s leg.


The man was dangerous, as told by the strong arch of his back, the fact that any normal thrown lance might piece but one body, not two. He was but one hume of the troop, and if this one could lance two people, what could the others do? If they found her to be better off dead than sneaking about their camp, she would have a problem. Killing without pay was always a problem.


Feeling decided, she stood up straight, and stepped on a branch. Her eyes turned wide and she held her palms out to the hume innocently. ”I-I-I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude, er, I mean, not that this is intruding. I mean, I was already here with the girl, but then…”she paused, gulping,”I mean.. um…please don’t kill me!”she pleaded, flinching at the thought.

 

[Erica]

While Aesriel looked toward the sound of chanting up ahead, trying to spy a clue through the dark, she still kept the stranger in the corner of her vision. Challenging him to shoot her or let her go was a gamble. While he had implied he would never typically threaten a woman, she had witnessed men profess the same despite a nasty tendency to beat anyone weaker than them. As she took her first step, she waited for the twang of a bow’s release - or, more likely, the sudden sharp pain of an arrow piercing her skin. Was this where she would die, before accomplishing the goal they had all sworn to in Zephyr?


The cloaked man slowly lowered his bow. She breathed a sigh of relief and took another step, only to pause when he spoke. How had he guessed she was a Sage? Well, mage. Was it that obvious?


When he mentioned them overpowering him for his supplies, she chuckled under her breath and shook her head. She kept her voice down as she moved forward, “We are not brigands or thieves. We are an honorable company on a quest to avenge Zephyr.” Were they honorable? Fox was certainly not, and she couldn’t speak for their new companions. So it might have been a broad brush with which to paint the group, but she felt she must defend Airrow and the others. “I cannot promise I will not mention you, but I can promise no harm will come to you… unless you threaten us.” Shooting a pointed glance at his bow, she moved toward the clearing where the chanting had emanated. Had it stopped? Did she hear a female voice?